Gregorian calendars, pitchers, etc

I’ve never been much of a Gregorian gal. (But also happy new year, darling.)

I hope today is beautiful for you, and I hope you cast a lovingly wide net for your definition of beauty.

(Most importantly I hope you don’t do what I used to do)
(Which is say you don’t care)
(But actually place enormous stock in a completely implausible “perfect” feeling around this and all holidays)

(A hazy love, excitement, comfort)
(A kiss to fix it all) 
(The exact right alchemy of friends around to make you feel like your life has a purpose)

The ever moving target of “peace.”

I’ve never been much of a Gregorian gal. (But also happy new year, darling.)

Today I’m gonna try to learn how to bake choux, because eclairs are JJ’s favorite dessert. I am particularly tickled by the New York Times cookbook’s shade-master description below.

(Ha!)

In any event. I’ve been baking for four years and it finally feels like perhaps I can scale the magical “baggage free” mountain that is puffed pastry.

If I succeed, it will be the perfect New Years.
If I fail, 2024 is definitively doomed.

I’ve never been much of a Gregorian gal. (But also happy new year, darling.)

If your year was anything like mine I am wishing you the most fucking boring 2024 of all time.

(Wouldn’t it be fantastic if we didn’t have to hear the word “unprecedented” for a good few years?)

Happy new year, darling.

There are two bouquets of flowers in my home.

(The dream.)

One is housed in a vase, one in a pitcher from Agia Gallini, Greece. I found said pitcher at the base of a mountain in 2021.

(Here was the view from the top of the mountain.)

(It was great.)

The bottom of the mountain was also great. A perfect village nestled into terrain. After three weeks of confusing-beautiful-heat-wave-Crete-touristy-vibes, Agia Gallini came as a welcome respite. I bought a cobalt blue pitcher even though there was no real home for it to live in yet. I envisioned beautiful dinner parties, delicious aromas, vinyl flowing from speakers. A space that would hold the ever moving target of “peace.”

Then we landed, got back, grew a lot more. I found out some fun facts.

(1) Turns out despite my lifetime of calling a coping mechanism a personality trait (woof!) I am an absolute introvert. I therefore do not want to have large dinner parties anymore
(2) That pitcher, even for small dinner parties, is far too little to hold much pourable liquid.

I do not enjoy getting up to refill every single time I pour someone a glass of water, so it has been sitting lonely in a cupboard. But like many things, when I can look at them in the right way, the pitcher now functions just beautifully as a flower receptacle.

I’ve never been much of a Gregorian gal. (But also happy new year, darling.)

I hope today is beautiful for you, and I hope that you cast a lovingly wide net for your definition of beauty.

(I hope I can, too)
(I’ve already succeeded and failed a few times today at just that)
(Progress not perfection and all)

Here’s hoping we all can imagine ourselves as flexible cobalt blue vessels. Fine for water pouring, better for flower holding, perhaps even best at something we don’t know exists yet.

Capable of being many things at once.

Wishing you a boring as fuck 2024, in the best kind of way. And wish me luck on eclairs (I do not share the New York Times’ confidence!) (We shall see!)

More next year. (!) Love you.

t