beat
Too. pooped. to. post. Will. write. soon. xoxo.
stay-cation, then vacation
Well, Ama was here (we ate out some) and now we're off to Washington DC for a few days. Whenever Neel and his brother would stay in a hotel, the thing they looked forward to the most was, "Eat sweets and watch TV!" Back in a bit, my friends. Eat sweets and watch TV!
Father's Day, 2009
He's a pretty great dad, you know. And I, having had a pretty great dad myself, have exceptionally high standards.
So we put him to work! Actually, this kind of work Neel likes. Our friends Tracy and Mark live in this amazing house on a river and they offered for us to come and canoe for Father's Day. I jumped, because canoeing is right up Neel's alley. He's been dying to get on the water with Callum. It's criminal that we haven't taken advantage of all the water that surrounds us, but today we tried to change that.
And off they went!
We had an appreciative audience, both in the water...
and out.
Of course, right as they got out of sight the wind kicked up like nobody's business. Callum was a great bowman, but he provided no ballast. Neel laughed when he saw this picture, "No wonder we were getting blown all over the place. Half the bow is out of the water!" Of course that was after they made it back home. It was windy enough that he on the water, and I on the dock were both a bit worried about how they were going to make it back at all.
So much for my my ride. We pulled the plug on the canoeing after that. For now at least. Perhaps the best part is knowing we can come to paddle another day. Happy Father's Day, dearest of men, best of dads. Callum and I both are lucky to have you.
it's still nice here
Oh God, am I ever digging June this year. The hydrangeas are finally coming in, but I think I need to add some vinegar to the soil. I like them blue more than lavender. My maternal grandmother would shake her head at me.
We're slowly settling into a summer rhythm here. Getting our bearings. We had to have a family meeting last night about it. Callum leaves at nine and has trouble checking in until all his friends go home for dinner. Part of me couldn't be more thrilled about the kind of summer he's having. Twilight games of manhunt, ping pong tournaments, running running all day long. I'll catch glimpses of packs of boys roaming from yard to yard, yesterday it was eight! But he's not as untethered as he thinks. He still needs to put his clothes in the hamper, and his laundry away, and make his bed before he leaves the house. And he can't eat lunch at his friend's house everyday. His little-big-man-ness has never been more apparent.
Like his mother, Callum's a fragile sleeper. He still, at almost ten, wakes at least once a night.
"What if I wake up at five?" He asks.
"Go downstairs and make a bowl of cereal."
"Can I play the Wii?"
"As long as you're quiet."
"What if it's four?"
By now I'm ready for this conversation to be done. "As long as you're quiet."
Last night Neel heard some noise deep in the dark, and he looked out into our unusually well-lit back yard to see Lucy-the-Beagle running the perimiter of the fence line. He knew right away that something was up. (Bear in mind that fragile sleeper that I am, I didn't hear a thing.) He came downstairs to find Callum on the sofa, a bowl of cereal in front of him, a can of seltzer in one hand and the Wii remote in the other. Violet and Thea were blissfully snuggled up with him. It was 4:10 a.m. Callum's first question was, "Was I quiet?"
He's still sleeping now. We were both really proud of him, Neel and I. He let the dogs out on his own and tended to everything quite responsibly. We tucked him in with us and chatted and snuggled for awhile. And this is why summer is so wonderful. He can sleep in, and we can figure it out, how to help him sleep better. I work mostly from home in the summer and everyone is blissed out and happy about this, right down to the dogs.
This is how Lucy and Neel greet each other every evening.
The evenings are the best. I love my work, but it's so nice to not
rush in the door and immediately start thinking about dinner. We take
time and settle in. Dinner simmers instead of boils. As if by one, many of the grillers on the block switched to charcoal. Isn't it funny how things like that work out? It slows things down, that's true, but you know, I don't mind.
We grilled teriyaki-and-ginger chicken sausage and pineapple, and I sauteed some squash and zucchini from the farmer's market for some pasta. See that drip of cream on my bowl? Don't you just want to swipe that up with your finger? It was gone as soon as I put the camera down!
After dinner we crossed the street to check on Callum who was right back at it in a neighbor's back yard. We ended the evening sharing a bottle of wine and some amazing dark chocolate (bunnies!) and some good conversation with these neighbors and friends. David said it, that the impromptu gatherings were the best, and he's right. We sat around their kitchen island as the big boys played lacrosse in the backyard and little-big William (he's three) brought us lightening bugs, one-by-one to see. Lightening bugs? Fireflys? Di and I like firefly, and Will opted for "firebug," and as the three of us walked home, I thought, "It's Tuesday." Plain old Tuesday.
Somewhere, on some blog I read recently (I'll have to dig around and find it.) the author asked if there was a place that was special to you that you vacationed as a kid with your family that you take your kids to now. A place that's special for you to bring your kids to. I don't have places like that. There weren't regular vacation places in my family. No mountain cabin or lake or beach house. But last night, as I was walking back home, I thought that place is summertime.
in the evening
We've had such a cool and rainy spring that we're still heading outside to cool evenings on the front porch, even this late in June. Don't tell but there are some kids hiding from a game of Man Hunt in the back of that truck.
I love the light at this time of night. The rudibeckia that Neel planted look more orange than yellow.
And the sweet potato vine becomes even more chartreuse, is that even possible?
Neel put a timer on the light under the golden rain tree, and he was tickled beyond belief when it turned on right at 8:30.
We stayed out until bedtime, listening to the kids laugh and getting gnawed on by skeeters. Summer is settling in.
plugged in
We got Callum an iPod Shuffle to celebrate the end of another great school year not knowing quite what it was going to mean for us. Apparently the soundtrack of our summer is going to be "It's Raining Men" by The Weather Girls. Sung at the top of his lungs, of course. Not a thing wrong with that, as far as I'm concerned. And I've just added "Eye of the Tiger."
beach days begin
Now this is not a bad way to start things off, is it? It didn't hurt that when I got to the car the girl in the back said, "Let's go, bitch!" Of course, she's two, and what I think she meant was, "Let's go to the beach!" I'm going to assume that's what she meant, at least.
When we got to the beach, her brother, who's four, said, "Look at those big bootys!"
Bouys, actually. Not bootys.
The boys headed out to sea.
And we didn't sit much.
Neither did they.
Everyone wanted to try on the swim mask. Here's Mackenzie saying, "I can't see Callum."
Not quite sure what's going on here.
I know what this is though. It's 100% cute.
spring storm
Our annual spring gully-washer took place this past week.
It takes a special kind of storm to flood our street, and it usually happens just once a year. River tides need to be high and rains need to be heavy to make the Avenue into a lake.
Our vantage point is pretty good for watching cars come barreling through, or brake suddenly and decide not to risk it! Generally at least one will flood the engine. Good for wading too. The only tricky part? Wanting to go out to dinner that night and having to drive across two yards to do it!
sunday supper, flying solo
SOBO seemed to be going their separate ways this weekend, so our little family had dinner on our own in the backyard last night. It had been, in my mind, a perfect Sunday. Brunch with some friends ($4 Eggs Benedict!), a trip to the Farmer's Market and our local garden store. Our Farmer's Market is really coming along, and by next week Callum and will be back in our rhythm of weekly visits. I'll take some pictures then.
Neel planted, and I supervised. I'm so excited. He's putting in a corkscrew willow. I've wanted one for ages.
Cool.
Hot.
Last night was the third day this week that I've had a version of that first salad. Thursday, at our end of the year school picnic, someone put crab salad in Sweet Hawaiian Rolls, man I love potlucks! A friend of mine recreated it Saturday night with crab, dried shallots, roasted red pepper and some chili sauce. My version last night combined the crab with avocado, celery and super sweet corn. All different, all delicious.
That second salad may be my new fave. Isralaei couscous with roasted beets, quickly sauteed zucchini and squash, bound together with a pomegranate molasses - honey - vinegar dressing. I just love Isralaei couscous, and beets are a new thing for me. I thank Neel. He thanks me for mayonaise, which he didn't used to eat.
Here's the crab salad, all dressed up. We have leftovers too!
Neel's started to lose his battle with gardening fatigue (note dirty knee), and Callum graced us with his presence long enough to eat, clear and head right back outside.
See that look? That's the face of the first Sunday of Summer Vacation. No where to go, no where to be. Nothing but days of sun and play ahead of him.
little big man
Dear Callum,
Well, we’ve reached it again. The end of another year. Today is when you say good-bye to third grade. You’ve had a week filled with fun things like a beach day with your partner class, and a PE party filled with water games (and the dentist, that was fun too, wasn’t it?!), but you’ve worked hard this year too and it’s important to look back and everything you’ve done in third grade. Papa and I are very proud of you.
You’re still nothing if not enthusiastic. You’re a hard worker and willing to take on any challenge. Your reading took off, in part because of the challenges your teacher presented your class and in part because of your own interest. While you and Papa still read Tintin together, you read all of the Harry Potter books on your own, handling the more mature moments within them better than your own mother could. And Harry Potter was just the beginning. You’ve been eating up books like they’re popcorn. You’ve developed your mother’s habit of reading before you go to sleep each night, and our rides to and from school are quicker and quieter with you reading in the backseat. You’re a great writer too. If you have writing homework you breeze through it. You like writing, I think. You like making emotional connections with your words, and you’re good at it. At nine, you already have a definite writing “style,” and that’s quite impressive. This year you won the Teacher Jane Book Award for your essay on The Long Winter, and not only did you write a great essay, but you stood up and read it in front of your whole school. Papa and I were bursting with pride that day! You like public speaking and acting too, I think, and your teachers have great plans for you on next year’s forensics team.
It’s not just reading and writing. Spelling has been a snap, history and science (Best Experimenter!) have captivated you, and even math has been exciting, as you’ve learned multiplication, division and fractions this year. Many, many accomplishments. Papa and I knew that third grade was where things really kicked into high gear academically, and you more than rose to the experience. You’ve loved your teacher this year, and she, it seems, has had a great appreciation of you as well. She loves your interest in history and your sensitive nature. I love it too. How my World War II movie-watching boy can be just as excited to read These Happy Golden Years with me. Renaissance Man.
This year you played lacrosse, your first time on a team. We made a deliberate choice to wait until third grade for you to participate in team sports, but you were ready. After a camp in the fall, we knew you liked lacrosse, and your time with the Nighthawks only cemented that. It wasn’t always easy. At the start you were shy and kids were mean, but you stuck with it. By the end of the season your hard work and steady personality paid off. Kids wanted to play with you, and kids stood up for you. Your goals were to get a sticker and score a goal in the season and you met both, several times over. At the Jamboree, you scored two goals, won two face-offs and had four assists. You had kids telling you that you should have been on the all-stars and that you were playing really well. Your coaches said you were the hardest worker on the team. Being on a team has been so good for you. You did better in school while you were playing lacrosse, and you gained a maturity at home as well.
This year has really cemented your relationships with your “at home” friends. You run with a pack of great kids in the neighborhood, and on the weekends we often say good-bye to you in the morning and don’t see you until nighttime! I love to see that you still enjoy a combination of imagination and pretend play along with hours and hours at the lacrosse rebounder.
More firsts this year, a ski trip for Papa’s birthday and a trip to Atlanta to meet your new cousin. You throw yourself headlong into everything we try, and your interest in travel and history led your teacher to encourage us to take you along on Papa’s next big trip to Hungary in the fall. I could tell by your reaction to this news that you love the idea of being a seasoned traveler. We can’t wait to go on this trip with you. Other firsts weren't as fun, like the flu and allergies so bad that you had headaches for a week.
You love dressing up for special occasions, and you look pretty sharp in your bowtie too! You adore your beloved pups, although we all think Thea is your favorite. You set the table for dinner each night, and we finally don't have to
remind you to clear the dishes when we're done. We do still have to
remind you to put your clothes in the hamper and put away your laundry,
but you're getting there.You still love popcorn and Gatorade each evening after school, and I still give you spelling tests while I stir the soup. After years of soup in your school lunches, you branched out to chili!
And next year, in fourth grade, you’ll get to use the microwave!
There's a lot to look forward to next year. We're talking just as much during your homework if not more. I'm enjoying our conversations most about your growing up. You're asking good questions, and you clearly have a thoughtful way of looking at the world.
I'm going to end this letter with something you wrote about yourself that your teacher shared with us at your conference this spring.
Papa and I could say a lot of wonderful things about our son, but this we couldn't have said this better ourselves. Congratulations on another great year, Callum. We're so proud of you.
Love,
Mama
birthday girl
Happy Birthday, dearest Megs. May the coming year be as wonderful to you as your friendship is to me.
this vine always make me think of my friend Mark
Whenever someone would say a word that had a funny pronunciation or that he hadn't heard before, he'd say, "Who you talkin' dirty to, smut-mouth."
Clematis.
Smut-mouth.
spring supper
Food? Spinach orzo salad with roasted garlic vinaigrette and chilled coconut and corn soup.
Drink? Sam Adams Summer Ale (water for Callum)
Family? Of course, dogs milling about under the table
Conversation? Who decked Callum @ lacrosse practice and how many push ups they got.
Music? Al Jarreau and Phoebe Snow (throwback for me)
The worst part? Pre-dinner whining and Neel headed back to work after. (Grant deadline, June 5.)
The best part? This is my life.
spring wedding
SOBO hoofed it north to Williamsburg for the wedding of one of our own this past weekend. I'm sure inviting a local tv weatherman didn't hurt, but it was the perfect spring weekend for some nuptials.
Location wasn't half bad either. I sometimes look back on events like this wishing I had taken so many more pictures. Pictures of the chapel, which was stunning and intimate and filled with afternoon light. Pictures of the room where we had refreshments before the reception, pictures of the house where they held the reception. But that's why people hire actual photographers. I get to be just a guest.
Jean and I joked about grabbing a couple of tri-corner hats to wear to the ceremony, and wouldn't you know a whole quartet of fife and drummers announced the bride and groom and led us in procession to the reception. I'm sure you can see a couple of bridesmaids. Can you spot Neel and Callum too?
It was the perfect night for a garden wedding reception. Wonderful food (Holy moly there was even a taco bar, how cool is that?! Definitely Callum's favorite part of the night, and probably Neel's too.) and the sounds of happiness and laughter mingling with the music from the band.
This tender morsel was my favorite bite of the night, who can pass up a ham biscuit? And Jean and I shared that delectable concoction. Called a cosmo, but we know better. It was delicious nonetheless.
The cake looked delectable.
The bride, in a reflective moment, was stunning.
And joyous while dancing with her father.
My own young man was very grown up.
And our dance was the highlight of my day.
Rebecca and Evans, this was your day. May your lives be filled with all the joy you felt on it.
this is not my kitchen
We have neighbors who have done the most astonishing thing. They moved out of their house for nine months and completely remodeled it. Head to toe, top to bottom. It's a funny thing about neighbors. We have some who are friends, good close friends, and we have some who are neighbors, the kind we wave at (sometimes) as we pass in our cars, but who I wouldn't recognize if I saw them in the grocery store. And some are in between. We don't see them enough. We catch up in grocery store aisles and in the middle of the street. We're always saying things like, "Oh we should do this more," and, "I feel like I never see you guys!"
Sara and her husband are those kinds of neighbors. Every time I'm with her, I have that settled sense you get when you just know that you like someone. That she's my kind of people. We've been laughing that we've seen more of each other over this past winter as she and her family decamped to deep in another part of the neighborhood than in years previous, but it taught us to be more intentional.
I love a work-in-progress, and these guys did this massive project the right way by clearing out and involving every surface of their home. We watched from far and near, commenting from the front yard fire pit as the green siding went up (We love it!), and from the bird's eye view of occasional wintertime tours.
Sara, it was clear, was fully engaged by this process. I think she may have found her calling. There's a bit of a back story here. When we first moved here, Sara invited me to a spirituality workshop given by her church. I think it's an annual thing they do, for women, and those of you who've known me awhile might have just spit out whatever morning beverage you were enjoying with this blog post at the thought of me at a church-sponsored spirituality workshop. Lauren and organized religion are not so tight, but Lauren and exploring spirituality and Lauren and making friends and Lauren and being brave are trying to get closer. That weekend with Sara, at her church's spirituality workshop continues to be one of my most resonant. It stands out for me. I should thank her for it every time I see her.
So when we stood in her half-finished kitchen and swept our palms over the subtly textured surface of her new granite counter tops, and she talked about being swept away with the glory of God's creation, I was right there with her. I might have chosen different words, had it been my own experience, but the awe? The pure astonishment at the gifts the earth gives to us? I was right there with her.
The feeling she described when the counters, the cabinets, the backsplash tiles, that gorgeous tile over the stove and the fixtures all came together, that sense of perfect oneness, for Sara it was the knowing you get when you've found the perfect gift for someone, I was right there with her. For me that feeling comes with a well-crafted sentence. We got each other in that conversation. It was a perfect accord.
If I love anything more than a work-in-progress, it's a house filled with empty rooms. Neel and I differ here. To him, those rooms are sad, to me they're expectant and waiting. I've loved walking with Sara through her empty rooms. Expectant. Planning. They've been moved back in for a few weeks now (and of course we haven't seen them except to wave as we drive past!), and I can't wait to see all of their stuff in place, the pear painting in the kitchen, the sofas against the deep deep color of the living room walls. I wonder, though, happy as she must be to be back home if sometimes my friend doesn't yearn, just the tiniest bit, for the echo and the expectation of those empty rooms.
flopped
What can I say? I've been busy. My allergies have been killing me this spring, making me want to scratch my eyeballs out, and making me less than interested in spending more than my working hours at my computer. My dad came to visit and that was fun. Lacrosse has been great and it's almost over. I've been cooking and knitting. I've been trying not to think about our kitchen constantly. Neel's writing a grant. Some days have been wonderful this spring, and let's face it some have been really hard and sad. We muster on.
I'm stocked up on flip flops now, so summer can come.
details, before the big picture
I know I keep dropping these (tantalizing? probably not) nuggets about our kitchen plans here on the blog, but except in my head which is fair to exploding, not much is going on. We're painting, and I've started in on our long-neglected trim work. Callum watched me gather my supplies and asked, "What are you going to paint?" I showed him the trim along one wall, and had him turn around to a wall of French doors surrounded by dingy white trim work. "You're going to paint ALL THAT?"
When I told him this was just the beginning, that we'd move through the whole house, he was even more surprised. "Even UPSTAIRS?!" I don't blame him for the horror in his voice. People, we have dentil molding to get through. Neel can do that part.
I was reminded of the bridge from San Diego proper over to Coronado. The year-long maintenance on that bridge included painting. Once they made it from one end to the other, the end where the painters began had already started peeling, so they started all over again.
Why do I have a feeling that that's what I'm in for.
fenced
Hydrangeas are quite possibly my favorite bush, and Neel knows how passionate I feel about them. I love how blowsy and brash they are. Hands on hips and bold, hydrangeas put it all out there. We have a row of them along our shed. One quite established, the others young upstarts. It drives Neel crazy that the dogs tear in and out among them, paying no heed to his delicate babies. We stopped by the hardware store on the way home from lacrosse last week to find some sort of fencing to wrap around this little bed. (Neel was mad enough at those dogs that I think caution tape would have made him happy.) We found some basic coated metal that almost disappears into the dense greenery. Just what Mr. Gardener was looking for. Tick. One thing off the list.
princess for a day
Last week was my birthday, and much like The Very Hungry Caterpillar, I ate my way through the day. It started at our Volunteer Breakfast at school where I tagged along to take pictures and was serenaded by the most beautiful rendition of Happy Birthday I've heard in some time. (I highly recommend getting professionals to sing for you on your birthday, next chance you get.) That meal was the zucchini quiche, and I forced myself not to go after a second piece.
After that, can you tell? Lunch at PF Changs, of course, with some dear girlfriends.
Hello, lettuce wraps.
Good-bye, lettuce wraps. Although lunch at PF Changs was weird because it took forever, and our server wasn't great, but it really seemed a kitchen thing, the reason we were there so long (two hours). The manager came and apologized and said he'd take something off the check, but then he didn't so my friend Tracy asked very nicely, and he comped us the whole meal. I told everybody that it was as if my birthday was my little gift to them. Free lunch.
We were supposed to fix a nice dinner that night after lacrosse practice, but after a two hour lunch, I just couldn't face another meal, so Callum and Neel ate my leftovers for dinner and after lacrosse we came home to this:
Cupcake Heaven! Catherine made these, aren't they amazing? I was just speechless. I still am.
So we all tromped across the street to where everybody was waiting, and Jean with Champagne Punch, and another singing of the Happy Birthday, and I felt so warm and cherished and just they way you should feel on your birthday.
My Champagne Punch.
Finally all those cupcakes came out and the kids just couldn't believe it, and the grown-ups couldn't quite either. Each of those little ones is like a bit of sushi, two perfect bites.
We loved it all so much that we did the same thing all over again on Friday night, right down to the punch. And then, well it was time for the Sunday dinner, so we did it all again but by then we'd moved onto a new dessert. Can't imagine a better birthday. Don't even want to try.