round two with the gingerbread.

Mrs. Lewis brought home more gingerbread house kits for us. 

"This time," I told myself, "I'll prove my architecture prowess."

The next door neighbors' Christmas lights served as my inspiration.

That should give a clue as to what their house looks like.

We weren't taking any chances. No collapsing, sliding roofs this time.

Now, after reading the post before this one,
do you know who made which house?

I know, it's pretty close to perfect.
I would live in it if I was made of gingerbread.

No, I didn't learn my "less is more" lesson.
I couldn't resist using all the fruit candy! Who doesn't
want bananas on their house?

gingerbread houses: a study in sturdiness.

Nothing says "holiday festivities" quite like gingerbread houses. I like to eat the candy as I build... here's what's on display in the Lewis kitchen:

A  masterpiece. I try to incorporate as much candy as possible.

Mer's house. Okay, yes, I can see how sometimes "less is more."

Those are some frightening eyes on that ginger-kid.
Maybe he's been driven mad by the fact that I forgot to create
a door (or windows), so he has no way to enter his gingerbread abode.

Goodbye gum-drops! This is the point where things started to go awry.

"Not to worry! Toothpicks!" -mer's solution.

There goes the other side.

"It's the cowboys stadium! A retractable roof!"-mer
"It's solar power! Sustainable energy!" -me

thanksgiving break.

It's about time I headed back to Texas and I'm definitely looking forward to it. I already have books packed for the plane ride there and back. I haven't started packing clothes yet because Augustus always knows something's up and he gets upset... I think he'd be happiest if I chucked him into my giant pink LLBean bag, along with some sweaters, boots, and  jeans. SO my plan of packing action is to resume folding, rolling, and stuffing after I drop off the little bug at Kelly's house. He'll figure out just a little too late... it's sad, but hey, tough love, right?

"Put me in your bag. I will sit here to make you feel guilty until you do this."

Anyway, I'm not bringing my computer with me. Camera, yes, of course. But computer... not likely. Soooo... according to proper blogging etiquette, I'm supposed to make a note of the fact that I'll be skipping any posts for about a week. And although my followers are few (this sound like a cult), I'm always one for following rules and acknowledging etiquette of any kind.

During my 5 years at Baylor, I was in Texas for Thanksgiving break more than I was in Virginia. Austin and McKinney. And now it will be equal! Two Thanksgivings in Austin, two in McKinney (well... Texarkana, actually, BUT the home base is McKinney).

Austin with Rachel. Ha.

We crafted this handsome fellow.

At the Dallas Arboretum with Mer (McKinney)

morning colors.

On my way to Smythe Park... at Smythe Park... and back to Augustus.

Apparently, there's not only a theme of reflections on water, but also of ducks. 

Although I think alligators would be more adventurous photos,

 they never make an appearance when I actually have my camera.

Standard.

I think his stance is quite regal.

because i was reminded yesterday...

"I am a writer because writing is the thing I do best." [flannery o'connor]

 It used to bother me like crazy in the dorm rooms when I was a freshman, and throughout college, it was just a reminder of busywork, studying, and research papers at the library or other study buildings, but from daily time spent at the magazine, I've grown accustomed to the background of softly clicking keyboards.
And I like it.
It's definitely the change of setting. Without a doubt. And it signifies some form of productivity to me now. Especially when the tap-dancing typing sounds are coming from my own keyboard.
I think using a vintage typewriter—like the one above—would provide me with a lovely tool to get some creative writing flowing from my fingers. I need to get my hands on one. asap.

 

And this would the ideal writing nook. Obviously, this would be "story writing" writing, not the magazine stuff (how useful is the word "stuff" by the way? it's so versatile and applicable to so much when i can't be descriptive...). I need big, graceful windows. Always. 

And if (more like, when) I have my very own writing barn, tree-house, garden house... this would be an example of the windows and view out.

Fresh, light, simple. 

writer-y, writer-ish. 

 

good reads.

"what in the world would we do without our libraries?" [Katharine Hepburn]

I won't lie. I dreaded the library at Baylor. I tried my best to avoid it at all costs.

I placed a high value on its color printing capacities, but that

was pretty much my only reason to go there.

Yes, my freshman year I DID in fact check out Alice in Wonderland.

I don't know why... I think it was on display, so I grabbed it.

Anyway,  I love non-university libraries. And a library is made even more

superb in my mind when I can ride my bike there.

The Daniel Island Library is only a bike ride away (what isn't on this island, though?),

so that's where I spent some time this morning.

And after loading up my bike with new books,

I thought, "hmmm... I could make this a neat photo project."

the belleville was meant to be accessorized with library books.

Ribbon belts still come in handy.

katharine hepburn, jackie & lee bouvier, john grogan's columns, mark twain,
marie antoinette's daughter, and my new obsession
 with books by michael pollan— they all have a place on the belleville.

he's wondering if he's being traded for library books since they were
taking up all the room in the basket. thank goodness for the front rack, huh?

nineteen stars that i give your name tonight.

"And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it." [Roald Dahl]

The night sky was so bright and halcyon when I took Augustus out before bed.

I could gaze at the shimmery constellations forever, 

but I only get about three named

before my memory from memorizing them in 4th grade gives out.

The dialogue—predictable as ever— usually sounds like this:

"Oh look, Augustus! The sky is dazzling! Look at the constellations! I can see

the little dipper... the big dipper... orion's belt... and..."

I know what I'll be checking out from the library next. Constellation section, anyone?

stars and dreams.

And so it is.

"the truth does not change according to our ability to stomach it." [flannery o'connor]

i think this photo is from here.

So, I'm getting closer to heading to my "thinking spot" —as Winnie the Pooh would say—in order to figure out what I'm going to do after this internship at the magazine is over. Ideally, I'd just stay there and keep doing what I'm doing because I absolutely love it and feel it's where I belong. Plus, I love our dress code... And that's an important aspect. 

But truly, when I'm in the middle of my editorial tasks, my mind is rarely elsewhere and even the smallest project seems like a special accomplishment when I complete it. I guess the fact that I feel useful and like I'm doing a more than adequate job with my assignments makes it  all the better. And I'm always, always learning. Constantly. And the best part is, and what makes it so much better than school, is that I'm RETAINING the knowledge I'm gaining, and APPLYING it.

And then the fact that I look forward to heading into Mount Pleasant and arriving to the offices can't be overlooked. At all. Isn't that key?

The whole thing's fun for me. I enjoy it immensely. 

Indispensable... my theme.

And so it is.

"I'll be your flowers."

Little kids' interpretations of words and phrases are pretty funny to me. And with baby-sitting, I get to hear a lot of them.
For instance, I told Sara something about Cinderella and her fairy godmother, and she switched the title around to "merry godfather"... which actually makes complete sense. No one ever mentions a merry godfather, but I just think of the fairy godmother's husband (who would be comparable to Santa Clause).
As we continued our walk to the playground, Sara asked me if I was "ready to be married"... well, sure... I guess...
She went on to add, "When you will be married, I will be your flowers."
I took that to mean she has intentions of filling the role of a flower-girl. It sounds like a great plan to me, and we pinky-promised that it would happen. 
Since I'm putting my wedding in Sara's capable 4-year-old hands, I was informed that she also would be finding a prince for me. How gracious. It happened pretty quickly—apparently my prince was at the top of the playground castle. But since I couldn't make it all the way up there, Sara assured me that she would take care of things and stick the prince "in a treasure box" and bring him down to me. Thank goodness.

quite the artiste.

The Art Project.

The Artiste, Lucy Cogan.

"And do you know what these band-aids are?"
...
"Bridges!"

Finding words for a more in-depth description of The Art Project.

Ta-da!! And The Art Project's next journey
is to the Children's Museum of the Lowcountry.

slightly frustrated. slightly tired.

kicking leaves here.

I could use a nice, freshly raked pile of leaves right now. 
Definitely an appropriate way to vent now that fall has rolled around...

But unfortunately, no such leaf piles abound at the magazine office today.

For now, I'll just have to put "jump in a pile of leaves" 
as number one on my to-do list,

and look around for the next best substitute 
to relieve this editorial-intern-duties frustration.

Blast.

persistence, stubbornness, and the rest.

At the end of my first field hockey season, each team member received 
a "personal award";

my award was "packed with persistence" and I remind myself of that any time I need to persevere through something...

or just keep pestering someone else until I get what I want from them.

So that could be translated into two characteristics to describe my personality:

perseverance or stubbornness.

I refuse to let go or give up on lots of things, whether it's a goal, a relationship, 
or an opinion...

no matter how many times I'm told it's not going to work the way I see it working.

It probably explains why I'm so stuck on the whole "second chance" theory.

That shows persistence because it's kind of like 
"if at first you don't succeed, try, try again."

So to me, that makes sense. Give it another go,
 one more chance to show what you can do.

Believe in it.