Citizen Beta

I have not been here all summer but take my word for it I have been busy.

Every summer I say I won’t teach more than two classes but I ended up with three this summer plus I agreed to give the  two opening lectures in a series to celebrate a local synagogue’s 90th anniversary.  I gave the second one last night and while I really enjoy that sort of thing it is a huge relief to be done.  The first topic required a lot of research and energy and time…

I have not done much writing or reviewing lately though I have done some of that.  But, I guess my heart hasn’t been in it.  In fact I had an article sent back to me because it was a bit on the sloppy side but it is all fixed and ready to go now.  Ugh.

I did manage a fantastic trip to Washington DC and Virginia with my kids, my mom and my sister.  We survived the heat wave and had a lovely time.  The time on the plane was perfect for reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and The Girl who Played with Fire.  I read the third book as soon as I got home.  I have also spent a ton of time this summer reading the “Song of Ice and Fire” series, or whatever it’s called.  It is not a genre I usually read but has been super fun and entertaining.

As for other summer rituals I have only managed one camping trip, one baseball game and about 5 days of swimming; I have just been too busy for most fun.

And, that busy-ness is jacking up some of my plans…or should I say is contributing to the jacking up of my plans.  See, when I finished my masters degree I wanted to go on for my PhD.  But, for a number of reasons (including huge student loans and a partner who was getting a tad weary of my utter lack of financial contributions to our mortgage, etc) I decided to put it off.  Well, in the almost decade since finishing that degree I have work in a cushy non-profit job in a big city, moved to a smaller city and spent about 8 years as an adjunct prof at a community college and worked on a side as a freelance writer and teaching things here and there.  I also had two kids.  In the past couple years the desire to go back to school has re-surfaced.  But, it is so damn complicated.  I cannot move to find the “right” program and the university here doesn’t offer a PhD in my field.  But, there is a related field that I am very interested in and so I decided to do that.  It was that or write a book…but it seems that both options require time and energy I just don’t have…so they twist up into unfulfilled wishes in my gut.

In the past few months I decided to apply to the PhD program for next year and try to get funding.  Funding is key.  I announced this to many friends and family, hashed it out with that still weary partner, etc.  I signed up for a Spanish class to begin to work on the language I know I will need.  But, then it hit me like a ton of soul-crushing bricks.  This is at least five years I am talking about, maybe eight.  Even if I get funded, it may not be for the whole time and I would be scrambling for money the whole time.  It may not be fun.  It may put a lot of pressure on my family members to be ever-patient, ever-supportive and picking up my domestic slack.  In the end, I would essentially have my same job but just with a slight pay raise.  My advisors could be assholes…my classmates could be assholes.  I mean, it could be like the third best thing I’ve ever done and I could get a tenured position and publish all kinds of good stuff and be the favorite prof of all undergrads…or not. 

My reasons for going back are really two: I love school!  I like the challenges, the research, the learning and debating.  I like the work and the rewards of school.  And, second, I have always wanted the title, DR. Citizenbeta…this is very personal and has lots and lots to do with my family background and personal background but it is true.  I want that proof of success.

The flip side to all this is that things are good now!  Very soon both my kids will be in school full time and I can teach more (which I really do like to do) and also have an eye out for other opportunities.  I can write more—not just book reviews and little articles (which I like to do as well) but more large and creative projects.  Short stories….I am a good teacher, a good lecturer and because of that get asked to do some interesting things around town.  I could do more of that.  I could, instead of spending hours in the library (love love love) while my kids are in school, get some excercise (need  need need)…Am I talking myself out of this whole thing?  It will always be there I guess but maybe the time is all wrong.  I just don’t know.

Today though is starting with errands but ending with an art party with me, my aunt, cousin and my kids…just making and creating and being silly.  This weekend we’ll see friends and also participate in the annual chicken coop tour (every year I look forward to the crowds of people coming to say how lovely our hens are and how thriving our garden).  This weekend I have grading to do, a review to write, a good book on the side table to enjoy.  I have a half knit sweater that needs attention…and it feels like more than enough to make me feel like a success.  Really.     

Though the weather here is still quite warm we are starting to do more indoor, crafty type things around the house.  Also, we are eating a lot of butternut squash.  A favorite cold-weather past time here is homemade dough.  And,  today I started to learn to knit!  What do you turn to when the weather turns cool?

click images to enlarge

Excuse me while I get all mommy here but four days three nights is the longest I have ever been away from my oldest kid. This Friday she got pulled out of school early and whisked away to the airport with her backpack full of books (two very short ones, one non-fiction about dinosaurs, a couple chapter books and a set of very teeny tiny books in a little box), pens and paper for tic-tac-toe, the stuffed t-rex she sleeps with, snacks and who knows what else…She and her dad were Iowa bound. They spent Saturday at the lake where my sister-in-law and her family live. I received a grainy photo by email of her on a raft, sandwiched between her cousins, being towed by a speed boat. But yesterday the father-daughter duo began the long drive home in the new used car. We bought my sister-in-law’s old car and now it is somewhere in Kansas, on its way home carrying half my family. They called from a motel last night and sounded tired and delirious.

Four days three nights is the longest I have spent uninterrupted with my youngest kid. We were both getting over a cold so after dropping our kin off at the airport we headed to the library for a stack of new books and a video. After reading and viewing A was still out of sorts so we stopped by a friends house to visit, play and see some just hatched chicks. Saturday was spent with my mom, aunt and cousin. A potato filled lunch at the neighborhood pub got us ready for a stop at the dollar store (a dangerous place with a 2.5 year old), the pet store to oogle the animals and buy some baby crickets to feed the spinach frog and finally a trip to the antique/junk shop/indoor flea market where we all found treasures. I came away with some cool kids books. My cousin brought over a stack of vampire books and the first season of Trueblood on DVD so I could indulge my inner teenager while alone.

Yesterday was another lunch date with my mom and a trip to the botanic gardens but a plumbing emergency made me anxious and we hurried home to await the plumber. Today I need to wash the towels that mopped up the mess. I have no real plans today, my last with A. Some housework perhaps, a trip to the park, a walk with the dog…whatever we want really. I can feel D and L getting closer and they will be here soon; road-weary and grumpy, happy to kick their shoes off and fall onto the couch. And the house will be noisier and messier and the girls will compete for attention and I will make a dinner that will fall short of expectations…in other words, all will be back to normal.

This weekend will linger though, become a memory and I will wish I had taken more pictures. While they watched roadside America whiz by we played at home—nothing out of the ordinary at this end. Except time that is. Time for me to adore my baby with no jealous big-sister eyes watching. Time to miss my big girl knowing that someday four days and three nights away won’t be very much time away at all.

A couple times in recent years I have entered writing contests.  A few were for one of our weekly alternative papers and a few were hosted by blogs I like.  Earlier this month was a contest at Try Harder and guess what?  I won, that’s what!  The challenge was to take a certain line and write a story, or take a picture, or write a comic or whatever, with that line as the starting point.  As you’ll see I took a literalist approach.

Anyhoo, I am stoked to have won and so thanks to Carrie, a friendly commentor around these parts, for letting me play.

Police End Funereal Striptease Act

…to Silver City.

..between a frumpy sweater and skinny jeans…

I need a couple new shirts or sweaters for this winter and just like every time I think about getting new clothes I have trouble finding a store that has affordable, quality, stylish, age appropriate clothes for me. I am willing to spend a bit more to get some good stuff that will last but everything seems either way too young (skinny jeans) or way to old (frumpy sweater). Ack. I went to urban outfitters today to look for something and I guess I have aged and widened considerably since the last time I shopped there (Seattle circa 2000) because even though there was lots of cute stuff there was no way in hell I was paying $98.00 for a shapeless sweater with horizontal (egads!) stripes. It just wasn’t as cool as I remembered it. Where is a thirty-something, slightly zaftig mother of two, who wants to look her age but not like she has given up entirely to shop? Where oh where? And don’t say Chico’s.

…between a baby and a kid…

A is going to be 21 months old next week; closer to two than one and in the next few months I think we are all in for some big changes. Like her older sister she is a late-ish talker. She has lots of words but no sentences and her speech isn’t all to clear yet. She still nurses a lot and I would like to cut back on that just a tad. I would like, also, to start working on getting her into her own room with L at night. But, all this is probably going to involve a tear or two and I just don’t have the energy to deal with it right now.

The chickens, too, are growing up. Our rooster is quite, well, cocky these days, “mounting” the hens, practicing the disturbing act of chicken sex. He crows all day, his comb bright red. The girls are not quite ready to lay eggs yet but I am watching for signs (not sure even what those signs are). The are not novel anymore, just a natural part of our backyard, but they are still fascinating.

…between summer and winter…

Ah, fall in the American southwest. It is 40 degrees when you wake up but over 75 by the afternoon. Fickle fickle. I stay in (frumpy) sweaters all day. I love long sleeves, long pants, high stripy socks. I can’t wait to get my scarves out. But, I like being warm. Today A and I sat out in the glider, long-sleeved, she bare-footed, and got nice and toasty in the sun. It felt hot, but it was breezy and the sun was bright but lacking the intensity it has in the summer. The air feels thinner and the leaves on our big mulberry are lightening up, while still vibrant green. Evidence of summer remains: the tomatoes still reddening in the garden, pumpkins still growing on the vine. The peppers that are finally growing and L’s petunia’s making a spectacular last burst of color and petals. We have packets of seeds (winter greens) and bags of soil, ready to plant the winter garden and a teeny tiny spinach plant already started. The girls’ drawers are full of short-sleeve t-shirts and cardigans, long pants to extend the life of summer dresses. The hats that are now in the dress up box will be necessities sooner than we think. It is hard on days like these to imagine blustery winter days or summer scorchers.

…between good books and bad…

Well, that is the way it goes.

I am reading: Rethinking Jewish Latin America

Earth in the Balance

I have read:  Vanilla Bright Like Eminem

20th Century Ghosts

I have reviewed: Hurry Down Sunshine

What Happened to Anna K.

So, what is your autumn like (and where did you get that really nice sweater?)

I have been thinking about food a lot lately. Not just because I like to eat, which I do, but because over the past couple years I have become concerned with the kind of food I eat and where it comes from. Don’t worry, I am not going to preach at ya! This is just to say that I have read two books lately that have really given me a lot to think about and confirmed for me what I have been thinking all along.

First I read Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. I loved that this book was really a collaboration with her whole family. I loved that she spoke so wistfully about asparagus. I love that she included yummy recipes and the truth about slaughtering your own animals and the difficulties of eating healthy in America. Next I read Michael Pollan’s latest In Defense of Food. Now, I think I would’ve preferred to read this one first because Kingsolver’s book seems to be, in many ways, Pollan’s ideas in practice. But, it was still a really thought-provoking read. I didn’t like it as much as the two other books (The Omnivore’s Dilemma and Botany of Desire) I have read by him but it was short and to the point and packed with good and useful and interesting information about how Americans eat and how we can, quite easily really, eat better.

Related to all of this was our decision to get chickens and to finally join our CSA (community supported agriculture). The chickens are about good, fresh, organic eggs and also raising animals that, unlike dogs and cats, we cannot cuddle with but we still benefit from. We give then a good, peaceful life in our yard and they give us eggs and poop for the garden. Our five chicks have grown so big in the past few weeks and as of last night live outside (still in the brooder but out of the garage!). I am growing suspicious however, that one, if not two, are roosters. One rooster we can deal with. Two? Nope. The girls are already invested in the chickens, too. They like to check on them, watch them and feed them. It is a family project I am really proud of and I know we will learn a lot. I have read a bunch of chicken books and am addicted to this website and forum.

When we planted our garden this year we put in fewer tomato plants (I’m not a huge fan) and more pepper plants (yum!). We also put in broccoli which we eat a lot of, but too late and so it is not doing anything. I also planted two kinds of beans because they are good to eat and fun to pick and easy to grow. We tried to simplify the garden and really think about what we will actually eat. Both my mom and D’s parents have huge productive gardens every year so we end up with spinach and squash and cucumbers and things we don’t grow ourselves. We also end up with lots of local peaches. To complete our own garden we have lots of herbs, which we use faster than they grow: oregano, thyme, basil and rosemary. And, I cannot forget the silverskin garlic I have growing on the kitchen windowsill.

In an effort to reduce what I get at the grocery and compliment the healthy foods I am growing myself I join the local CSA on a four week trial basis. I opted to get the box every other week to start out with: I am not much of a cook so need to get up to speed with some new recipes and make sure that we eat the food fast enough (although chickens love scraps!). This week we got: 2 mangoes, 3 avocados, head of bibb lettuce, bunch of arugala, blueberries, strawberries, 4 yellow onions, green beans, broccoli, two cucumbers…am I forgetting anything? It was a lot of food! Of course not all of this was local but some was and all of it was regional (although our food region is pretty large because we live in the blasted desert). All was organic. Next, I had to cook.

Tuesday night I was suffering from a cold and it was a million degrees and our swamp cooler was broken so I wanted something cool to eat. I made cucumber soup which I liked and A ate. D ate but didn’t really like and L wouldn’t even touch it. I also made this green bean dip from the Kingsolver books which I thought was super yummy and again, A liked and D ate but didn’t like and A pretty much went hungry that night. Last night I made some pasta with veggies from the box (green beans and broc) and herbs from the garden. I also grilled the trout that L and I caught at her preschool summer camp fishing trip yesterday. We had a big salad with the lettuce, arugala and avocado. Besides the pasta in the pasta salad all was (essentially) local, all was fresh and organic. Nothing besides the pasta was processed. It was delicious and comforting and just the type of meal I am aiming for.

I am not sure what we will have for dinner tonight…maybe leftovers, maybe even a big box of processed mac and cheese. I am just happy to be on a path of mindful eating and happy to have chicks to feed and plants to tend and books (books!!) about chickens and gardens and food to keep my busy on these long light summer nights.

Anyone want to share a favorite heat-of-the-summer recipe? It is close to 100 every day here lately and we need some refreshing new dishes to try!

When L was littler I longed for the days she was old enough to just hang out with me at art museums and cafes and such. Those days are here and she is a great and thoughtful and fun companion on all sorts of adventures. But, now we are, honestly, slowed down by A who is not yet 2 years old. This week, however, L had no school and I had only my online class to teach (my other summer course doesn’t start until June) and so yesterday with A watched over by the babysitter, L and I headed out.

First to the art museum. We went through pretty fast but mostly because all but one of the exhibits were there the last time we visited. It was a nice quiet way to start our day. Especially because our next stop had the potential for chaos. At her recent dentist appointment, L had no cavities and so got choice of gift certificate. The one she picked was to an indoor “jumpy place.” Now, there are three things that L really truly loves. In order they are: dinosaurs, astronomy and jumpy things. By jumpy things I mean those big inflatable rooms people rent out for festivals or street fairs or other events when be-socked children jump and slide inside until either they are dragged out by their ankles against their will or sustain a minor head injury. Turns out there is a huge indoor jumpy place in town…who knew?

We were the only ones there. This place was a dressed up warehouse with 7 or so gigantic inflatable deals. None had been inflated outside and so they were all pretty clean. In fact the whole place was so clean I am pretty sure we were the first visitors ever. Her certificate gave her unlimited jumping time but she only lasted 40 minutes before she got hungry and tired. It was a great (free!) experience. Parents are allowed to jump, slide, etc along with their kids so I did even though that sort of thing makes me feel like a total goon even when no one can see me. I didn’t like how loud it was, however: each jumpy thing had its own little fan and generator and there was really loud early 80’s tunes blasting (including, and I am so not kidding, “Jump” by Van Halen. “Listen,” I told L, “They say we might as well jump!”).

Then we were off to a favorite diner for lunch. French fries and milk and a chocolate sundae and she was a happy, happy kid. And I was a pretty happy kid, too.

What teeny adventures have found you lately?

In the 1970’s and early 80’s I lived in New York (Long Island) and summers were spent at the beach. My mom and her friends were all hospital nurses mostly working the 3-11 shift. They were all pretty young and all a bit rough around the edges. A lot of them were single moms. One summer a few got tattoos. Butterflies mostly, if I remember right. I was enthralled by the tattoos and wanted one so bad. I remember my mom saying when you are 18 you can get a tattoo. I waited until I was 17 (my mom waited until she was in her late forties or early 50’s to get one).

When I was 17, or maybe just 18, my friends and I drove about 4 hours south to Las Cruces to see a punk rock show. I cannot remember where we slept but I got a tattoo from a rocker kid younger than me. He lived in a small apartment with a friend and his cousin who had escaped from juvenile detention. The tattoo, a four-strand braid with a Hebrew word in the center, was meant to go all the way around my upper arm but when it got close to the soft skin close to my arm pit it just hurt too much and I stopped. There is a picture of me during the process with a wince on my face flipping off the camera. Later that night we went to the show which was at one of those self-storage facilities. The bands played in one of the storage garages and we all listened from the dirt around them or sitting on top of cars. I realized pretty quick that my tattoo was crap.

A friend of mine was learning tattooing and my next four tattoos he did for either very little money or for lunch. They are not horrible prison quality tattoos but they don’t really look professional. And, they are not small. Design wise they are all over the map: a Celtic dragon, a Hopi rain bird, a moon-goddess (or, as L thinks, a woman jumping rope), and a abstract flowy bunch of lines and bubbles all around the original braided band.

When I first was getting these tattoos Nirvana with its anarchy cheerleader video had not quite hit big. Tattoos were not quite mainstream but were soon to be. I found myself, many years later, just another tattooed twenty-something with Betty Page bangs in Seattle. That plus the fact I had started working and teaching in the Jewish community put the kibosh on more tattoos. I simply felt all tattooed out.

Fast forward a few more years (okay, more than a few years) and I am a mother of two who, while not quite a soccer mom, has definitely lost any edge I once had—at least externally. Ever since A was born I started thinking about tattoos seriously again. My old friend was now a pro but not working in town right now. I started asking around about tattoo artists. I started paying attention to tattoos. Whenever I saw a woman with a big visible tattoo I was jealous. It is not that I wanted to recapture my young adulthood (it was fun and all but things are just better now) or a hipness that I never had anyway. It is hard to explain but I felt like I needed to mark this moment in my life in a very physical way and permanent way. I am closer to 40 than 30, my family is complete, I am in the career field I plan to always work in and in the end saw no reason not to get another tattoo. Anyway, I just think they are cool. A friend of mine said he never got one because he couldn’t decide on a design symbolic enough of his personal or cultural identity. But, for me it is an art form and I don’t think a tattoo necessarily has to have some deeper significant meaning. Most of mine surely don’t.

Next year I am planning on getting another one that does have some real deep meaning for me because in just a few months I will be older than my father was when he died. Truth be told he was a religious Jew and would’ve hated all these tattoos so I hesitate to say what I get will be a tribute to him; I just feel the need to mark that milestone somehow and this is the way I am choosing to do so.

All this to say that about a month I ago I went to a tattoo shop and got four stars on my forearm. They are nickel-sized, in black outline only (I reserve the right to add color or more to it later) starting about an inch up from my wrist and ending about halfway to my elbow. The number four is significant but the stars, not so much: I chose them because they are a traditional tattoo design. So far the cold weather has kept them mostly under wraps and they will gradually be revealed as the spring warms up.

I am already used to these little stars and have no regrets. Because they are on the top-side of my arm (not the soft underside) where the skin is tougher and drier they look a bit tough and dry (I imagine if I had gotten them when my skin was still young and really elastic they would look smoother) but I know over time, as the healing continues they will smooth out a bit and either way they are a good reminder to keep my desert-dry skin moist with yummy lotion and sunscreen.

I have been told they look a bit odd or unexpected because of where they are placed but I like that. The whole thing looks random and accidental. Because my life is so much about order these days (deadlines, bedtimes, dinner-on-time) it is nice to have something that looks like a lovely accident, a smattering of the unexpected, a bold happenstance, in the middle of it all.

I have a few “cityscape” images I want to get up on Citizen Beta. I have not posted as many at this point as I thought I would. But, tonight instead I am sharing some “regionscapes.” This past weekend we drove north for a hike and I took a lot of pictures. Mostly from the car. As we were driving, then walking, then driving again, I thought about why I live here. On Friday evening we took a friends daughter out to eat: she just started college, having moved here from Rhode Island to go to school. We asked her how she likes this city, this state and she was more than enthusiastic. She loves it here and I breathed a sigh of relief. I am always nervous everyone will hate this place I have called home most of my life and I am not sure why. I am conflicted: there is part of me yearning to move on, move away. But, I am also very tied to this landscape, this town.

When we lived in Seattle and were trying to decide whether or not to move back here, D told me “When I close my eyes, I see that landscape.” For me that sealed the deal. He was homesick and this is home.

On our hike, the sky was perfect, the air was so sweet smelling, the leaves were crispy. There were slick black rocks, sheared at odd angles, sparkling in the sun. We walked along a noisy stream. We looked up to see people scaling cliffs. Everyone we passed on the trail had a quick and easy smile.

After we got home I quickly downloaded my pictures from the day, mostly because I knew I got some cute ones of the kids. But, as I looked through them they felt like a confirmation. This is a land of beauty. Sometimes it takes a special eye to see it (that is what the cityscape entries are all about for me, too). Anyway…here are a few of my favorites from that little journey.

(more…)

I entered a writing contest at Moonlight Ambulette on a whim. I didn’t win. But, I tried. And, it was fun. Check out the winning story and some of the other entries.   Mine is posted as well.

When I was in high school my aunt had a hot air balloon. I was expected, fall weekends, to get up and help crew. In other words, I had to pull myself out of my hung-over stupor and get dressed in warm, bulky cloths and drive around in the back of a pick-up truck waiting for the balloon to touch down in a dusty mesa full of goat heads and help catch the balloon as it landed and pack the thing up and then watch as tourists got “pinned” which usually involved someone sticking their hands down their shirts or pants then dumping champagne on their heads. I hated every minute of it. Consequently, I never took a balloon ride. Even though it was magnificent or whatever and people pay lots of money to do it and I could do it for free. Even though I earned it, I never took a ride. I do remember getting into a fist fight with my sister one morning. I think she hated it too and I believe she also declined all offers for rides.

My aunt eventually sold the balloon and the shiny balloon crew jackets we all have are just souvenirs now, of that time, about 20 years ago.

Early October here means the International Balloon Fiesta. Because of the above trauma, I have always resented the Fiesta. 700 or so balloons and their crews come from all over the world (it is the largest ballooning event in the world) to clog up morning traffic and the noisy balloons fly over your house early in the morning making all the neighborhood dogs frantic. The only times I really enjoyed the Fiesta was the four years I waited tables at a local 50’s diner: it is located on Route 66 and is in all the tour guides and people would stand in line for strong coffee and huevos rancheros. I would make so much money.

Last year L was pretty excited about the balloons. So we made lots of balloon crafts and read lots of balloon books. One morning I told her we could go on a balloon hunt: this was my way of trying to get her closer to the balloons without waking up super early, taking a shuttle to the balloon field and mingling with the out-of-town masses. We got in the car and just started heading to the north part of town where the balloons were huddled in the sky, waiting to be blown in one direction or another. We saw one touching down and pulled into a parking lot to watch from the car and I have to admit, it was cool, because L thought it was cool.

Here it is early October again. Every morning I have seen hundreds of balloons in the sky. Last weekend, early on Sunday morning L and I went grocery shopping. On the way home we could see several balloons flying low over our neighborhood and we started following one down side streets. As we came up to a park, it settled down between the trees and electrical wires and landed. A crowd gathered and L and I watched from the car. She thought it was amazing. It was. I told her we could go on a balloon hunt again this year and we planned it for today.

We left the house a little after eight this morning. We could see so many balloons in the distance, their colors vague against the light blue sky. I needed coffee and so we lost sight of them as I tried to find the nearest drive through. Finally with a warm (and very large) coffee in hand we headed north and a little west, aiming for where we could see the majority of the silky creatures hovering. Soon, they were above us, all around us and many were starting to come down (balloon rides generally being short affairs). I was watching one getting lower and lower and saw that it was heading for a tiny mesa (just an empty lot really) and I turned in that direction. A large crowd was gathering, fellow balloon hunters, and the trucks of several chase crews pulled in, kicking up dust. I could tell quite a few balloons were heading for this spot. As we got out of the car, L trying to run ahead, me juggling the baby and the camera and the car keys, two balloons quickly touched down. As we took a spot in the crowd a third headed our way. We had found a prime balloon hunting locale.

A, who had been fussy in the car, grew silent and content, her eyes feasting on the bright colors and tremendous bodies of the balloons. L was yelling, “it is so big, SO BIG” as one gondola skiddered to a halt, balloon bouncing and trembling above it. We watched a few more land and the crews hold tight to the tow ropes, steadying the gondolas, feet finding purchase in the slippery sand. The balloons came down and slowly deflated, tumbling to their sides, spilling their human occupants. Then, with effort, the silks were were rolled up and put away into the backs of pick-up trucks, everyone driving off to find hot coffee and nicely cooked eggs with requisite green chile.

As we watched all this L kept trilling “this gives me goosebumps.” She was beside herself with the excitement and beauty, not to mention the thrill of the hunt. I have to say, perhaps for the first time in my life, I really saw the wonder of those delicate and powerful flying contraptions. I saw through her eyes the whimsical meeting of art and science. I cannot wait for Balloon Hunt 2008.

I created a page (see right hand sidebar) with pictures from this morning: I still have more to add. I wish I could’ve done the experience more justice…but, it was really not about the balloons. It was really about sharing something magical with my girls.

I have been blogging in my head, if you know what I mean. So much I have wanted to share, about our vacation: about how sometime after midnight, somewhere in Texas the moon finally came up and was the most amazing sliver of orange in a black black sky. I wanted to take a picture but I was driving (about 80 miles per hour on a two lane road) and the camera was next to D who was trying to sleep so he could drive the next leg. I told myself, remember what this looks like, sear it into your memory, no camera needed when you have so many words at your disposal…I don’t think I can do that moon justice with any description but I can still see it when I close my eyes.

Since we have been back A got another tooth and L has met her new preschool teacher. I have hosted my in-laws for dinner and seen my own mother a couple times. I took the girls to a new (used) book store and wrote a review. I ate Japanese food on my wedding anniversary and A ran a very high fever for a couple days. I saw an old friend and met her lovely 2 month old daughter.

The trip was relaxing but coming home always feels like a game of catch-up to me…I don’t want to spend time catching up with blogging.

I have another busy week ahead of me but also plans to sit down and write. I need to write syllabi, a dotmoms post, and work on my big project. I need to write about the books I read on the trip and post that here. Maybe I will even write about that glorious moon.

Maybe not.

I am just back from vacation. I relaxed, drove very far (and back again) and read a bunch of books. I also took a lot of pictures. More on all of it soon.

(can you guess from the pictures where I was?)

The sign at the trail head said ¾ mile to the lake but after walking at least a mile we turned around because L was so sleepy. We never saw the lake. We did, however, finally catch glimpse of one of the many woodpeckers that serenaded us in the evening and added to the morning birdsong.

We also heard coyotes howling in the night and lots and lots of gunshots, even though we were firmly in the national forest. Baked beans, toasted marshmallows, strong coffee, bug bites…

We are back from my sister’s wedding in Richmond , Virginia! And, I bet you didn’t even know we were gone. I had hoped to see Washington DC from the outside of the car and to meet up with the mysterious Liz on this trip but due to circumstances (getting lost a lot, waiting in long lines a lot, fussy kids, etc) we had to simplify some of our plans. Here, though, are the highlights:

Top Ten Memories Making Moments of our trip to Richmond

10) Potomac Mills Outlet Mall

9) L barfs so much on plane ride home it drips under the seat onto the feet of the people behind us

8 ) Driving by various monuments and buildings in Washington DC on our way to Richmond

7) Touring White House of the Confederacy and the Confederate Museum

6) Delicious tiramisu at rehearsal dinner

5) L and A get to spend fun day with my sister and her (soon to be) husband

4) Virginia Museum of Science

3) Maymont Park

2) Sharing a shuttle from the Dollar Rent-a-Car to Dulles Airport with ANTM winner Eva Pigford

1) E and B’s beautiful wedding at Lewis Ginter Botanical Gardens