And So It Goes

I was surprised to see eggplants at the Farmer's Market on Saturday, surprised that it's suddenly turned August, that the academic summer is just about over, that we're at the very end of the string of days that seemed to stretch out to the horizon way back in June, that I'm looking back on two months full of doing and of blissful not-doing.

We had a parade of family through our place last week: my mom and my youngest sister spent the night with us on the way home from a soccer tournament near San Francisco, then my other sister was here helping her fiance move into what will be their first home (Em will be joining him here in January). I'm still not sure how it got to be Thursday evening.

Tomorrow we're off to the county fair where Hannah and a bunch of kids from her school will be performing fiddle tunes on the main stage. We'll look at animals, eat cotton candy and caramel apples and wave goodbye to summer from the very top of the ferris wheel.

Where We Were

Just about every time I've sat down to work on the blog this week, I've started out with "So...Where were we...?". It's summertime and I'm feeling scattered. John's teaching, the kids have a couple of hours of scheduled activities every week and I've got some commitments to keep--it's not that we have no schedule, it's that the schedule changes so frequently, I feel busy all the time and I want bedtime to be at 7:30 just like during the school year. 8 o'clock then. OK, OK 9. What are you kids still doing awake at 10:25? I can't quite bring myself to take off my watch and dive headfirst into summer, but it's clear it has swallowed us whole.So, where were we?

Much of the last 2 weeks has been unseasonably, record-settingly sunny and warm. Mid-70s at the coast (some 10 degrees above average for the season) and well into the 80s at our place barely inland. Acclimated as we are to very small variations in temperature (high-40s in the dead of winter, high-60s in the height of summer), this is sweltering. Especially when our power went out over the weekend and it was just too hot and sticky and stuffy to do anything but seek relief at the beach. Our bedrooms, without the fans we've usually got running on warm days, were unbearable even after nightfall so we camped out--to the children's immense delight--in our playroom downstairs.Every time we go to the beach, the kids act like tourists who have heard tell of a wonderland of waves and driftwood and seashells and crab carcasses and dead birds and sand but who did not believe that such a (sandy) paradise could truly exist. It's the most incredible, fun place they have ever been--even when we go twice in one week. These children of mine are easy to please. I'm grateful for the way they remind me to be open to the adventure and awe of it all.
Then they bicker all the way home from the beach, there's sand tracked all over the car and into the house, wet, sandy clothes need to be washed, I listen to the news on the radio while I make dinner: the mood can change so quickly.Thank goodness I took my camera. More on flickr, of course.

Headed To The Alps

About a year ago, I wrote about how much Jonah and I have enjoyed watching the Tour de France together on TV every year. We're doing it again this year, of course. Jonah asks to watch the race and he'll sit there, absorbed in what action there is, for a good half hour at a time. I'm not exactly sure what the appeal is for him--guys riding bikes day in and day out is really not all that exciting--but it delights me to no end that he's so into it (perhaps it's just that we watch so little sports on TV that he's desperate).

Part of the appeal for me is watching the countryside go by, especially when the race goes through parts of France that I know well. Tomorrow the riders pass within 2 miles or so of the last house my family lived in in France; I wish I could be there.

But then I wouldn't be here:

Just This Side Of Dizzy

Another busy couple of weeks around here. Not so busy that I feel like I'm hyperventilating, but enough that I'm left inarticulate by the end of the day.

While the kids are both at school, John and I have been packing up books and sorting piles of papers in his office, getting ready for the big move to the shiny new building. It turns out it wasn't ready to move into in May after all--surprise, surprise. Word on the street is that people start moving in next week. Not that I would actually know how close the offices are to being ready because I walked right into the building and took a look around despite signs posted on the unlocked doors telling me that the building's not yet open to the public.

Although I hate hate hate packing, it's been nice, really nice, hanging out with John for a couple hours everyday. We work well together, and we've got enough time that we aren't having to rush the job. We keep slowing down just to chat or to laugh over book titles or to read out loud years-old to-do lists one or the other of us wrote up. And anytime is a good time to take a coffee break.

The conundrum of what to do with all of the books (6 boxes so far, probably 3 more by the time we're through) that we need to bring home is vaguely stressful. Our house is full of books already. The living room has at least one bookcase on each wall, there's a bookcase in the playroom (kid's books), one in the dining room (cookbooks and food writing) and bookcases in the bedrooms. A colleague suggested putting a bookcase behind our couch, not knowing that our couch is already in front of a bookcase. Getting rid of piles of books--the obvious solution--is just not going to work. Neither of us can stand the idea of letting books go, even books we know we will never look at again. Besides, who would take the books we don't want? No one, that's who.

If John builds a new floor-to-ceiling bookcase in the living room and we juggle categories around (our books are sorted: poetry, fiction, nonfiction, reference, textbooks and ordered alphabetically by author's last name), we may be able to avoid having to cover up one of the windows. Anyone visiting here any time soon better brush up on alphabetizing skills. I'm just saying.

On Friday night John and I were invited by an artist acquaintance to a preview of her current show (with 2 other artists). For such a small, rural county, we've got a rather lively "art scene". There are a whole lot of local artists and plenty of galleries and giftshop/galleries and coffeeshop/galleries that take themselves very, very seriously. This show is at one of the few places that takes itself seriously and deserves to be taken seriously. So, we dressed up a little and we left the children--people kept asking us where they were--with the family I lived with while I was in college. In particular, we left them with the family's youngest daughter. She's in highschool now, and learning to drive and taller than I am, but I used to take her to preschool; leaving my kids with her was kind of surreal. I'd like to see someone try to paint a picture about that.

Human Powered

Memorial Day Weekend here in Humboldt County: we've got the same parades and speeches and flag-waving and gravestone scrubbing and super sales events as everywhere else, but we've also got the Kinetic Sculpture Race (due to legal shenanigans, it's the Kinetic Grand Championship or some such this year)--the Triathlon of the Art World. An event designed to let adults feel like they've never, not really ever, grown up. Or maybe it's that kids get to see adults having so much fun, they'll want to grow up.

Whatever it is, it's one of the county's most colorful, well-attended events. And a reminder, every single year, of how much I dislike crowds.

We got the Plaza at about 10 am; John likes to get a good look at all the engineering and this is the best time to ask the riders about their machines. Besides it's just the most exuberant, vibrant part of the race with everyone excited to get started, none of the racers yet wondering what in the world they were thinking would be fun about this, even the most seasoned participants feeling like it's going to be: Jonah was uncharacteristically freaked out by the sculptures at first, but warmed up after a while and by the time we left, was referring to them as Miracle Sculptures--which is an apt description, really. You can see pictures here and here and here of this year's contestants on pavement, sand and water.
The kids both loved this one--from engineering students at UC Davis--because of all the water noodles they used. I don't know how well it floated.
Some years we've gone to see them in the Bay in Eureka and at the finish line in Ferndale, but this year we just went to the Plaza and admired the details.By the time I saw Elvis (he's taken up cycling and is friends with the mayor of Arcata--who knew?), it was time to duck into a bookstore to take refuge from the crowds and head for home to spend the rest of the weekend with a new book.

I swear I didn't put him up to this

Tomorrow our local Farmer's Market returns (it's true that it was year-round this year, but the winter offerings--in the parking lot of the new Eureka Coop--were pretty slim, sometimes only carrots). We try to go every week,Mid-April through the end of November. Not just to score some terrific produce, but because it provides opportunities to see and catch up with just about everyone we know around here. Kind of like church. The live music is usually pretty good too. Also tomorrow, Brio opens their highly anticipated cafe right there on the Plaza.

Anyway, Jonah and I were talking about how we were going to get to go to the Framer's Market on Saturday and he said: "The farmers are the most important part of the Farmer's Market."

"Why's that?"

"Because they grow all the food!"

Speaking of food: brownies, kind of, over at thedishandthespoon. Go get some before they're all gone.

Back Home

So, I thought we would have wireless internet access at our little place in San Francisco, but we did not. That's my excuse for not blogging last week. As Jonah says: It's always something.

We had a very nice time in The City. A few months ago I found us a little studio apartment just a few blocks from where the conference John was attending was being held. It turned out to be just perfect. We had more space than we would have at a hotel and we saved money--as well as that rarest of commodities: sanity--by preparing most of our own meals at "home" (we stopped at Trader Joe's on the way into town and stocked up on all sorts of goodies we don't get up here which made eating in a little more exciting too).

The children and I kept travelogues (Hannah kept referring to hers as "my travel blog"). I intend to share those here over the next few days.

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We have been taking Hannah to the annual meeting of the Pacific Division of the American Philosophical Association since she was just 5 weeks old and every year when John registers and they make him his little name-badge thingy, they make Hannah one as well. This year when she was asked if she would like her own name-badge thingy Hannah responded very graciously: "No thank you, I'm going to be a veterinarian."

Spinning My Wheels

Whoa! Where did this week go?
Surely I've done something since last I posted?
I mean, besides laundry and reading a good, long book and cleaning up the house and taking care, taking care.

Let's see. The weather's been all over the place. We've had cold and rain and we've had pure blue sky and sunshine and short-sleeves, we've had blustery wind and we've had a plum tree in full bloom against a dull grey wintery sky.

I took the kids to the local park one of the sunny, blustery afternoons and had a park encounter of the vaguely perturbing kind. There's not much to it: no trauma, no one got hurt or anything. There was just no good reason for the only other parent at the park when we got there--a mother with 2 children clearly very close in age and much younger than my own--to villainize Jonah and shoot glares at me every chance she got. Though having kids and plain ol' growing up have lessened this tremendously, being judged is something I'm very sensitive to. Even when (especially when?) it's being judged based on nothing, there's still the nagging worry that she is absolutely right: I am not a good mother, my children are terrors, etc. I figured at the time that I would blog about this, about how preposterous this woman's naked judgement was, how her behavior fit so poorly with what I've come to expect from interactions with other parents. I found that the more I thought about it, though, the harder it was to shake the feelings of inadequacy. Instead, I've let it fade, let it help me become less harsh on myself, my parenting, my kids. We're all better off for that.

We keep a post office box at a tiny post office near here, the kind of place where all the postal workers greet everyone by name (and probably know all our business too). When I've got packages to mail (I just sold a bunch of the kids' clothes on eBay), I always take them there. On Wednesday, the friendliest postal worker (a man) remarked that I've been "shedding the pounds". Aw, what a nice thing to say. Not that it's entirely true, but I have been making an effort to get more sustained exercise. With a break while I was sick, I've been riding a bike on a stationary trainer a few times a week. I used to ride my bike a lot--at least 150 miles a week for quite a while--and I've been missing that lately, as well as missing being in great shape. Sure, riding inside, not going anywhere is not quite the same, but I bought the first 2 seasons of Grey's Anatomy (which I have taken to calling "my anti-bacterial soap opera") and I watch an episode while I cycle. I want to work my endurance up to the point where I wouldn't feel like a fool joining one of the spinning classes at the gym.

That's that then. John's on Spring Break next week. With grading to do. But we are working on a big project this weekend. If all goes well, I'll tell about that tomorrow.

Walk To Paradise Garden, 2007

Watch out W. Eugene Smith. There are a couple of new kids walking in the woods, a parent following close behind with a camera. More over on flickr.

This, That and the Next Thing

OK, first of all: State of the Union Address last night. I listened to it while I was waiting for John to get home from a late meeting and I don't know about you, but I did not hear those World Peace Cookies mentioned even one single time. If anything is sure to draw applause from both sides of the aisle, it's the best chocolate cookies ever as agents for change.

The wedding and the trip up North were much nicer than I had anticipated. Before we left, I had been hoping that we would get a call telling us the whole thing had been called off, or at least delayed. Not that I didn't want the wedding to happen, just wanted it to happen at a time more convenient to me so that I wouldn't have to pack up the car and drive all the way up there (OK, John does 99% of the driving, but I still have to be in the car), try to keep my kids out from under everybody's feet, deal with the various stresses of a family gathering and then turn around and come right home and jump into a busy week.

Not to say I'm itching to do it again any time soon, but it turned out to be a rather delightful time. The trip up was without incident of any kind (remind me to tell you sometime about how much I love my new car). Most of the adults were well-behaved, just a touch of control-freaking here and there, but this was certainly one of those times when a control freak is exactly what's needed. Jonah looked like a very handsome midget in his tuxedo--although, for $100 to rent the thing for 2 days, I'd have expected it to come with a couple of tranquilizer darts. The wedding ceremony was short and sweet and my brother was truly thankful that we had come. The reception was small and simple and everyone (besides, possibly, most of the bride's family--I don't know what was up with them, maybe they need some chocolate cookies) had a good time. The kids were in bed and asleep by 8:30. The drive home the next day was long. We were slow to get out of town (we stopped to catch part of my youngest sister's soccer game then John wanted to have lunch at Ikea) and we didn't get home until well past my bedtime so Monday was a little bit hard on all of us. But the laundry's all done now and put away and January is nearly over.





More pictures you say?Hannah getting ready. I think her favorite part of the whole thing was when she walked into the room at the church where the bride and bridesmaids were getting ready and they all said "Oh Hannah, you look so beautiful!" at the same time.
The bridesmaids cracking up because the minister's boutonniere kept flopping around. Two of those women are my gorgeous sisters, one my sister-in-law.
Jonah's favorite part was taking picture after picture of his Aunt Jessica (married to my brother, Jesse--it was bound to happen) with a disposable camera because she "looks like a princess and she has a Batman tattoo".

Finally: we way overpaid our taxes last year (I give the government an interest-free loan and they can't be bothered to try some cookies--sheesh!) and I am probably getting a spiffy new camera next week.

Winter White

Sorry for the long absence. It's too easy for me to stop writing here at all if I give it up for even a few days.

We have been away, for Christmas with my family in Seattle. We have been home having nice, long restful days, getting things done (in particular a new bookcase in the playroom, thanks John!) and being lazy. We are about to be away once again, for my brother's wedding in Seattle.

Whatever happened to June weddings?

Happy Birthday--Me Too

This is strange and this has never happened to me before.
I have gone 3 places today--my birthday.
At all 3 places, a group of people sang Happy Birthday to someone--but not to me.

I stopped at Wildberries for a chai on my way home from picking Jonah up at school. A group from Dell Arte was performing. As they were leaving, one of the store clerks pulled them over to the deli counter to sing for one of the cooks.

John and I went out to dinner at Tomo. A young woman a couple of tables away was celebrating her birthday with her family. Her waitress brought her a bowl of ice cream with a candle in it and everyone around joined in singing.

After dinner, we walked over to BonBoniere to get some ice cream to bring home for later. A fairly large group of people sitting inside suddenly burst into song.

What shall we make of this?

Off to Join the Circus

Real quick-like before I fall asleep over here. Tonight Hannah and her best friend got to go see the Moscow Circus perform (H: Have they already set up the tent? How many animals will there be? N: Uh....This is a circus inside a theater. No animals. But clowns and acrobats! H: I hope the clowns throw pies at each other.).
I found the circus to be not so hokey as others I have seen (not many, but some of them just terrible). Hannah enjoyed it very, very much. It was so much fun just sitting next to her as she clapped and gasped Awesome! and Cool! and laughed at the clowns. During the acrobatic routines, she watched very intently and as play-by-play would say either "I can do that" or "I can't do that" or "I could do that if I practiced". I'd have to say, that was my favorite part. I love when she is so confident and sure of herself while still being very aware of her limitations--it's one of things about her that I think is just perfect.

As we were leaving the theater, she turned to me and said: "I know what I can be when I grow up! I can be a circus veterinarian! That way I can take care of animals and be an acrobat."