progress.

Not much has progressed since my last entry. Though, as of yesterday, we do have phones. We’ve started taking our (better late than never) birthing classes and found that baby is (still) butt breech. There’s time for him to turn, but he’s been like this for a while. Then there were a few of those days. You know the ones, where the car you just bought doesn’t work exactly as it should, and you’re driving a lot. You’re worried about where you’ll live and how long it will be till there’s income again. Knowing there’s a baby and a new mom soon, who only just changed her first diaper on a dolly on Saturday. And trying to let go and go with the flow. If mom’s stuck on the breech, how is baby supposed to get unstuck? 

{yogi tea wisdom : via fieldy}

Let’s just say the irony’s not lost on me. And all of this non-acceptance and mind wheeling mechanical worry has given me the first hives of my life and a wicked cold. Two days ago I thought the world was about to end—or that it never would. I’d been listening to the “advice” of other pregnant mothers who had weathered colds: It’ll pass. Tea. Soup broth. Tissues. It might take weeks; be patient. I started to imagine trying to labor in that condition, impossibly. I stayed in bed a day, while S cooked and mothered me as best he could. And I already feel better. The worst of it lasted only two days, though no over-rejoicing and jinxing my good fortune here. 

Then the pitter-patter of hiccups, which I swear resonate from the lower part of my womb… Maybe it's progression after all. 

two days of summer.

We did it! Packed, cleaned and cleared out the house. It wasn't until after we moved into the waiting area for the plane that I cried. There's something more final about leaving Patagonia. When I left the States, I might have choked up a time or two, but it never felt final. Of course I would return to visit--if not to live.

Puerto Natales is where S + I met, where we started a life together, where we've been living the past few years with the odd support system of other expats and a few locals. Our comfort, our makeshift family. And now another leap into the wide open. (Let's not even think about the part where we become parents.) This next leap we make together. Yeah, we can face anything.

{photo by rishi menon}

We arrived to Santiago last night. It was windy cold when we left Patagonia, so the green spring blooms and magnolia trees outside our window now are a welcome change. We can walk around outside in flip flops and T-shirts. Sunshine's so good for the heart. Never mind the smog; on the way in we could see an outline of the Andes. Today we're off to enjoy the summer before we head back into winter--again.

{photo by pilottage}

For the past few years, we've been smartly following summer, not winter. This works out well, because Patagonian summers are on par with California winters. Sun sets in Santiago nearly two hours before it does in the extreme south of the country, so it's a good transition to moving into dark before five. Dear Nordic friends, I don't know how you manage near total darkness for months at a time! For now, we're off to soak in the sunshine.

creative space.

Between my "creative space" hormones, trying to fit our lives into four (now five) bags, cleaning house and finding homes for what we won't take with us, vacating the house and giving it back to the property owner, and saying farewell to people, I've had my hands full, my mind occupied and my fair share of cries. So, if I haven't responded to emails or popped in for a hi lately, that's why.

{circa 31 weeks}

Visit me over at Lady of the Arts today for her killer Around the World Series. Meet other bloggers from around the world through their interpretations of inside, outside, creative space and a wild card photo of of each blogger's choosing.

me + my backpack + some other stuff.

Yesterday I enjoyed one of my last yoga classes in the dome. It's basically a yurt-style "tent" a few kilometers outside of town, with brilliant views of Última Esperanza Fjord. It's built to withstand the gales and near hurricane-force winds. (And let's just say this full moon kicked up some glass-breaking twisters and house-rattling gusts.) Practicing yoga in the dome--warmed by a wood burning stove and sheltered from the gales beyond it--is noisy. The loudness of lashings never really bothers me when I'm inside, but our yoga maestra kept reminding us to let the wind sweep away what we no longer need. Let go our heavy baggage so to speak.

About four years ago, I shouldered a blue backpack and set out to travel around South America. I had a plan (which included returning in two months), but I found it difficult to explain to others what exactly I was doing. Friends wished me farewell, saying: I hope you find what you're looking for. I had no idea what that meant or what I might be looking for.

{on the way to paso oggioni, torres del paine}

My backpack has climbed glaciers and volcanoes peaking 6,000 meters, soaked in the mists of Machu Picchu, weighed down my broken toe traversing the Bolivian altiplano, wobbled on donkeys and boarded canoes in the Amazon. It's froze beneath the snow of the Southern Patagonian Ice Field. It's explored Turkey and survived rickety trains throughout Eastern Europe. I heard its sighs of relief when--too heavy for me to daintily swing onto my back--S has picked it up and held it out for me to put on, as if it was anything as light as a coat. It's been nibbled by mice and manhandled by airport conveyors. It's been my home for months at a time and my chair at dinnertime.

{en route to paso marconi + the ice field, from el chaltén}

And most recently heavy blue has been sold. For nearly a decade, that backpack collected shells and stones, non-native pine cones, diary notes scribbled on maps, breathtaking views, and the camaraderie of other backpacks.

{almirante nieto, torres del paine}

I've collected beach glass, bird books and real feather pens, friends, transience, acceptance. I met yoga and meditation and my husband. In that order. Maybe I was looking for something. But when I stopped looking and opened my eyes, I found I already had everything. (But, of course, I still wanted to meet that special someone.) A few blinks later : enter S. Now we're moving to my California homeland, with the backwards backpack of my 7-month pregnant belly. What a long, strange trip it's been.

May the wind carry away some of your excess baggage today. 

What would you send with its next gust?

friday present: pegasus catapult.

This week stormed through the house and swept up all the pretty horses--light like feathers--impeding its path. It makes me think, maybe I really did ride a pegasus last night, dreaming. After this week's hectic, I'm so thankful for now's lull:

to be quiet... 

{photo by khalid almasoud}

Have you ever noticed how hungry just the mere act of thinking makes you? I used to work in a cubicle at a Silicon Valley internet company. I'd eat a bowl of cereal there, and even though my only activity was brain and finger-related, my stomach would start growling in no time. But then on the weekends--even though I physically moved around more--I could go all morning without eating and without feeling too hungry. I don't know if this has something to do with being alone or the amber waves of brain activity calming down. Maybe the extra energy came from not being exposed to florescent lighting's energy sap.

I do know that little things like talking eat up a lot of our energy. A couple years ago, I did a 10-day meditation in silence. We'd have lunch at 11 a.m. and in the afternoon around 5, we'd eat a piece of fruit and drink tea. I never felt ravenous hunger, until the last day when we broke the silence. That day we still meditated, but between meditations, we talked and got to know the people with whom we shared our rooms, the incredible experience. When evening tea time came around, we were famished.

My point: Sometimes simple conversation can wear you out. We've had nearly four despedidas in as many days. Saying farewell takes a lot of talking, or in my case these zombie days, a lot of listening to others talk. Who knew it would be such a drain? So yeah, right now I'm happy to be quiet.

to be reminded...
Permanence is life's comical side dish, like that plate of brussel sprouts at Thanksgiving that nobody really touches. I'm sure the fact that we're leaving and saying goodbye to all our friends here makes moving all the more exhausting. This week we sold the car, we sold our land in Patagonia, we sold the last of our mountaineering equipment, we packed two of our bags and set aside piles of things to give away. I've looked on as beautiful friends take away pieces of my clothing. Part of me lights up to see my wardrobe refreshed on a different body. Part of me misses my body. Agility, lightness, stamina. (I know I'm not supposed to say that, but I'm sure such moments happen to everybody. And this is about acceptance.)

I didn't expect to find myself astride a saddle of attachment. I've moved a lot, sold off all my belongings more times than I care to count. Although it may not sound like it here, I am thankful for this lesson of letting go. We do live a pretty transient, up-in-the-air life, but here that's still easy and more or less stable. Moving back to complicatedville is frightening, so it's good to practice a little let-go right now. The only really ever have control over our thoughts + actions. So I am reminded: Make the thoughts positive, act with compassion.

{photo by colton witt photography}

to find space...
As I get heavier, my life lightens. Every day for the past two weeks, we have gotten rid of some material thing. During this time, baby enjoyed a growth spurt and my belly, lots of oil slathering. I'm creating space.

to be loved...
Yesterday I guess I just needed to cry. During our dinner party. Um, yeah, thanks return of the hormone crazies. It was late, luckily we were at our home, and everybody was entertaining themselves. I snuck into the bedroom, feeling how tired kids must feel when the fussing and crying kicks in. With no real reason other than it's time to be quiet and rest. How many fights have we picked in our lives because we weren't listening to our own exhaustion-o-meter?

S came to the rescue, held me, pulled me together, reminded me I'm a space maker. Thank you for your patience, understanding, killer pep talks and strong hugs.

{photo by seyyed mostafa zamani}

to be...
Grateful to just be. That's all.

What are you thankful for today?

friday present: randoms.

It's been a couple weeks, since I've written one of these posts. Busy on the home front of moving (obtaining immigration visa, deciding to move + then acting on that whirlwind decision), though that should just be a different post altogether. So let's organize the thoughts, scattered leaves: This week I'm grateful for...

sockets. 
So many sockets. Most houses here have one single-plug socket per room. (At its heart, Puerto Natales is still a poor fishing village, riding the wave of Torres del Paine tourism and trying to learn how to grow.) Most houses are boxes built from scrap wood and tin; the guts of the house an afterthought. The electrical wires run on the outside of the walls, making for eye level sockets--one per room, if you're lucky. (You pay the "electrician" per outlet, and why pay more?) Then comes the extender plug (usually a three-sided danger toy), maybe another extender, then all the appliances plugged in, Frankenstein fashion. Yeah, you can call it a fire hazard. 

Not so where we live now. In a house with forethought: inset ceiling lights, closets, and more sockets than I've ever seen in all of South America. We have, for instance, five sockets in the living room. Three of which have three outlets each. We're only here another three weeks or so, but one of my fondest memories of this place will be the fact that I could plug my computer in anywhere--without unplugging something else, getting tangled up or tripping. 

{the moving night by luis argerich}

emptying.
Like I said, we won't be here much longer. We leave Puerto Natales on November 29. We're selling everything, so I have a good reason to make spreadsheets. I can sort by whichever column I like and filter the information as I please: Who bought what, who do I owe items to, who owes us pesos? It's overly organized, and I love it! Every day this week, someone has stopped by to take something away. It feels good to physically see less to-do items in our space. 

beach glass.
Even though I'm wringing out our home, I still want it to feel homey, livable. Right now I'm looking at a row of beach-combed glass jars. The amber one holds a duck's plume. I'll let the jars catch light on the windowsill another week or so before rolling them in newspaper and jeans. It's decided; they're coming with us to California's cold Pacific. 

{via happy mundane}

deep sleeping. 
Aside from the fact that last night I got to sleep with my guru again after six days, I'm happy that I'm still able to sleep deeply. Of course I wake up a million times in the beginning of the night to pee. Or maybe baby gets all wiggly right when I'm snuggling in and it takes me a bit to fall asleep. But for the most part when I'm there, I'm there. (I know this luxury will slacken soon, so I'll just enjoy it while it lasts!) 

Last night S had his arm draped over my belly, and baby kept swatting at his hand. Baby does this; when he feels pressure, he starts to nudge around in that area. I telepathically told baby to hit harder, but sleeping S still didn't feel a thing. This morning, on the other hand, while S was in full-on play mode with our kicking baby, I didn't even wake up. 

breakfast in bed. 

{via}

S is the morning bird, I'm the night owl and baby still gets to be both. Someday they'll share the early morning hours together preparing me great late breakfasts in bed. We'll eat feasts of yogurt and honey, fruit and Turkish toast in bed together, before going for a hike on a sunny, breezy afternoon.

What are you thankful for right now?

get calmer.

Don't get mad or grumpy or frazzled or fed up. Get calm.

S said this to me after I might have said something about him being my guru. I know that may sound funny, but he is the most present, patient and overall calm person I know. The fact that he sometimes has to deal with the flare-ups of this raging fireball phases him little. (Wish I could claim that those flare-ups never actually happen, but what can I say?: I'm a work in progress.)

{because everybody needs to be reminded to breathe sometimes}

The tourist season has started here, finally. It seems to start later and later every year. Not ideal if you work seasonally. But it also means that right now S is on one of his longer trips. This always requires adjustment, a wee transition to being suddenly sola. And after spending all winter almost inseparably together, it's easy to see how much I rely on him. It's bigger things, like sleeping with our baby's soft stuffed monkey instead of my husband. And littler things, like how S always asks if I have water. Or medium-sized things, like suddenly I can't remember how to put air in the tires.

Meanwhile, every day something else moves from the house. I clean out another cupboard. Set aside things to giveaway, find more items to put on the for-sale list. I shift the house around to keep it homey. A couple nights ago I created sound sleeping energy in our new bedroom. We sold our bed yesterday; and it does feel good to find less to get rid every day. While Serkan was still here, I imagined it would be impossible to move from our big bed to the little kid's bed that came with our mostly furnished house. That the room had been used too long for exercise and closet space. But it feels really good in there. It has the comfortable, safe feeling of a nook, because the bed space is pretty nook-like. It's where we slept the first month we moved into this house and where we (S+me or monkey+me) will sleep during this last month too.

In other festivities, some friends painted my belly for Halloween. While Halloween isn't near as festive as it is in California, I still like to try to dress up. We weren't even sure what we would do till the last minute. But it was fun getting ready anyway. I've always had a knack for convincing boys to wear skirts. Halloween night was no exception...

{impromptu dance party}

Eventually I was something akin to mama planet...

{circa 28 weeks}

We made Laura a mime and David was Heather aka me...

{happiness}

David's costume is really only funny if you live in this tiny town and see people wearing the same things all the time (like this puffy jacket + wool hat, sunglasses; the wraparound skirt on top of jeans works like a little extra blanket against the cold). Apparently this genius costume even fooled some people--immediately followed by their utter unnerving.

{scary halloween version of the movie: heathers}

 David's ultra smiley pose every time the camera shot in his direction completed the look.

getting ready to move.

{untitled by picassoswoman}

We had our first taste of boredom yesterday. Even though I was pretty busy running about, every time I returned to our house, an uneasy wave of boring bore into me. This is coming from someone, who generally scolds people for saying they're bored. I mean, there are SO many things to do! I'm in the middle of about three "projects" now, not to mention the mail I mean to post, books to read, desserts to bake. But yesterday kissed us with a spell of... what was it exactly?... a combination of not wanting to do anything, restlessness, boredom. Are we that ready to leave?

As I write this, S is looking up what our internet speed will be in California. Currently we pay more than $80/month for a snaily 0.4 Mb, which cuts out intermittently (aka regularly). We just got back from our typically sad market of wilted greens and rotting fruits--for which we also pay too much. So S also searches how much groceries cost at Trader Joe's. It's a little crazy how much we love grocery shopping together. TJ's, among other markets, is me being a happy kid in a candy shop.

I thought I would be more nostalgic thinking of our last six weeks here. And I do feel so. When I talk to certain people, I know I will miss parts of being here. Some people. The mountains. My yoga teacher. The lazy relaxed lifestyle. (You can't live here if you want to get something done, fast--it'd drive you batty!) Living off the grid in our own little way + checking out of the bigger world... (I'm not political here, sometimes I barely know what's even happening in the world out there. And--here--I don't feel the slightest tinge of guilt about having checked out so thoroughly. I guess the things that concern me most these days have to do with third world recycling aka lack thereof and decrepit street dogs.)

{wondering what i was in for in 2007}

But I won't miss the horrid customer service, the hurricane winds + and inhospitable weather, the garbage the filth, the barking street dogs + poor diseased puppies (enough to make the hardest-hearted sniffle--so many of my foreign friends have taken in crazy numbers of strays), the propineros in the market who assault you with their plastic bags despite your protestations (and then you give them coins for this), the food and lack of food choices. I find myself saying way too many times a day: in California this... or in the States that... And yes, all this does make me shake my head at myself!

Don't get me wrong, there have been so many amazing moments and life changes that occurred here, living "at the end of the world." (Most notably we found each other. A beginning--not so much the end.)

{our happy beginning : torres del paine}

I'm sure our last days here will compel me to dive in and write about some of the heart's serpentine journey. For now, knowing that we are almost finished enduring everything we've chose to endure by living here... whew, it's incredibly freeing!

Do you have an ambiguous relationship with where you live?

because changing plans is how we roll.

Today we head to Punta Arenas for a flight that leaves tomorrow at 5.30 in the morning. If you've been following for a while, you might remember me saying that I would never do such flights again, because it requires arriving to the airport via the latest bus and staying there for hours, watching movies on the computer, trying to nap or just plain waiting for the our flight to depart. Where we live, by the way, is three hours away from the airport by bus.

But as I started writing this down, I thought that's just crazy! So we changed our plans completely. (The plan was to drive to Punta Arenas, visit our three hospital choices to see where we'd want to have baby, go for an ultrasound (24+ weeks!), and leave our car at a lot to sell while we are errand hopping in Santiago.

{circa 24 weeks, s loves to make it look as big as he can}

New plan: Take the bus to Punta Arenas just in time for our doctor/ultrasound appointment, stay in a hostel there, and wake up butt early in the morning to head to the airport (like normal [read: not so vagabond-y] people who have a flight at that ungodly hour). I might need one of these alarm clocks Jen is giving away after all! Just writing about our more sensible plan makes me feel refreshed. On our way back from Santiago, we arrive just before 5 am, and then we will have to wait a few hours for the first bus to Natales and our own sweet bed. But it's only one way of absurdness, and at the end of the rainbow awaits... our bed!

{via the diversion project}

So, this is it! Santiago means lots of random appointments, maternity clothes shopping, warmth + sunshine + c'est la vie what comes with it--cough cough smog, and most of all--Serkan's visa interview at the American embassy. We will find out on October 13 if we're allowed into the States together. Send us happy thoughts!

Meanwhile, we've been doing a little daydreaming aka house hunting (within our meager means). First we were "dreaming" about really crappy foreclosed homes. Then we branched out a little and starting falling for lofts like this or single family homes like this. We aren't anywhere near actually thinking about buying a home right now. But if all goes well at the embassy, our next flight will be landing in the states within the next six months.

Are you in your dream home now? How did you find your current nest?

the sound of a whirlwind / gettin' back.

{photo by arthur machado}

Come to think of it. I don't know what I've been so busy with since we arrived home six days ago, but sometimes life gets real busy like that. But I do have one big update. Aside from all of the gorgeous bits of love waiting for me in my inbox and post box when we got home, there was a skinny letter from the U.S. embassy in Santiago. Dated about five days after I filed the stacks of paperwork to prove that we "entered into a bonafide marriage." Romantic, right? Love letters, financial documents, travel photos, congrats from family and friends all graced this massive packet. 

 

The crazy fast news is *the* interview is already set! October 13 in Santiago. We bought our tickets back to the capital yesterday. Remember how I said no more horribly timed 1 or 5 a.m. flights? Well, just one or two more times (ida y vuelta). Sometimes you just can't argue with the price. Thank goodness humans are so capable of forgetting past discomforts + grueling experiences! Sometimes it's good to be able to do it again...

Yet, some plans foiled... About two years ago, I took a vow of silence for 10 days. No reading, writing, listening to music, knitting, nada. Only meditation. Sitting (oh, it's surprising how much marathon sitting can hurt!). The style of meditation is called Vipassana, and they hold 10-day sessions all over the world. I won't go on about what a purifying experience this was. Have you ever done anything like this?

I wanted to do it again. Just once before I return to the States, because having a job with only a couple weeks vacation (way to make real travel impossible...) pretty much precluded me from wanting to spend that dear vacay in silence, meditating. Really, I like a good party break too! Besides international lifestyle and families, we'll be back and forth to Turkey and likely Chile along with wanting to explore... I had been trying to get into Vipassana courses for several months (always attempting to register too late). Finally one day, I was in and registered! 

{meditation by c.mariani}

A couple of weeks later Serkan decided he'd like to do it together! Say, what? I was over the moon. I couldn't think of a more amazing experience for us to share--by that time all 2.5 of us! Men and women are strictly separated during the Vipassana retreats, but just knowing that we are there doing it together... Hello beauty (and support and synchronized calm)! Since there wasn't any more space in the Santiago course I got into, I relinquished my spot. We hunted for another. After a couple of tries we found one in Buenos Aires and planned a big roadtrip for it, scheduled for September 29. 

{photo by lenaah}

After looking at funds and timing, it's too much to do the visa interview, get all the medical exams that we need in Santiago, and meditate in silence for 10 days near Buenos Aires. Bluely, I let loose that little dream yesterday morning, as we purchased our flights to Santiago. Our afternoon bike ride in spring (for here) weather cheered me up. I hadn't ridden a bike since May! 

Wishing you all a still-warm entrance into autumn and a sunny welcoming of spring! 

{unattributed photos : unknown : please let me know if they're yours}

friday present: settling into lullabies.

First, I want to say thank you to all of you! Your lovely comments always make my day. And since some days (if even for silly- or non-reasons) are harder than others... such sweetness boosts the ole superpower reserves. 

Without further ado, this week's gratefulness list goes like so: Thankful for...

Settling in. 

{in the woods at giverny by claude monet}

I mean this on so many levels. Settling into my skin, into pregnancy, and settling down. It's funny after all this time vagabonding, I finally just want to be settled and in one place. Long-time friends might be shocked to hear me say such a thing.

So here we are in Santiago, and for the first time this week, we have uninterrupted internet. I'm playing blog catchup, which is always fun. Because the internet situation was so shoddy here, we were going to change to a different place, but they seem to have fixed it, so we're here till Monday. No moving, just settling. This morning I refolded all my suitcase and tidied up. We're staying in a pretty posh fully-equipped two-room apartment in the center, Santa Lucia area. (It only costs us about 14USD more to stay here rather than in the cheapest Santiago hostel, the one with a tiny room and a horribly dirty shared bathroom. And other tourists. Now, lemme just say... Hostels are great when you're traveling and want to meet other travelers! But having the where are you from conversation with the wide-eyed (fellow) globetrotter 3-5 times/day in the place where you currently live started to get old somewhere along the way.)

Moving on. 

{photo : unknown : please let me know if it's yours}

I mean this on so many levels. Moving into phase 2 of the visa process, the light at the end of it all leading us into the USA together. And going on a little vacation! On Monday, we head to Uruguay, just because it was the cheapest place we could get to that wasn't Chile. We plan to see the sun rise from the Atlantic at least once. We've both seen the sun sink into the sea many times (I seem to be a permanent West coaster, from California to Chile), but neither one of us has ever seen the sun rise out of the sea! Other than that... we'll see.

Immigration visa. 

{bardot in blue}

What can I say about this? We decided to do file Serkan's visa paperwork DCF way (via Direct Consular Filing). This means we must go in person to the U.S. Embassy in the country where we live, instead of me mailing it to some PO Box in Chicago from the States. DCF method for Chile takes 2-4 months, whereas if you do this from the States it takes 6-12 months or longer. What held up our process was the crazy slow waiting for me to receive my updated Chilean ID. My last one under a job contract had expired and had my maiden name on it. (Long story.) But to sing the praises of DCF, I can't tell you how amazing it is to be able to file in person! If something is wrong, you know right away. If you have a question about part of one of the documents, you can ask, and know that you filled out said document correctly/satisfactorily, or change it if need be! You know the paperwork has been received, and you have a verbal time frame, and even card to email further questions. You get all the phase two paperwork right away too! Anyway, like I've said, this went crazy wonderfully, and I'm psyched! (If you have any questions about how to fill out forms, sample affidavits or sample cover letters, what to include, etc., send me an email! Happy to share it all with you!)

Getting lost. 

{october by fanfan}

My direction sense has always been horrid. The only place it's ever been halfway decent is in the mountains and on trails. Somehow intuitively I know that one trail will connect with where we want to go. This intuitive sense has dulled over the years (despite the fact that I spend lots more time in the mountains now). Why has it dulled? Simply because I don't trust myself... I get lost everywhere in amazing ways. Sometimes I get lost in the same way various times because I know that I've been there and seen such and such landmark before. Um. Yeah, but I saw it by getting lost. So mostly I can stay pretty relaxed and be lost. But when this lostness joins forces with my habit of being late, that's when the freak outs and real exasperation starts. Really, Heather? Again!? So I'm thankful to be with someone who always seems to know where we are. I think he's magic. He's definitely my favorite dream.

Baby Yalin. 

{by popular demand : the belly, circa 17 weeks}

And of course I'm thankful for our baby, who I now feel daily. I'm starting to sing lullabies to him in hopes that they'll help quiet him later. I've been singing You Are My Sunshine, and I used to love the Irish Lullaby (Too Ra Loo Ra Loo Ra) my mom and grandparents sang to me as a wee one.

Do you have a favorite lullaby or song that you sang to your little one or that you remember loving to hear as a little one?

jetted + lagging.

Preface: I actually wrote this last night, but our internet crashed... boo. 

Last few hours to enter to host Cuppie on beautiful adventures of your choosing!  

Whew. We spent most of today traveling to Santiago after a couple of days on little sleep. I've been swimming through piles of immigration papers for my husband, so we can finally get our booties to the U.S. Tomorrow, bright and early, we squeeze into the sardine-crowded metro system en route to the embassy. And hopefully hopefully hopefully! finally finally finally! file the papers that have been weighing me down for months! 

{photo}

I won't go into all of our attempts, waiting and thumb twiddling jazz. The back story is, after all, just a bunch of bureaucratic acrobatics. I will just say, with a huge sigh of relief, that my Chilean ID arrived yesterday. A key piece in our direct consular filing puzzle. Had it not come, I'd mapped out plan B (B is for begging, with affidavits of supporting evidence, of course), but thankfully I won't have to rely to plan B.

Meanwhile, it's lovely to be a little bit warmer and have fresher choices at the market. Fresh baby spinach, strawberry, cashew + blue cheese salad featured in tonight's quick fix of a dinner. And blueberry juice! Oh, yes, I am one happy camper. Also looking forward to eating Thai food, going to the movies, shopping for stationery and shoes, maternity clothes, cosmetics and all manner of pretty things, crossing doctor appointments off the to-do list. And then heading to Uruguay for a week on super cheap tickets!

{photo : unknown : please let me know if it's yours!}

P.S.: I'll be announcing the winner of The Cupcake Challenge the next chance I have this afternoon, when I have more than this handful of minutes to dedicate to it.   That means, there's still a few hours left to enter. 

P.P.S.: I didn't have to rely on Plan B. And step one and two of the process are complete! My backpack turned featherweight after the load of papers I dropped off. Or maybe it was just the spring in my step. More on this soon! 

friday present: moving to alegre

This week was chock full of wonderful bits, enough to overshadow the not so wonderfuls. (Thank goodness!) It's probably obvious from my recent posts that this week I am crazy thankful for having completed our move.

yay! our move!

 {photo: unknown, please let me know if it's yours.}

I don't want to dwell on all the ghetto (not so) fabulous difficulties of where we were living before. But you know how when you put up with something for so long and finally move on, you are left lighter, unloaded, nothing on your back save that huge sigh of relief? This feeling can be found in lots of life's corners: relationships gone south for the winter--winters ago; the chronic pain in your jaw--that you barely even notice anymore--that changes the your swagger enough for you to eventually require foot surgery; that phone number you dreaded to dial and finally did, insomnia halted. That's how this move feels. 

The tijeretas (earwigs), which weren't even that bad by local standards: gone. Electric and gas piping outside the walls: inside. Wind entering the house and all heat escaping through a zero-ly insulated roof and walls: insulated. This house is much smaller than our last one, but now that we're moved in and our lives are stowed, it feels plenty big enough for the two of us. And we're warm!

a letter from a dear friend. 

On my huge to-do list the day we were scheduled to completely vacate our old abode, was to visit the post office and plea with them not to deliver a letter from my beautiful friend Claire, Bicoastally extraordinaire. There's really no reliable mail forwarding system here, at least not where we live. But I figured if I kept going to the post office to check, it wouldn't get stuck at the other house to likely be tossed out in the trash. Just as I sat down to catch a bit of rest, the mailman knocked on the door with a special delivery. This must be the most beautiful card I have received in years, right down to the adorable envelope! At that moment, I don't think anything could have made me happier! 

i get to play with cuppie! 

Carrie at This Free Bird just sent me Cuppie, so I will lovingly share in a lovely androgynous cupcake, part of the OneCraftyFox Cupcake Challenge hosted by Diana. The whole challenge is hilarious and absolute fundom. If you haven't already seen it, you must check out the boisterous romps of Cuppie while on Carrie's watch. Can't wait to receive the cutiepie and see if I can decipher her gender. Or his gender :) Adventures coming soon!

breaking in the digs with a killer breakfast. 

Long, slow breakfasts are close to one of my favorite things on Earth. This morning I rolled out of bed--early and awake and happy--with an urge to eat a Mexican-style breakfast with homemade tortillas. So I got to work kneading and rolling out tortillas, chopping tomatoes for pico de gallo, scrambling eggs and grating cheese. We ate the little breakfast burritos with some yummy lentil paste that Serkan had made last night for dinner. And I devoured one sweet one with butter and cinnamon-sugar sprinkled on top.

chirimoya alegre.

{chirimoya found here}

In case you don't already know, it's winter here for us. And reading all y'all's blogs had me craving cherries and blueberries! (No canned or frozen versions in these parts.) I've also been chatting with my dad about cheesecakes every so often, so I'm itching to bake one soon. The last one I made blushed with a raspberry topping. For some reason, (that I won't complain about) the local supermarket always carries frozen raspberries.

So what does this have to do with chirimoya? Well, even though we're far far away from fresh berries, today we randomly scored a chirimoya, which I also haven't seen for months! What is chirimoya, you ask? Chirimoya is a wonderful Latin American fruit, whose tree is sometimes referred to as the ice cream tree. (Now who wouldn't want to try ice cream fruit?) It's high in fiber, calcium and vitamin C! Now we're talkin', right? Sometimes we eat it orangified. One of the most common ice cream flavors here is called chirimoya alegre, or happy chirimoya, and it's happiness comes from the dash of sunshine that is orange.

Have you ever tasted chirimoya?

And do you have any cheesecake topping suggestions or special recipes that you adore? I would love to hear them and maybe try one (or several) out!

And what are you thankful for right now?

a room of one's own.

First I want to say, thank you so much for all your fun and lovely moving wishes! We're reaching the home stretch, and tonight we'll be sleeping in our new digs!

{more milk here}

But sometimes I just don't know when to quit. Times when my whole being is rung out yet I'm still so high strung I can't actually stop. I've had pretty gnarly insomnia lately, something I haven't even had a wink of since, say, 2006. Last night, for example, a quarter after 3 in the morning and I'm glugging hot milk and honey. (No, this isn't a normal drink for me. This is my first milk&honey experience.) 

                            {honey by kristyn shobert} 

Serkan and I scurried around together all day: packing, moving, errand running and eventual painting with the help of one of Serkan's friends. I confess, all in all I was not a happy camper nor honey company. But in the end I was able to say yes to going out to eat instead of cooking with what odds and ends we could muster in the nearly emptied house. Not only was our meal delicious, but we shared some great conversation as well. 

It was a kind of family and funerals talk. And suddenly I was talking about Norman, this stuffed moose that must be tucked away in one of the boxes stacked in my aunt's garage. How I'd written a letter to my grandpa after Grandma passed away. It's gist was this:  

Dear Grandpa, Dad gave me this (Northern Exposure) moose the Christmas after Mom died. Now I'm passing it on to you, so he can keep you company too. 

I ended up with the moose again once Grandpa, too, passed away. I've been thinking about that moose a lot lately. 

{girl&bear by dim baidachnyi}

So, naturally, Norman the moose surfaced during the conversation about my family. You see, my husband has yet to meet the fam. We were married in Turkey (where he's from) about a year ago, we live in Chile, and the immigration process to get into the States is a pain in the ass arduous.

But right now I'm not thinking of Norman so much as I'm thinking about letters. For some reason, thinking about the letter that I wrote to my grandpa jostles me open a little. Looking back at it, I cringe. Something inside me (the editor? some icky authoritarian voice?) winces at the naivete. It's not just this letter, though. It's poems, it's stories. It's many. other. letters--several as yet undelivered. Raw, impale-your-vital-organ type post-its. Asking for mercy, wishing for grace, expressing pure love and, at their heart, asking to be loved. 

 {letters found here}

In my mind's eye looking back, there's something so (violently) innocent about these pieces of writing that remembering them makes me flinch. Of course, I'm likely the only one looking back with such a look on my face. But let's not confuse this look with something of regret. I don't regret anything I've written and delivered. Well, not deep down at least. Mostly the cringe is followed by a shudder of awe. That I had the courage to share that starkly honest & pulsing bit of me.

...

Recently I was on a roll creating postcards. The roll halted for several reasons. But now I'm looking forward to letter writing and postcard making at the sunny table in our new abode. For a while I had a writing desk set up in our soon to be old house with a collage of family photos beneath a piece of glass. Once winter set in, the room dimmed, and the desk was overrun by dust and discard piles. So I'm really looking forward to rediscovering a comfortable, bright workspace. 

              {of course, outside is nice too.}

What is your creative/workscape look like? Is it a special place? Have you ever created something that's given you goosebumps at some later stage? What is another word for that feeling, since it's not regret? So many questions, but I'm curious.

{photos 5&6: unknown, please let me know if they're yours.}