Universe, you've got some 'splainin to do...

~On my way out the door (Literally. Coat on, suitcase in hand, kissing kids slumbering in their beds, five minutes before leaving for the airport) on a long-anticipated weekend trip to see friends, I found that S was really hot. Feverish. I woke him to check and, yup!, he had a sore throat and raging fever. It took only a couple of moments (and S's quivering chin when he was trying to be brave) to realize this trip ain't happening, my friend. I wouldn't respect myself if I went. Sometimes being the grownup isn't all rosy privileges.

~Miss meeting fabulous friends. Miss hearing TravelinOma speak. Miss going to the Frames concert with friends (the Once musicians). Miss surprising friends/family with my appearance. Miss, also, using the Boston Ballet Swan Lake tickets that I had cancelled for trip. Drat.

~Trip to the doctor (brought L, too, who was also feeling poorly) yielded negative strep tests. Disappointment, because we were all hoping to have antibiotics to knock the sickness out. Plus we were all pretty sure they did have strep.

~Sent both kids back to school the next day, only to be called by the doctor's office notifying me that (oops!) they do indeed have strep. Go to school, apologize profusely for exposing everyone, and bring S home. L is almost done with her day by then so I let her finish out her last period (with math test). You're welcome, entire high school studentbody, for the germs!

~Find out we weren't invited to a party for some people we know. Feel kind of lonely and friendless. Realize I need to make more friends who live near me as opposed to the kind that used to live near me but have moved away. Or who I moved from.

~Find out that the children's book I have just finished writing has actually already been written in essence by someone else. Different characters, different situations, same idea and theme (that I thought were completely original). Are you kidding me?? I've never in my life heard of the book. But it exists. Darn.

~Start feeling crummy. Sore throat. Shivery. Sleep, sleep, sleep, repeat...missing two training runs in the process...

* * *

Here's the thing, universe:
I have the best guy in the world who let me sleep for basically the last two days.

Who built a fire in the fireplace last night because it was chilly
and he knows how much I love it.

Who assembled my new bicycle for me while I was...you guessed it...sleeping, just because he knew I was anxious to see it and (hopefully) to ride this week.

Who knows what to do when I'm feeling disappointed and sick and sad.

So I can't be mad for long.

I'll rework the book,
feel better tomorrow (I love ya, tomorrow!),
make new plans to see friends,
and even plan to make new friends.

In balance, I always come out blessed.
But you still have some 'splainin to do.

First of a million kisses

{warning: melancholy alert! melancholy alert! what is it with me lately??}

I have spent an entire evening reviving an old obsession with a favorite band. Never mind that I am doing a workshop tomorrow that I need to prepare for. Or that my to-do list does not include chasing down videos of a 20-years-defunct band.

Once I was a 19-year-old girl (yes, really).
I was in London, on my own, away from home...
really away from home for the first time.
Umbrellas were very often involved,

as were late 80s clothes and a bad perm.

I fell in love with the Scottish band Fairground Attraction (led by the fantastic Eddi Reader) & listened to the tape (yes, tape) constantly. Truly, it was the soundtrack of my time there. This was one of my favorites (note: it's a little slower than the original recording. And, yes, she's a hand gesturer. Try and look past it if you can.)

Achhh, that makes me want to be Scottish. Sadly, the band broke up year after recording their album but Eddi continues to record (and her brother, Francis, is the lead singer for the Trashcan Sinatras by the way. Hmm...did I just cross the line to too nerdy? This post might just be for me.)

Today when it came on my ipod, those London memories came flooding back. Along with the current-day gratitude that the person I was thinking about back then as I walked around London became the man I'm married to now. Allelujah!

More Eddi Reader links:
Eddi Reader at TED conference & her bio there
Her website

And this one's for my mom...

I'm leaving...on a jet plane

I'm off today to San Diego with Greg for a Valentines/anniversary/+ reunion with old friends weekend. Greg had meetings today in Atlanta so we're meeting in California tonight. (I'll try not to look up where he is and get hit by a car..."you were there" a la An Affair to Remember.)

After awakening to a slushy ice & snow storm this morning {complete with shoveling}, I'm ready for a little sun and warmth. Keep your fingers crossed for me that I can get out of the airport. Otherwise Greg will have a lonely little weekend~

{Kudos and gratitude to my mom for coming in for a grandma weekend with the kids.}

41

in England a few years ago

He's wide open and reserved, driven and gentle, disciplined and spontaneous, funny and smart. He volunteers to coach more teams than he has time for and every single teammate (especially his own kids) adores him. He has a way with teenagers that lets them know they're loved & accepted and capable of reaching higher expectations. Although he's a fantastic corporate attorney, he has the heart of a high school social studies teacher (and a secret wish to be one).

He has a weakness for southern barbecue pulled pork sandwiches, Volkswagen vanagons, vintage convertible Mustangs, spy novels, open chip bags in the pantry, and (somehow) me. He listens like no one I know (take that, Mars and Venus!). He speaks English and Danish and Russian and can interpret my own mixed signals. He's Joseph and George Bailey and Atticus Finch rolled up into one good man.

He's 41. And, remarkably, he's mine.

in NYC 2007

Happy Birthday, G.

Quick recovery

Greg is sitting at the kitchen table, changing our options for life insurance. The kids are around...doing homework, walking in and out...so they hear some of the discussion around the dollar amount of the policies for each of us.

Maddy pipes up: Wow, Dad. If you die, we'll be rich!

Amused silence.

She quickly adds: ...rich in sadness, that is!

Well played, Miss M, well played.