the fourth

in

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Hi there!  (Waving madly.)  Happy Independence Day everybody!  I took a little break there, didn't I?  Today I'm celebrating my liberation from the trials that are known as...SUMMER CAMP.  There, I've said it.  I've been a camp counselor this week.  If you know me at all, you'll know how much of a reach that particular task has been for me. Little kids and I...let's just say that we're not such a good match.  I kind of still can't believe I'm doing it, but Callum's teacher is the director of the camp and she promised me all sorts of things like IPODS and FLAT SCREEN TVS.  No really, she's done so much not just for my son, but for me as well that I'd do just about anything for her.  Including hang out with a bunch of four year olds.  Such a sight is so improbable that we even had one of our preschool teachers stop in the classroom where I was working and beam at me disbelievingly.  And it went pretty well (It's just so tiring to spend so much time doing something that feels so awkward, and well, tiring.) right up until yesterday afternoon when some little punk called me a "jerk," and I thought, "That's it, time for the weekend."

We never tend to make big plans for the Fourth, no flag themed cupcakes or bottle rockets.  We'll probably just head over to the beach tonight for some fireworks.  I may have said it before, but my friend Marianne introduced us to this tradition, and it's absolutely my favorite way to spend this holiday.  We may hook up with some friends, and maybe not.  I'm trying really hard to release some things and part of that is not to be so militant in my need to have things planned...every minute.  As much as standing in a room of hollering four year olds, that is an awkward and not so comfortable thing for me.  Can I celebrate independence from the restless wanderings of my own brain?  Not sure yet. 

But I'm glad it's a Friday and that we have the weekend stretching before us.  I hope it's a mix of time with family and time with friends (I have several people in my life who I haven't really seen and just hung out with in entirely too long.).  We'll work in the yard and watch some tennis and play some tennis knit some and maybe sew some and maybe, maybe finally start painting the dining r room.  Probably, at some point we'll eat some food.

Oh, and I want a flag.  Why do I always decide stuff like that on July 3rd?  We're not real flag wavers in my family, although I agree with Neel that the American flag is one of the prettiest around, and I'd never dreamed I'd ever want to hang one of my own.  But I do like the idea of hanging our flag on our most significantly patriotic of holidays.  Do you think I could get one of these delivered today?

Have a great weekend everybody.

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sarah

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IMG_7646 We would sit, around her kitchen table, our coke glasses filled with ice and sweating in paper napkins and talk for hours.  Sometimes singing, sometimes quoting movies, ruthlessly teasing her mother, even mocking great historical figures (Oh, you Venerable Bede, you great big Venerable Bede...why the hell did we even study him, anyway?).  Always laughing.  Always laughing.

Slumber parties in my bedroom, or her family room, watching St. Elmo's Fire and About Last Night (Was Rob Lowe really naked in that one scene?  Did we ever decide?) and giggling under the pillows.  Always laughing.

We made your dad bring you to my house one snowy winter evening (No school tomorrow!), and that night we walked for hours in the chill twilight.  The Ingalls Girls from Hell.  "Smell your way to that damn cabin, Mary."  Laughing until we fell into the snow drifts.  Always laughing.

Driving (once we could) to the mountains in the summer.  New York Seltzers and Funyuns (god knows, I still love them!), singing to George Michael's Faith at the top of our lungs, waving at construction workers and, of course, laughing.

We quoted songs and movies endlessly, Into the Woods and thirtysomething.  How do you know what you want till you get what you want and you see if you like it?  We made up stories, walking in my neighborhood or yours, or a night away in Gatlinburg (my first Girls' Weekend!) about our futures.  The men we'd meet and marry.  The ones who'd love us to distraction.  We'd pick a spot on the map, based on its name (and proximity to the ocean!) and plan to live there "happily ever after."  Once, in college where "women" became "womyn," I was chastised by a roommate for such sexist day dreams.  The dads on the beach with the kids while you and I chatted in the kitchen, making ham sandwiches.  I could laugh now I suppose, at such simple dreams, but they haven't changed, really.  You and me, laughing and our families intertwined.  Bring who you want, my dear, no dads need apply.  

I'll make a shameless appeal, right here in front of all four of my readers, to bring you and your daughter to me.  Come to the beach and the little gray house.  Let's go shopping and walk beside the ocean and drive-in to Sonic for lunch.  Time, distance and contact can't erase it for me.  How I feel for you.  My oldest friend, dearest too.  Right there beside my heartbeat you are nestled in.  Right there, next to the echoes of laughter.  All you.  I hope you've had a wonderful day, birthday girl.  I've been thinking of you.

p.s.  I found a picture, but Neel wouldn't let me post it.  It was in a box filled with so much old stuff.  My college acceptance letter, pictures of my mom and dad and an old boyfriend.  It was taken that time we went to Isle of Palms (our only road trip, can you believe it?).  When was that?  Summer after our freshman year in college?  You're wearing a sailor cap (huh?) and clearly singing a song.  It's a great picture actually, but, hey, that's okay.  I've given the lack of posted photos as a present before.  But you know what else I found?  Our old Wills and Prophecies from our senior year of high school.   E-gads.  Seriously.  And do you know what I willed you?  "Belief in your possibilities."  Go figure.  Still true.  Happy birthday, my dear.  I love you.

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Callum's new word is "lame," which this salad is not.

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Wow, doesn't that look good?  Sometimes I manage to retain my knowledge, and I started most of this Nicoise Salad before Callum and I headed to the beach for a few hours yesterday.  Neel grilled(!) the tuna the night before and yesterday morning I blanched the green beans and boiled the eggs and potatoes.  The basics of the recipe are from Ina, of course.  Despite owning a wealth of cookbooks with the word "summer" in the title, she still tends to be my go-to during the warm weather months.  Although I'd love a copy of this.  And my purchase of this one is long overdue too. The dressing for the potatoes is what really gives this salad its flavor.  After you boil them, you steam them in the colander for about ten minutes by wrapping a towel over top and then soak them in a few tablespoons of white wine and chicken stock.  After that it's honey dijon mustard, vinegar and olive oil.  Couldn't be easier.

And despite the fact that it's been leaking all over my counter lately, I love my egg cooker.  Love, love LOVE it.  I'm telling you, perfectly cooked eggs EVERY TIME.  Every time.  Not kidding.  I first had eggs cooked in one of these at my friend Lisa's beach house and promptly went out and bought one.  (The latest fun gadget I was introduced to at the beach house was this darling thing.  Yeah, there's no way I can justify that, but there you are.  I still want it.  Perfectly formed, cocktail sized ice cubes, you guessed it, EVERY TIME.)  We don't eat a ton of eggs, but out on the counter it sits, ready to go at a moment's notice.  Those eggs in that salad were so good...

IMG_9093 Ummmm, doesn't that look tasty?  Sometimes I surprise myself, even.

Callum's still sleeping and Neel's getting ready to go golfing, of all things.  I'm looking forward to a day couched in all of the comforting prose of a Rosamund Pilcher novel: "She had several errands to run, including picking up some new paint for the dining room, and the prospect of this filled her with much satisfaction."

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sunday evening

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I love this angle in my house.  Looking from our kitchen/family room through the dining room and into the living room.  I'm not sure why these angles appeal to me so much.  It's as if my life unfolds to you, room by room out the window through to the front yard.  I photograph them often.  This picture was taken Sunday evening in golden twilight as we await a thunder storm.  These three rooms look really nice right now.  I cleaned the crap out of them this weekend.

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See?

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All of our surfaces were looking a little like this.  I vacuumed rugs and cushions and dusted everything.  This is the dustiest house I have ever lived in.  I no sooner dust every surface in sight then I find a gray film on everything.  Fruuuuuustrating.   There is seriously no getting ahead of it.   The island looks great now, but it's too dark to photograph it for you. 

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I even wanted to mop.  I couldn't find our bucket anywhere.  What cruel twist of irony is that?  To actually want to mop and not have a bucket.  I  finally dumped out one of the bins Callum stores his Legos in only to find that our mop was busted too.  I did it anyway, so desperate was I.

I have a lot I'm thinking about my house right now.  An overwhelming need for order.  Heather Armstrong, over at dooce wrote a great post about coming home from vacation and wanting to reorder her life.  I'm not going as far as the 21-day cleanse, but I always feel that way after coming home from vacation.  Wanting to tend to things better than my normal sorry self can manage to.  So I got a little start this weekend, and it is very settling to see smooth and empty surfaces.

The wind has started to pick up out those big front windows.  Maybe we'll get a storm yet.

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frappe nation

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Did you know that there really is a website called Frappe Nation?  And isn't that a pretty glass?  It was my grandmother's, and I just love, love it.  I have no idea what the pattern is or where she got them, but every time I visited her, I wanted to drink out of them, and I still do.   I'm meant to be cleaning the house today, and I really did make a stab at it, but after lunch Callum plunked down to read a couple of chapters of The Black Stallion Returns and I promptly fell asleep!  I am not by nature a napper, daytime sleep generally eludes me, but I haven't been sleeping well at night, and I guess I'm feeling generally run down.

Callum was so funny.  He must have thought I was sick or something (asking him to cover me with the blanket may have had something to do with it) because he brought me some ice water ("I would have brought you iced tea, but you just had that at lunch, so...(shrugs shoulders.)", and a cool compress for my head.  I slept under that blanket, two dogs and the cool compress for almost an hour.

I woke up feeling a bit more the thing, but still in need of a pick me up.  What better than a frappe'?  I wrote about these last summer, and it sounded again like the most refreshing, awakening thing I could possibly have right this instant.

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Oh, over too soon.  Gone too fast.  Might need another.

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sometimes I'm clever

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IMG_9036 Yesterday was our first real foray to the beach for the summer.  We've been a time or two this spring, but the real, regular beach-going with friends started yesterday. It seemed a near-thing at the start of the day.  There are still big fires raging south of us and depending on how the wind blows (literally), we have a lot of smoke in the area.  Yesterday morning was the worst.  Even inside the house it smelled smoky.  Still, by non the wind had shifted and we were off.

IMG_9039We stake a claim on our little slice of beach, crafting a landing pad out of towels, chairs, flip flops and juice boxes.  A couple of us remarked that there's always a learning curve at the start of the summer.   What toys and snacks we need to pack and take.  Before we left, I spent too much time digging in the shed for my chair and looking for my beach cover up.  Fortunately I remembered to pop a couple of water bottles in the freezer because I didn't even bring a cooler.  I always envy the snacks that everyone else brings. 

IMG_9040 It wasn't long before I was remembering all the things we need to take. Chips (salt and vinegar are hands down the best beach chips) and Twizzlers are necessities.  Callum will need Gatorade, and although I love to have an Izze or two packed, I can make do with water.  I remembered that we have a soft-sided cooler somewhere, and then I remembered that we always need a snack and drink for the car ride home too.  After just another trip or two, we'll have a beach bag by the door and shovels, boogie boards, towels and snacks ready to go at a moments' notice!

IMG_9041 I was so happy just to be there.  No humidity and a gentle breeze, I was content just to sit and let the conversations swirl around me...I'm sure the celebratory Hurricanes that Marianne brought (Thanks, Marianne!) had something to do with that supreme feeling of contentment...soaking up the sun and the smell of the sea and the laughter.

IMG_9042 We ended up with eleven kids in all, and our only girl held her own quite well!  Every so often one of us would lift her head and do a quick count, and at one point someone commented, "Callum never emerges from the water, does he?"  That's summer for you.  For us, at least.

Oh, but sometimes I'm clever!  We made a late trip yesterday (usually we're unpacked, toes in the sand, by ten) because Shoshana's kids had swim lessons, and as we were headed home late in the day, I dreaded thinking about what to make for dinner.  Then I remembered, I already made dinner!  I used the extra time in the morning to make us a whopping big Israeli couscous salad.  Israeli couscous: my new favorite grain.  I pretty much winged it.  Roasted some asparagus in olive oil and garlic (I think I'd steam it next time.), and popped open a bag of frozen roasted corn from Trader Joe's (arduous work, that).  Mixed that with the couscous, some feta and a quick dressing of olive oil and pear-infused balsamic vinegar.

IMG_9046 I topped it with some broiled (because for poor Neel, "Our grill is dead to me." at present) chicken sausage, and it was the perfect dinner after a day with the sand and the sun.  I see more of these (the beach and the salads) in our future.

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tennis, anyone?

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IMG_8993 Even before we got the Wii and Callum became a pro at tennis, Neel had been talking about teaching him to play.  We both have played off and on in our distant past (I calculated on Sunday that it had been 25 years since I'd last played tennis.  YIKES.), but this was a pastime that followed neither of us into adulthood.

Neel was talking about it so much that Callum and I decided to get him a racket for Father's Day.  And really, for this to work, we had to get Callum a racket too.  Happy Father's Day, Callum!  And suddenly, tennis is back in our lives.

IMG_8995 It's been a long time.  When I was really young, younger than Callum is now, we lived in a great old house across the street from the small liberal arts college that my parents had attended and where they met. That college campus was a big, big part of my life when we lived in that house.  All sorts of memories have come flooding back as I write this.  I'm sure I'll start exploring them on this blog at some point.  Anyhoo... tennis.  Right directly across the street from our house was the entrance to the college and the college tennis courts.  Mom and Dad, you'll have to help me out here, but my first memory of being on a tennis court is of riding my trike around as my parents played.  We did this a lot.  Lots of Saturdays, I think.  And I may have whapped the ball a time or two.  The image in my mind is of old, cracked courts and ginormous magnolia trees with lots of dropped leaves.  I think, on one side of the courts, you had to go down a hill to get in.  Am I right?  Those courts aren't there anymore.

We moved, and moved again, and I was a teenager and there were courts nearby again.  Around that time I was also going to camp, and every summer I signed up for tennis as one of my classes.  Again, beat up courts surrounded by trees always dropping their leaves around the edges.  My main memories of tennis at camp are how bloody hot it was and this one camp counselor who made the mistake of calling me, "Watch" one day when he needed to know what time it was.  Of course I developed a HUGE crush on him (I was twelve, people, give me a break.) and we got to be great friends.  But again, I digress.  I didn't really think I learned much at those tennis sessions, but I learned on Sunday that some of it "took."

IMG_9000 So here's the really cool part.  The house that we live in now is several blocks away from a local university campus.  We're not really as connected to this campus as I was to the one I grew up near, but we get down there enough.  Bike rides, usually.  Someday football.  But now, there's tennis.  So this school recently opened a multi-million dollar indoor/outdoor tennis facility, and man, it's a doozy.  We thought that the outdoor courts were free to the public, but that was too much like history repeating itself.  Still, for a mere $10 an hour, you could get a court, indoors or out.  Indoors:  you know, air conditioning.  Not bloody hot.

IMG_9016The goal was to introduce Callum to tennis, and we did that.  But I was surprised at how much fun Neel and I had.  My backhand is still (oddly enough) better than my forehand, and I'm clearly tilting my racket, causing some serious pop-ups.  I never had a serve before, but Sunday, I did. And by "having a serve", I mean "throw the ball up, hitting it with the racket and getting it across the net."  Go figure.  Neel's skill is what he remembered, and he did a great job guiding Callum through his first attempts.  And Callum, as with everything he tries along these lines, picked it up quickly.  He amazes me.

IMG_9008So here we are.  Tennis.  Looking for a chance to go back.  After my arm stops killing me.

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deserving dad

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IMG_1222 Oh, we had a great Father's Day yesterday.  Neel deserves it (Not that my poor dad doesn't.  He spent his Father's Day on a plane, waiting two hours for his luggage and then an hour and a half cab ride with a manic cab driver.  Happy Father's Day, Dad!).  If I had to create the image of a dad for my son, I couldn't have picked a better model than Neel.  It's hard for me to write about what he means to me and our family.  So I won't.  I'll tell you about our day instead.

We played a little tennis and watched the start of The Queen.  We looked for honeysuckle and climbing hydrangeas at a garden center (to no avail) and wandered around a sporting goods store before watching Callum scale the rock climbing wall.  We cooked out and had pie.  We started the day with Meet the Press and ended it watching golf.  "Neel," I said, "we're getting old."  I can't imagine a better man, or a better dad to grow old with.

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still not a food blog

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IMG_8968 But, oh it feels so good to cook again.  To have the day to think about it, to take my time deciding and to slowly move through the kitchen.  It's been too warm to do anything but move slowly.

That's the difference between school-year and summer cooking.  I feel hamstrung in the winter.  I still haven't really figured out how to do it.  It wears me out to make the grocery list.  It wears me out to do the shopping.  Hardest of all is deciding what to do and then doing it, every flipping night.  I just feel too beat when I get home in the evenings to have much enjoyment in the process.  Winters seem to be more about feeding than cooking and eating.  I hate that.  There's some good food to be made in the winter.  Clearly I still have some "feeding my family" things to figure out.

But summer.  Another weight is off me and cooking is fun again.  I've been absolutely craving chicken salad lately.  I'm trying it in all its forms.  Roasted with big chunks of chicken.  Waldorf-y with walnuts and grapes.  Plain old deli-case minced, with tiny bits of celery.  This one I made last night is one of my favorites.  It's a curried chicken salad from a Sara Foster cookbook.  Foster's Market, I think.  I never look at the recipe anymore, so I don't remember where it came from.  The key to me is the curry/honey/mayonnaise dressing.  That and the toasted coconut.  And currants.  If those things are there (well, and the chicken, of course), I throw in whatever else I may have.  Sometimes apples.  Last night it was red pepper.  The toasted coconut is the thing, though.  Adds the perfect texture.


IMG_8971It got up to 102 degrees here yesterday, so we had this with chilled asparagus and a drizzle of balsalmic glaze.  Perfect chilled supper for such a hot night.  I should have made a double batch. 

IMG_8972 And check this out.  See how hazy?  I know, the picture doesn't do it justice, but I had to try to capture it.  Wildfires are burning to the south of us, and the wind shifted (breaking the heat, thank goodness) bringing the smoke our way.  Woodsy smelling smoke blanketed the town.  Gone today, cooler weather on tap, and I'm still not done with chicken salad.

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too darn hot

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IMG_8934It was already 81 degrees when I got up before 6 a.m. this morning.  Yikes!  And looking like our third or fourth day in a row of near or over 100 degree temperatures.  You'll rarely hear this said in my family, but it's pretty much too hot to even go to the beach.

Oh, but it's summer vacation.  Bliss.  I had my last faculty meeting of the school year yesterday, and although I'll be working over the summer, the schedule shifts and softens into easier.  A lot of what I need to do I can do from home, and I'm finally starting to settle into the realization that we're, for the next ten weeks at least, a bit freer.  Like I said, bliss.  A weight I didn't know was there has lifted a bit.  It's the gift of time, really.  I look around at my house, at all the disorder and disarray, and I'm thrilled to have the time to tend to things.  To clean up and clean out and paint the dining room and pay attention to the blog and cook and sew.

Callum and I made all sorts of summer plans over lunch yesterday.  He has some work to do himself to get ready for third grade, and he'll have to go into my office once a week or so with me, but we seem to have mapped out the plans for a pretty nice routine.  It will involve the Wii a good bit, I have a feeling.  When I got home yesterday it was pushing 101 and I told Callum that I would not press him to play outside.  So he worked on his tennis skills while I payed bills, and then we made soup.

IMG_8937 Chilled Avocado Soup, to be precise.  Before we did anything else, Callum read the recipe for me and we determined that we needed to chill it for two to three hours before serving.  So soup before Wii.  Callum did so much of the work for this.  We cooked together some last summer, but it's amazing the difference a year can bring.  I told him to get out a step stool, and I was the only one who needed it! 

IMG_8944 He chopped all the avocados, measured the yogurt and chicken stock, stirred the soup and even helped clean up.  As my friend Ben is always saying, "many hands make light work."  This extra set of hands make the work light and fun, for sure.

IMG_8955 The soup itself was pretty good.  Not a home run.  I added some cumin, and that helped.  It was a bit thick. More smoothie than soup, perhaps.  I have to say, gang, that the consistency reminded me of Jen's avocado salsa at Gringos, so with some adjustments to the seasonings we may be onto something here.  First summer supper.  Good with BLTs too.

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big kid

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IMG_5557 Dear Callum,

Well, today is your last day of second grade.  I can't even believe it.  We've both been busy looking forward to all of the fun things we're going to do this summer (not to mention getting ready for THIRD GRADE!), but I've been looking back some too.  You've had a great year this year.  When we learned who your teacher was going to be, all the way back last spring, we knew it would be good.  Still, I don't think your Papa and I knew how good.
 
The enthusiasm you showed for everything in first grade did not wane this year, by any stretch.  You loved earning money in your classroom economics and getting paid for the jobs you did in your class.  You hoarded and hoarded your money, a trait which will make your paternal grandfather very proud.  Your reading totally took off, and long before the end of the school year you were devouring chapter books the way you devour hot wing dip!  We've all read some great books together.  From Little House to The Phantom Tollbooth, and The Secret Garden.  And you've read some great books, like Stuart Little and The Trumpet of the Swan on your own.  You have developed a true love of reading, and this makes my heart sing.  The love of reading and books is something that will enrich your life beyond measure, and I'm thrilled to know that you see reading as recreation as well as enrichment.  This will only make your adult life more full.

IMG_8334 You got to study some of your favorite things this year, like gemstones and Ancient Greece.  You love sapphires and can name many gemstones.  You learned renaming and regrouping (what we used to call borrowing and carrying), and most importantly you learned not to be afraid of math.  And one day, in your A.M. Journal, you wrote, "I am good at math."  It's one of your teacher's proudest moments, and I know it's one of Papa's and mine too.  You love reading and writing poetry and you really enjoy getting up in front of your class and speaking (or singing) with enthusiasm.

IMG_5696 You love P.E. and have the makings of a great athlete.  You've run laps and earned stripes in karate and a first place medal in your first tournament.  You have a strong competitive spirit, and Papa and I are very proud of how you are working on tempering that drive by being a better loser and a good sport.

IMG_6232 Things were pretty fun outside of school too.  After years of happy costumes, you decided to be a little scarier this Halloween.  You went to Busch Gardens and the circus and camping, all for the first time.  You got two new dogs.  You had your first sleepover too.  You challenged us to games of Uno and learned to play Monopoly.  You still love rockets and space and World War II movies and Top Chef.  You went to see Barack Obama speak and that sparked an interest in American politics.  You seem to tend toward pacifist pursuits, having developed a great interest in Ghandi as well.  You're a creative problem solver.  When I told you that you couldn't sing Rocky Top at school because of the moonshine references, you compromised by changing moonshine to lemonade. 

You have popcorn almost every evening after school.  That and Gatorade (or blood orange soda or Limonata) is your favorite snack.  One of my favorite things this year was our evenings together while you did your homework at the kitchen island and I cooked dinner.  I loved giving you spelling tests at the same time I stirred the soup.  We had some good talks over homework, didn't we?  You've really gained maturity this year, learning that you don't have to be finished first.  That doing your best work was more important.  We fought over homework much, much less this year, you're so much better about taking correction.  You listen more and argue less.  This tells me that as your mind has matured, your spirit has too. 

I'm going to end this post with some words of your own.  A poem you wrote about summer "a few weeks ago."

Summer feels soft
Summer sounds musical
Summer smells like a flower
Summer tastes like honeysuckles
Summer looks blue and yellow

IMG_7555 Callum, Papa and I couldn't be prouder of you this year.  We're proud of your great accomplishments as a student, but more than that, we're proud of the person you're becoming.  Our best bud, a pleasure to be with and to know.  You sparkle with life and nothing could make me prouder than that.

Love,

Mama

P.S.  We hope you enjoy your new Wii.  You've earned it!

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yep, still here

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The last two weeks of school are nothing to mess around with, no lie.  As my Grandma Charlotte would say, "man o' day."  My head is swirling.  It's not helping that typepad is screwing with my compose screen.  I have theme changes I want to make and pictures to post, but they've switched things around and I'm too pooped to mess with it.  Next week, I keep thinking, next week.  Although it certainly isn't helping my blogging that I come home from a yoga class that kicks my butt to eat a malted milk brownie with pistachio ice cream instead of sitting down at the computer.  That doesn't help at all.

So we're winding down to summer vacay, and we're all ready.  I'm ready to trade my dress pants for flip flops and Callum's ready to switch to swim trunks for the next ten weeks.  We don't have any trips planned, and all I want to do is cook and write and tend to my house and my boy and sit on the beach.  I'm working on a school year wrap-up post (For Callum, not me.  I have my own self-evaluation to write for work, but I don't think you guys need to read that!), and after that it's summer.  Summer at school, summer in my house, and summer in the Blue Rain Room...I can't wait.

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megs

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Today is my friend Megan's birthday and part of my present to her is: NO PICTURES.  Happy birthday, dear!  She's out of town today, and has been all week, and frankly, it's hard to imagine spending her birthday without her.  My weeks are definitely quieter and a little less sparkly when she's not around.  We've only known each other for about four years, and only really well for three of them, but she is so interwoven into my life here that it's hard to imagine it without her. 

Megan is a remarkable woman.  She is the most prolific reader I've ever met, an amazing cook and an incredibly gifted artist.  We quickly discovered that we have fiber in common, both of us with looms stashed away in storage.  She didn't teach me to knit but her advice and her persistence turned me into a knitter.  She switched me to continental, took me to my first real yarn store and got me knitting socks.  She has a fierce determination like nobody's business and a competitive spirit that we like to make fun of, although it's a characteristic I truly admire.  She's a gifted athlete who loves to try new things.  She keeps me focused on my running, and it was her love of Hot Yoga (along with my friend Marianne) that got me there in the first place, and now I love it too.  She is truly the most loyal person I've ever met.  She would do anything for me, this I know for sure.  She loves me and my husband, and my son has been absorbed into her family as her "honorary fifth child."  Knowing her has made me a better reader, better athlete, better cook and a better woman.  (And don't think I don't recognize how lucky I am to be surrounded by women who lift me up and make me a better me.  This is an amazing time in my life, largely due to those who are around me.)  Megan and I danced around each other for awhile as we became friends.  But what started tentatively quickly slid into something precious.  We were soon finishing each others sentences and, let's face it, planning our shared suite in hell.  The afterlife will be a lot more fun with her around, I promise.

There are relationships in your life where you just don't have the right words, or enough of them at least.  And although I've tried, I can't do justice to her, the kind of woman she is, or the place she has in my heart.  Happy, happy birthday my dear friend.  I miss you.  Come home soon.

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(12/30): Necklace and a birthday wish

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Today is my friend Marianne's birthday.  I thought that rather than posting a picture of her (and let's face it, we don't generally love the photos taken of us and that's perfectly fair.  What doesn't seem fair is to post one on your birthday without first getting approval.  Although the threat of posting photos can be a handy tool, right Megan?) I'd post one of the beautiful pieces of jewelry she makes.  I am really digging this macro thing, and if it weren't so early I'd have better lighting for taking this picture.  The beads are a dark, dark teal, and the pendant (a Christmas gift from my dad) is gray shot with black...Picasso something, I can't remember.    I love it, (although *cough, cough* none of my current earrings are a perfect fit, if you take my meaning), and I'm always so proud to wear something she's made. 

I have a lot of her stuff (I was actually accused of being a "jewelry hog" just last week), and every time I go to put on a pair of earrings or a necklace, I think of her.  We don't see each other a lot (but hey, summer vacation is just around the corner with the beach beckoning), and wearing her jewelry is a nice way to have hear near me.

She has, as you can imagine, a great eye for fashion and color, and is one of the most glamorous women I know.  And that's glamorous in a good way.  A way that makes me want to be more like her.  She's funny and generous and confident and creative.  When we were first getting to know each other, we found so many similarities (remember Perpetual Motion and Brian Andreas?!) that we started to wonder if we were separated at birth.  She's an appreciative friend, a phenomenal cook, and brews up the best Bloody Marys.  What more could you ask for in a friend?

Have an amazing day today my dear.  It sounds like it's going to be a lot like the wonderful birthday you helped to give me, and I can't think of anything better for you.  I hope that you enjoy it to the hilt, and I have no doubt that you will!

xoxo, me

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