This week in Thankfulness

Today I'm grateful for ...

... passionate children, even when their passions cause extra work for the parents.
... creative play for all ages.
... teachers who want to challenge our kids.
... silly poetry (especially when it inspires more silly poetry.)
... guacamole and chimmichurri sauce. I'm a little obsessed right now.
... the purplish leaves in our front yard.
... a college education that prepared me to parent through the tough times. (How many folks can say that one?)
... new running shoes.
... little girls who like to run with me.

Yuppie Babies Drive to IKEA

I'm raising a yuppie child. I'm not doing it on purpose, I promise. Even admitting it here feels like maybe I belong in the basement of the Unitarian church in an obscure 12-step meeting. Sometimes I wonder whether I should try to correct course but most of the time I'm just fine with it. There are worse fates than yuppie, right?

I suppose we don't help matters when we read her things like Foodie Babies Wear Bibs. There's a whole series of them, each rather delicious. I giggle with delight and put them under her nose and frankly, she doesn't stand a chance.

Here are a few sentences I heard from her yesterday - words that would have been completely foreign in my own (distinctly non-yuppie, even though the word hadn't been invented yet) childhood.

"I'm going to IKEA. I have a GPS so I don't need directions. The GPS will tell the car where to go." And while she's driving she'll most likely listen to NPR. Yep, that's my kid.

This week in Thankfulness

I'm grateful today ...

... for the spunky cardinal at the bird feeder and the others looking down from the tree.
... for cloud watching with Puddin' and rolling in the grass.
... for new-to-us books from the library.
... for smiling, happy Peanut running off to school.
... for crisp, tangy apples and the chance to go pick more soon.
... for leaf printing with Monkey.
... for frequent potty successes.

Weather Vane or Whether Vain

When the weather turns I feel the need to re-assess my direction. I amp up my exercise, change my eating habits, and nurture my hobbies. Its a lovely time of revitalization, 4 times a year. I wish it didn't need to happen so often but it's certainly fun while I'm in the midst of it.

As fall approaches, I'm doing all these things again - which is no surprise. What seems surprising is that it feels comfortable. I'm not facing the internal resistance to change that I usually do. Maybe this time some of the changes will actually stick, but I'm trying not to count my frogs before they leap.

What the frog is she talking about?

The blues are like spirituals, almost sacred. When we sing blues, we’re singing out our hearts, we’re singing out our feelings. Maybe we’re hurt and just can’t answer back, then we sing or maybe even hum the blues. When I sing ... what I’m doing is letting my soul out. - Alberta Hunter, American blues singer 

Alberta Hunter had a storied life that gave an extra boost to her already powerful voice. I'll never sing like that but I hope that when I'm 80 I can look that joyful. In my harried days, joy is sometimes covered in blue shadows.

It's been a rough week here, getting the 5 of us used to a new life routine. School has started, meetings are up and running again, lessons and classes too. As much as I love this time of year, the uncertainty about how it all works together has given me some sleepless nights. In my sleepy angst, I turn to music.

I can get through my happy times without music, although I much prefer a soundtrack whenever possible. I can't get through my tough times without music, though. My soul feeds on music as my lungs feed on air. Sometimes it's the songs Puddin' makes up to explain her day, other times it's great jazz from our local station. On the really blue days, the most soothing music is home made (but rarely the blues.)

This week someone gave me an electric bass. Bassists are often brooding types. The ones I've known are quietly passionate. They set mood and tone for music without much overt play for attention. Something about that role calls out to me. My soul - bruised yet hopeful - can't wait to come out and play.

Chimney Rock

School starts tomorrow so I should probably finish all the summer stories soon. I'm sure there will be much more to talk about in the coming weeks. I know for sure that there will be more time to myself for putting coherent thoughts together. God bless our public school system.

As part of our big summer road-trip we stopped at Chimney Rock in North Carolina. After a few hours of driving (and what had been nearly a week of driving for Stan and me) it was great to get out and move. I'm a huge fan of hiking even though I don't do it often and have turned into a wimp. I often long for mountains and go into a funk if I don't get my fix a few times a year. Chimney Rock isn't quite hiking, though. This was climbing stairs—lots of them—crowded with most of the office building during a full elevator outage. We had breezes and plenty of beautiful scenery, and a toddler to carry—did I mention this was hard work?

Monkey & Peanut started off the hike a little leery but it didn't take them long to realize that this was going to be worth the effort. Here's a picture of them at the first overlook. (Aren't they gorgeous? It's hard for me to even see the background.)

We hiked on and came to Chimney Rock itself. You can see from the first picture what it looks like. I thought a little too much about the fact that there were 25–50 people standing on a rock jutting out from the side of a mountain so I sat mostly still in the very center of the space. I managed to keep my mouth shut and not ruin the fun for the rest of the fam, which I consider a victory. I did manage to shut down my fear long enough to participate in pictures. In the solo picture, Stan is looking up at the next part of our hike. He looks a little wistful, I think.

Monkey took the picture of Stan and me together. I've got hat hair and we're both squinting. I almost didn't include it but we look happy and that makes it a pretty real representation. To make up for the scruffy parents, take a look at those fabulous girls! Monkey, looking off in the distance, distracted by some beautiful sight. Peanut, looking straight at the camera ready to start up a dialog. Puddin' just delighted to be part of it all. We have a bad history with Christmas cards (I don't think we've managed to get them out once since we've been married) but I'm tempted to get some printed up with this picture. I still won't manage to get them in the mail, though, so they would turn into bookmarks and toddler projects. Instead, I'll just post it here for friends and family (and a few random strangers—hi!) to see. In a few months—when you're counting your holiday cards—please remember this and count us in. Hope your holidays are full of joy. Happy New Year!

We continued up to the next part of the hike and were able to look down on what we had accomplished. That's one of the things that I enjoy about hiking: There are plenty of tangible rewards on the way up, with scenery and endorphins, but there's also instant feedback when you get to the top. Look what I just overcame!

A very nice mother/daughter team took some family pictures for us. The best of the bunch is down near the bottom of the post. Puddin' did not want to smile for the strange lady.

After our climb down [please don't run. watch out for the people climbing up. no trampling, please. remember how hard it was to climb up? so don't run over the climbers.] we took in the waterfall down towards the bottom. There hadn't been too much rain so it was a gentle fall. The great thing about gentle is that without too much flow, it was safe for folks to climb in. Stan took Monkey & Peanut in to go traipsing about in the water while Puddin' and I stayed on dry bridge. I had a great shot lined up with Stan's hand in the falls but a tattooed arm got in the frame and then the camera battery died. The other battery was in Stan's pocket. They splashed and explored, even though the camera wasn't there to record it. It was all going wonderfully until Peanut slipped on a slimy rock and got wet up to her belly button. She squished for some of the rest of the day but we didn't have anywhere nice we needed to go.

From there we went to find some dinner and then off to our hotel. The next day it was back in the van for more road-trip.

Date? with no kids?

Stan and I took some time during our recent road trip for an overnight date - 36 hours without any children! We toured Stan's old school, ate like college students and then glammed up for a night out. Here's a little photo tour of some of the highlights.

We headed for town after breakfast and went immediately to lunch. Cheese steaks at one of Stan's old haunts. Cheese steaks are not on the diet but they were immensely tasty and well worth the momentary guilt. The guilt was quickly drowned out by Stan anyway, as he told me stories of his college life.

Next on the list was an official college tour - the kind the admissions office puts together for perspective freshmen. I'm happy to report that I was NOT mistaken for a high schooler.

It was 100˚ that day and we walked 'round campus for 90 minutes that afternoon. We left puddles in our wake. We both enjoyed the time on campus but we were grateful to head off to the hotel and wash away the hobo looks we had acquired.

There are no pictures of us dressed up. I forgot to pack a purse to match and the camera didn't fit in Stan's pocket. Quite a shame, really, because we don't manage to look that nice very often. We ate at an unassuming little place called Terra Terrior, which I found from the most recent Wine Spectator Grand Award winners. The food was excellent - chipotle shrimp & grits, grilled halibut in shallot sauce, and a creamy, frothy, meringue-y key lime pie.

We headed back to the hotel and this ...

was the view out our room window. During the day the view showed the beautiful hotel gardens but there's still enough city gal left in me that this is the picture that felt luxurious.

The next morning we walked over to a nearby Corner Bakery and had scrumptious eggs, coffee and toast. I've been to a few shops from this chain and never considered it much to sing about but this one could be the poster-shop for the brand. The staff was wonderful, called us darlin' and the like - and we even got hugs to go with our breakfast. How often do you get hugs from the staff when you're out for breakfast? And how did this wonderful woman (who's name I didn't catch) manage to make it a blessing rather than creepy?

We spent the rest of the morning at the pool. I am happy when submerged in water.

From there we drove about town looking at all sorts of other locations that Stan had known in his college years. Since I didn't know him then it was fun to see something concrete to go with the stories, and to get a glimpse into that time in his life. By walking in Stan's footsteps I can somehow be a part of those years, even from a distance of many years. I'm looking forward to our next nostalgic road trip.