friends

Friends During Quarantine

/ Lori McLeese / 8 Comments

I had a hankering for egg salad. Who knows why. Maybe it’s because I thought it was the advent of spring, even though it was 50 degrees outside? Maybe because I was nostalgic for Sunday afternoons of my childhood?

I read the recipe carefully. “Boil a large pot of water and carefully lower the eggs into the water, making sure the shells don’t crack.” Well, goodness. the first two eggs into the pot of water cracked. Now what?

As I pulled the eggs out of the boiling water and doused them in ice water, I laughed at the two cracked eggs. One had a mustache and one had a toupee. And I couldn’t bring myself to crack them (more), because of the dynamic conversations that they were having. At some point, I’ll eat them. But for now, they’re great companions. Cracked Eggs.jpg

Pandemic Surprises

/ Lori McLeese / Leave a comment

One of the things that I’ve loved about this pandemic is porch surprises – both given and received. It’s a delight to drop something off on someone’s porch and text them, “Surprise waiting for you on the bench outside your door next to your rain boots!” or “Enjoy what’s in the brown paper bag on your porch!” And equally delightful to receive a similar message. I received a message saying there was a piece of funfetti cake on my porch (and who doesn’t love brightly colored cake with sprinkles?!?) and was delighted to be able to talk to the givers from a distance, because I immediately ran out to fetch the said slice of cake.

I’m taking a class on the science of well being. One of the ways to increase happiness is to interrupt it, so that you don’t get used to it (hedonistic adaptation), and then you can have multiple instances of happiness. I thought about this when I took a first bite of the cake. It was so good! I can’t remember when I last had cake. Gosh. The sweetness. The sugaryness. The crunch of the colorful sprinkles on the icing. I thought about the principles I had learned about happiness. I told myself I’d have just one more bite, then save the rest for later. And I had one more bite. And one more. And one more. And then I ate the whole thing. And I was pretty darn happy.

Funfetti Cake

I forget to take a picture until it was gone…

The Magic of the Cape

/ Lori McLeese / 2 Comments

A while ago, a dear friend sent me a postcard from Cape Cod. And happened to mention that I should come visit on a future date when she’s there with her family. And I thought, “Yes!”

And then this year came, which has simply been hard. And she reached out and acknowledged it’s been a hard year, and wouldn’t I like to join her family in September on the Cape? She warned me that they were spectacular loafers. And I thought, “Yes!”

And I booked my tickets for a long weekend, and dreamed of lobster rolls.

And then got news that the company that I work for, Automattic, would be closing on the acquisition of Tumblr the exact dates that I planned to be on the Cape. And I thought, “Noooooo….”

I pondered. Should I cancel the trip? I talked to a colleague and she suggested that our work would be done well before closing (and in a perfect world it would have been). I thought about it some more and decided to go to the Cape and work from there as needed.

And there were things to be done, right up until the minute we closed. And I sat wrapped in my hoodie on the porch with a cool Cape breeze blowing and sent offer letters. And reviewed immigration cases. And responded to emails. And reminded myself that we get one shot at this life and I was on the Cape with a dear friend and her lovely family and jigsaw puzzles and lobster rolls and people who loafed like it was their job and their laid back attitude permeated the very air surrounding us. And each day before opening my computer I took the time to say good morning, and chit chat, and add a few pieces to the jigsaw puzzle, and dream about lobster rolls for lunch. And it might have been my most perfect vacation yet.

 

Chilled lobster roll
Cape Cod House
Approaching Boston
Walk along the bay
From the Ferry
Cape Cod Jigsaw
Children’s Books Jigsaw
Heaven
Warm lobster roll
Islands Jigsaw

Getting Ready

/ Lori McLeese / 4 Comments

Disaster preparedness is a funny thing. When we got news that Florence was predicted to hit the NC coast and then storm its way across the state, I went to the grocery store. I wandered up and down the aisles, thinking, “What would I want to eat in a storm?” And then had to amend that with, “…that doesn’t need to be cooked/warmed/refrigerated?” I bought some canned foods, some peanut butter, a few apples, and some snacks. Snacks feel like a treat. I don’t usually keep them in the house (popcorn, potato chips, candy) and I quickly realized why. I work from home. Every so often I’ll wander into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. And then I’ll see snacks in the cupboard and think, “Oh! Snacks!” and then I’m staring at an empty bag of potato chips. So, basically, each day of sunny, gorgeous weather requires another trip to the grocery store to replenish hurricane snacks already eaten.

Having lived in San Francisco for so long, it’s second nature to have flashlights/batteries/candles/waterproof matches within reach. So I feel good there. I bought some bottled water and placed it strategically around the house. I’ve charged all my electronics and unplugged anything that doesn’t need to be plugged in.

I’ve cleaned – washed all the sheets, towels, clothes. I’m not sure why I thought this was a good idea before a storm, but it’s almost like company’s coming. I’ve made extra pitchers of ice tea. I’ve taken out the trash and vacuumed the floors. “Gotta get ready for Florence! She may be here a couple of days!”

One of the nicest things, though, is how many friends who are not in the area have reached out. It feels funny to be talking about storm prep when it’s 75 degrees out and sunny, but I know the weather can change at any point. And it’s been lovely reconnecting with friends and catching up. So, thanks for that, Florence.

Abundance

/ Lori McLeese / 26 Comments

Today I turn fifty. I’m not really sure what I expected fifty to feel like, but I don’t feel much different than before. In no way was I dreading this birthday; I’ve loved birthdays that end in “0”s in the same way that I’ve loved birthdays with the same double digits (11, 22, 33, 44, etc). They feel more special than the others. I love that my birthday is the same day as Loving Day (and off by just one year from the actual pronouncement). I like to think that I was born of a generation that recognized equality for all (I know that we haven’t, though). I’m saddened that two years ago my birthday was the day of the Pulse nightclub shootings in Orlando, Florida. For the past three years, it’s made me reflect on how much work we still have to do with regards to gun control, tolerance, and acceptance. These feelings mix with each other in a fabric that can only be described as human.

The overwhelming feeling that I’m feeling this year, however, is grateful. So incredibly grateful.

I moved back to North Carolina in September last year. I looked forward to moving to a smaller city after living in San Francisco for twenty-five years. I looked forward to quiet, to calm, to a slower pace of life, and to being closer to mountain trails. And I’ve found all of those. And more. I’ve found community, and kindness, and friendliness. As I planned to move, though, I did think to myself, “I’m kind of sad I won’t be in San Francisco to celebrate my 50th birthday.” San Francisco is where my friends are – the ones who I’ve known for twenty plus years. When I was moving, I envisioned having dinner at a nice restaurant in Asheville by myself on my birthday. A lovely birthday, but perhaps a lonely one.

Yet that’s not what happened.

Earlier in the year, a few friends said that they wanted to fly to Asheville to celebrate with me. I was taken aback. Flying to Asheville isn’t the easiest thing to do. It’s a tiny, charming, regional airport with very few direct flights to anywhere. So I planned a few events – a lunch at a favorite local restaurant, Rhubarb, an evening at Biltmore to see Chihuly’s work, a bbq at my house. And the weekend so far exceeded any expectations I could have imagined.

Friends from college met friends from San Francisco met friends from Atlanta met friends from New York met friends from Asheville met friends from water aerobics class met family. Everyone loved getting to know each other. There was amazing food (hello, bbq!) and engaging conversation. There were bouquets among bouquets of flowers (my absolute favorite gift in the world). And there was love. So much love in the air.

A local friend told me, “Just enjoy the present moment. You never know what will come next. But you can love, and appreciate, what you have right now.” Great advice not just for birthdays, but for every day. 

Chihuly at the Biltmore
Hiking at Grove Park
Mom and Dad and me
A table full of friends
RBG at the Fine Arts Theater
View of the Blue Ridge Mountains from the Loggia at Biltmore
College friendship – still going strong
Chihuly in the Winter Garden at Biltmore
Look closely and you’ll see fireflies
Benneflour birthday cake at Rhubarb
Beware of bears!
Happiest of birthdays
Publix birthday cake – my favorite!
Chihuly and Koi

 

Beautiful Banff

/ Lori McLeese / 2 Comments

We met in San Francisco in the late nineties/early naughts. We formed a fast friendship, even when one, then another, then another, then another moved away (then one moved back). We met up in new homes, on vacation, on work trips around the world, keeping in touch via group texts, Facebook, and occasional calls. When we met up it was usually in twos or threes, rarely all four of us in the same place. This year we decided to plan a long weekend away together – all four of us. As we started planning, we aimed for a spot none of us had been and decided on Banff, Canada. From the moment we landed in the airport (“Yes to YYC”) to the moment we left, Canada delighted us. Highlights of the trip included:

  • scenics drives along the Trans-Canada Highway
  • free admission to Banff National Park (Happy Birthday, Canada!)
  • an extraordinary dinner at Three Ravens
  • stunning views from our lodge (and it had a fireplace!)
  • waffles and bacon for breakfast
  • a hike around Lake Louise (I never knew water could be so breathtakingly blue) and up to Plain of Six Glaciers Teahouse
  • hot tomato soup, crusty bread, and hot chocolate at the Teahouse
  • dusting of snow
  • a hike in Johnston Canyon to the Lower Falls, Upper Falls, then on to the Ink Pots
  • Thanksgiving poutine (turkey and stuffing and gravy over french fries? be still my beating heart…)
  • a soak in the Banff Upper Hot Springs at dusk
  • late night and early morning conversations in jammies
  • four fabulous days with three dear friends.

This really was a great idea.

Yes to YYC (photo by Megan WIlliams)
View from the backseat
The best welcoming committee ever!
View from our lodge
Lake Louise
Walking around Lake Louise
Climbing up the trail
Looking back at Lake Louise
Plain of Six Glaciers Tea House (photo by Megan Williams)
Panorama
Best lunch ever (photo by Megan Williams)
Group shot at the Plain of Six Glaciers Tea House
Back at Lake Louise
Scenes from the highway
Johnston Canyon
Selfie at Johnston Canyon
Further up Johnston Canyon
Ink Pots
Ink Pots 2
Selfie at the Ink Pots
Johnston Canyon Falls
Leaving Johnston Canyon
Scenes from the highway 2
Because no great story starts with a salad
Hot Springs at dusk
Banff Upper Hot Springs

Surgery – a Play in Three Acts

/ Lori McLeese / 10 Comments

Act I
I didn’t think it was that serious. I fell while hiking and figured I had sprained my ankle. Rest, ice, compression, and elevation. Repeat. After two weeks I couldn’t flex my foot and each morning I would wake up to find it more swollen than when I went to bed the night before. I went to a doctor, then a specialist. She said, “See how your ankle is moving like that?” I enthusiastically said, “Yes!” for some reason thinking that was a good thing. “It’s not supposed to move like that.” Oh. An MRI and x-ray revealed I had torn all the ligaments in my ankle, as well as chipped part of the cartilage. Surgery was pretty much my only option.

I had multiple pre-op appointments and learned that after the surgery I wouldn’t be able to travel for a few weeks. That I should keep my leg elevated to reduce swelling. That I should apply ice, and that I may be nauseous afterwards from the general anesthesia. That I’d be in a cast for approximately six weeks, with three of those on crutches. We talked about the procedure, who would perform it, and what I could expect afterwards. I was feeling pretty optimistic.

Act II
I groggily woke up after the surgery, somewhat disoriented, and finding it difficult to form words. My friend Warren picked me up, drove me home, and explained to my parents (who were in town visiting) all the doctors had shared. I slept.

I woke up a few hours later. Oh, my goodness. Doctor, I think you buried the lede. We talked about a lot of things pre-op, but never did you mention “You’re going to be in excruciating pain. For days.”

Maybe this seems like common knowledge, but for someone who has never had real surgery, the kind where they cut you open, it seems like kind of an important detail. Knowing I would be in pain wouldn’t have prevented me from having surgery, but I wouldn’t have questioned my sanity as I woke up every 43 minutes during the night from searing pain, wondering, “Is it normal that I’m about to go Incredible Hulk on this cast and bust out of it?”

Act III
The pain subsided around day five post surgery. Not disappeared, but subsided to the point where I felt somewhat normal again. And grateful. Being on crutches has slowed me down. I notice more details. I’m more deliberate about decisions. I appreciate, more than ever, having a small apartment. I notice so many acts of kindness, both large and small. I love that my parents left homemade chicken soup in the refrigerator before they left. I am appreciative that strangers hold open doors for me and that Uber drivers help me in and out of their cars. I love that friends stop by in the evening, just to say hi. Or to make dinner. Or to do the dishes. It’s lovely to open an email with movie or book recommendations. Or open the door and find an Amazon package there, someone sending well wishes. I look down and smile at the brightly colored scribbles on my cast, artwork by friends’ children. This isn’t so bad after all.