HEY!

I'm featured here today! Please stop by and check it out.

I've never been featured anywhere before. I feel so special! Thank you so much for wanting to interview me, Irene.

{Ahem, so the interview may be in Español...but you can still leave a comment and say things like "hola" or "quesadilla"--whatever you know in Spanish. Or just comment in English!}

{Please don't leave a comment saying "quesadilla" on Irene's blog. She'll think Americans are crazy.}

this post has no cohesive theme

{As I look back at the post I just wrote, I can't help but wonder how my initial plans to just jot a few lines turned into an epic novel... I am such a rambler.}

This is probably one of the warmest places I've ever lived during Winter...and yet it has felt like the longest winter of my life. I don't remember if I've talked (read: complained) about this on the blog, but pisos in Andalucia are F-R-E-E-Z-I-N-G. They are built to keep in the cool in the miserably hot summers, but they do just as good of a job at keeping the cold in in the winter. Add the fact that our floors are marble and it's the worst. It didn't really get cold outside until late November, but starting early October my roommate and I began freezing in the piso. I mean, I can see my breath inside most days. At first we just had to suffer. Then our landlord brought us our brasero. Guys, how have I not written a love letter to braseros here yet? Although I firmly believe that my piso may be the coldest of any here in the south, all houses/pisos are pretty cold. So what did the Spanish do? They invented braseros.

{TANGENT:}

A brasero is basically a huge fire hazard that I love and can't live without. You take a heater. You stick it under a table. You cover the table with a very thick blanket/table-cloth hybrid (called a faldilla, more or less). Ta-da brasero! Then, you sit with your family/roommate/whoever around the brasero. And you never leave. Seriously. When I come home everyday the first thing I or my roommate do is turn the brasero on. Even the private lessons I give at people's homes are all conducted around their braseros. And when you have to get up to get something, you basically shiver and cry.

Right, this post is getting off-track, if there really was a track at all. To sum up: Sometimes it's happy sunshiney and warm outside but it's about 30 degrees inside so I stick my icicle feet under the faldilla and am happy and content all day as long as I don't have to get up to eat or use the bathroom or what have you. Of course, the problem is what happens at night when you have to leave the brasero. Turns out we also have central heating in our piso (kind of rare for Spain) BUT it's freakishly expensive so we never use it. We turn it on an hour or so before bed to heat up the rooms but then it goes off when we sleep. Well, without fail I have woken up every morning since about November 1st around 6a.m. just freezing so hard I want to cry. I sleep under about 4 blankets, on fleece sheets, in a sweatshirt and sweatpants (before Spain I never slept in more than shorts and a tank top!), and it got so ridiculous that the hat my mom sent me to wear in bed--I actually started wearing it! Anyway, so I would wake up and feel my face and laugh/cry at the fact that it was freezing to the touch and how pathetic it all was and then I would rush down the hall, my bare feet on that icy marble floor, and turn on the heater. It was that or not sleep for the precious two hours I had left before I had to get up.

WELL. Two nights ago I made a legen--waitforit!--dary discovery and I swear I danced for joy in my hallway at 1a.m. and may have cried a few happy tears. On one hand, maybe I should feel pathetic and depressed that I didn't make this obvious discovery sooner, say like 3 months ago, and saved myself so much misery--but whatever, I'll just stick with blissfully happy. GUYS: My central heating control panal has a TIMER. As in, I can program it to go on automatically at around the time I usually wake up from the cold! No more 6a.m. runs down the hall while my tears freeze to my face! Sure, I still have to sleep like an eskimo, but at least I can get out of bed in a semi-toasty room.

If I had to pick out what the central message from this long rambly post is I would have to say it's this: I am so ready for Spring.

For you.

If your name is….

Patricia. Richard. Jennifer. Christopher. Graydon. Leonor. Mitchell. Jose. Dolores. Patti. Judy. Tom. Jim. Ivan. Anna. Jane. Michael. David. Stephanie. Elise. Jen. Jenni. Megan. Sue. Donny. Cristina. Samantha. Kelley. Katherine. Ja. Taryn. Scott. Ali. Janie. Haley. Kellie. Anne. Kelsey. Stephanie. Laura. Shannon. Lauren. Katie. Katie. Katie (there are so many Kates/Katies in the world!) Elyse. Rocío. Irene. Kelsey. Liz. Anne. Alex. Carmen. Carlos. Liz. Andres. Amanda. Allison. Ted. Teresa. Justine. Nicole. Lisa. Sabs. Jori. Liss. (Your name here.)

Then I love you.

(I'm sorry I didn't name everyone specifically. The list would go on forever!)

Once upon a time you changed my life. It might’ve been a brief encounter, a small gesture that meant the world to me. Maybe you’ve been a long-standing part of my life. Maybe you once spared me a smile and kind word when I needed it most. I don’t discriminate with love.

Sometimes people say “love” is an overused word. They’re not wrong. Do we really “love” that new shirt? That piece of chicken? That blog? But when it comes to people, I think we should never be too careful and closed off with love. I am a very open person with my love and friendship. I am eager to love you as a friend, an advisor, a confidant, a family member, romantically, a kindred spirit, or whatever the situation may be. Yes, this means that I open myself up to a lot of hurt. By not withholding my love I have put myself in situations where I was hurt by friends many times before. But I have no plans to change the way I function. In the end, I live a much happier life being willing to love without reservation than by closing myself off.

Today, I am sending a little love your way. Remember that you deserve it, no matter if you’re single, dating or married. I hope you have plenty of love in your life—remember it comes in many different shapes and sizes. Love is so much more than just the romantic kind. If you’re not afraid to give love out, you will see how fully you get it back.

{Related: This Post}

Sopa de Ajo

The first time I traveled to Spain was in the winter of 2003-2004. My family and I explored Andalucia taking in the culture, the sights and the tastes.

Unfortunately in 2003/2004 I was 15 and had a very unsophisticated palette. While my family feasted on Spanish culinary delights, I stuck to the basics. One of these basics was Sopa de Ajo--garlic soup. I love garlic, as does my family. It's always been a staple so it's no surprise I took to Sopa de Ajo quickly and pretty much stuck with it at every restaurant we went to.

{Alhambra in Granada with the sister; December 2003.}

Luckily, what my parents always told me as a picky-eater child--"your tastes will change as you grow!"--proved true. Now I will try anything and enjoy most types of food. Seriously, sometimes I'm amazed at how far I've come. Guys, I used to hate mustard and parmesian cheese. Who hates parmesian cheese? I love ALL cheese!

My parents are coming to visit in March and one of the things I'm most excited about, ranking just below seeing them for the first time in 6 months and traveling, is eating with them. I really haven't tried anything here that I haven't liked and I've tried a lot of things! I think it will be such a fun change from our last time together in Spain.

(Ok, pate. I don't like pate. And Spaniards seem to eat it ALL the time.)

{Royal Palace in Madrid with Jen and Mom; January 2004.}

Anyway, I woke up sick again today. That's 3 times in 3 months. My immune system was clearly not prepared to work with children. This time I'm barely even fazed by it. I'm just chugging tea (although I really always do that) and tonight I made a big pot of Sopa de Ajo. It's really good for your immune system! And I never really need an excuse to cook anything that calls for lots of garlic.

These pictures are unrelated to the post but they're from Spain and I can't upload anything new. The post is a sort of unrelated to the post. Maybe I shouldn't write when my mind is hazy and my thoughts are distracted because I can't remember finishing my cup of tea but I must've cause now it's empty...

I think I'll have some more garlic soup.

Buen fin de semana, amigos.

EDIT

In my clearer state of mind it occured to me that maybe I should post the recipe for this delicious soup in case anyone ever wants to try it. Except that I sort of combined a few recipes and really I just improv in the kitchen, so I will type up how I do it and hopefully it'll work for you

Garlic--you choose the amount. Recipes say 4 cloves. I added about 8 BIG cloves. I love garlic.

Meat based broth. I use chicken bouillon and add it to the...

1 Quart of water

Half a loaf of French bread. I like for it to be slightly stale.

3 eggs

Ok, so I sautee the crushed garlic in a little bit of hot oil until golden. Then I add the 4 cups of broth to a large pot with the garlic and bring to a boil. Once it's boiled, put the temperature on low and let it simmer for about 20 minutes. Meanwhile, I cut the bread into rounds and then cut those in half (I just prefer this size, you can adjust) and then toast them with oil in a pan. Also, beat the eggs together. After the soup has simmered for about 20 minutes you remove it from the heat and immediately stir in the egg. (It appears kind of like egg drop soup.) Now I throw a few of the toasted rounds in the bottom of the bowl and serve the soup on top, but you could add them later or just dip them if you don't like the soggy texture.

It's super easy and delicious. Let me know if you try it out!

A little birthday love

You guys, something awesome must have been in the water once upon a time in May….because two of my very best friends in the world were born 9 months after on February 6 and 7th (respectively)!

¡Feliz Cumpleaños Lauren and Shannon!

Lauren,

My beautiful soul-sister bestie, I am so grateful that you came into my life. You are one of the most caring people I know and you have always been there to support and help me in bad times and to cheer with me in good ones. One of the best things about you is your view of life, the world and your fellow human-beings. You have inspired and influenced me in the best of ways. Thanks to you, I learned to look at the world around me differently and when I was miserable in Spain you taught me through example to look for the beauty in the small things. Without your friendship I may never have learned to be happy in Spain and see my pueblo and life for the true beauty that is in them. I know you are having an amazing birthday at the place where dreams come true… making one of your dreams come true! I am sending you so much love from Spain and wishing that 23 will be your best year yet!

{September 2010}

Shannon,

I don’t know what I would do without my most Kindred Spirit. Who would I drink raspberry cordial with? Who would I swoon over Gilbert Blythe with? But more importantly, who would I have deep philosophical conversations about life, love, and faith with? You are such a loyal friend and a beautiful example of positivity, strength and joy in this often negative world. I am so grateful for every conversation we have—they’re always a wonderful mix of quirky, serious and fun. You constantly show me what it means to be a woman of faith and a caring friend and I always feel a renewed sense of purpose and Christ’s love when I speak with you. I am eternally grateful for your friendship in my life! I hope year 26 is a year of new opportunities and following dreams for you. Remember: Progress is good! I’ll try to think of some great analogies for year 26 for you soon. ; )

{July 2010}

So much love to you both!

xo
Kate

as small as a world and as large as alone

maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach(to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn’t remember he troubles,and

milly befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and

may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it’s always ourselves we find in the sea.

--E.E. Cummings

E.E. Cummings is one of my favorite poets. I posted once about my favorite love poem of all time, which is his poem “i carry your heart with me.” If you’re not familiar with E.E. Cummings, I will point out that part of his poetry is the actual display of words and punctuation on the page. So, any lack of spaces, capitalization, strange punctuation, etc., is completely intentional.

I discovered the above when I took poetry during my sophomore year of college. Although the class was ridiculous because of my absurd teacher, I loved reading through our poetry anthology on my own. This poem has a childlike sing-song manner and imagery about it, but the last two stanzas stirred something in me when I first read them, and still do today.

Yesterday I made sure to get out of my piso for most of the day. After a very cold week the temperatures finally rose to a pleasant 13 degrees and it felt incredible to be outside. I ran errands, met with a friend, and window shopped. Finally, I headed up to my favorite bench in Parque de los Pinos. It faces east, and over the lines of rooftops I can see out to the campo. It was around 5pm when I sat down with my book, my journal and my thoughts. The sun was warm on my back and I played with the images my shadow projected onto the ground for a few minutes before letting my thoughts just flow out and into the breeze.

I once told my mom that I considered myself an outdoors-type and she laughed at me. She pictured what we probably all picture when we think “outdoors-type”: hiking boots, white water rafting, cutting down wood for a campfire and catching your own fish to cook over it, etc. Ok, I am not that outdoors-type. But I do love to be outside. I need the green, the open-air, the sounds of water or crinkling leaves or waves. When I first got to my pueblo, I felt suffocated by the small streets with tall buildings closing me in. After a few weeks I discovered the park at the top of the hill by the library that offered me a tiny respite from stone and concrete. I also discovered little bits of nature all around me and stopped taking them for granted. When I walk down the steep hill that leads from the center of town to the barrio bajo (lower neighborhood) where I live, I can see out to the countryside and I feel relief. Every morning when I walk to the end of my street and across the river to head to my school, I feel a little exhilaration and a little decompression. I see the flowing murky water, the various plants growing from the embankment, the jagged hillside and the smooth hillside flowing together, and the various colors of the sky on that particular day.

I may not be a hard-core outdoors girl, but I need nature. I love going to the coast and seeing the water stretch out and on into infinity. I love going into my precious Colorado mountains and seeing how the view changes with each bend in the road and I love hiking high up into the sky and away from the worries and problems of everything down below. Open fields, creeks, wide lakes, dessert sand, rolling hills, winding rivers—I love them all. Every type of nature and scenery has its own glory.

What’s more, I think that being outside helps me discover things about myself. I feel like I can do my best thinking when I’m not confined by walls. I find things I thought I’d lost in myself. I redefine my world and its limitations. I let things go and breathe more deeply.

When I first read the last two stanzas of Mr. Cummings poem, I identified with them. They speaks to something I know. I appreciate the light and care-free subject of the poem mixed with what I find to be a very powerful ending.

“For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it’s always ourselves we find in the sea”

And beyond all that, I just love the way this poem sounds rolling off of my tongue.

Side note: Thanks to the beautiful homage to writing and its importance in the book “Matched,” I have taken on a little goal of trying to study and memorize some poetry this year. I was really moved by the idea of keeping words inside of us because there they cannot be destroyed. Anyway, I felt I was getting undue credit when I mentioned that I recorded the Shel Silverstein poem from memory—while that was true, it was a recent memorization and not one from childhood which I think is what some of you thought. In reality, I selected that poem as my first. I love having the words with me. I find myself using them to brighten up when I’m feeling sad. The poem in today’s post is my second memorization.

Good Vibrations

(If you've never seen The OC you are about to not understand anything I say. Sorry.)

“Happy high vibrations attract happy high vibrational circumstances.
Yucky low vibrations attract yucky low vibrational circumstances.”

I’m not going to lie to you guys, I basically always wish I was Summer Roberts. Not early Season 1 Summer, but end-of-Season 1 and onwards. First of all, she’s adorable and petite and fashionable, three things which I am not. Second of all, she has Cohen. I want Cohen. Third, she just basically wins at life. Her scenes are always my favorite. Rage black-outs. Princess Sparkles. When her and Cohen dance to “Wonderwall,” Ryan Adams version. Just golden.

“I had a boyfriend…he sailed away.” (“Sailing is so like not the fastest way to get anywhere.”)

“It’s like one guitar and a whole lot of complaining!” (And I actually love Death Cab, but this quote makes me laugh.)

Anyway, this weekend I think I’ll try to channel Summer and vibrate at a high frequency.

: )

the subtle grace of gravity

Today I bring you The Hush Sound.

I love The Hush Sound. I even got to see them live once. They randomly came to the itunes store at Park Meadows Mall (my local mall at home in CO) and did an in-store mini-concert. It was pretty cool! Afterwards they signed posters. All free!

Anyway, on to the music.

If you’re feeling like bouncing along to music, I suggest…



Honey off of their album “Goodbye Blues” (probably my favorite album of their’s.) This is the official video for the song and I rather like it.

And if you’re feeling melancholy/quiet this must go on your playlist…

(Ok so this video is RANDOM. I could not find any just basic videos of the song so it was either a tribute to Neville Longbottom or some anime video. Naturally, I picked Neville. But really you might just want to minimize the window and listen.)



You Are the Moon from their album “Like Vines”. I really love the lyrics to this song.

What do you think of The Hush Sound? Have you heard their music before?