Married.

(Guest book crayons!)

So here’s the real wedding post. The one where I skip all the details that took up so much of my thoughts before and tell you the important stuff.  The stuff that still makes me thrilled to this day when I stop a second in the midst of job searches and all the rest and think about that day, and every day since.

(Decor + delicious Turley from my Dad’s collection)

See, I don’t think our mostly self-catered, self-organized, casual setup would work for everyone.  About 10 minutes before our ceremony started, I was wondering whether it was even going to work for us.  I had planned to go back to the pavilion in my wedding dress and help set stuff up, because that’s what I do. I’m a control freak, and hate asking for help, so of course I was going to set the tables, right?  Well, people had other ideas. I was to have an “entrance”, which meant family and friends would be doing the setup.  And you know what? I showed up and everything was gorgeous, everyone was happy, and our families and friends had pulled together and made everything possible.

(Foliage!)

Was it exactly as I envisioned when I was agonizing over program details and centerpieces? No. Did I care? Not one bit.  Because that was the moment I felt like we were really a family, people were rooting for us, and we were incredibly lucky to have such awesome people in our lives. And bloody hell, if that’s not what weddings are all about, then who wants one?

(From the ceremony – my lovely MOH is behind me)

Anyway, this blog post is sort of a one-sided perspective on the whole thing (which honestly is not that uncommon — I think most wedding blogs are written by women, and most discussions of weddings are the same… A shame, really, though after physics, it’s sort of refreshing to actually be in the majority for once.)  But I think James and I felt the same way about this.  Both our families seemed to have a blast, which was the best part — the part we talked about for weeks.  We certainly had fun. And I haven’t even mentioned the thoughtful, funny speeches people put together, the song people wrote for us and sang, and all the words of love and support we got from everyone — some of which were literally sent from the other side of the globe.

For those of you who read this blog who attended the wedding, either in person or in spirit, thank you for being incredible.  We couldn’t have done it without you.

(All photos were taken by our photographer, Jerry of JW Photography. If you want contact details / info on an affordable photographer in Southern CT, just send me an e-mail or leave a comment and I’ll give you contact details.)

Union of sorts

We got married in front of a crowd of less than 40 people in a gorgeous state park in CT.  We had no rehearsal, our friend served as officiant, and our only “vendor” was our photographer, who worked in exchange for experience.  In this post, I’ll focus on the details; I’ll save general comments for my next post, as I think they deserve their own space.

My dad was in charge of getting the fire going for s’mores, warmth, and light (all essential, even if the day ended up being gorgeous).  We have some awesome pictures of him prepping the fire before the ceremony.

I don’t have pictures to show of the ceremony itself, because I don’t feel comfortable posting identifiable pictures of people without their explicit permission.  You’ll just have to believe me when I say it was beautiful.  We got everyone to gather around in a spot overlooking the nearby river and woods, and they sort of formed an aisle.  I asked my dad to walk me down the aisle as it formed, and since we skipped the music, P (our officiant /bridesmaid / kickass friend extraordinaire) started humming the bridal march, which made me laugh.  A was my maid of honor, and James had his brother serve as best man. They both read a selection from Madeline L’Engle’s An Irrational Season (a popular choice, I suppose), and my dad read a poem called the Wedding Night, by Bob Hicok, which is beautiful if you’re looking for a reading for your own wedding.  We read our vows, which we wrote from scratch, and I surprised myself with a few tears.  Then, as usual, there were the rings and a kiss.

We sent everyone off to devour a cheese and bread plate James put together that featured locally made cheeses and a few we had first tasted on our travels while we had a few pictures taken.  My grandmother brought us some wild Alaskan smoked salmon all the way from the Pike Place market in Seattle, and we ate this on crackers and Sullivan Street bread James and his family had picked up during their trip from New York.

For the wedding lunch, we had a local Italian market make grilled vegetables and roast chicken, and made the rest of the food ourselves or had people bring potluck contributions.  I made three salads (with lots of help from family and P): a green salad with oven-roasted tomatoes and tzatziki sauce, a fall pasta salad with squash, chestnuts, and a maple dijon vineagrette, and a lemon-mint potato salad with capers.  Everything was served at room temperature, which was the key to self catering. Rachael made a roasted vegetable and bulgur salad (maybe something like this one?) which everyone raved about. My dad brought a really nice selection of red wines, a friend had sent us a box of Cava which we toasted with, and we served sparkling cider, beer, and lemonade in addition.  We followed the lunch with wedding pie, a ginger cake, blueberry boy bait, an apple tart, and tiramisu, much of which our guests contributed.  I swear, I have never eaten so much delicious food in one day!

After that, we played bocce and frisbee, and there were speeches and toasts and s’mores with homemade marshmallows.  P even surprised us with a song she and my dad wrote for us and passed out lyrics to, so everyone could sing! And to top it all off, there was even a wedding hike down to the river, after most of the friends had left and it was just family and out of town guests left to finish the wine and enjoy the last few hours of the day. Glad I skipped the heels in favor of my tevas.

Decorations were pretty simple. We chose dried eucalyptus and lavender flowers, some cloth squares, and crayons and paper people could have fun with and use as contributions to our guest book.

Basically, we tried to make things as easy as possible.  No last minute flower arrangements, no vendors, nothing that might get crushed easily on the way to the park.  And no uberfancy outfits.  Here’s mine (along with our wedding ride — a zipcar, which we used to transport all the decorations to the site):

Not the best photo ever, but the good ones had other people in it, so this’ll do.  I wore an $80 tea-length sundress in ivory from Unique Vintage, which I bought solely because I already had a dress that shape and knew it would fit (I HATE trying on dresses).  With a cropped sweater from Nordstrom, a homemade silver cotton/silk sash, and a homemade silk flower fascinator, I actually felt pretty and comfortable, and really didn’t really care whether or not I got my dress dirty.  It’s not like it had to be dry cleaned or anything.  James wore his good pants (he only has one pair — he’s a shorts man, usually) and a short sleeve black shirt, which I get to see him in whenever something fancy comes up that requires him to dress up.  And most of our guests wore nice casual clothes, so they could join in on the fun.  Parties are better with a little dirt, right?

So, you’ve heard all the details.  I think I want to save my general thoughts about the wedding for the next post — the best parts, really.  I think that deserves its own space.

Teaser

This is just a sneak preview.  More on our commitment ceremony after I return from yet another conference (in the land of absurdly expensive internet connections).  Hopefully I’ll have some of the professional photos by then, though P took some fantastic ones (like this one)!

Sustainable food contest

I don’t usually respond to the blog world’s equivalent of press releases, but I’m making an exception for this case because I think some of you might be interested.  Brighter Planet, a company dedicated to helping people reduce their carbon footprint, is holding a Sustainable Cooking contest.  The idea is to get people to come up with ways of making cooking more environmentally friendly without sacrificing on taste and post whatever tips they come up with on the site.

I asked Matt Kring, Science Analyst for Brighter Planet, about what inspired the contest.  Since I have a wedding to finish preparing for (in a week — eek!) I’ll just go ahead and tell you what he had to say:

The inspiration for the contest came from a desire to expand the conversation surrounding the impact of food on climate change.  For the average American, their food footprint is actually on par with their transportation footprint, and yet  it receives comparatively little attention.  But not only is there a lot that each of us can to do reduce the impact of our diets, we can do so in a ways that’s a benefit rather than a detriment in terms of quality, flavor, health, and the joy of cooking — we just need inspiration and examples.  And as the incredible energy in the online food community demonstrates, the real power to inspire people doesn’t lie in a stagnant publication, it lies in a living, breathing conversation in which real people share their own stories and experiences.  That’s the aim of this contest — to encourage folks to share their sustainable cooking experiences, and inspire others to conserve in the process.

I’ve been assured that they will continue contributing to this site even after the contest is finished, so even if you don’t feel like entering, you should check back in every so often, because the good tips will keep on coming.

The contest will be judged by the likes of Alice Waters and Gary Hirshberg, among others, and the winner gets a Kindle and a $100 gift certificate to load it up with cookbooks.

So it is

I’m writing from a ground floor room in Berkeley with fishbowl windows and a tv the size of my living room, after yet another meeting where I am left confused about what to do.  This one was a small, collaborative meeting, and I was there as a notetaker, essentially — a fledgling scientist with a somewhat cloudy vision of the future of my field from the little I’ve managed to read on the subject in my spare time.

But as is typical for these meetings, I meet people, for a first time, second time, maybe third time… Names refreshed, the awkward dance begins.  What are you doing next, they ask, and I still have no certain answer.  The story comes out different every time, and all of it is true, but I’m sure I come across as a flake.  I wish I could just say I want to be a scientist, but haven’t figured out what kind yet.  Unfortunately, that doesn’t fly with the funding agencies these days.  I need to be focused (and obviously applicable) to be fundable, which is a shame. Science has become a profitable enterprise, with measurable outcomes and a lot of bs about what we’re going to do next.  Let me tell you something: it’s not science if you know what you’re going to do next.  You don’t know what you’ll find along the way.  Like any good recipe, scientific discoveries often start with a bundle of leftovers and a misstep or two. I think we’ve forgotten that, in our constant query, “But what will it do for us?”

I certainly don’t know what I want to do next. I apply for postdocs because I have some lingering interest in this field, and because I do believe on some level that what I do might matter someday, in ways I can’t predict. But beyond the tiny thrill that comes from placing a new level, seeing something new, I am crippled by the sense that this (in a very specific sense) isn’t what I’m meant to do.  What enthralls me is standing in Moe’s this afternoon, picking through books on fluid mechanics and biology, radiation and evolution. I love the complicated stuff, in other words — the interconnections between all these fields, ideas, systems. Nuclear physics isn’t like that.  We consider an isolated system, forget the electrons, forget the outside world.  Yes, the field is relevant — we are, after all, ultimately a product of nuclear reactions in stars — but I guess I’m missing the wonder in my particular corner of science.

Of course, I may have just deluded myself into thinking something else is necessarily better than what I’m already doing here.  I wouldn’t be the first to make that mistake, nor will I be the last.  I just wish I could give something else a try without sacrificing what I already have here.  Because it is a good life, in many respects, the people are fascinating, I like collaborations, and the opportunity to travel the world and meet new people is almost too persistent.  The hours are long, but that’s true of most jobs these days.

And so, I’m left yet again with a dilemma I have no business complaining about.  Which is probably why I’m posting on my (food) blog, which has morphed into a space for random (and sporadic) thoughts.  As a reward to the two people that actually read this thing in search of food, I will say Pie in the Sky near Center and Shadduck in Berkeley has a pretty nice thin-crust slice, the Downtown Berkeley Inn really isn’t bad for the price, and the view from the LBL cafeteria is enough to make me consider selling my soul to the government.  The food isn’t bad either.