clear eyes, full hearts, can't lose

{kid logic}

If I can't see you, you can't see me -- right? Violet loves hiding from us these days. She also likes orchestrating the conversation around her hiding. "Mum, say 'where is Violet?, Where is my sweet girl?'" And I do. Game over? No such luck. "Mum, say it again. Say, where is that Violet? Did I leave her at Susie's?" And on it goes...

{turtle necks}

I know it is dorky, but I love me a fresh turtleneck once the weather gets colder. They get a bad wrap, but Audrey, Marilyn and Jackie all wore turtle necks.  Here are a few tips for wearing turtle necks in a non-dorky way (none of which I followed today!)

{Remembrance Day for kiddos}

How do you explain war to little kids? Not a fun conversation, but then again not everything is fun. Violet's amazing teacher did a couple of crafts with the kids this week: a dove for peace and a pretty painted poppy to help us remember. I love how she broached a dark subject and got the kids to think about how lucky we are to live in a peaceful country. It got me thinking too.


Bored? Check out these links:

Something for parents to keep in mind

I knew it!

mustaches aren't the only facial hair on the block this month 

I did not know this, but I bet Mark Harris did!

pretty (but pricey) cake stands 

a perfect Christmas dress -- fit for Betty Draper, no?

guess what?

I got a job!

Wanna know the best part?

It is permanent -- as in we can make long terms plans (and yes I'm already all over MLS and baby name websites --  just don't tell Jeff ;)

When I told my sweet husband the good news the second thing he said was, "I can't wait to go to the dentist". We are crazy like that.

I am so excited! It is official, we are in Halifax for the long haul -- as if you ever believed I would leave!

xo

Em


ps -- I just hope I didn't get a new job the same week as Mitt Romney did....

come on in: living room

Come on in! 

Did I tell you about my living room? For the last year it has had a very wet wall. See that fireplace? It was surrounded by a peeling wet wall until about two weeks ago. From what I gather the moisture was from a chimney reno gone wrong -- yikes. The awesome thing about renting is that the work was done and there was nary a bill in sight! The crappy thing about renting is that the problem took, oh, almost a year to be dealt with. I may or may not have told my landlord Christmas would be ruined if the walled didn't get fixed. That is honestly how I felt!

Nothing if not dramatic...

So, what do you think? Would you like to have a coffee with me in this room? That is an actual invitation, not a hypothetical question by the way. Prefer a cocktail? We have a bar, but I want to paint it before I show you. (If you come over I won't hide if, but I don't want to put in online yet.)

I love the light in this room, and the floors and the rad couch we got on kijiji. It isn't mid-century style it is actually from the middle of the last century! We bought it from a very old lady deep in the South End. It's from Denmark, you can imagine my delight.

I seem to gravitate toward blue when it comes to home decor.What colour do you think I should add as an accent? I think yellow maybe, but I haven't found anything yellow that would suit yet.

As always, advice is welcome.

xo

Em

ps -- seriously, when are you coming over?

{slowly rebuilding my (our) library}

{cute couch for a kijiji find no?}

only words can express

{it was a no-photo kind of day}

This morning as I was getting ready for work, I poured myself a bowl of cereal just like any other day. I turned around to refill my coffee cup and "pouf" the milk was gone. I looked everywhere, but I could not find the milk. This is impossible, I thought to myself. How can you lose 4 litres of milk. Minutes later (I don't know how long, but an absurd amount of time) I found the milk. It was on top of the fridge. 

And the rest of the day went something like that.

It wasn't a bad day, just an off day.

I should have known not to try something new for dinner, but we have so many vegetables in our crisper and these broccoli and potato nuggets looked so good. I started off well. I prepped all the veggies, I even took pictures of my work in the last of the day's natural light. I was excited to have a nutrious meal to serve my family and a new recipe to share with you. Then I heard Violet.

"Mum, is my tongue orange?"

"No, why? Did you have something special for a snack at Susie's?"

"No..."

Then I saw the ink pad. 

Last weekend I showed Violet how to make different things with her finger prints -- you know, a catterpiller or a snowman. She loved it.

"Violet, did you lick the ink?"

"No, I was just doing a tongue print."

There was orange drool all over her latest work of art.

I scanned the label -- non toxic. Probably not the best before dinner snack nonetheless.

By the time I cleaned up the little and prepped the rest of the meal, my beautiful light was gone. I can't get a decent picture with the lighting in my house -- everything looks orange, not unlike my daughters mouth.

I miss June with its promise of summer and 10:00 sunsets. 

xo

Em

indulge

{books then bed -- kiddos do it right}

Violet is asleep, Jeff is off studying and there are, as always, a million things I could be doing with my time. I have marking to do, chores that are unfinished and a best friend who I owe a phone call to, but I have decided to be completely indulgent. It is 8:11, I am in my nightie and I have my book beside me. I will read and then sleep. It will be glorious. To do lists be damned.

I seem to always be overcomitting myself and then running around a bit like a chicken with its head cut off. I'm not the most self-aware person in the world, but even I can recognize that deep down I must like being busy. Either that or I must not like being idle. Why else would I agree to do so much and then try to bake cookies on top of it?

I guess if my hyperactivity comes from a healthy place it is probably fine. My friend Keira and I were talking about character traits the other week and she pointed out that "good traits" can come from unhealthy places and vice versa (I am totally paraphrasing, this was one of our hallway conversions so don't hold Keira to this). For example, say I really like being around people, is that because I am super social (healthy place) or because I can't be alone (unhealthy)?

Interesting. I hadn't really thought of it that way before.

I think that sometimes my propensity to buzz around comes from an unhealthy place. Why can't I just rest, be quiet, relax and indulge in the bliss that is doing nothing? I don't have an answer to that, but I do have a good book and a pile of dirty laundry I am basically giving the finger to.

What can I say, I am doing it for my mental health.

xo

Em

one of those weeks {and it is Wednesday}

{oy vey}

So last night I made biscuits to go with leftover soup from the weekend -- sounds nice right?

The recipe I tried called for a Tbsp of salt

That is a lot of salt

Did I question said recipe? Not for a minute

The biscuits were beautiful, a mile high

They tasted like a salt lick

Into the compost, the lot of them

Later last night, sweet Jeff took turkey sausages out of the freezer for our dinner tonight

What a helpful husband

Then he forgot about them

I found them this morning

I love the smell of room temperature turkey sausage in the morning

ew

Second dinner time fail of the week (and this was on Wednesday morning)

Needless to say we had breakfast for supper tonight

God bless the scrambled egg

xo

Em

ps -- I am not trying to be a poet -- the period on my keyboard stopped working and Jeff (and more importantly his computer) are out studying for the dang CFA -- not that I feel sorry for myself {cue sobbing into tear soaked pillow}

phewf!

{super cute even with a few bumps and bruises}

See that face? Don't let if fool you, she is (in the words of Buck 65 via Mark Harris) full of beans and big ideas.

Tonight as Violet said her prayers she said something that stopped me in my tracks. She said, "I am thankful that my skin is not brown."

Did that just happen?

Prayer over Violet. Mummy needs to make sure that God knows you didn't mean that (as if, right?1?). Immediately, I sprung into a diatribe about racial equality. I used words that I am not sure I understood and I am positive Violet did not. This lasted at least five minutes before I took a breath.

I can't believe she just said that, I thought to myself. I knew we should have spent more time at the pool.

Violet looked at me and said, "Mum, I'd just rather have purple skin, I don't like brown."

She doesn't like brown. True. Nor does she like black, green, dark blue or pretty much any color other than fuchsia. Oh, so this was a comment about colors of the rainbow, not race. Gotcha.

Violet gave me a, "you are crazy lady" look and turned over.

I think I am crazy. Time for bed!

xo

Em

reading aloud

{books I can't wait to read to Violet}

Violet had a mid-week sleepover with her Auntie Lou last night, as a result the morning felt like an eternity rather than a blur. I drank my coffee while it was hot. Wonders never cease. With all my spare time I came across an interesting article while I ate my breakfast. It was about reading aloud.

My dad used to read to my siblings and I when we were growing up. We read Huckleberry Finn, Swallows and Amazons, Stuart Little, Anne of Green Gables, The Secret Garden, The Hobbit and most of the Narnia series. We even had Narnia nicknames -- dorkiest family ever! After we finished each book my mum would organize a little theme party. She made a raft in our living room and we drank ginger beer on it after Huck Finn. We went on a walk in the woods wearing hooded towel suits after The Hobbit. My mum even made Raspberry cordial (no alcohol) when we finished Anne of Green Gables. So fun. Between the ages of 13-20 I was mortified that these events took place, but now I think it is awesome. Impressive parental effort no?

Anyway, the article I read this morning laments the lost art of reading aloud between adults, not adults to children. Parents have to read to their kids, or so the article states. 

I love the idea of being read to. I think it is romantic and harkens back to a simpler time, like before watching movies on a laptop in bed was considered romantic (because that is romantic right?). I bounced the idea off my friends at work and they were less enthused than I was. I can only imagine Jeff's response. Maybe if I offered to read Sports Illustrated...

So what do you think? Romantic or cheeseballs?

xo

Em

the thankful tree

{what I am thankful for}

Violet came home with the cutest craft today. With the help of a very special teacher she had made a thankful tree. Her little handprints hung from a branch like leaves. On each handprint Susie had written something Violet was thankful for.

I immediately scanned for my name and then assessed the positioning of my leaf (I wish I was kidding).

The craft reminded me of Thanksgiving when I was a teenager. We always went to the South Shore with my mum's best friend's family. Every year we froze, but I have lots of good memories now that enough time has passed for me to forget my numb toes and the hours I spent in a small car with cranky adolescent siblings. (I can say that because I admit I was the crankiest sibling.)

Every year my mum's friend's dad asked us the same question, "what are you thankful for?" Personally I preferred his less esoteric questions (e.g., name your three favourite pies), but it was a nice reminder to count your blessings.

I have lots to be thankful for, but my health and the health of my family feel particularly precious this year.

When Violet was showing off her art to her Auntie Lou she looked at the tree and said, without a hint of sarcasm, "I really should have put my own name up there."

And I was worried about her confidence.

xo

Em

girlfriends

{besties}

 

Jeff is studying for the CFA which means his evenings and weekends are full of practice problems and tonnes and tonnes of reading (poor dear). While I miss my husband and literally dream about how much time we will have once all this studying is behind him, in his absence I took the opportunity to enjoy some serious girl time this past weekend.

Husbands are great, but you really can't beat a good girlfriend.

I forgot how much I missed hanging out with girls. Growing up I was never one of those girls who hung out with boys. Don't get me wrong I had boyfriends, but they were boyfriends (plug your ears Jeff ) we kissed and that just ruins a friendship. Outside romantic relationships I think I prefer the company of women. Can I even say that?! I'm pretty sure only women read my blog (all blogs?) so I am probably in safe company. I don't think of myself as a really girly girl, but I am a girl's girl (is that even an expression. You heard it here first.)

This weekend I was reminded how insular our lives can become and how important it is to carve out time to nurture relationships outside our immediate families. I know that probably sounds completely exhausting to an already exhausted segment of the population, but I've personally found it so worth it. A day hanging out just mums & babes, an early morning run with a mentor and a dinner with a work-friend turned friend-friend each reminded me how I need to make time to hang out with my ladyfriends. I felt a little like my old pre-mum/wife self.

If you follow my blog (bless your heart) then you know how much I love my little family. We do almost everything together and I love every minute of it (I don't love every minute, that is a lie, but you know what I mean!) I guess I just forgot how much I also love just being me.

Tomorrow I am meeting another girlfriend for coffee, and then this weekend I have an all women's bookclub to go to and I cannot wait for either.

Since I was born in the 80s and came of age (what a weird expression that is) in the 90s I really want to say something about girl power, but I won't.

xo

Em

good and bad

{new umbrella on a rainy day}

Should I start with the good or the bad?

The bad?

I swore in front of Violet today. It was a really bad word.

We were driving home in the pouring rain and someone pulled out right in front of us. It scared me. I swore.

As we continued home I asked Violet if she had heard what I said. She said no, but I wasn't convinced. I tried to justify myself to her by saying that I only use words like that when I am really scared. This seemed to make sense to her.

When we pulled in the driveway I was still worried that she had heard what I said so I asked her what the worst word she knew was.

"Stupid," she said, without a pause and then, in the exact tone I used when I explained my misstep to her she said, " but don't worry mummy, I only use that word when someone is really stupid."

This weekend I inadvertently taught Violet how to justify saying bad words.

And now for the good.

Violet participated in dance class! We practiced every night last week (hello stage mum) and it really paid off. Half an hour goes so much faster when your child is not hyperventilating.

I attribute the progress to our practicing, but it could have been all of the bribes I tried to entice her with. You see that umbrella? That is the direct result of being a "big girl" during dance class. I promised a number of other things too so I guess I can't really nail down what worked. All I know is stage mum tendencies + bribery = success.

Feel free to try out that recipe for parenting on your own children, so far so good over here.

xo

Em

damsel in distress

 


You know those nights where you come home, get into comfy clothes, eat pizza and you're so tired you could either laugh or cry so you do both at the drop of a hat? If you answered yes, I should introduce you to Violet because that is totally her M.O. on Friday nights.


It was the best of times, it was the worst of times -- within the same minute. I get like this when I am tired too. From the outside looking in, I have to admit it is kind of crazy and a little teeny bit scary.

Being dramatic is obviously exhausting; Violet fell into bed like a damsel in distress. 

Seriously, who sleeps like that (and is not named Aurora)?

I am almost ready to do the same, you?

Happy Friday everyone. Batten down the hatches Haligonians, it is going to be a wet one. 

xo

Em

self-love

 

It all started with an attempt to add warmth to our front entrance. I've been admiring photo rails online for a while now and I thought our very own would make the perfect addition to our basic foyer (it is laughable to refer to our front hall as a foyer, but that won't stop me). 

While we were in Ontario a few weeks ago we did as all Nova Scotians "abroad" do -- we went to Ikea. We went for two things, just two I swear, but somehow a photo rail and an inordinate number of picture frames ended up in that cursed blue bag. Everything is so cheap -- I couldn't help myself. 

Anyhow, Jeff put up the rail and I printed a few photos at Blacks. We still have some empty frames to fill, but I have to say I am not digging the look. I feel like I have created a veritable shrine to Violet. We only have one kid and I'd rather have a shrine to her than a shrine to myself or Jeff, but I have a feeling it will be bordering on creepy for all who dare to enter.

Welcome to our home, we hope you love us as much as we love ourselves. Look how good looking our child is -- more is more, we always say. 

I'd be freaked out.

I'm hoping if I add a few older pictures, say of my grandparents wedding or engagement or even childhood pictures of my parents the effect will be more what I was going for. 

Why is nothing as easy as it looks on Pinterest?

xo

Em

ps -- as always advice is welcome (especially if you have exceptional taste -- come on, you know you do) 

dance moms

- this is how I feel something from: where else

I can't believe I forgot to tell you this yesterday. You won't believe what another mother said to me at dance class. 

Just when you thought you could get away without my weekly "Violet cries at dance class and I question my ability to parent" post...

Since you know the routine I'll stick to the basics. The tears started on the drive to class, by the time the teacher had to pry Vi's hands from my neck she was in full on hysterics. Hyperventilation by the child was followed by an "invitation" for me come into the studio. I reluctantly joined the class. Violet sat on my lap, a sobbing, sweating, but heartbreakingly cute ball of fury.

Just another Saturday morning.

For some reason other parents were in the classroom again, even though they are encouraged to wait outside. One mum leaned over to me and asked if this was Violet's first time at dance class. I explained that she had been in dance before, but that she seems to be in some sort of phase. The mum looked at me with sympathy (not real sympathy, condescending sympathy) and said, "poor girl, is there something going on at home?"

Seriously?

Those kind of comments kill me. If something was going on, which is isn't, would I tell a total stranger in my daughter's dance class? What a moron.

Of course in real life I said "no nothing" and smiled (really fakely).

I can't believe she said that, what a...wait, is something going on at home I wondered? Are we working too much? I never take Violet to the pool, good parents always seem to be in the pool, maybe that is the problem. Maybe we need to go to the park more -- does not going to the park everyday count as "something going on at home"? I let Vi eat sugar and use real butter on her toast, could that be it, that is borderline child abuse right? Maybe this is only-child behaviour, maybe if she had a sibling she would like dance class more?

Even though I know it is silly, I do worry that maybe Jeff and I are doing something wrong and that we are the reason Violet cries during dance class. I understand in my head that those thoughts are crazy and  toxic, but they creep up every time I see a room full of happy dancers and my little puddle of sweat and tears melts onto my lap.

Can I retire now? Being a grandparent looks like fun. I think I'd be good at that.

Oh gosh, imagine how much I am going to over analyze things once Vi gets to school, or worse, when she is a teenager.

xo

Em

back to reality

{cuddles before breakfast and my new favourite picture}

This weekend really felt like fall. I don't mean the weather necessarily, but just the fact that we seemed busy from the moment we woke up until we fell into bed (at 8:00 pm if you must know). Other than a few milestones, Violet wants to be called Bingo from now on and a chickadee landed on her hand while we were at the park (she now believes she is Snow While incarnate), the weekend was pretty standard for this time of year. In fact, while we were standing outside Costco this afternoon I felt a wave of self-pity come over me. Why are we aways so busy? I just want to sleep...for two weeks. I let myself wallow for a few minutes, but then I snapped out it of. We are busy because we choose to be, we are so blessed to have Violet to take care of -- even the monotonous stuff is a really big gift. Some not so fun stuff has happened in our lives lately and the silver lining in all the sadness has been that I realize that now.

I can't always snap myself out of a mini-funk, but today I did. Could have been my new take on life, could have been all the jelly bean samples.

Here are a few pictures from our weekend that was full of laundry, dishwashing, chauffeuring and a healthy dose of toddler (little kid? cue weeping) attitude. Despite all that, or perhaps because of it, it was awesome.

xo

Em

{pumpkin muffins: before}

{story of my life -- you too?}

{the return of the bodum}

{first steel cut oats of the autumn}

{pumpkin muffins: after}

{be still my heart}

{new church shoes - thanks Nanny}

{keeping up with her mama}

{I have to stop myself from eating those cheeks}

{this photo is included and was taken at Violet's request}

Ancaster

{Velma, Nancy, Emily & Jules aka aunt, mum, wife and sister}

Jeff's family live in a pretty little town outside Hamilton. It is so lovely there this time of year. The air has cooled off and the leaves are just starting to turn. Ancaster, where Jeff spent part of his childhood, is full of stately brick homes and perfectly manicured lawns. It is the perfect spot for a wedding.

I am biased, but you can't beat a September wedding. You get all the bright light and sunshine of summer with none of the oppressive humidity. We travelled to Ancaster on Friday to go to Jeff's cousin's wedding. I love seeing Jeff around his family. He laughed so hard he cried every day we were there. You know the sort of laughter that only people who have known you since you were little can evoke? That rang through Jeff's parents' house.

Violet was indulged beyond belief. Instead of two (or four) adults doting on her she had at least 6 sometimes 7 loving grown ups at her beckon call. She was hugged, kissed and fed from the moment she woke up until after she went to bed (no eating after bed, just hugs and kisses).

It is so lovely being taken care of for a weekend. Jeff's mum and sister are the type who would never let you see a dirty dish, they wash your towel before you notice it is gone and they slip little presents and cards in your room or suitcase. Dreamy.

When can we go back?!

Here are my favourite pictures from the weekend (Jeff's sister has the same camera and she is more diligent with photography) -- when I said I relaxed I meant it!

xo

Em

{Wes and Precious Jules}

{Em & Jeff}

{pretty cake}

{country wedding}

{Violet laughing so so hard}

{Emily Pond I or Emily Pond Jr}

{Em & Vi - cousinly love}

{another pretty blonde sister! Auntie Ang and her little minions} 

one

One.

Well, one plus one.

(One year plus one day.)

One whole year. Only one year? What a year!

I love my hand-holding, early morning coffee making, Violet adoring, family loving, can put anything together like lego husband even more this morning than I did last year. (Even though he slept through our alarm. That is a lot of love.) He is the best late night fan-turner-offer I know.

I love being on your team Jeff.

As an aside -- do you like rooting for a winning team sweet pea? As a Leafs fan and also as a Saint Louis Rams fan this experience must feel foreign. Don't worry. You're doing great. Just keep it up.

xo

Em

ps -- back home late from our quick Ontario trip -- pictures to follow!

stormy weather

{Violet this morning in the dark of the storm -- "how can I embarrass my mum today"}

We know each other right? I feel comfortable with you and you feel comfortable with me? The reason I ask is because tonight's discussion will take a turn for the unladylike at around paragraph five. I'm talking about bathroom talk people. Well, you can't say you weren't warned.

Today did not start out so well. It was pitch dark an hour past my usual wake-up call and morning run so I couldn't go. I blame my dad. Not for the weather, although he is fairly attuned to the man in the sky so perhaps he could have done something about that too; I blame him for my paralyzing fear of being outside alone in the dark. We were never, I repeat never, allowed to walk home alone after dark -- and we basically lived in the safest place in the world. Every time I think about going for a run before dawn I hear my dad's voice -- "it just isn't worth it Em". But, Dad I really don't want cellulite. Argh, fine, point taken. Run missed.

Then there was the delightful walk to work in the rain. Rain doesn't even begin to cover magnitude of precipitation I experienced this morning. I had no umbrella (ask Jeff why, if I can't say anything nice I won't say anything at all. That is just the kind of wife I am). Luckily Susie (Violet's other mother) saved me by loaning me a longer raincoat then the one I arrived at her house in. I still got soaked. My skirt also bunched up so when I arrived at work it looked like all I had on were a jacket and boots, and not in a good way.

But later in the morning things were looking up. My friend bought me tea and a pastry. The tide seemed to be turning. My day was brightening.

Then the final blow came. When Violet and I got home from work/ school I told her I wasn't feeling that well. I wasn't. My stomach was a little off so I made myself some tea. A few hours later Violet was on the phone with my dad -- it was so cute to overhear their conversation: "How was your day....yeah, fine...how is Nana feeling...ohhh good." But then I heard this, "I think my mummy has diarrhea."

VIOLET!

Oh dear. I tried to take the phone from her to explain to my dad I hadn't been feeling well, but it was too late, he was gone.

So embarrassing.

I'd like a do-over on today please. Scratch that, I'd like it to be Friday.

xo

Em

bad luck

{running on the beach just a few days ago}

On Wednesday night my mum fell down three steps while carrying a case of diet coke to her basement. Their house is old and the steps are steep, but it wasn't very far to fall. Being the ironwoman she is she got herself up with the help of my dad and entertained guests for the rest of the night. We were there and I really had no idea she had broken her hip. She seemed fine-ish -- in pain, but laughing it off. The details of the event are her story not mine, but the long and the short of it is that she is resting comfortably after having surgery on her hip yesterday afternoon. Needless to say we are all in a bit of shock. She is so young and healthy. Look at her frolicking on the beach in the picture -- that was this week. I guess these things happen occasionally -- flukes. I am so thankful she didn't hit her head, or do more damage to her body. We expect a full recovery and I won't cut her any slack on our future runs. She had just started really getting into it. I still see a 5K in our future.

The silver lining is that we can spend the first few months of the fall watching the Gilmore Girls, every Jane Austen series she owns (which is obviously all of them) and eating rice pudding. Oh and Downton Abbey starts soon too...bedroom parties every weekend until we get this woman up and running again.

xo

Em

vocabulary

{inimitable}

I've mentioned this before, but I think it bears repeating (as in I want to say it again), I would like to be the type of person who can get away with using the word "terrific". Blame Woody Allen if you must, but I totally associate the word with New York literati. Don't you? I would love to be the type of person whose spoken language skills rival something written by Aaron Sorkin, but it just isn't me. I say the word "like" a lot. Not Clueless a lot, but more than Mr. Sorkin would approve of I am sure.

I've been thinking about words lately, about writing in general really. I am trying to read more and write less. More importantly, I am trying to really pay attention to writing while I am reading. Sounds easy, but when you get caught up in a story, which is the reason why I love reading, the mechanical details seem less important.

My efforts have not, however, been in vain. In the last few weeks I have come across three words that I really, really like. In addition to being the type of person who can pull off saying "terrific", I would like to use these particular words in conversation. Wanna hear 'em?

Thought so.

1. Inimitable

When I was feeling blue last week (see last post for details) my mum brought me custard and my dad brought me Roman Holiday starring the (in his words) "inimitable Audrey Hepburn". Have truer words be spoken? I like the way this word sounds -- so playful, almost like a one word tongue twister.

2. Imbecilic

I read this one. It was in reference to Todd Akin's infamous comment. Appropriate right? I feel like I could use this word all the time -- no offence family & friends. I may never say stupid again.

3. Doddering

Someone used this word to describe Clint Eastwood's performance at the Republican National Convention last week. I still love you Clint, but doddering is a hilarious word to describe the movement of the elderly specifically. I think it is the specificity I like. Young people can't dodder. Does this not strike anyone else as funny?

So this was a really edifying post that I bet you are stoked you read until the end. I just wanted to share these words with you. I've had in on my to do list for almost a week. Thank you for bearing with ;)

xo

Em

image via The New Yorker