We left Verbier, the little Swiss ski town tucked into the mountains a few days ago now, for a quick stint in Lausanne to visit Nathan, Tanya & sweet V before heading back stateside.
All in, it was an incredible trip. A few days spent truly away - no phones, little internet, no work, no TV - that seriously never happens. It was so refreshing, I had no idea how much we needed that break. Instead we spent a lot of time at altitude catching up with dear friends who live farther away than we’d like to believe, reading a bit, meeting new people, skiing some insane lines (major credit to David on that one), drinking more than our fair share of hot chocolate (ok, I’ll own that) and getting away with eating little more than melted cheese for dinner (the only answer is obviously yes to raclette & fondue).  
But after literally 24 hours of traveling (honestly, how could that be possible? and yet, unfortunately somehow, it was…), we made it home wearily last night. Minus one ski bag that arrived at our door at 4:30am (good morning). It feels so good to be home, even if we’ve only got another 24 hours before we each head back to the airport for work in New York. We failed to lug our real camera this time across the pond (believe me, the winter gear was enough to manage), so my iphone photos will have to do. Regardless of the method, the setting there could make almost any shot spectacular. Unsurprisingly, there’s something pretty breathtaking about the Swiss Alps… 

We left Verbier, the little Swiss ski town tucked into the mountains a few days ago now, for a quick stint in Lausanne to visit Nathan, Tanya & sweet V before heading back stateside.

All in, it was an incredible trip. A few days spent truly away - no phones, little internet, no work, no TV - that seriously never happens. It was so refreshing, I had no idea how much we needed that break. Instead we spent a lot of time at altitude catching up with dear friends who live farther away than we’d like to believe, reading a bit, meeting new people, skiing some insane lines (major credit to David on that one), drinking more than our fair share of hot chocolate (ok, I’ll own that) and getting away with eating little more than melted cheese for dinner (the only answer is obviously yes to raclette & fondue).  

But after literally 24 hours of traveling (honestly, how could that be possible? and yet, unfortunately somehow, it was…), we made it home wearily last night. Minus one ski bag that arrived at our door at 4:30am (good morning). It feels so good to be home, even if we’ve only got another 24 hours before we each head back to the airport for work in New York. We failed to lug our real camera this time across the pond (believe me, the winter gear was enough to manage), so my iphone photos will have to do. Regardless of the method, the setting there could make almost any shot spectacular. Unsurprisingly, there’s something pretty breathtaking about the Swiss Alps… 

4 hours of sleep, 3 planes, 2 trains, 1 bus ride and one (thank god) car ride uphill and we finally made it to Switzerland. A bit battered and bruised, but I have to tell you, the first bus stop here was honestly called “fromagerie” so I considered it a good sign that even if we weren’t quite at our destination yet, we were headed for good things. After what felt like (and may have honestly been) 24 hours of hauling luggage and skis across continents and platforms, we arrived in Verbier in the quiet cool just as night was falling on this little mountain town. It’s a larger ski town than I’m used to, lively and bright and nestled at elevation instead of the valleys of Colorado and Tahoe that I’m used to. It’s replete with classic Swiss architecture, rapid fire French, a fresh coat of snowfall, encircled by mountains and basically, it couldn’t be more charming. 

Of course after all that I somehow threw out my back unpacking within 10 min of opening the front door, which is a definite first. I suppose that was my body saying, that’s enough, go to bed and don’t you dare move. Not even a little bit.

I woke up in the morning to this view, stunned by the Alps and feeling slightly more mobile, at least enough to go exploring. You’d think Swiss calories aren’t real calories in my head because so far all I’ve eaten are gruyere and egg crepes, and croissants and chocolat chaud and fondue. All of the cheese. All of the cheese in Switzerland. I’m not leaving any behind. Sorry I’m not sorry. 

By happy coincidence one of our ski house friends from Tahoe is here this same week, so we recreated California après ski together at Farinet and Rouge yesterday, which I have to admit was a notch or two better than our usual routine of beer and pizza at the Chammois at Squaw. 

Then, later last night we had dinner with a crew of our hosts’ local friends at a restaurant that’s ski in ski out during the day and accessible by snowcat (or a good long walk) by night. After dinner, drinks, fondue and cake the table of 12 dispersed, running for the toboggans we’d brought up with us en masse. In a giant flurry, we went sledding down the vacant mountain pass all the way down to our cars with nothing much more than the scant moonlight and the village lights below to keep us from running off the wrong side of the cliff. What a way to end the night! So far I have to say, these guys have a good idea of the good life. 

And after working all through the holidays. It’s nice to finally be on vacation and disconnected, a million miles away. Closing out 2013 en Suisse with champagne and snow… I’ll take it. 

Happy New Year everyone!

4 hours of sleep, 3 planes, 2 trains, 1 bus ride and one (thank god) car ride uphill and we finally made it to Switzerland. A bit battered and bruised, but I have to tell you, the first bus stop here was honestly called “fromagerie” so I considered it a good sign that even if we weren’t quite at our destination yet, we were headed for good things. After what felt like (and may have honestly been) 24 hours of hauling luggage and skis across continents and platforms, we arrived in Verbier in the quiet cool just as night was falling on this little mountain town. It’s a larger ski town than I’m used to, lively and bright and nestled at elevation instead of the valleys of Colorado and Tahoe that I’m used to. It’s replete with classic Swiss architecture, rapid fire French, a fresh coat of snowfall, encircled by mountains and basically, it couldn’t be more charming.

Of course after all that I somehow threw out my back unpacking within 10 min of opening the front door, which is a definite first. I suppose that was my body saying, that’s enough, go to bed and don’t you dare move. Not even a little bit.

I woke up in the morning to this view, stunned by the Alps and feeling slightly more mobile, at least enough to go exploring. You’d think Swiss calories aren’t real calories in my head because so far all I’ve eaten are gruyere and egg crepes, and croissants and chocolat chaud and fondue. All of the cheese. All of the cheese in Switzerland. I’m not leaving any behind. Sorry I’m not sorry.

By happy coincidence one of our ski house friends from Tahoe is here this same week, so we recreated California après ski together at Farinet and Rouge yesterday, which I have to admit was a notch or two better than our usual routine of beer and pizza at the Chammois at Squaw.

Then, later last night we had dinner with a crew of our hosts’ local friends at a restaurant that’s ski in ski out during the day and accessible by snowcat (or a good long walk) by night. After dinner, drinks, fondue and cake the table of 12 dispersed, running for the toboggans we’d brought up with us en masse. In a giant flurry, we went sledding down the vacant mountain pass all the way down to our cars with nothing much more than the scant moonlight and the village lights below to keep us from running off the wrong side of the cliff. What a way to end the night! So far I have to say, these guys have a good idea of the good life.

And after working all through the holidays. It’s nice to finally be on vacation and disconnected, a million miles away. Closing out 2013 en Suisse with champagne and snow… I’ll take it.

Happy New Year everyone!

It was a challenge and a half getting out of town last night, (godspeed fellow Christmas travelers!) but a little past midnight we made it to Kansas and were rewarded with the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever caught mid-air along the way… Let the holiday travel extravaganza of 2013 begin! #nofilter #happyholidays

It was a challenge and a half getting out of town last night, (godspeed fellow Christmas travelers!) but a little past midnight we made it to Kansas and were rewarded with the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever caught mid-air along the way… Let the holiday travel extravaganza of 2013 begin! #nofilter #happyholidays

emilyinternet

emilyinternet:

Okay let me explain you a thing about little inner-city apartments, about little slices of domesticity hewn out of old brick and DIY plaster, filled with rag-tag people that you have assembled as a family unit, with indie music on low and laughter and dwindling bottles of wine. Where the cat is always asleep atop your computer and your best dress and stockings are tossed on the couch and your faulty window opens to a planted box full of herbs and the steamy buzz of the city below. Where take out from your favorite deli awaits you in the fridge and work is only a bus-ride away and the city comes right up the meet you at night, swilling in with the night wind and tugging at your hair and sweater until you venture out into it. There’s something truly magical about a tiny well-kept apartment filled with treasured people, something more exquisite than anything in the world, I think.

everything in between

I have found myself back on planes recently. This new (bigger, better, bi-coastal) job has meant returning to my old ways after nearly a year-long hiatus from the familiar slog from security lines to gate check to pure exhaustion. I have to admit, twisted as it may be, it feels good to be back at the old pace again, though maybe that’s just the comfort of returning to what I know. I am busy, after months of hanging on in uncertainty, and it feels good.

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I’ve been boarding planes for other reasons lately too – bound for friend’s weddings and home for the holidays. We spent over a week in Chicago this year for Thanksgiving. Two weekends bookending family dinners, sister dates, pizza & Notre Dame nights with the H crew, Bears games, Michigan Avenue city light strolling, brunches with friends and one absolutely epic night at the Aviary with these crazy cats.

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It was good for my soul to be home. To be with my family. To wake up in my old house and pour coffee in a Christmas mug and start the day. It didn’t hurt that my mother’s pumpkin pie was on the agenda that week as well. It was enjoyed for breakfast at least once, maybe twice. No shame.

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As a gift to my parents, my sisters and I spent an entire day cooped up in the basement sorting through our childhood. The mess got bigger (scarily bigger) before the piles got cleaner and the relics to be kept were contained neatly in bins. But that was not before we’d died laughing (cried laughing even) at old art projects and school book reports, at ancient diary entries and pre-school letters to mom, at Natalie’s boxes of gymnastics medals, Andrea’s boxes of horseback riding ribbons and my utter lack thereof (do participation trophies count? No? oh, ok… ;).  We emerged at the end of the day for pizza and a fire, the daylight having passed, feeling accomplished. It was a long time coming and finally put to rest. I think what they call that is relief

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It had been nearly 6 months since I’d been back and Chicago always makes me feel like no other city does. In a word: present. Despite the cold. It was a funny thing to be in such close proximity again to my origins, in people and in print, for more than a weekend at a time. Having recently taken a number of personality and aptitude tests for work (I love that stuff to death) it was amusing to see the evidence of my polar opposite attributes carried out in the flesh: highly structured / highly creative; highly strategic / highly tactical; highly outgoing / highly restrained. Well, those are my parents in a nutshell, each at an end of the spectrum, somehow mixed up in me. My sisters and I are often amused at how we’re at war within ourselves… whether to seize the day (and fly to Puerto Rico on a whim): my mom, or be absolutely practical: my dad. The push-pull is a conundrum we live in but I suppose it makes for a balanced approach.

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It snowed when we were in Chicago and everything felt new again; first snows have a way of doing that I suppose. I watched it come down from Andrea’s bedroom window in her high rise through the early morning and into the day and remembered what it was like to watch snow falling on the cathedral across the street when we lived here (what now feels like years and years ago). I do love this time of year.

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I love the Christmas tree in our living room, and the ones in the neighborhood peering out from open windows with their own festive lights.  I wait all day for the light to go down so the lights can come on. Walking around has become a holiday hunting sport in the evenings: the lights strung up on balconies, the decorations on front doors, the Christmas cards stuffed in the mailbox when I get home. The other night we saw a parade of sailboats with masts lit up like Christmas trees crossing the bay. These are, hands down, my favorite weeks of the year. It hardly feels like anything should come after it at all, what a sorry month January always seems to be.

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Just as we’ve gotten settled back into our rhythm on the West coast, we’ve got more planes ahead of us now. The theme lately is pack light and buckle up. On Friday night we leave for Wichita to spend a merry Christmas with David’s family in the heartland. Then a quick pass through in Chicago to see my grandparents in particular who are up from Florida, if only for a day. Then, believe it or not, we’re off to Switzerland to visit Nathan, Tanya & little V (!), try out skiing in the Alps, see a few more friends from London in Verbier for a wild NYE and then return to real life by the first week of January and of course the craziness at work picks up right about then. It’s going to be a race to the finish for 2013. But festive and full of people we love, which is pretty much the best holiday plan I can imagine. I hope you all are having a wonderful holiday season too, wherever you are, whomever you’re with. I know these weeks are not always uncomplicated, nor all merry and bright, but from our house to yours here’s wishing you all kinds of love. xoxo

This is what the mountain pass looks like at 6am when 2 feet of new snow falls overnight in Tahoe, and you set your alarm for 3am. Think we’re a little over eager for ski season this year? You’d be right. But mission ‘beat the traffic / fresh tracks’ was a success.

This is what the mountain pass looks like at 6am when 2 feet of new snow falls overnight in Tahoe, and you set your alarm for 3am. Think we’re a little over eager for ski season this year? You’d be right. But mission ‘beat the traffic / fresh tracks’ was a success.