Sunday dinner @ 135

Just a little love letter to my grandparents' house (fondly known as 135):

Taken from flip video I took last weekend on a whim, shaky camera work and all. It's part of my personal geography, that house.  I love everything about it and the people therein.

Music: To Build a Home by The Cinematic Orchestra

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.

5 people x January

Taking a cue from Tara, I'm going to try to do a monthly round-up of what's going around in our house, complete with a family photo (except January, when it appears I didn't get the camera out at all so I'm borrowing a photo of the MFA instead) 

[edited to add: January is a month to convince yourself into enjoying things, don't you think?  So if this recap seems on the rosy side to you, you're right.  Be assured that there are many dismal and frustrating things I'm leaving out in order to spruce up the month a bit (or read some of them in my comment below).]

One highlight this month was attending the John and Abigail Adams Benefit Ball at the Museum of Fine Arts with G this past weekend. It was refreshing to get all fancied up and enjoy the art + music + food + people watching. It felt very Mrs. Basil E Frankweiler-ish to be drifting around the galleries after hours by ourselves.  I should have taken pictures (and didn't) but I did find a dress I loved (hence the mall trip in Sam's postcard below) and G looked very dashing.  I'm even getting better at cocktail party small talk and being brave about introducing myself to complete strangers.

In other news, I handed in my first qualifying paper, hosted the Young Women's New Beginnings last night, and am deliberating about my hair (again) and exercise regime (still) and house projects.

Lauren just finished midyears, a week-long exam week in her high school where they hold 3-hour exams in place of classes for a week, college style. Makes me glad I did high school the easier way, not the quasi-college way.

Also, she's taking an SAT prep class on Saturdays and is still fencing her heart out.  We hardly ever see her, really.

Lauren and I played a flute duet for stake conference + it was a pleasure to play together like that (I was so proud of her).  She has a robust social life and, recently, there's a certain favorite boy (and that's where the blogging boundaries end, I believe). 

Maddy keeps growing taller and taller, which has made her legs and ankles ache regularly.  

In typical Maddy style, she dives into many after school activities with gusto--model UN, student leaders, yearbook, helping a friend with stage design for the musical. She's transitioned to staying behind her closed bedroom door more often, texting, and littering her floor with clothes--full blown teenager but without much attitude (knock on wood).

I love that she wears an Audrey Hepburn pendant every day.

Sam went on a klondike derby campout with G (6 measly degrees! Brrr) and they were both great sports.  

Sam goes through wide piano swings, on one end of the spectrum flopping around and avoiding practicing and on the other end practicing up a storm and composing like crazy.  Guess when he likes his lessons more??  Yeah, it's a tough lesson to learn...over and over.  

He also plays basketball and still says "I love you" out loud when I drop him off at school in the mornings. It makes my morning and I consider each one a gift since I don't know how much longer it will last.

G had a great birthday this month--it's so nice to have something to celebrate in January. We surprised him by planning and booking a boys' ski trip to Utah this weekend for him and 7 high school friends who will be flying in from all over the country.  

G's also been coaching Maddy's basketball team, getting involved in some non-profits in Boston,  and working hard at his day job.

Also memorable: Blueberry pie for G's birthday from PetsiPies. The smell of snow in the morning. The taste of sixth grade spaghetti and the smell of sixth graders dancing. A few good fires in the fireplace. Watching the stars with Sam for his science project. Snow tubing at Nashoba. Mike's Pastries + italian food with Christin in the North End.

December glimpse: 3

The anticipation is building...

Chris and Nancy arrive from NYC this evening

The kids get out of school for vacation this afternoon 

Let the holiday begin,

Ready or not.

(I'm a little bit not: we still haven't decorated the tree, just sent out cards yesterday (will post here later) and we've kept everything verrrry simple this year but I'm embracing the hygge and emphasizing the togetherness. Or trying to, anyway.)

May your days be merry and bright!

(I'm off to grocery shop.)

Pieces of peace

1. Every Sunday, around 2:30.  Sunday nap. Weekly dose of peace and contented breathing, right there. *Sigh.* I feel peace just thinking about it. 

. . .

2. In August we took a short hike in the Adirondacks.  After a bit, we came to a clearing and the happy sound of water.  There had been some bickering as we climbed but now the kids scrambled out across the shallow falls, exploring and delighting in our find.  G and I sat at the edge, in the sun, quiet.  It's the spot I first think of when I think of a moment of peace from the year.  For that moment, we were together, the water was cool on my feet, and there was peace there in the pause between climbing up and hiking out. (And the entire upstate NY trip was a pause before the chaos of the fall schedule began, too.) 

. . .

Best of .09: Day 8: Moment of Peace. An hour or a day or a week of solitude. What was the quality of your breath? The state of your mind? How did you get there?  Join in the Best of 09 challenge here.