And Sometimes You Get This

Dreaming the Full Strawberry Moon

Update from Summer

I've been thinking a lot about letters and how I hardly ever write them anymore. Quite frankly, it feels weird to send a card or a note through the mail and since they inevitably go unanswered (although getting a response is not the motivating factor behind the writing) I often wonder if my letters, cards and notes actually arrive where I've sent them.

This is not a manifesto. No announcement that I'm returning to letter writing with a vengeance. I'm just feeling the loss, wondering what I might do about it. Does anyone still write letters? Do you?

But wait, I promised an update didn't I?

We are awash in tomatoes. These are "Juliet" tomatoes, a cross between cherry and grape, not as sweet as grape. Despite their size, they pack a lot of big tomato flavor.

In an unrelated note, Frank stumbled upon a snail habitat underneath a water sprinkler on Father's Day. A good deal of time was spent finding these little guys a new home.

One of the joys of this summer (so far) has been a resurgence of lego building which might explain why these guys were staring me down at breakfast this morning.
(I like that Max has supplied wine glasses for his minifigs.)

I was noticing while I downloaded these pictures that every shot I take at the pool looks the same, blue water, blue sky, quarry walls. The only thing that changes is the length of Max's hair.

We have been enthralled by paper airplanes for the last couple of weeks. Frank have Max have not only made a shelf full of various designs but they've been collecting data on their flight performance.

Max is very serious about data collection and graphs and also diagrams.

And here lies my abandoned yoga mat and gym bag...

I'm going back next week.

First Week of Summer

Max gathers tomatoes

Our first full week of summer has been disconcerting. It always a takes us a while to settle into our summer routine but add a 38 hour power outage, a harrowing trip to the allergist, Max's best friend's move to Austin and the week was a hard one all the way around.

There is no easy way to say this: the power outage caused me to completely unravel. You know how you imagine yourself in a power outage, calmly lighting candles, finding flashlights, playing board games and fanning yourself with a paperback copy of Howl. I did none of these things. I panicked. I was a mess. I fell apart and am still forgiving myself for it. I am practicing for the next power outage. I have a list.

The trip to the allergist was something Max and I had both been dreading since I made the appointment. (Max inherited a lovely cocktail of allergies from both me and Frank.) This was a reevaluation appointment which meant a skin test. Max had his first skin test when he was six and we had been putting this off for the last three years. He has very reactive skin making what is just mildly unpleasant for most kids absolutely excruciating. Imagine fifteen minutes of your child being in excruciating itchy pain and there's not one thing you can do except watch the clock and count down the minutes until it is over. Bad news, Max's allergies have almost all gone into the high or severe range. Good news, he is healthy as a horse and his dust allergy has completely disappeared. The allergist says that almost never happens.

Max's best friend moved to Austin at the end of the week (taking my friend, his mom, with him). We will see them soon – and often, I hope. Austin is just up the road but it sort of marked the end of an era or whatever the equivalent of an era would be in measuring the friendship between two nine year old boys.

We struggled this week because of all these things, but mainly because we have been looking for something, feeling around for last summer's rhythm to no avail. This summer is already different. This summer will have to sing its own song.

Blur

I forget this every year – the whirling blur that is the end of the school year for Max and thus, for me. These final weeks are filled with Market Days and concerts and plays and parties. I am at the school almost every day.

The kid energy around the end of school is contagious and I catch myself counting down the days.

This is also the time of year when I try to put my creative projects in order for the summer months.

My days during the school year look a bit different from summer days. In summertime, there is less silence but there is also more Max, which is a particularly sweet bonus. Being at home with Max changes the amount of time I have to write but it also opens up all kinds of creative paths I would never discover on my own. Max's creativity is bottomless. You want some fresh ideas? Try refracting them through the eyes of a nine year old boy!

Last year, (anyone remember the infamous Trident of Creativity?) I had some very specific goals for the summer, although I thought I'd left plenty of wiggle room. This year I am leaving every door and window wide open. I'm leaving it all up to chance! This summer will be what it will be and if in August, all I've got to show for it is sunburned shoulders, that will be enough.