yellow and grey.

grey skies tend to bring about sentimentality.
i feel good in my small black leather jacket and large fluffy scarf, cat eyes peering at what's going on in the street outside. have been romanticizing the past lately, dreams of a-line skirts and white gloves, though the present is always present in the way you look at me. taking a unmarked cd out of one of the cars to find that my sister's taste coincides for brief moments, flashes of thought patterns tied to song. surprised that i am enjoying the cold weather, if only the joy that it brings about huddling over steaming cups of hot chocolate and warm puppies curled up at the foot of your bed. you scrunch your shoulders up when you are excited, just like you do when you are cold, and i find myself mimicking the way you do, paying homage to my wish to absorb you.
i'll knit you a scarf and for myself a large beret to go with my newly found fall joy. perhaps too, there will be a golden afghan to envelop the both of us.

for those friends with a heightened sense of curiosity.

as far as i can find, this was my paternal grandmother's.

she was married April 10th, 1943.

Falling into a new start.

"...mekleju vardus kalna mala..."*

shift. reset.

this morning it snowed.
there is something comforting about the effort to keep warm. as a kid i relished the mornings in which i could peer my head out of my cocoon of warm blanket and taste the cool air enveloping me. today, i sleepily cradled a steaming cup of licorice tea, lit the furnace, and layered long shirt, white sweater, black jacket, yellow scarf.
now i sit, layers shed, absent-mindedly fiddling with the ring on my left hand thinking.
for some time the words have escaped me, trapped in an exhausting whirlpool of mute observation. but slowly they are coming back to me emerging with an energy reminiscent of the epic Latvian bear hero.

I am finding that I am enjoying fall. Previous talk of it brought tense anticipation, but the reality of soft and heavy fabrics, stick-to-your ribs type fare, and sneaking into the warm crook of your love's arm is much nicer than expected. Maija has done nothing other than to extoll the virtues of local apples and Charline is tempting me to begin knitting again. I am mad about these felty boots from Target and this golden wool scarf from Boden. Grey and gold are destined to be colors of mine this season.

Working to build the familiarity that makes one feel at home. After a long day at work, am planning to treat us to a neighbourhood soul food restaurant, Brasa, in an attempt to reach the Southern comfort signals in our heads and encourage some sense of acclimation.

Looking forward to the long haul.


*Trans.: "...looking for words at the edge of the mountain..." --Prata Vetra