monday morning chatter

 (Liniers, Buenos Aires, January 2006)

Buen dia, or good morning for those of you who need to brush up on your Spanish skills. This morning I am a bit nostalgic for the city that still holds my heart: Buenos Aires. I remember my first morning in B.A. The alarm buzzed at 6:20am and somehow I found my way off the top bunk that swayed like a ship at sea and made it to the dimly lit bathroom. I splashed water on my face and bent down to lace up my running shoes only to find a very foreign face waiting for her turn in the baño. I slid past her in the hallway and muttered the best I could think of in my groggy state, "Buenos dias, hermana," to which she quickly corrected, "Buen dia." Confused, I took a seat on one of the only pieces of furniture in our living room. What did she just say? Doesn't she know how to say good morning? Did I say it wrong?

Within minutes we had our apartment keys in hand and were descending down five flights of curvy stairs. When she opened our building door, I remember feeling chilled to the bone as the cold, damp air enveloped me within seconds. We began our jog. Being a true Argentine, she wasn't much of a runner but wanted to support my desire to stay fit so she tried to keep up with my rickety pace. When we reached the small--and I mean really small--park in the middle of a triangular intersection, she took her seat at the nearest bench where I quickly picked up my pace and began to run what seemed like a hundred laps around that tiny plaza. After 20 minutes, she stood, and I knew it was time to return to the apartment. On our quick walk back, we were met by dozens of smiling faces rinsing off the sidewalk, turning on their bakery lights and washing the store windows. Each one greeted us with what is all too familiar to me now: "Buen dia hermanas." And so I learned the correct Argentine way to say "good morning"  and happily began my bumpy eighteen months in a distant land.

Six years ago I went on a service mission for my church. I fell in love with crowded streets, cranky cab drivers, expensive water bottles and smelly subte (subway) cars. I miss it all terribly, especially since I looked out my icy window this morning only to be greeted by empty streets. Not a soul to wave to. No one to whisper good morning to. Most mornings I wake up early enough to wave to our sweet neighbor girl who has taken fondly to my girls, but not today. I just missed her. Today I wish we lived in a big city so I could pack my girls up in the double stroller and walk with them among the bustling and hurried crowds. I think Mya would love that. She's a people watcher just like her mama. If only...

So if you could choose a big city for me to move my peanuty family to, which would it be? And where would you tell me to go first? 


I hope you have a peaceful week. I am excited to begin this month's blog series. I have some amazing bloggers/writers/friends to introduce you to. P.S. I am still accepting answers. However, until then...here's my Monday chatter:

This woman's audacity motivates me: Jacqueline G. Wexler dies at 85

An article on writing I really enjoyed reading this week: How to become a writer

I really like and want this skirt--I'd wear it with comfy, colorful flats: Papersack Skirt

The sandals that have me dreaming of spring: Jalen by Jessica Simpson

You can bet Mya and I will be making this Valentine crown this week: Heart crown

I'm making these delicate little cupcakes for a baby shower this week: Red Velvet Cupcakes

I am in love with this song I found from fellow blogger C. Jane Enjoy It: Jack and White-Night after night

I decided this week that I need to start watching this show from the beginning: 30 Rock