Snow Day!

Winter Storm Jonas hit the northeast this past weekend, dumping two feet of snow on Jersey and NYC. I was scheduled to work Saturday and Sunday, but both shifts were cancelled due to the weather as well as a "travel ban" in Hoboken — and this California girl got to experience her first snow day! Truly, it was much like any other lazy Saturday: We stayed in, watched too much TV, cooked yummy food (G baked chocolate chip cookies!), I worked on my calligraphy, and we snuggled with the dogs. The hubs and I also got a lot of laughs watching our pups hobble around in their brightly colored booties, which they were not yet accustomed to, and explore the snow on our balcony. (Thank goodness for that balcony! We didn't have to venture outside while the blizzard was at its blustery peak.) The snowfall was mostly restricted to Saturday and, even though it is now Tuesday, there are still mounds of snow lining the streets and sidewalks as well as a pretty, white dusting on the neighborhood rooftops. Considering I've only been in falling snow twice before (during a college internship in Washington, D.C.), it was quite the sight to see. It was like a scene out of a movie, watching the snow slowly bury the cars on the street outside our apartment building and, the next day, watching neighbors dutifully shovel the sidewalk. We are most certainly not in California, anymore! The snow was coming down hard and fast and it was smart to stay inside, but a small part of me wishes we had ventured out into the storm, if only for a few minutes. But I'm sure we'll have another chance to play in the snow, make snow angels and build a snowman. Winter has only — finally — just arrived.

Thoughts on a Summer Evening

One of my favorite things about my evening walks in Weehawken (other than the view of NYC) is seeing fireflies dancing around the sidewalk and front yards. As a SoCal native, I had never seen fireflies in person so witnessing one a few weeks ago was quite the thrill. I was in awe with each blink of light.

Now, I have to say, fireflies are not all that pretty in their non-illuminated state. Some insect-phobic people like myself might call them strange looking, ugly even, and maybe a little scary. I truly don't enjoy when they fly up near me or my face. (It's the same way I felt about all the colorful dragonflies buzzing around in Florida, no matter how many times my husband assured me that they wouldn't bite or sting. I like bugs to keep their distance, pleaseandthankyou.)

However, fireflies are incredibly beautiful when they let their light shine. And they are even more stunning when strengthened by a community of their peers, their friends and family.

So, yes, they might just be weird little beetles with glowing lanterns on their tails—that's very scientific of me, right?—but they gave me a lot to think about during my evening walk last night and a few good reminders for us human folk:

Let your light shine. Don't dim your spark. Share your gifts. 

And surround yourself with people who encourage that inner glow.

(Photographs by Tsuneaki Hiramatsu 

via Smithsonian Magazine)

Happy Fourth!

Happy Independence Day from New Jersey! While this past month has been trying, to say the least, I'm going to do my best to focus on the positives today: my husband, who has been in Rhode Island since the beginning of June, is coming home this weekend to visit. This will be his third quick trip down to Jersey and while I loathe the fact that I still don't know when his boat will be coming home from dry dock for good and resuming a more normal schedule, I'm happy that I at least get to celebrate the holiday with him, especially since up until recently that didn't look like it would be the case. I'm not sure what our plans are, if we'll go out or stay in, but I'd be fine just staying home, making dinner, sitting out on our balcony and (hopefully) catching a glimpse of a few NYC fireworks. Whatever we do, I'm just glad we'll be doing it together.

Hope you and yours have a fun and safe Fourth of July!

I've Wanted to Be Here My Whole Life

The view from our apartment.

We arrived in our new town of Union City around 6 o’clock on June 5, exactly two weeks ago. After checking out (for the first time!) our new digs and unloading the car, we decided to take the dogs out for a much-needed long walk since they had spent the bulk of three days in a cramped backseat. Plus, we wanted to get a lay of the land and see what our new neighborhood was all about. 

We ended up running into a couple other dog owners, all friendly, who offered their knowledge of the area, including (upon my asking) exactly where to take our pups to relieve themselves in this concrete jungle. As I told one guy who called Union City the ‘burbs, this is a very urban suburbia to us native Southern Californians. No manicured sidewalks with miles of grass here. (I won’t even get into all the honking and the sirens and the general perpetual noise.) Anyway, both the couple and the man we spoke to insisted that we stroll a couple blocks thataway to JFK Boulevard East “to see what (we) moved here for.” We listened. And once we got to the Weekhawken waterfront, we were greeted with the most spectacular view of the New York City skyline, just beginning to light up the sky as the sun was setting. 

We continued walking along the path and gawking at the incredible scene just across the Hudson River, which until then I had really only seen on TV and in movies. The view seemed to get better and better as we went along, and I took another photo every couple steps. When we decided to turn back and head home—and in search of dinner—I stopped my husband first for one last look.

NYC at night, the illuminated Empire State Building taking center stage.

“Come here,” I said, motioning him to my side. “Let’s have a moment.”

I put my arm around G as we looked across the Hudson at the twinkling city lights. Moving is tough, military life can be tough, but I wanted us to have a moment where we just felt happiness and all the possibility before us.

“That’s New York City,” I said. “I’ve wanted to be here my whole life.”

And then I got all watery-eyed. I’m a sap like that. 

“My whole life” is an exaggeration to be sure, “since high school” might be more accurate, but it sure feels like I’ve waited forever. And now I’m finally here.

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When I wrote this post a week or so ago, before we had internet, the next sentence was an optimistic plea: "Let's make the most of it!" Even when I typed it the first time it didn't feel quite right, but I tried to trick myself into a mood of hopefulness and positivity by tapping into the feeling I had our first night in Jersey.

The truth is, our transition has not gone smoothly, and that's putting it mildly. The hubs has been in Rhode Island for 12 days and we're both still not sure when he'll be back. Each day some new problem pops up, delaying his return. And all our stuff from Florida has yet to be delivered. All our boxes hadn't even been weighed or placed on a moving truck on Monday, the estimated move-in date. So I'm still living in a mostly-empty apartment, sitting on the hardwood floor, sleeping on an air mattress, cooking with few kitchen utensils (I bought a couple cheap items at the store the other day) and growing increasingly tired of the limited clothing options I packed when we left St. Pete.

I'm actually starting to get used to the whole set-up and having my husband gone. But that doesn't make it feel any better. Except for two crazy mutts, I'm all alone in an unfamiliar place. Nevertheless, I am trying my best to regain that excited, the-world-is-your-oyster feeling, to find joy in small things and to know that there must be a light at the end of this tunnel—even if I can't quite see it yet.

Because once we're on the other side, I'm going to want to make the most of it.

View from Hamilton Park, a frequent stop on our morning and afternoon walks.