Friday, September 18, 2009
2. Apple-picking is coming up next.
3. Lately, things seem calmer and more balanced. Just the way I like it.
4. The beach is one of my favorite 'hiding' places.
5. What happened to people seeing the world as the place to explore and discover, grow and learn and not just what you go out and see if you have time.
6. Restoring balance after a busy summer is not impossible!
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to the observatory at the science museum and seeing the Omni film "Antarctica", tomorrow my plans include throwing a birthday bash for my "little" boy and Sunday, I want to have the grandparents over for lobster and watch my boy play soccer!
Friday, July 24, 2009
Or else you're doomed. Because today is:
Sunday, April 05, 2009
I'm so glad for the sunshine and spring warmth today. I raked out my garden,and saw all the perennial sprouts waiting there to say hello. Ahhhhhh!!!! The basketball is banging on the driveway again, and the baseball gloves are cluttering the kitchen. 'Tis the season to be jolly!
Thursday, April 02, 2009
We made a trip to Washington, DC a couple of weeks ago. I went to go see the glowing golden aura that I knew would be surrounding the White House, and sure enough, I saw it! Truly! I was a little surprised that the whole city wasn't levitating. Such a load off...But then we witnessed some weighty AIG discussions at the US Capitol (cool tour), and my bubble burst, remembering the pile of #@*& that was left behind to shovel out. The boys were wonderful travellers, and an unschooling mindset came in very handy when it was time to plan the day. They reminded me that going back to swim in the pool was way more interesting than going to see "one more exhibit." But they also trusted us to lead them around and show them the sights. Being there with them was such a kick, and we have loads of pictures and memories to share.
I lost a cousin. She died while we were away and I attended her funeral shortly after we returned. She was 50, married, with a teen son. Her legacy is one of simple, consistent giving to those around her. She was obviously grateful for every day, living with a delicate heart condition since birth, and she took the time to do and say the things that are often left undone and unsaid because we second-guess their importance, or because we think we'll have another chance. So I will try to honor her spirit by being more openly thoughtful, by saying the kind words rather than just thinking them, and by baking more cookies for my boys.
Nathan cut his long hair when we got back from vacation which made me feel both relieved and saddened. He said he just felt relieved. He loved the length, but hated to care for it...so it's not short-short...but he's got some bangs and his face is newly revealed to us again which I love.
Today we stayed home and watched LOTR and there were sword fights in the yard afterwards. Tomorrow we are headed into Boston for a kid-friendly presentation by the Boston Symphony Orchestra. It's supposed to rain, so we'll drive in, and maybe we'll catch a bite before heading back to our safe, dry home.
Feeling lucky and happy and myself.
Friday, March 06, 2009
I read the poem first at Sandra's blog, then got the template to do my own.
Where I'm From
I am from black-and-white portable TV sets, from Jiffy Pop and Volkswagon.
I am from the house in the woods with the long driveway, littered with pineneedles, shag-carpeted, the smell of a wood stove.
I am from the beach grass and the tall white pines, wild lady slippers, Dad's tomato plants and autumn leaf piles.
I am from daily trips to the sea and blue eyes, from Smith and Scrivener and Christobel.
I am from the cold ocean swims and long vacation drives.
From "be a nice person to everybody" and "don't waste half the day sleeping."
I am from it's not what you believe, it's how you live. Sunday school on a farm with a pottery wheel and finger paints.
I'm from Massachusetts, Old England, and Germany, clam chowder and mince pie.
From the news reporter who woke his children in the middle of the night to go see the big fire, the distracted artist who couldn't find herself, the young boy who hid from a spanking in the garden shed, delighted that his father couldn't find him.
I am from a Martha's Vineyard attic, a grandfather's basement workshop full of wonderous junk, old albums at Mom's house full of Polaroid glimpses, snapshots of happiness, gatherings and childhood well lived.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Thursday, February 05, 2009
I'm sorry Barack..."No, I can't."
But the jeans are getting tight....
It's time to become re-acquainted with my old friend....Ouch.
Or else I'm going to have to settle for a very fetching beach mumu in a few months.
Monday, February 02, 2009
I have been worrying about my Dad, and have gone back and forth to my parents' house this past week about an hour away. Dad found out that he had prostate cancer just before Christmas, and the decision was made to remove it all. He was very scared to have the operation as he has enjoyed a very healthy 74 years so far, despite previous smoking and drinking habits, and he was inexperienced with hospital stays and procedures. Plus, it's just plain scary.
I went down to drive him home from the hospital in the middle of a nasty snowstorm, determined to get him home to the comfort and quiet of his own bed. I stayed for two days and watched my parents manage this crisis in the matter-of-fact way that is their custom...but also with great tenderness and with the ease of their familiarity and trust. He let my mom help him, and she was respectful and kind to him. I did dishes, laundry, filled bird feeders, shoveled snow, cooked a bit, and stayed up late with my mom. I really did very little, but I felt that I was where I belonged.
When I was growing up, my parents both worked full time and there was not much time for family connection time or even affection. There was always a sense of deep dedication and a maybe false, but very real sense of permanaence as I look back, mostly thanks to my mom. The foundation shifted from time to time, but it didn't crumble. Now that there is the time and the need for affection, it is there. I find myself realizing it is never too late to show affection or to be more verbal about feelings. We realize how precious our time together is in a way we didn't before. I know my dad regrets not being more present for us as kids, but I also know that what he gave us then, and certainly what he offers now, is much more than he could have ever wished for from his own folks. He thanked me a lot for helping and told me that he thought I was a good mom; that he loved my kids and my husband. I'm glad he is still here to say such things, and I feel lucky to hear them. I can feel how important it is, and it reminds me of how powerful my own words can be to my kids.
My dad's healing heals me too.
to be what one is with all one's faculties and perceptions,
strengthened by all the skill which one can acquire,
And then to stand before the judgement of time.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
My middle boy is now ten. He is thrilled and happy to be ten. Happy to be on his way in the world, getting older and bigger. He notices that he can leap to the chin-up bar and his feet barely graze the floor now. Almost like his older brother.
He can leap farther across his bedroom almost to his brother's bed and he measures up to the bottom of my chin, his hand moving from the top of his blond head to my chest. He is loving and very forgiving, and he just sang a season of Christmas carols for us while he played piano.
This past year, he grew his hair out long until it went past his shoulders...like his older brother. Then, he recently decided to cut it short and he was glad to make the decision. He was happy to be free of the hair. Today, my mom gave him a lovely pure white stone that she found on the beach. She said that when she saw it, she knew he should have it. It is smooth and bright and softened. He loves it.
I am watching him get older before my eyes, and I miss the littler boy he once was.
I try not to dwell on that too much, though, because soon I will miss now, too.