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 Dean's quilt blocks, laid out on a bed sheet in order to make final design decisions. I tried the blocks in a number of different layouts, and Dean chose this one (also my favorite). And then Ken said, "well why not make it queen-size because then it will be more useful for him for longer?" So today I'll make 7 more blocks so I can add a column, and I'll make the run to the fabric store to find a nice steely blue for the borders. Tomorrow it's back to the office, so I probably won't be ready for basting for another week or so. Momentum. It's a thing.

And lunch, that's a thing too. A mid-day break for our favorite kind of snacky- tapas-y lunch, enjoyed along with watching the Liverpool game (a draw against Man. City leaves us barely hanging on to 4th). I think this is why Sunday was invented -- at least, for us.

Sparkling

Something about the season is helping to rekindle my spirit and energy. Feeling a shade more my old self -- getting things done, making gifts, baking cookies, days merry and bright. Hope I can hold on to it.

Memory

Without any great sense of purpose or schedule, I've been slowly, erratically working my way through the few boxes of my mother's things that have landed here with me.

Just now, I came across this photograph -- me, at about age 8 or so? -- taken at the beach that was in walking distance from our house. We spent too many summer days there to count, cooling off and rinsing off sand on the way home by walking through the sprinklers set up to give little city patches of grass some relief from the summer sun.

I don't remember ever seeing this photo before. My parents, both photographers, were very casual with drawers full of photos primarily taken by my mom with the film developed and the photos printed by my dad. This one is, so typically, just a contact proof, printed by laying the negative right on top of the photo paper. Not chosen to be printed individually, not balanced for exposure, not even with all the dust blown off (I've cleaned it up in PS just a little).

It makes me smile to think that spring is coming, and after that, summer. Maybe we'll get to the beach this year.

What makes it good

Dean and his classmates put on a matinee and evening performance of Midsummer Night's Dream yesterday to deservedly thunderous applause. The kids were fantastic -- believe me, unless you'd been holding tickets to the Royal Shakespeare Company or something you wouldn't have been disappointed in anything about this production (except maybe that you couldn't have gotten a seat because the place was jammed). They might even have had something on a professional production because aside from putting on a show worthy of an adult audience, they also managed to capture the rapt attention of the rest of the children in our school (ages 5 on up). Some of the younger children loved it so much in the afternoon that they made their parents bring them back in the evening to see it again!

The things that you can really boil down to identify that made it go so well were that the kids all truly understood what they were saying (it was the real thing -- not some Shakespeare-modernized malarky), they entirely enjoyed what they were doing, and they were completely confident and comfortable. Although Dean was initially disappointed in the poor quality of the "wall" costume, he got it once he thought about the fact that the play within a play that he and his fellow *tradesmen* were putting on was supposed to be cheap and goofy.

And counter to cheap and goofy, I present rich and gooey. On the premise that adding oatmeal to anything instantly makes it good for you: oatmeal raisin chocolate chip cookies. Yum.

1/2 lb. (2 sticks) unsalted butter at room temp.
1 cup brown sugar
1/2 granulated sugar
2 eggs at room temp.
1 tablespoon (yes) vanilla
1 tablespoon water
1 and 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 and 1/2 cups rolled oats
1 cup raisins
1 cup chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 375f. Line cookie sheets with parchment paper.

Cream butter with both sugars. Scrape down mixing bowl, and add eggs, vanilla, and water til just combined. Add flour, soda, salt, oats and mix until all is well incorporated. Add raisins and chips, stirring in by hand.

Using an ice cream scoop or measuring cup, scoop up 1/4 cup sized mounds of dough and place 2 inches apart on parchment. Bake 16 or 17 minutes -- edges will be brown but centers will still be soft. Slide parchment off sheets and allow cookies to cool on parchment, on racks. Makes about 15 cookies.

The game

I don't remember how it started, or when.

Did we play it in college? Did I invent it?

Was it something from that period after college -- the early career years when I got to be friends with a great group of people at work and we'd socialize all the time on evenings and weekends?

Or did it just come to me yesterday in the doctor's office, when I wanted to help Dean pass the time in an easy, enjoyable way?

I don't know. But now Dean and I are addicted.

You start by -- NOT saying that you are about to play a game -- but by simply saying two things:

Peanut butter or jelly?

or

Dogs or cats?

Any two things. As you'd expect, the person to whom you've said this is initially a little bewildered. "Huh? Peanut butter or jelly? What do you mean?"

"I'm just asking: peanut butter or jelly?"

And the person responds. Maybe he picks one. Or maybe, as he did when I got to "dogs or cats?" he says something else entirely: "hamsters!"

And then maybe he says (as Dean did), "can I do that? Can I say something else?" Because now he's on to the fact that this is a game, and the game must have rules.

"You can say whatever you want."

The magic of the game is that it just starts, and it just goes. To me, the power is in the hands of the person responding. Indeed, say anything you want. Don't feel that you have to explain or justify your choice.
I will be bold and predict for you that the person you begin this with will quickly become immersed. "More!" he or she will demand, as you start to slow a little in coming up with questions.

Ocean or forest?

Good or evil?

Chocolate or vanilla?

Just as the responder has no need to defend or explain a response, so the questioner has no responsibility to explain or defend. We started this with Ken when we got home, for example, and he demanded, "context! I need context!"

My response was that it's in your hands -- it's whatever context you choose. This had come up with Dean as our game continued during our two-hour car ride back home from the doctor's (rush hour; should have taken less than an hour otherwise). I'd said, "Mexican or Chinese?" and he said, "food, right? You're talking about food?"

Whatever you want it to be, and you don't have to say.

But back to that point when you start to slow down, when it gets to be a little hard to think of things quickly. That's when you get to say, "now you ask me!"

Big or small?

London or Paris?

Today or tomorrow?

Sean Connery or Pierce Brosnan?

Try it. I think it will be your new favorite thing.

Snow day!

A real, true blizzard descended upon us on Tuesday night. For the first time in my memory, school for Wednesday was canceled at dinnertime on Tuesday -- so rather than the traditional wake-up-on-a-snowy-day-and-wait-to-hear-if-school-is-canceled routine, we were able to do the dance-of-joy before going to bed and, wonderfully, sleep in.

Ken's school (he works at a university) was also closed -- another very unusual and wonderful circumstance!
When we went out to shovel at about 10:30 a.m., we measured 14 inches of snow; by the end of the day, I'd say we had about 18 inches or so.
The winds didn't really howl, and the snow stayed relatively dry (light) for most of the storm, so we were mercifully spared any power outages, although internet connectivity was spotty. But hey, who needs the internet when there's snow to romp in?
We played, we drank hot cocoa, and we relished the quiet, white world.

They are NOT slow, you know

There are so many things going on right now. So many things I am working on, thinking about, planning. Work is insanely busy because the end of every school year is always busy, and so things are crazy for Dean, too. His soccer season has almost ended (which frees up our time just ahead of having the World Cup take our lives over).

I despise not having the time here that I would like. Photos I want to share, stories I want to tell, ideas I want to spread. I must be content, at the moment, with just this short post to say that I have more I'd like to say. Soon.

Meanwhile, Dean and I suspect that the sudden turtle activity on our street means that females are seeking out sites in which to lay eggs. We need to do a little research to see if this theory holds. We've been ensuring that the ones we find make it off the road and into the woods.

They are VERY fast, we'll have you know. Turn around and in a flash they are gone. Places to go, things to do, and oh so little time.

The Lottery

We buy lottery tickets. Ken keeps an eye on the jackpots; there are a couple of different state lotteries, and then Massachusetts is part of a multi-state mega jackpot lottery. Every once in a while, we'll have a dinner table conversation about what we'd do if we ever won $5, $10, $200 million dollars. Ken is kind of a *lottery savant* -- tell him the jackpot amount and he'll tell you the lump-sum payout and the take-home after taxes. (It's a gift.)

Anyway, we all enjoy thinking about not just what we'd do for ourselves, but how we'd take care of family, friends, and causes that are important to us. It's worth a dollar or two to foster these daydreams, and someone has to win, right?

And the other reason we don't feel we're senselessly throwing money away is that we actually like the fact that our dollar or two is making possible someone else's dream come true -- that we're contributing to someone's most unbelievably awesome day.

Still, it would be nice to win -- Team Paradox would certainly have it's money problems solved!

The Wild

Last weekend, Dean discovered tree climbing (see him in there?). The combination of physical strength, a healthy degree of risk-taking, good sense about how to approach it safely, and a desire to be up in his own place culminated in many happy hours spent in the activity. We have pines like this all over our yard which really are just perfect for climbing; the branches start right from the base of the tree and fan out, all the way up, in just about boy-sized intervals.

It's fairly private in there, too. I have these plans in my head for how it would be possible to build a small platform up there, just big enough for 2 people to sit, with a pulley for bringing up the books, beverages, and snacks. Nothing as grandiose as a "house." And I actually think it would be safer without a railing (because I think that would give a false sense of safety and encourage standing when sitting would really be the purpose). I'm trying to decide if this is a case of my trying to over-engineer something and if it's better just to let Dean make his way in the trees as they are, or if having a perch up there would make for a more magical summer.

The forecast is calling for very cold temperatures toward the end of this week and into the weekend. The upside would be proper conditions for one more fire in the fireplace; the downside could be the shock to the poor plants that have been brave enough to send up shoots....

Seeing the train station

Last week, Dean's class took a field trip to Boston. They are currently studying transportation, so they spent the day using as much public transportation as they could, and talking with a couple of experts in the city about urban planning, transportation, and the environment. They were supposed to ride the commuter ferry boat, but the weather was so raw that it wouldn't have been enjoyable at all. I arrived at the station a little early to pick him up at the end of the day, and decided at the last moment to bring my camera along.

I'm still enjoying the experience of seeing what I could see at the station.

Happy Friday

A happy Friday to you.

Happy sunny day, end of the week, ready for adventure day. Happy make some plans, finish up some projects, get it done and start something new day. Happy take a break, review the week, and think about the weekend day.

We have, ahead of us, half a weekend that we 'just have to get through,' and then half a weekend to be home and relax and enjoy. Today I have a half-day of work, and some errands and chores to do, and I plan to make some time for some fun. It feels good, this morning.

Gift of a day

For those of you living in places that are hot and dry right now, I share with you a shivery, sparkling rush of cold, cold snow. We're at the beginning of a storm this morning that's caused school to be canceled; even Ken is home from work which is so rare that it tells you just how bad the forecasters are expecting this one to be. Not so much because of inches of snowfall, although there is a possibility of 5 to 10, but because it could eventually turn to slush, then sleet, then freezing rain, then rain and that causes treacherous roadways and often a flooded garage for us.

I'm afflicted with the tendency to think I'll achieve more on a snow day (or a weekend, or a vacation) than history suggests I will. I'm trying to keep that in mind as I think about our plans. I'd like to do some sewing, some crafting, some cleaning, some baking -- already I feel myself getting too far out ahead of what's likely. Hmm. OK -- what I'd like is to feel at the end of the day is that I took advantage of the gift.

Turtle talk

Had you guessed? Sharyn guessed, and perhaps I built it up too much so that maybe Lesley thought it would be more than this, [edited to say just me being foolish, yet again!] but the turtle eggs laid in the front of the house in June have finally, finally hatched out as baby turtles in September. In our case, it hasn't been like one of those National Geographic specials where there are hundreds of baby turtles emerging all at once (although maybe that part did happen and we missed it). For us, it is now a daily process of discovery -- is that a rock up ahead or is it a turtle? Thankfully we've found more alive than dead, though it is still heartbreaking to come across them once it's too late to rescue them off the street and into the woods. (The black stuff on Dean's hands, by the way, is paint from a school project and is not turtle-related.) They are perfect little ancient-looking things, fragile yet resilient, ready to make the long walk down to the river. I hope all this rain has helped them.
I was marveling the other day at how rich a wildlife summer it has been, and I was wondering why all of a sudden we've got so many creatures active in our yard so far this year. Coyote, turkeys, snakes, rabbits, toads, turtles, chipmunks, deer, bats, and more different birds than we've seen before, including gorgeous flocks of Canadian geese just recently. Then I started laughing at myself as I realized that in all likelihood this is no different than any other year; what's different is that we are outside in our yard and on our street for about 2 hours every day now since we have a dog to walk. These wonders have been out there all along, but we've missed most of them because we used to spend time outdoors in nature by getting into the car and driving away from our house and our street and going someplace else to walk and observe and admire. Makes me feel better about all that time that's "wasted" in dog walking....

Saturated

I love the quality of light on rainy days. I love the color saturation you get when you bring out the camera. I can feel the sadness in these beach toys; they just seem to know that now summer is on its last, feeble legs.
Despite dire forecasts of nasty flooding and downpours, the weekend's rain managed to stay quite civilized. It was no problem getting into Boston yesterday to see Kooza, the Cirque du Soleil show we'd bought tickets for months ago. Kooza is one of their traveling shows, and I urge you with all my heart to check out the list of cities and see if it's coming near you. And if it is, go see it. We love Cirque du Soleil; all three of us have seen La Nouba, and Ken has seen a bunch of the Vegas shows (he didn't care for Love, though so we don't recommend that one). Anyway, it's hard to describe what these shows are like -- all I can think to say is that it's like an intense dream of a circus; something more rich, more layered, more textural, with more meaning. I'm struck by how, even though it's one "ring" (although that's hardly the word) unlike Ringling Brothers' 3 rings, you still struggle to try to take in and see everything that's happening at once. It is performance art and music and costumes and staging and unforgettable experience -- you'll see things you can't even believe you are seeing and that you will surely never see again. We missed Corteo when it came through -- last year, I think -- and I'm kicking myself. We'll never let one pass by us again and if we had the $$ we'd head down to NYC to see Wintuk.
And then there's 't.' Or, 'T.' Still ABC-Alonging, see?
In June, Dean and his friends spied this turtle laying her eggs out in front of our house, near the road. 'T' is for 'turtle,' and we've been watching and waiting all summer. 'T' is also for tomorrow, and that's when I'll tell you what we've recently discovered....

Overwhelmed

No matter how much you love him, there can be times, frankly, when supporting your child's interest in playing a sport can be a sacrifice. It takes up a decent amount of time and money every week to get him to and from practices, to keep him in gear that fits, to keep said gear clean between games. It can be miserable to be out there for a game -- when it's hot, when it's cold, when it's wet (although you always feel more for your child than for yourself with having to play in difficult conditions). Saturday, however, was not one of those times. Not in the least. I kept saying to Ken, who kept agreeing heartily, "there's absolutely no place on Earth I'd rather be right now than here, watching this game." People, the weather does not get any better than this. Sunny but perfectly and completely mild and comfortable. The boys played a great game; Dean played defense this week and had, if I do say so myself, some utterly brilliant throw-ins. Oh, sure, at the end of it we'd lost 5-6, but it was a heroic effort and really just being there was worth it.

I'll just say, too, that I love the impossibility of what the body does in sports, when you can catch it on film. If you look at Dean up there in the act of giving it all he's got to boot the ball, you'd think that momentum would carry him over, that he'd fall backwards after bringing his leg through the arc, but he didn't.
The force of delight did nearly knock him over when we got home after the game, however. More treasures from Gina! Our Mr. Torres there on the cover and my own Mr. 9. After a nice, hot shower Dean just set himself up with a cold drink and his stack of football news. Heaven. Sheer heaven. Our return envelope for Gina is in the works, with every expression we can imagine of undying gratitude.
But for this, we're still gasping for breath, groping for words. When this priceless treasure (no, I am not employing hyperbole here, not one bit) arrived in the mail we all three of us just stood looking at each other, then back down at the comic, then back up at each other. Greg Farshtey himself signed one of his own Bionicle comics for Dean, thanks to Max and Natalie who thought of Dean at the moment they had the chance to do this. PLUS pressed pennies, which Dean collects, and one even from California Adventure which will be a collector's item as it's being given the heave-ho (that is, the park -- California Adventure -- is being given the heave-ho -- NOT the pressed penny!). The magazine is going to be framed in special UV-protective glass and hung in a place of honor -- I'm thinking a small special shelf of Bionicle figures right beneath it would be appropriate -- our own shrine. Max and Natalie, we haven't figured out yet the words, the language we need to take us as far beyond "thank you" as we need to go, but we're working on it.
There were so many other wonders, wonderful things, about this weekend. My brother Tony and sister-in-law Carol went to Alaska last month and sent us a box of treats (tons of photos, baseball hats for me and Ken, a shirt plus lots o' loot for Dean including evidence of dragons) that arrived over the weekend. We had that perfect weather I spoke of earlier and we reveled in it. We even cleaned out the garden shed, and you can see through the windows again (a miracle!). I guess as a reflection of the jubulant mood, Ken broke out the blender to whip up a rare batch of margaritas -- which called for my bringing forth the very best in barware....

Heaven on a stick. Dipped in chocolate. Shared with a friend. Made possible by friends. Impossibly good friends. This is heaven, this life.

Compensation

Late yesterday afternoon, after work, as I looked through the kitchen cabinets in hope of finding some dinner inspiration, I helped myself to a coupla three hand fulls of Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Covered Pistachios. Oh, joy. There I was, eating dessert before dinner. And I thought, well, it's the smallest compensation for having to be an adult.

You know how it is when you're a kid, and you think adults just live the life of Riley -- eating what you want, when you want, staying up as late as you want, watching whatever movies -- or as much tv -- as you want, no one telling you to do your piano practice or clean your room or take out the garbage or anything else. Making the rules, doing it your own way.

But as adults we know the dirty trick that's played on us: you can't really eat what you want, when you want because first of all you know all this stuff about what's good for you, how much you should weigh, what your blood pressure is like, how well you do or don't digest certain foods, what kind of a mega headache you'd get if you did try having ice cream for dinner. Sure, I can go to bed whenever I want, as long as I'm up by 5 to take care of the dog and make the lunches and generally get things ready for work/school/camp or whatever else is in store for the day which inevitably includes spending more time doing things I have to do instead of things I want to do. In short, by growing up we find out that childhood is really what it's all about.
So I say seek your compensation where ye may. Give yourself a treat, without feeling guilty. Because you're the grown up, that's why. Because paying for insurance, getting routine dental care, doing laundry, cleaning up after the dog, and cooking dinner every night earns you the right to have some fun. And seriously, if you live near a Trader Joe's, look for the pistachios -- you won't be sorry.