Summer Snapshot:

Little Cousins (in D.C.)

Feel the Night ...

The summer night is like a perfection of thought. ~Wallace Stevens

My daughter has been telling me recently that we needed to go outside and “feel the night.”

I hesitate - we've had pretty busy (and hot) summer days and sleep is paramount to the success of the next day. Not to mention that I've been exhausted myself with her brothers' early rising. But we've read quite a few stories lately that include some aspect of nighttime adventure.

So, I embraced the essence of summertime and we took flashlights and went outside.

And I once again learned through the eyes of my child.

Did you know that if you shine a flashlight in the crevices of a tree in the night, you can see some pretty cool bug things? Did you know that the fireflies are trying to teach us a dance?

And our garden…it looks so different at night. Flowers are more shadowy and mysterious. And let's not forget the fairies -- some sleep in the soft petals of flowers while others have made their homes in the tree near the fairy garden we made them.

We listened too - to the night time melody of crickets and the wind through the tree branches. Our street is so silent at night ... until my daughter's laughter pierces the quiet. She urges me to lay in the grass and look at the stars.

We whisper, we sing, she grows tired and rubs her eyes. I offer a piggyback ride to bribe her to bed.

I can’t imagine what my life would be like if my children were not in it. Or how much I needed to "feel the night" differently.

Image: from Google Images

Baking Hot

375 -- is the temperature our blueberry cobbler is baking at but it feels like my body temperature right now. I am sweltering. Wilting. Hello, June - seriously, what are you doing to this Northern gal? But bake we must - because we are rolling in blueberries from our recent picking adventures.

Summer is flying by and I have so many projects to get done. But it's just too hot for that kind of effort. Really all that Geetar Dad and I can muster the gumption to do is to stay up far too late lounging on the couch watching marathons of Dexter and Mad Men.

Yeah, it's 98 degrees at night. Summer in the south.

Summer Snapshot:

Summerness

Square Peg

Wowza -- I'm having quite the week of self doubt.

One thing that you need to know about me is that I'm very comfortable in being that square peg. The one that doesn't quite fit in that round hole. Yeah, the "outsider" mantle is something I tried on during our many cross country moves during middle school and it just became a way I could really be ME.

And then I'll forget and I'll move along in different groups and then I'll be surprised all over again when I don't quite fit in the tricky crowd mindset.

I am very, very lucky to have some incredible people that know the true me and for that I am eternally grateful. I hope I give them the same haven to be themselves too.

Good friends, good books and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life. ~ Mark Twain

Visions of ...

My life now is almost as I’ve imagined it in the past. Being the mother of a spunky girl and traveling the world is this future vision I had in my early 20's. But in my fantasy we live in Venice or Dublin or some other European city . And I’m taking pictures or filming for National Geographic. That’s pretty much it. Oh yeah, we hang out with writers, musicians and artists.

There was a Mister in the vision but nothing specific beyond what Geetar Dad is to me - the complete package of what makes me happy. Smart, funny, balanced, creative and passionate. And the epilogue to this past fantasy -- we will still travel the world as a family. My kids have become some of the writers, musicians and artists in my life and my photos still capture wild animals and colorful images as the kids make their way through the days adventures.

One day I'll figure out what my next career move will be. But for now being the Mama Sillyhead is pretty damn happening.

photo from National Geographic Expeditions

Donna is a Punk Rocker ...

I'm having one of those days where I seriously have my macaroni together.

Today I am embracing my super sonic Donna Reed-self. The day where you're a step ahead all day long with cooking, cleaning and scooting the family about. I'm not wearing heels and red lipstick -- but I'm presentable and enjoying the sense of accomplishment of being organized and domestic (usually it's one or the other).

And yeah, I'm doing it all while listening to the Clash and Buzzcocks. Wha? You don't think Aunt Bea couldn't bust it more if she had a little more old school punk in her system?

Now for me -- I've got a cake to frost and a table to set.

Rock on, mamas!!

Image: Retro Stock Art

Wham!

If you've ever suffered grief of the loss of a loved one then you know that the memories can sometimes hit you like a sucker punch -- knocking the air out of your lungs.

Today I was moving some things around in the storage area of our basement - taking some things up to the sewing room and other things out to the garage. And then WHAM! I saw a few of the vintage train cases that my Dad always bought at auctions and I felt that grief punch again. He would use these cases to store little projects and tools in - like a power sander and accessories, or a glue gun and other adhesives. My dad was very handy and he enjoyed puttering in lots of projects and hobbies. I have inherited many of these odds & ends but I'm just now coming across a lot of the things and exploring all these little boxes (two moves and the grief process slowed me down).

Today I was super excited to find a whole metal stamping kit and dremel set in the one little train case. I have been wanting to make more of the metal washer jewelry after K. and I did some at her party.

This is just more incentive to get my studio into shape. And more incentive to keep digging for the treasures that my Dad left for me to discover and kick start my creativity again.

Cereal Mom

It's summer, so our breakfasts are quick & light -- mostly cereals and fruit.

It's funny how our family divides on the cereal line. See, this is where my groggy sleep deprived brain goes in the morning. B.A.T. (Before Awake Tea). I ponder the cereal divide.

Geetar Dad and Kid A will stick with one kind of cereal for a long while. ONLY that cereal day after day. And they love to sog up their cereal with a giant bowl of milk. Now, E and I love variety - one day it's granola, another it's flakes or other Trader Joe's yummies. Some days we'll mix them all together. I'll sometimes rock it up and put a small splash of milk, but we like the cereal dry too. But maybe ... just maaaaaaybeee I'll mix yogurt or applesauce in with ours too.

And while I'm at it -- it can blow me away sometimes how quickly E-man is growing. I just looked over at him this morning and he was sitting in his chair with a regular adult spoon, eating cereal out of regular bowl and drinking his water out of a regular cup (y'know, because big Sis drinks out of one). He's been eating so much better now that we've just gotten rid of any baby/toddler trappings. He HATED the tray on his booster seat and wanted to sit right up at the table and use regular tableware. Same mess, just cleaning it off the table instead of the tray.

And Super A? She just serves herself. She'll set the table with placemats and grab her own bowl and pour the cereal herself. She wants to pour the milk herself because I just don't put enough in there. The only thing I do during breakfast in keep her company since her brother eats and zips and she takes her time. It can drag out because she usually has some art project sitting next to her to work on while eating.

OK - the Awake Tea is kicking in. Off to be productive.

Bloomsday

Ah, dammit -- another year past and I still haven't completed Ulysses in time for Bloomsday. I thought this would be the year. I almost slogged through it a year or two back when my one gal pal bookclub was tackling the classics. But we picked the wrong time of year to read it ~springtime, when you want to be outside without a heavy Irish tome in hand.

I love to revisit the classics and then my friend challenged me to read Ulysses and for some reason the pressure of having it done in time for our Bloomsday trek around town just put a block on me ever completing it.

But James Joyce, I will try again next year. Or perhaps it'll wait for the transatlantic flight to Ireland.

A. has taken to marking the map with me for our family trip when E. turns four.