Date Archives → July 2007

oh, by the way.

…And, by the way, there is Jared.

Jared is new to California — newer than us, actually. He was hired and moved out here about a week after Jameson and I arrived. He’s eaten dinner at our house since it’s been our house, and has kindly endured lack of furniture and lack of food because, hey, it’s still better than a hotel. Jared’s dad is a pastor, so we have a certain kinship. Jared and Ryan share the special kinship of geek-ness and love for the iPhone. Jameson loves him, too, and Ryan and I have fallen into the habit of handing Jameson off when we, say, would like to scour a used bookstore.

Tonight is a big night for Jared. Tonight his wife and his four boys (FOUR boys! Did you read that, Jude?) arrive out west. Since their stuff isn’t here quite yet, I’ve been rounding up every spare towel, sheet, and blanket I can find.

And, of course, getting busy in the kitchen. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve made something for someone? Naturally, I jumped on this opportunity to bless a new family with cookies for tonight’s late-arrival snack, and a coffecake for tomorrow’s empty-cupboard breakfast. My eagerness to help is not a sign of me forcing friendship on Andrea and her boys. Not at all. :)

Actually, my only disappointment with the family’s arrival is that it finally occurred to me last week that them moving to California doesn’t mean that instead of Jared eating dinner here, Jared and Andrea and four boys will eat dinner here. Sadly, they’ll probably eat in their own house. Most of the time. Sometimes, I hope they do us the honor of sitting out on our patio and chatting over food, while four boys find adventure and fun in our Secret Garden backyard.

morning glory

:: I’ve been tinkering outside for the last half hour, deciding that I really don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to gardens. I find I’m perfectly content to sit on the ground and pry bits of stray grass from between the bricks of the patio. I like tasks like that because they’re mindless, require no particular level of skill, and when you’re done, you’ve had fresh air, sunshine, and dirt on your fingers. I also like such tasks because they are the sorts of things Mom’s been assigning to me for two decades. I also like deadheading and cutting dead branches off of trees. These are other things Mom’s often delegated to me. But when it comes to really and truly gardening, I find that I’m clueless.

So.

I dug up another few plants and put them in the spot I deemed more appropriate, and have called it a day.

:: My kitchen window sill has been adorned by a trio of bud vases, a gift from one particular Lore, and these have been filled of late with morning glory blooms. Each morning I walk to the back corner of our yard and pluck three stems. And each night, the royal blue blossoms have faded into pink, and by morning, these have curled up and given way to fresh royal blue.

I love morning glories, regardless of whether they are viewed as friend or foe in a garden. (At our house, they were foe. Here, they appear to be friend.) I love morning glories because Nana lived at 16 Morning Glory, and I spent countless car rides waiting to see that road sign, and addressed numerous cards and notes to that house number. Morning Glory is a place of dear memories. Morning Glory still means a Papa with stubble sitting at the table, ready with a scratchy kiss and evening snacks of Oreos. It still means a silver-haired woman standing in the window, then coming out the door with a wave, a smile, and the biggest of hugs to greet us.

This August makes 10 years since I received such a hug. Ten years since sitting at the table, drinking Levittown water while her ice cold glass sweated into its paper napkin wrapping, watching her make a list for the day’s activities and food needs. Ten years since I showed her the photos of my first exploration of the world outside our borders. Ten years since she asked, “So, how’s your love life?”, and I laughed and said, “Nana, what love life? I’m only 16!”

Ten years since I traced the lines of her wrinkled face with my eyes — wrinkles she hated, but wrinkles I loved. Ten years since Jay Leno on the couch, since watching her dutifully “do” her nebulizer, since sharing the king size bed.

You’d think ten years would be long time for someone as young as me, and so I’m always surprised by how fresh the missing is. Surprised that I still will wake up from a dream crying, missing my Nana.

Huh.

Funny what memories and feeling three little blue flowers can hold.

the weekend.

[our sweet boy.]

We had a busy weekend.

Friday night we went out for burgers. Of course, you can’t just get a burger around here. You have get a BURGER. Like, would you like beef, chicken, tofu, or ahi tuna? Okay, would you like 1/3lb, 2/3 lb, or 1 lb? Great. And what are your 5 topping choices, out of these possible 20? And for a sauce — any of these 15, none of which are ketchup. What about a premium topping? Hmm? Oh, those are the ones that cost $1 each, on top of the 5 you’ve already chosen. Now, what kind of bun would you like? Wonderful! Now, moving on to our french fry options…

Ohmygoodness. Just give me a burger with pickles, ketchup, and mustard, and let’s be done!

We stumbled across a used bookstore that was having a storewide 50% off sale. Sweet. I found a couple of “Intro to the Orchestra” sorts of books, with CDs included. And a National Geographic pictorial history of the 20th century. And a book on immunizations that Ryan thought we should have. And a few very old, very sweet chapter books that I can’t wait to read. And stuff like that.

Poor Jameson. He can barely sit through Good Night Moon, and I’m already ready to have him sit through an entire CD of opera.

Moving on…

Saturday, we got out promptly and headed to San Francisco! I was dying to go and explore a little bit. From where we live, deep in the valley, we can see the awesome fog from the San Fransisco Bay billowing over the mountains that separate us — and those mysterious clouds have peaked my curiosity! Although Ryan and I went for a super-fast visit to the city last time we were here in California, we didn’t see much, and so I was ready.

First: the bridge.

Goodness, it was freezing! We knew enough to dress in pants and layers for a visit to San Fransisco, but being on the bridge was more than just cool — it was frigid! Of course, once we got a distance away, and I could see the cloud we’d been standing in, I understood why the arctic weather.

I’ve gotta say, that bridge deserves all the hype it gets. The view of the city, the tempestuous Bay, and of course, the ominous Alcatraz, and all covered in fog, is just about as dramatic as it gets.

As we headed for some shopping off of Castro St, we were delighted to discover that beneath all of that fog was a beautiful sunny day. What a funny city.

So, we strolled and had bagels and bought one of these (yes!), and, then had our fill of rainbow flags and the people who parade them, and headed to Union Square. We went here. Cool, nice store, helpful people, but not the hippest. You know. I was thinking something more like this.

We passed by a few “buskers” on the street (musicians), and although they were terrible, they found a rapt audience in Jameson. I have noticed a complete fascination with stringed instruments. He loves to play the piano, and I’m sure a drum set would intrigue him, but he stops dead in his tracks when Aunt Julia or Papa or Aunt Liana pull out an instrument with strings. So, we happened upon a violinist and a guitarist, and he loved them both. (Babies are so kind about overlooking severe lack of talent!) There will be pictures of that soon, but I’ll wait and let Ryan post them, since he already knows which are his favorite. :)

We ate dinner at a totally boring spot, but after walking and walking and not having a clue of where to go for some food, it worked. And then we drove back home, away from the cloud that hovers over the bay, away toward a moon just rising, with a serene reflection on the water… Breathless.

And then…

Sunday, after church, Ryan felt it quite necessary to drive to Gilroy, Garlic Capital of the World. This is where your garlic is most likely grown. It’s what Gilroy does. In fact, as you step out of your car and the breeze hits you, you will know without a doubt that you have reached Garlic City. The third weekend of July is when they hold their annual Garlic Festival, where you can try things like chocolate-garlic ice cream, or if you prefer something a bit more standard, garlic-chicken stir fry. The food is HOT with garlic, and yes, you can taste the garlic in the ice cream.

However, as novel as all of that sounds in a guidebook, it’s NOT WORTH IT! We drove in terrible traffic on a blazing hot Sunday afternoon for well over an hour, only to find ourselves in a vast, dusty field, still quite a hike from any festival. When we finally reached the tents, we found that there was food, and, well, that was it. It was just a huge fair with garlic stir fry instead of cotton candy. Hot, incredibly dusty, and dehydrated, we quickly purchased a garlicky lunch and headed back towards home.

I had to laugh at Ryan, who looked like he’d been riding a horse all day. His jeans were just covered in dusty dirt.

Are you still reading? If you are, my apologies. This is getting less and less inspired of a post. So.

Since all I can think about is making dinner, I’ll go attend to that. And I’ll leave you with these.

started.

It’s started.

The compulsion — indeed, the need — to scour every sale rack, stop at every glimpse of pink, and buy, buy, buy for the coming Princess. I mean, how can you not? After all, every princess needs new pink things to wear.

Also started:

Jameson’s sense of independence. I really don’t think it occurred to him before that he could be in a different room than me, and not only would that be okay, but that could possibly be fun. Liberating. A golden opportunity to do all of the things he’s wanted to.

Like, for how long has he eyed the toilet paper, watching me pull it, tear it, totally mesmerized by the process. I could see those little gears filing away this information for later — and now, later has come.

Last night we got home to a dark house. I flicked on the kitchen light, and he took off on his tummy. I didn’t think much of it — after all, the whole house was dark. How far would he possibly go? A few minutes later, I realized he wasn’t back, and he wasn’t in the dining room. No, he had crawled through the dark dining room, the dark living room, down the dark hallway, and had pushed open the bathroom door, where he was finally getting a chance to pull himself up with the aid of the toilet, and get his hands on that amazing toilet paper.

I had to laugh. Had he been dreaming about the toilet paper the whole evening? Was it really the first thing to pop into his little head when the van pulled into our driveway? It sure seems that way!

Oh, how much fun he is!

the conflict.

You know those perfect summer days when you are deeply conflicted because there are so many things you should do, but it’s so nice out, it just seems wrong to do anything other than be outside?

I now have that conflict every day.

*sigh*

Life is hard.

(Now, for those of you who really know me, you know that this really is hard, as I process such conflicts with a great deal of trouble.)

what’s happening.

What’s annoying: The neighbor’s yard crew showing up as you’re putting the baby to sleep — and deciding to begin by weed-whacking right under the window where his basket is.

What’s funny: Walking around the house thinking, “Man, these pants feel loose. I must be losing weight!”, only to look down and realize that your snap is undone.

What’s adorable: Jameson clapping his baby hands and cooing, “Yay!” every time I say, “Good job!”, “All done!”, or just anytime he thinks a celebration is due. Oh, and every time he plays the piano!

What’s challenging: This post on submission, and implications it has for being intentional and guarded in my speech.

What’s awesome: This post on how we speak about children. Mom is always good for a reminder that children are people, and our words have life and death in them — so don’t be flippant about your kids!

What’s interesting: Dr. Mohler gets me up to speed with happenings at the Vatican — and I say thank goodness for straight-shooting Benedict!

What’s yummy: Fresh peaches fried in butter with honey and cinnamon.

What’s beautiful: A California afternoon. Yup. It’s as nice as they say.