L'aventure américaine

We had a wonderful weekend and enjoyed the three days off. I could have taken more. I insisted to randal that we “do” something so that the weekend didn’t roll by like most of them do. So, we research virgin timber and headed south of paoli to the Pioneer Mother’s Memorial Forest. The trees were big, the weather was warm, the sun was out. It was great.  We started with a picnic on the grass. Mickey Mouse led the way.  The trees are tall and beautiful. While lacking the majesty of the redwoods, we felt right at home aMidst the jungle green.  This one loved the hike and wanted to walk and pick all of the leaves. Somehow, we need to differentiate between our garden lettuce and everything else.  It was a longer hike home, but we kept moving by singing the whole time. A little bit of raffi, a little bit of John Denver, and a little bit of random folk songs from my own childhood.  A success and memorable, sweaty, and wonderful visit!

After my whiny post, I had a shift in attitude. That’s the nature of this adventure, right? Up and down? (Or is that just life with me?!) It’s a beautiful spring with good walks and crystals from cousins and a lot of love.  Cheers to the ups!

We have all reached that point at some juncture.  I am here today.  Tired of this.  Tired of not being able to make summer plans and feeling anxious about get togethers.  Tired of masks and gloves and fear of germs.  Tired of every story being dominated by COVID-19. So, I was happy to revisit this poem from the Unitarian Church today. Pandemic by Lynn Ungar What if you thought of it As the Jews consider the Sabbath--- the most sacred of times? Cease from travel. Cease from buy and selling. Give up, just for now, on trying to make the world different than it is. Sing. Pray. Touch only those To whom you commit your life. Center down. And when your body has become still, reach out with your heart. Know that we are connected in ways that are terrifying and beautiful. (You could hardly deny it now.) Know that our lives are in one another's hands. (Surely, that has come clear.) Do not reach out your hands. Reach out your heart. Reach

I am ready for the warm weather.  A strong frost nearly took out my tomatoes, which I had covered, and I am beginning to doubt that any of my seedlings will ever sprout.  I'm cold cold cold and am ready for that warm blanket of Indiana humidity to wrap me up. I am enjoying my lettuce, although if we are stuck at home next year for the quarantine, I need to plant a lot more.  There is not enough to keep up with our roughage habits.  I was thrilled when Milo loved the spinach I planted and proceeded to eat about half the crop while just standing in the garden.   There is one person who is happy with the rain.  It means that all of the boots are out.  Here is Marian with six boots - her dream come true. And Dad has been working on the dock.  It looks amazing and maybe we'll be able to get this water-averse kid in the pond this summer. This picture summarizes what most of our parenting looks like right now.  Milo is bothering Marian.  Marian wants to be free

I am headed to bed soon after a riveting night of paying bills and closing my Chase accounts.  (Chase bank is one of the largest contributors to fossil fuels, so I felt that it was important to divest.  It is a pain to divest.  And not even very satisfying when they don't ask why you're closing your account.  I told them anyway of course.) Moving on from my soap box, here are photos from our visit to IU's campus.  Beautiful flowers, beautiful sunshine.  And so many graduates (who were not practicing social distancing) who wanted to take their picture at the Sample Gates.  I am lucky to be in a time in my life when my momentous moments are small and with the people with whom I am quarantined.  I am not missing a graduation or a prom or a birth or a death.  I am celebrating Marian's new words and Milo's ability to write and (maybe?) start to read.  They're big moments, for sure, but cozy ones that one can enjoy in the safety of one's home. Milo loved

It had been my goal to post at the end of the day after the kids were in bed, but that time just isn't going to work.  Especially if a glass of wine has been incorporated, after putting 5859023 kids to bed (or two, which can seem like more), I am just too sleepy to write anything. Hence my May vacation. We're still here.  No one has COVID as far as I know.  We all still like each other most of the time.  In small events, the baby chicks moved to their temporary home in the apple orchard.  They will live their for about 2-3 more weeks and then will join the martyrs of the French Revolution and two of Henry VIII's wives.  For now, they eat, drink, and are merry. Marian continues to grow and has finally grown into this delightful onesie that my dear friend, Nell, made for Milo back in Klamath.  We all still talk about Rodeo's Pizza - the best pizza in Oregon.  It's a restaurant that our friends started and we miss it.  So, Marian and I matched and tri