So anyway there I was, just sitting on your porch...

One pleasant surprise this month has been the discovery of front porches and front steps and how perfect evenings (and mornings, and afternoons!) are to sit, drink, eat and talk on them. It all started three weeks ago when J. served dinner on her front porch. When I arrived at her house that night her whole porch was illuminated with bright white Christmas lights and she had set the table really nicely and the whole thing looked like a picture from a Good Housekeeping magazine. Sitting out there was just perfect. And fortunately was replicated two nights later when we sat out there with cupcakes. Then the morning we went to the Gulf coast, I arrived at F.'s house to find him and J. eating breakfast out on his porch. The morning light shone on their faces and made J.'s hair look extra red and all I could think was what a wonderful way to start the day.

Later that same week I was inspired by F. and J. to give my own front steps/porch a try. Despite the fact that Austin's climate makes porch sitting possible in just about every month it only seems to have taken off (or maybe more accurately come to my notice) this month. I think it has to do with being out of school and having a more time to do those kinds of things without feeling guilty about it. Another (probably the single largest) factor for me was that I share my front porch and steps with a next door neighbour. Fortunately my neighbour moved out on May 9. He was rather strange and I wouldn't have felt comfortable sitting out there talking with someone if he lived there. So since the apt has been empty this whole month I have taken advantage of sitting out there on several occasions. I actually find sitting on those steps relaxing in a way I haven't felt with anything else- you get the comforts of being at home, while also being outside. And you can sit barefoot too which I like and which isn't really acceptable at outdoor restaurant patios. And the nights are really pleasant here right now -- warm but not too hot and the air smells good and if you're lucky sometimes fireflies will sparkle and then disappear.
I prefer front porches to back because you get to see who is walking or jogging or strolling or driving by and they can can see you too! More interesting and exciting, I think. The other night I was out there and made eye contact with several people who went by and it was really fun! The back can be good if there are a lot of people or if you want it to be more private, but otherwise I think the front is definitely better.

Catching the last train for the coast

This past Tuesday J. and I went to the Texas Gulf Coast-- specifically Padre Island, just across from Corpus Christi. I have long had an interest in coasts and I have always loved songs that mention coasts (think American Pie: "they caught the last train for the coast" or The World at Large: "I pack up my belongings and I head for the coast" or Mrs. Potter's Lullaby: "You can never escape, you can only move south down the coast"). However, I have always associated coasts with either east or west - specifically in North America. East and west are opposites, are counterparts, and maybe because of that I found it difficult to imagine this third North American coastline.
Now that I have been to the Gulf Coast,however, I need to readjust my thinking. As soon as we got out of the car all I could smell was the familiar and welcoming salt of the ocean. And though at first I resisted calling the Gulf the ocean, thinking that it sounded wrong when J. referred to it as that, I found myself calling it just that today. It certainly looked like the ocean and felt like the ocean and tasted like the ocean and had waves like the ocean, and gave my hair perfect salty curls like the ocean does-- in short, it is the ocean! And I need to accept that!
I think maybe part of the reason I resisted seeing the Gulf Coast as a real coast is because with the east and west coasts you have ocean stretching out in one direction for thousands of miles. There is something both romantic and magical about standing at the edge of the ocean on either the east or west coast of North America and imagining how that very same ocean stretches all the way to Asia or to Europe or to Africa. I think that is where, at least for me, a large part of the appeal of coasts comes from- and why I like those song lyrics I quoted above. One can feel like they're starting over, like they're escaping, they can become a new person either with no past or an invented one, when they're on the coast-- right on the edge of a continent and on the edge of the world as they know it... Beyond the horizon, where the eye can no longer reach, lies a whole new world, unfamiliar and mysterious... The Gulf Coast is lacking that appeal for me mostly because the Gulf, as the map above shows, looks more like a Bay, and because I know that really not that far away is the Caribbean... And while the Caribbean is also interesting and different and exotic, somehow its proximity makes it less interesting and distinct and exotic than Asia or Africa.
But ultimately it was so exciting to discover that one can spend a day by the ocean in Texas! After last summer, West Texas was my favourite part of the state. I think now, though, South Texas is giving the Western part of the state a run for its money!

The M-Word

I loved the opening credits of Season 1 of the tv show The L-Word when a bunch of different words that started with the letter 'L' would appear on the screen. Love, Longing, Los Angeles are the first three that come to mind just now. It was a much better opening than the one the show adopted for the following seasons which had an annoying theme song and all the characters in poses they would never normally be in. Each time I watched an episode of Season 1, I would try to spot a word I hadn't noticed the last time.
Today I was thinking about the month of May, specifically May of 2008 compared to May of 2009. And then I began to think about all the words that start with the letter 'M': May, Mom, Mountain, Magic, Marigold, Mad, Magnificent, Magnet, Miss, Mind, Maybe, Mango, Mail, Mud, Millions, Malicious, Mild, Magpie, Man and the list could go on and on... Quite an assortment!
But sticking with the first word on the list, I find the month of May a bit of a fickle month. Is it summer or is it spring? Is it cheerful or is it gloomy? Is it genuine or is it fake? At this exact time last year S. had arrived in Austin and summer had begun! As we drove off into the sunset (or really just west towards LA) I remember feeling super positive about the month of May because I knew that that month I was going to see all the people I care about the most in the world.
Now, a year later, I keep thinking about last year and making note of all the differences. This time around, summer won't begin for me for another month. I won't get to see all the people I love best and I'm going to be spending it pretty much in one place. But on the bright side, the prospect of staying here the next month is totally fine- unlike last year when I wanted to get out of Texas so badly that I practically cried tears of frustration as we passed El Paso and still hadn't reached New Mexico!
Last May had been anticipated for so long that though it lived up to all its expectations, I could still pretty much taste them (they were mostly sweet thankfully) in much of what I did that month. The lack of expectations for this May is actually sort of freeing, and hopefully a good thing. And if all else fails, I have lots more episodes of The L-Word to watch.

Me and my Green Thumb Jasmine Dreams

I'm not sure what's come over me but earlier this week I was actually contemplating taking up gardening! In some ways I guess it's not that odd given that after I started both cooking and exercising I realized how much I enjoyed both. I was wrong in being against those things for so long, so maybe I'm wrong about gardening too? If I did take it up, I'd like to look like the Green Thumb Girl in the picture above - complete with a pink headband, overalls and gold boots!

As much as I like Green Thumb Girl's style, though, I'm not sure, realistically, I could really embrace gardening... I've never been one who enjoys sitting on grass, let alone in dirt. And really, I think I'd want to take up gardening just to plant one thing (which is where this whole idea started the other day): jasmine. I have loved that flower, and its intoxicatingly lovely smell since my first conscious recollection of smelling it in Berkeley five years ago. I associate jasmine with hills and fences and bright blue skies and hot expansive sunshine and happiness. Without fail I feel cheerier after walking by jasmine. I am very fortunate because even though I no longer live in Berkeley, which I swear abounds in jasmine in the spring and summertime, a neighbour of mine down the street has the most lovely garden with a whole half block long of fence covered with an expanse of jasmine. I can smell it from a block away, which makes for very pleasant walks. I think its scent is also stronger in hot weather because earlier this week it was so warm and the jasmine was especially fragrant.

So yes, after passing through a cloud nine of jasmine for the 5th time in 48 hours a few days ago, I decided I'd like to garden just to grow some jasmine. My dreams, however, got somewhat squashed when an internet search revealed that jasmine only grows in warm climates, which effectively means I don't think I could grow it in Toronto. I don't think Green Thumb Girl would give up though... and so I shouldn't too! If I am really serious about gardening (which for the time being remains doubtful but we will see!) then I will just have to research plants that grow in all climates!

April Showers?

I have realized over the past few days that I find April a very confusing month weather and season wise. I've actually always liked the saying "April Showers Bring May Flowers" but it's been so long since I've ever known that to be true...

In warm climate places like Austin, April, at least to me, is really no different from March. Both months have very hot days interspersed with much colder ones. Although on the whole the days are warm. April probably has more thunderstorms than March, and the end of April is notably different from the beginning of March temperature wise, but all in all, April does not stand out as being that distinct from either March or May.

It's in places that have real winters with snow where April has me all confused. In Toronto on Thursday I was talking with A. who assured me that the leaves don't come out there until the beginning of May. Whereas in Vancouver, where A. used to live, leaves apparently bloom much earlier. The past few days in Toronto seemed more wintery than spring like - true there was no snow but neither was there any green anywhere, only varying shades of brown. I used to unequivocally think April was spring. But now I think I need to reassess. May, with all its flowers (which seem to appear regardless of April) is a much better representation of spring. I used to think March was the bridge between winter and spring but now I think it's April, without a doubt.

A tale of many coasts

The woman who owned the little flower shop on Euclid, in Berkeley, that I used to buy flowers from told me one bright day in September 2005 how she'd spent 6 weeks of that summer in Maine. Originally from Iran but long a resident of California, the lovely flower woman told me the only other place in the United States she could imagine living was Maine.

As I always trusted her judgment in flowers, I decided to trust it in terms of states too and in my mind, Maine became California's east coast equivalent. However, after having visited Florida a few weeks ago I've changed my mind. Though I went to Maine in the summer of 2006 and was more struck by the brisk weather (though it was still August) than the California connection I still equated the two. It wasn't until I was walking happily along a beach in Stuart, Florida earlier this month that I realized how much more Florida, rather than Maine, seemed like California, or at least southern California.

Stuart seemed like vacation land- lots of happy, smiley, tanned, beach going people relaxing by the ocean and enjoying their surroundings and the weather. (I've always wondered what it would be like to actually live by the beach year-round and have that kind of vacation feel all the time.)
The vacation vibe, the sunny and warm weather and the inviting ocean made me think more of Malibu and San Diego (both places I've only ever been on vacation) than Maine ever did.

The Maine coast, I think, matches better with Northern California or Oregon or Washington. All those areas have beaches that are isolated and rugged, that bring to mind wind swept hair and sweatshirts rather than suntans and bikinis. For me, the Maine and the Northwest coasts are the loners while Florida and Malibu are the social butterflies.

T-Minus 10 Seconds

Last night I had the good fortune of being on a beach about 115 miles south of Cape Canaveral, Florida watching the launch of the space shuttle Discovery. I've long been fascinated by space shuttles. I remember one time when I was a kid my family and I were in South Carolina and my dad offered to drive us to Florida to see the launch. But we decided against it, and good thing too because that launch got delayed. (And the one that went yesterday was supposed to go Wednesday when I was not in Florida. Lucky for me it went last night!)
The atmosphere was really fun-- there were lots of people on the beach and some smart ones had brought binoculars (I was jealous!) The launch took place at twilight -- the sky was a bright periwinkle over the ocean and a hazy peach as the sun set over land. We knew it was supposed to go at 7:43 pm (e.s.t) and so right then everyone was excitedly scanning the sky. Right on schedule it just appeared and headed up, up and over the ocean. Everyone cheered. It made a sort of arc in the sky and then we could see the rocket boosters separate from the shuttle and drop in the ocean. For a while I was able to keep my eyes on both the boosters and the shuttle simultaneously but then I switched to just watching the shuttle until it disappeared from our view. We even heard a slight reverberation as the shuttle left the earth's atmosphere and entered outer space.
Long after the shuttle was out of sight a long trail of its smoke (a bright orange colour - absorbed from the setting sun) stayed in a long vertical line in the darkening sky, reminding us that just a few short moments before it had been there, hurtling through the Florida sky...