I want to go to there...

So I found my dream cottage.

Let me back up. I sometimes experience what people call "stress". This "stress" causes me to stare endlessly at walls, eat food without tasting it, and fall sound asleep before I've pulled the covers up. It also forces me into a very decadent past time; looking at real estate I will never be able to afford.

Let's get this straight. I love my house. It is super cute and anyone who has visited it knows that it is quaint, tidy, and very girly. Case in point...



But sometimes, I get the urge to live somewhere else. In particular, I would like to have a cottage in the English countryside, preferably with a view of the hills or the sea or the filming of a Jane Austen novel. Maybe I want to live in a Jane Austen novel. Well, I would do it in an instant if I could also have indoor plumbing, modern feminine protection, and a job.

But this cottage is a real dream. And I can't get it out of my head. I'm obsessed.



I can picture myself sitting in front of the fire, reading a good book, sipping a cup of tea, waiting for the rain to stop so I can go pick some cucumbers from the gaahden. It is harmless (mostly) and indulgent, and I like it, okay? I look at the pile of work next to my computer, I look at the house... and just like Calgon, I'm transported to another world. A world where students don't email me while I'm on my vacation to ask whether or not I've put the extra credit in the gradebook that would inevitably bump their B plus to an A minus.... for example.

If you want to find your own English cottage then go to a site like this one.

I hope this Christmas you find peace and love and joy and happiness. Here's a tip... it doesn't come in a cottage in the English countryside.

The good wolf

I recently realized that when I am sharp and brusque to people, it means I need to take care of myself. I need to do things that are good for me. This isn't always easy in the age of
self-medication. I'd rather zone out playing angry birds or watch endless episodes of The Vicar of Dibley than workout, cook a good meal, read a good book. See, in my mind, I have always equated those things with "taking care of myself" but in reality, they are about
absenting myself so I don't have to deal with the blargh.

Recently, I read this story on one of my favorite blogs, Enjoying the Small Things

There is an ancient Native American story about an old Cherokee who told his grandson about the battle that goes on within us. "My son," he told him, "Inside every one of us dwells two wolves, one evil, one good. The evil one is angry and jealous, full of regret and arrogance, greed and sorrow, guilt and self-pity. The other is good. He is kind and loving, full of hope and peace, joy and compassion."

The young boy thought about it for a moment. "Which wolf wins?" he asked his
grandfather.

The old Cherokee smiled and simply replied, "...the one you feed."

I know my evil wolf relishes that self-medication because it allows him to grow more fierce and snappish. But in this time of year (especially this crazy, busy, sweepingly fast-paced time of year) I want to be engaged and present. I want to be healthy and focused, not vegetative and lazy. I have a feeling I might come back from break feeling refreshed if I take the time to really recharge the batteries. My good wolf likes reading good books, dancing to Lady GaGa, painting my toenails blood red, singing out loud in the car, talking with friends, and stretching my arms wide. My good wolf isn't afraid to take 20 minutes to do something good. This Christmas season, which wolf will you feed?