Ruby Romas in the Dead of Winter

Last night on the way home from work, I stopped by the grocery store and bought 23.61 lbs. of Roma tomatoes. Six stuffed produce bags full of beautiful, fist-sized, ruby romas in the dead of winter. The plastic bags stretched and squeaked as I carried them around. Shoppers passing me as I felt for firmness, bruises and blights made odd comments about my apparent love for tomatoes. "Somebody clearly loooovves salsa." No, stranger. Marinara. And I can make lots of it for 50 cents a pound.

Last night Mike and I de-seeded and diced for hours, our hands slick with juice. Our house filled with the smell of sauteing tomatoes, garlic, and basil (my basil plant had a very sad and sudden demise this week...it's still too fresh to talk about...). And we only got half-way through. A huge silver bowl of winter jewels awaits us tonight. We're keeping our unexpected bounty for when winter's white blanket thickens over our small warmth. Summer's gold hidden up winter's fleecy sleeve.

Oh, Hawaii....Oh, sweet sun....Oh, colorful fish of paradise...

For Christmas this year, Mike surprised me with a trip to Oahu, Hawaii (bless him, bless surprises, bless the existence of exotic lands far from these icy tundras clouded by impenetrable smog). The man had been keeping it a secret for months. And we were there. Just a week ago. Looking out of my window at this blustery and snow dusted landscape, this fact is difficult to imagine. Just a week ago.

Just a week ago we hiked through tropical rain forests with leaves as big as my body to crystalline falls careening over mossy rocks...Just a week ago we bought fresh passion fruit and papaya off of the side of the road for a few bucks (I can almost feel the sticky, sweet juice on my fingers)....Just a week ago we cruised with the top down (bless the easy-going Hertz rental man who upgraded us at two o'clock in the morning from a Ford Focus to a Mustang Convertible for free...it was way cooler) past mountains so velvety green, lush and jagged that they seemed to have burst through the belly of creation only moments before....Just a week ago we sat on sun-warmed, white sand and watched the blazing sun slowly set into the impossibly blue ocean...Just a week ago we dined on banana pancakes doused in macadamia nut cream and delights at Alan Wong's so delicious and delicate the mouth can hardly comprehend...Just a week ago we swam in Hanauma Bay with swarms of bright and strange fish and a sea turtle who darted surprisingly fast through the turquoise waters. Just a week ago. Sigh. Oh that time travel were an option.

Here are a few pictures from our snorkeling adventure. More pictures of our trip to follow.

Family Photos

I just had to post a few pictures from our New Year's trip to Indiana...and, yes, I stole them from my brother's site....and, yes, we are eating my nephew Jed in a few of the shots....and, yes...V and I are due a mere two weeks apart.....and, yes, we are eating goldfish in the shot of just girls (?...bribery for Jed gone horribly awry), and, yes, I am clearly the most photogenic woman in my family as that picture clearly demonstrates.....and, yes, I miss my family.

Like Hummingbird Wings

The week before Christmas found Mike and I in a small clinic. The woman standing over me slathers cold gel over my belly and then firmly presses what looks like a child's microphone into my abdomen. Through the crackling speaker we hear the slow, strong drum of my own heart as the microphone moves over and across, then, suddenly, the very small and very fast swooshes of a heart beating like hummingbird wings. A heart so small I can hardly imagine chambers and valves. In a body so small I can hardly imagine the fragility of the translucent bones.

For 15 weeks now I have been growing a human--bones blossoming--under the thin veil of my skin. A super-human power. Superman can fly, but I, I build pea-sized kidneys in my sleep.

For the record, Mike thinks it's a boy. The Chinese calendar said so. So he has been practicing his name in careful, curving script.