Grace's First All-Girl Birthday

A new soccer outfit for Felicity and a new American Girl doll, Kaya.
Horses and dolls--her greatest passions now outside sports.

After 8 years of sharing a birthday party with her brother, usually dominated by boy guests, Grace finally got her own party with three girlfriends. And guess what? I forgot to take a picture of her party. The girls played at the park: badminton, rock climbing, wading in the river, tag. They took breaks to eat potato chips, sip on orange soda, and talk about girl things.

Girl parties, I noticed, are a lot different from boy parties. For one thing, they are so much more civilized. No shouting, pushing, arguments. At least for now.

One extra special friend came back with us for a sleepover. The girls set up their sleeping area in the basement, played until it started to get dark, then watched "A League of Their Own" together before bed.

So sweet, my little girl who is no longer the chubby-faced shy one, but a tall, lithe, athletic ball of energy. Now that she's nine, she is already plotting a party for the magical number ten.

Well-Kneaded Dough

Sitting on the deck with Grace this morning, eating apple puff pancake, watching the chickens scratch under the hedge for bugs. Lovely gentle breeze, grass so green, lavender in bloom, chimes in the distance, blue blue blue clear sky, not yet oppressive as it will be later in the summer.

Although not spoken of, Alaska is constantly on our minds. This morning, Grace asked me if she went without earrings for 5 weeks, would her holes close up? I must go without earrings while in Alaska, hence the question. "Yes, you're still growing, your holes are pretty new. My ears don't close up in that time, but maybe if I went for a year they would. I've had the holes a lot longer than you." After a little pause to think about it, Grace replied, "It's like well-kneaded dough. When you pull dough out after kneading it, it goes back into place. My ears would go back quickly because the dough hasn't been kneaded that long. Your holes would go back into place more slowly because they've been kneaded a lot longer."

A great image. It's amazing the things my very imaginative, bright young girl thinks up.

On a completely different note, this is the first post I've made on my new Netbook. Dave got me set up with my blog, email, and skype. It'll be a new experience for me, being in electronic contact for the first time ever in my Alaska career. I think it'll help significantly with the loneliness and homesickness.

Happy Birthday Samuel! (or, One Party Down, One to Go)

My little guy had his first all-boy, no-sister birthday party today. Swimming at the pool for hours, home to pizza, baseball, chocolate cake, and more baseball. While he's not technically 11 yet (he still has two days), he has declared himself 11 and no longer the only 10-year old in the group.

I can't believe my little baby is growing up so fast.

Morning Routine

We have slipped into a comfortable summer morning pattern. I wake up about 6:30, early enough to hold the door for Dave as he wheels his bike out the door to go to school. Make my coffee, turn on the computer, settle down on the couch with coffee, newspaper, and Tom on my lap. About 7:15 I'm starving and wondering what we're going to eat for breakfast.

Today is a good example of our typical mornings of late. About 7:15, wondering what to eat, I decide that I have enough clean dishes in the kitchen (having spent the greater part of yesterday evening at a baseball game--no time for dishes before collapsing into bed) to make scones. I've found a lovely English scone recipe in which I have--gasp!--doubled the butter to make a heavenly little biscuit. Pulled them out of the oven, poured my second cup of coffee, took it and two piping hot butter bombs plus wild blueberry jam outside to watch the chickens. Grace stumbled out in her jammies so we let the girls out for their morning explore and bath. It rained, again, last night and early this morning so there were plenty of bugs to peck at.

Samuel finally came down about 8:15, perked up immediately upon hearing about the doubled butter scones (he does not like them the normal way), and made himself a nice little plate. We all sat outside in the dappled sunshine and watched the chickens, the cats, and the dog. It's just beautiful out this morning. The grass is sparkling from the rain, a single line of spider's web stretches from the plum tree to a flowerpot on the deck, catching the sun right in the middle of its span. Warm scones, light breeze, sunshine and puffy white clouds. Magical.

After the girls have pecked and scratched and explored a bit they settle down in a pile of feathers, feet, and beaks on a small section of dirt. And then they become dopey. They let the kids pet them, pick them up, anything. They fluff and wiggle and kick up some dirt, push their heads under their neighbor's bottom, settle down again. Over and over again. It's mesmerizing.

Samuel with Martha.

It's a little hard to see, but the chickens are in the darkened foreground,
Tom and Fluffy are on the deck under the bench.

By this time I have changed their water, filled up their food, eaten my breakfast, drank my coffee, and tired of sitting outside not doing the laundry or the dishes or whatever else I should be doing at that moment. We herd the girls back into their coop, shut the door, and head back inside, the morning routine over, the magic over, the day on its way.

A Lesson In Flexibility

We went to bed last night dreaming of spending the afternoon at the pool today. We all find a lot of pleasure in being at the pool while "everyone else" is still in school. It's only for a week or so that we get to play hooky like this but it's worth every moment. Unfortunately, it hasn't happened yet this spring.

After a last look at the stars popping out from behind the trees outside my bathroom window, I went to sleep last night dreaming of my first dip in the pool this year. I woke up this morning to pouring rain.

In this desert oasis in which we live, we have had the most wet and unpredictably gloomy spring I can yet remember. Yesterday it rained off and on all day. I decided to approach this weather differently yesterday: for the first time since I've been able to hang out my laundry this season I didn't lament the fact that I'd have to use my drier. "What the heck," I figured, "be grateful to have the drier since I have tons of dirty laundry that has to be dealt with." I went about the day, turning out basket after basket of clean, dry clothes, happy to just watch the sun come out, then the rain fall, in an endless back-and-forth. We had a brief break in the weather in which we scrambled to get suited up and headed to the pool. Samuel and Grace played with their friends for about thirty minutes before Grace--usually so hardy--crawled out of the pool, goose-pimply and dripping wet.

The gray clouds and intermittent rain cleared away again just in time to enjoy our dinner outside on the deck. We sat around the table laughing at the chicken antics (the girls love to come out in the evening), gazing at the big fluffy white clouds patched against the brightest of blue. Plans hatched for swimming on Monday, spirits lifted at the hope that we were finally going to get our "normal" weather back this week.

I said goodnight to the stars outside my bathroom window and crawled in bed, window open to let in the cooling air.

This morning, it poured again. "Okay, let's be flexible. I'll read a bunch of our book to the kids, The Captive, by Scott O'Dell. Do a little math, bake some bread, maybe even some cookies. Heck, make it a cozy inside-the-house Monday." Flexible, right?

And now, as I finish up this post, the sun has burst out again, lighting up the sparkling green of the grass, touching the tops of our backyard trees, sending the birds into paroxysms of morning song.

It's a perfect lesson in flexibility. No point in resisting the arrival of rain, or even (someday) the oppressive heat that is sure to come, eventually. It all happens and all we can do is adapt and live the day the best we can. Bring out the rain coats, or the swimsuits, or neither, but do it gracefully and without complaint, for the weather is going to happen whether I resist it or not.

Shameless Bragging

Here is a short clip of Samuel pitching in today's first game of the Little League tournament his team is in. It amazes Dave and me how cool and collected he is on the mound.

Why We're Not Having Quiche Tonight

I had grand plans this morning after a visit to my town's opening day Farmer's Market. Use up some chard from last week's market, add sauteed leeks from this week, make a lovely quiche with a side of lettuce salad also purchased today.

We already ate all the strawberries. I know, heavily pesticided, but so tasty!

And then somehow the day got away from me. Wrote a silly entry about ticks, just for the sheer pleasure of grossing myself out even more. Read a couple pages of a new/used medieval mystery, played some Uno with Grace, watched Samuel play with a friend all morning then take off to play with another one all afternoon.

Grace has wanted to take me on a bike ride she and her dad did last week. Down the river, up and over it, and into a lovely park on the other side. About a 10-mile ride. Nothing too strenuous.

The view from the park

Nothing too strenuous for Mr. Heavy-Duty Biker Dude or Miss Strongest Almost-9 Year Old Girl Ever. For me? I can hike anywhere, up and down, in any kind of weather, no problem. For miles and miles. No problem. Yes, I have a cushy bike, a wide seat that bounces up and down with every minuscule bump and nice fat tires. But I am not in biking shape. It's a long way up to cross over on the freeway. Even on the lowest possible setting I barely made it up, huffing and puffing behind Grace. Then I got to do it again on the way back. Hmmm. My bottom was absolutely numb by the time we got home.

So I crashed out on the couch, mumbled out instructions as kids came and went, hazily listened to NPR, cuddled deeper into the blanket, until reality hit. I was too tired to deal with crust, chard, leeks, lettuce. I cook from scratch every single day. Today, I don't want any of it.

And so, we are having take-and-bake pizza. Overly salty, bread-y, greasy pizza. But I don't have to dirty any dishes to make it and I don't have to do more than turn on the oven.

Maybe I'll make the quiche tomorrow.