In the gloaming

I'm writing this from the hammock in our back yard--with wireless access!--and am feeling pretty decadent. Greg has fallen asleep on the bench on the patio, a book open and face down on his chest. Louie is keeping watch from under the bench. The kids are doing homework for tomorrow at the table inside the open door, the long weekend suddenly screeching to a halt as the realities of deadlines and assignments suddenly appear.  (School's not out until June 21st for us. Sigh.) We've made a pact to stay out here for as long as we can because once we go inside, the weekend's officially over.  Someone will want dinner or clean clothes or to talk about the 5872 things we have on the calendar this week as school slowly winds down with one recognition assembly/concert/game/event after another.

 

Yesterday afternoon, after church and naps, we decided on the spot to take a Sunday drive to Wingaersheek beach in Gloucester. We read out loud in the car up and back, flew a kite in the breeze and watched the sun set. I was so happy with our spontaneity.  And with the lovely, glowing light--the gloaming. Sometimes I look at these faces and am just smitten with motherlove.

And then sometimes, like today, we have silly + emotional showdowns in public at Subway over who owns a certain pair of earrings (+in the process the earrings end up on the floor and no one will pick them up) and the smitten-ness is tempered with a sprinkling of irritation and eye-rolling. It's a fickle pendulum, this mothering thing.  Just when you think you've got it right, you don't.

But still.  I'm dazzled. By who they are + are becoming, by my wide gaps in competence and my abundant weaknesses and occasional bursts of doing it alright, by the delicious aching laboratory these years are. Most of the time we are both kites and kiteflyers: we soar and swoop, rise and fall and we hold on to each other, hoping we all stay both aloft and anchored.  No wonder it's a tangle sometimes.

The mystery of you...(and where I've been)

As luck would have it, my brother Matt planned to come east from Denver right during the same weekend G and I were planning on heading to NYC.  So Matt stopped by Boston, visited the kids, and then drove to the big city with us. G was busy during the days with a conference but the four siblings managed to get together a bit for a rare together time.  So hyggli, so lucky!
 

 How could I resist? Thank you Mr. Elbow Toe.  So true. 

 Matt, Nancy, and I went to L'Ecole, the restaurant for the French Culinary Institute where students run the show. It was lovely. (Thanks to stephmodo for recommending it.)

 

We walked all around the city (I think I walked 12 miles one day), did The Highline, went to a couple of movies, ate at Hampton Chutney, browsed windows and a used bookstore, talked and talked, attended evensong at St. Thomas Cathedral. 

Yesterday I was on my own so I spent the day at the Met and in Central Park. And I might have gone to Pinkberry for breakfast and dinner, ordering my favorite: original with mango, raspberries, and pineapple.

G was international law guy by day, handsome companion by evening. We ate and wandered and talked and laughed and slept in. Twas a good few days.

As for re-entry? Number one on the to do list: get a replacement retainer for Sam. Louie ate the old one yesterday, if you call 6-days-old "old."  How many jobs does it take an 11-year-old (or a dog) to pay off a new retainer?  We'll find out soon enough!

Unwound

Something in me, something knotted tight and anxious, unwound this weekend. Just like that.  What felt like a twisted tight spring now feels free and easy like ribbons.  I don't know what it was but it's gone. Good riddance, I say.

Was it being with my people? Was it spending leisurely, languishing, laughing hours with my mom, dad, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins?

Was it thinking about my particular path and sharing it publicly in a setting where all the different, diverse paths were honored + not dichotomized?

Was it listening to the symphony play Mahler's 5th Symphony (my cousin playing the bass in the orchestra)? Or sitting next to my 90-year-old grandfather while he tenderly wiped his eyes?

Was it reading East of Eden? I finished it last night on the plane and sat cradling it to my chest for many minutes, thinking over its mastery (oh, the envy) and Steinbeck's celebration of "that glittering instrument, the human soul."

Was it sitting across from friends, both newly made and long held, sharing stories and souls?

Was it hours of thinking time staring out the airplane window with the perspective you only get from 30,000 miles in the air (and no, no one asked to sit on my lap)?

Yes, yes, and yes.  Whatever it was, I'm grateful.

And it was coming home, too, where part of my heart was waiting for me:

Video found via GwenBell

Sappy but true

Update on Thursday, March 4, 2010 by Anne

Sorry for the technical difficulties today!  I know there was a weird login screen that popped up for a while there but it's fixed now.  Or so I hope.  It's not you, it's me and my technological ineptness. (Thanks again, Anna, for letting me know!)

p.s. I meant 30,000 feet not miles.  I'm not an astronaut, in case you were wondering.

Santa squirrel drops in for a visit

This morning I had a surprise visitor from a Santa impersonating squirrel.  I was in the next room and I heard a plop and the fireplace screen door opening. I went in to investigate and IT WAS A SQUIRREL that had come down the chimney.  A squirrel, in the house, running around crazily and bumping into windows and jumping on things.  Neither of us were very happy about the situation.  Here's what I learned:

While I do fancy myself as someone who's good in a crisis, it turns out I do freak out and squeal loudly and talk to myself when there is a wild animal loose in my house.

Emergency pest control services cost $195.

Apparently the "emergency" part does not mean they come quickly.

(two hours later) Opening all the windows, channeling the Three Blind Mice farmer's wife, and shooing it with a broom works just as well, thereby saving us $200.

I feel like that $200 is now mine to spend as I choose.

Louie is not a hunting dog (remember how he's not a watchdog either? When will he earn his keep?).

While he didn't trap or chase the squirrel, Louie was a good wingman, standing in the doorway & preventing the squirrel from running into the rest of the house.

Wild animal stress will drive me to eat all the Trader Joe's peanut brittle 3 hours after I swore off sugar.

The stress of being cooped in a human home drives squirrels to wet their nonexistent pants.

Also, google images even has something fitting the search term "santa squirrel":

. . .

Best of .09: Best rush.  Well, I'm inclined to say this squirrel-chasing thing was quite a rush.  But I guess I'll have to go with the shock in receiving the Zero to Three fellowship and attending the first retreat.  If a rush is measure by adrenaline and heart rate, I'd say mine hit a year-long high when I was presenting my project to that group and the mentors, all eminent leaders in the field & heroes of mine.  

Oh, but I reserve the right to change my answer after I take the young women I mentor at church on an adventure at the end of the month: skydiving in a wind tunnel.  Gulp.

Big City weekend

My mom and I spent Labor Day weekend in NYC, seeing shows, eating good food, and visiting with my sister Nancy, who lives there. I know I've said it before but New York is something of a pilgrimage for us. My parents lived there and loved it, I was born there, yada yada lalala. I grew up hearing NYC stories and feeling like it's home. It's one of our happy places. So when my mom came to Boston for a visit with us, we jumped on the chance to sneak away to the Big City for the weekend.

Big Apple, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways (and share in case others are looking for some NYC tips, especially since I got a lot of guidance from others' blogged suggestions. Isn't blogland grand?).

Good eats:

~ italian pre-theater dinner on 9th Ave at Roberto Passon : warm beet salad with goat cheese + veal scallopine

~ pear, brie, and honey sandwich at a french bistro I can't remember the name of but now I have a new favorite sandwich

~ Moto in Brooklyn: artichoke with saffron mayo + side of mashed potatoes + heavenly date cake

~ Pinkberry: coconut fro yo with dark chocolate and shaved coconut

~ Mother Burger: late night (post theater) lemonade and shared fries sitting in a courtyard and people watching

~ Magnolia Bakery (the one near 30 rock): devil's food cupcake with cream cheese frosting

~ junior mints at every show (to be expected when you're with my mom)

The Theata:

~ Billy Elliott, (with David Alvarez as Billy) Amazing.

~ West Side Story (we loveloveloved Anita and Maria and Bernardo but Tony was having an off night, although he is very handsome)

~ we decided to see The September Issue, the documentary about Anna Wintour (you know, the inspiration for the Devil Wears Prada) and producing the September issue of Vogue. I am now a huge fan of Grace Coddington; she steals the show

~ the 39 Steps (I had seen it before with G but it was still great fun. Kind of a mystery and a farce all in one)

New York moments--priceless:

~JLo and Marc Anthony sat a couple of rows in front of me at Billy Elliott. Totally surreal! He is tiny, she is gorgeous. They left with a bodyguard a little before intermission and again a little before final curtain.

~ sitting in Bryant Park with my mom, Nancy, and Nancy's boyfriend Dave. The fashion week tents were up, people were playing ping pong, and a quite crazy, slightly dressed, bearded woman nearby (she looked like Pan) made for a memorable afternoon

~ eating yogurt breakfast on a bench in Central Park

~ exploring the Brazil Day street festival on 5th Avenue, complete with mechanical bull riders, street food, loud music, and lots of yellow and green

~ hitting the candy bar at FAO Swartz

~ pretending we were guests at the Plaza Hotel (i.e., snooping through the lobby and smelling the flower arrangements to see if they were real)

~ watching the swing dancers in the center of Times Square

~ admiring the rooftop views from Nancy's apartment building in Brooklyn. Breathtaking.

~ listening to the Mad Jazz Hatters at Moto (see photo, far right. I was right next to them and loved every minute of it). Very cool early jazz + jugband + klezmer sound

~ seeing a guy in handcuffs on Times Square, standing next to some policemen. On closer examination, we saw that the guy was wearing a tshirt that said "Doesn't play well with others." Classic.