Columbus, we really like your day

After getting all of our have-to-do list done this morning (statistics for me, homework for the girls, flopping around and bored moaning for Sam), we headed east for a chilly but lovely hour at Wingaersheek beach just outside of Gloucester (by the way {helpful Boston insider info}: pronounced glaw-ster, not glou-cest-er).

We figured it was the least we could do on Columbus Day; since he traveled all that way to our shores we could do the same. Yes, I got carried away with photos. (In fact, we also made a movie with MORE photos if these 21 photos aren't enough...)

So that was the best part of the weekend (even though we missed Greg, who had to work today) along with a nice day out with Greg on Friday when the kids were at school.

  

The worst part? Coming home from that Friday date and finding that Louie got out of his gate, got into the Halloween face paint and smeared it all over our sofas and rug. And then had the nerve to have two days of diarrhea.  Grrrr.

Don't stand so close to me...

We're headed to the Police/Elvis Costello concert tonight.

So excited, about both.

And feeling a little geezerish 

when I admit that I kind of hope 

everyone doesn't stand up

the WHOLE time.

{Can't we have a little designated rest time, people?

Just for a little while...

maybe during Message in a Bottle?}

I'll give you a full report 

on Sting's biceps

and Elvis's glasses

tomorrow.

De do do do, de da da da... 

p.s.

Remember this?

When they play Roxanne,

I'll be thinking of my nephew Jackson.

Things are looking up in winterland

the fattest robin I've ever seen, reminding me to get my sorry self out on a run

Ah, it's been a good day. I have to admit I've had the late winter blahs lately so I'd just like to thank the universe for sending me a little hope today.

1. First, things are looking up in winterland. I'm hearing birds. The air has a little (I said little) balminess to it. Rains early in the week melted almost all of the snow. The sun turned up bright and early, sheepish and penitent like a truant 7th grader: Yeah, I know. I wasn't here. I tried but I couldn't make it. But at least I'm here now...right?

2. I went on a great run. {And let me start with a bit of truth and reconciliation: lately I haven't actually been running as much as I thought I would. I know, I did this whole listen world, I'm back running announcement. But after that I've been kind of like Fred Thompson's presidential campaign: all announcement and very little running. All the usual excuses--wintry weather, sick self & kids--amounted to maybe a run or two a week for the last month. You might say I'm a fair-weather runner. And you'd be right.} But this week I found a great 4-mile loop through town and farmland that completely makes my heart sing. And pump--although I'm still run/walking. And I found a cool site that lets you map out your route & find out the distance/calories/pace, etc. No more clocking it with the car--I love technology.

3. Then this morning I happened to be online at the same time as my brother Chris, half a world away in Mali. So we spent an hour and a half chatting via instant messaging. What a luxury--to just hang out virtually and have a conversation about everything and nothing. Love that boy. Man, really. I love technology, part 2.

4. Cleared out some flower beds and generally cleaned up the yard a bit. Just my little act of faith that there will eventually be flowers there.

5. Read a good book with the sun streaming through the windows & spilling over the pages. Let myself snooze for a few minutes.

6. Had this conversation with Lauren on the way to her flute lesson:

L: today we had a speaker in Health who has HIV/AIDS [many of our conversations these days revolve around what happened in Health class that day!]. Her life story was so sad! {She goes on to give me the details of her troubled life, including abuse, alcoholism, crime, prison and generally struggling to find her way. Very heartbreaking.}

A: I know, doesn't it seem like some people just have way too many helpings of grief? Like it's just not fair?

L: Yeah, in the middle I was so sad for her. I thought "she needs a hug." [this is a standard Lauren philosophy. She makes the world better through hugs.]

A: [half kidding] So did you give her one?

L: I did! At the end I went up and said "you need a hug" and gave her a big one. I think she was surprised. She whispered "thank you."

I think I'll keep her.

vgd*

A very good day, this is--the polar opposite of Alexander's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. There's nothing especially monumental about it. A big wide white porch with wicker furniture is involved. As is a tall glass of Diet Coke with ice and a good book. And a morning of dancing in the kitchen with the kids and taking a long walk earlier in the quiet morning. And (oh the bliss of a babysitting daughter!) the prospect of going to a movie later with Greg.

I'm here on the porch, serving as air traffic controller with my cell phone by my side. Occasionally the phone chirps and someone needs permission or a ride.

Maddy is walking around the town center with two of her friends, all three chirpy and heady with the rush of the new independence of window shopping and going for an ice cream cone alone. (One phone call: "does it matter to you where we go for ice cream?" [answer: no]. Another: "We found a really cute headband. Can I get it with the change left over from ice cream?" [answer: yes, but you'll have to pay me back from your miserly savings].)

Lauren is at a friend's house, practicing for the school talent show this week. Apparently at the practice yesterday, the supervising teacher tactfully suggested they do more work on their lip synch/choreography number (why do middle school kids so love to lip synch?) before she could grant them a spot.

Sam and Greg are off on their own, taking the rare opportunity to go do manly things together like get gear at the outdoor store and go kayaking. Last time Greg (ever the optimistic dad!) took all the kids kayaking and decided the whine factor would be greatly reduced (and the enjoyability for him) if he did it one-on-one for awhile.

Very simply, the recipe for a basic vgd* for me right now is this:

walk + write/create/read + family + embrace now + do what needs doing = contentment

Everything else is just gravy, you know? What's your vgd* equation?

*vgd (in case you didn't pick it up) = very good day