Duckie Interlude

Here are some duckies, from Mistah's fabulous escapade:

 Aw, duckies.

And look! Ledgie! And her new old friend, New London Light!

And now if you'll excuse me, I have to go see these girls:

And this girl:

Have a fabulous day, duckies.

while you were sleeping

Goodnight, San Diego

Good morning, New York!

Tuesday tableau

I often lay in my back yard like a lizard -- soaking up the suns rays, warming my skin, absorbing vitamin D, and generally re-charging. I know it's not PC. But I do it anyway. I work on being, not doing. Being, not doing. It's a skill that almost all of us need to cultivate more of in this frenetic, always growing to-do list culture of ours.

And although I so often feel time poor, and sometimes become slightly anxious about all that appears to need doing, I'm rewarded for generally fucking off on my back deck with things like this:

Another Lighthouse?

I wasn't there, but I hear it was great......

Mistah went out on the High Seas and got to look back at New London from afar . . .

. . . and got to see a lot of action, out there on the high seas . . .

. . . apparently, it was fabulous.

New London Light was happy to see Mistah . . .

. . . Ledgie Light is *always* happy to see Mistah . . .

. . . Aw, Ledgie . . .

. . . Mistah had the best seat in the house . . .

But, wait. What's out there?

Is that Race Rock Light?

. . . to be continued . . .

flashback Friday: 2009 minutae

FRIDAY, MARCH 20, 2009

friday minutae

It's Friday, and if you're anything like me you are just plain worn out from the busy week of work keeping up with blogging and facebook and twitter (oh my!). This presents the perfect opportunity to clear both my head and my notebook of all the little bitty baby notions that will never grow up to be blog posts.

1. Rock Stars

On Tuesday, I received a text from my friend Desiree asking if we wanted to go out for beers that night. I responded that although I had packed my gym bag, I could totally be talked out of using it. We made a plan. That night, after switching to plan B because the mental cases at the first bar had closed for their annual employee camping trip -on St. Patrick's Day- we settled in and enjoyed lovely drinks and food together. At one point, Des asked me exactly when I had received her text, because I had taken longer than usual to respond. I told her I saw it that morning, but I was busy at work so I couldn't respond for about an hour. She cracked up, admitting that she had sent the text inviting us out for beers.. on SUNDAY! Isn't she a rock star for getting my random text and just going with it? With two kids, one baby, and one husband on board. Love those peeps.

2. Sick Days

I find it really hard to determine whether or not my kids are sick enough to miss school. It's unfair, because I am a believer in the notion of the mental health day. And kids work way harder at school than most of us do during our work day. Their day is totally regimented, they are told when to take a break, when to eat, when to be quiet, when to talk, and when to work. They are expected to recite their thought processes on demand. And they have to math without excel formulas, write without spellcheck, and learn crazy shit like US History and the periodic table. Then when they get home at the end of a long day, they change into yoga pants and crack a beer have to do homework.

Who wouldn't need a break from this rigor?

Kids can't ask for a vacation day, and they can't call in sick. However, despite all evidence and opinions to the contrary, I have a very hard time allowing my kids to take a day off. Perhaps this stems from my upbringing, in which rigor mortis held questionable merit as cause for an excused absence. When my kids need a day off, they have to resort to the age old art of faking it. I am always suspicious of my boy.

My girl would no sooner fake her way out of school than she would kiss a tarantula. Or a boy. She would drag her rigor mortised self into school and lean stiffly against her desk to soak up more information for processing into her uniquely awesome theories about how it all works. Just yesterday, after discussing the fact that trees give us oxygen, she had an 'aha' moment and hypothesized: "So THAT'S why there's no oxygen in the desert!" Stay in school, girlfriend.

3. Being Jacquie

Speaking of my girl, she recently closed herself up in my room for a while, then came out looking like this and demanding that we all call her Jacquie



4. Class Photo

And finally, I leave you with this image, in which I was recently tagged on facebook. Dear Lord, the fashion of the 70s. The hairdos! The vests! Can you spot me?

(click to enlarge)



Have a great weekend, rock stars!

Extra credit

My oldest thinks she might want to cheer for the high school she plans to go to next year. In order to do so she needs to maintain a 3.0 grade point average. The grading period that ends this Friday (yes, tomorrow) is the first that they will look at, and let's just say that it's not certain that her grades will average out at that magic number.

There are two subjects that are especially worrisome, math and history. Math, well, who knows, we're just holding our breath on that one. But history had numerous extra credit opportunities available. So, last weekend found us at both the Mormon Battalion (omg, it's pretty dang cool! Have you been there? Those Mormons know how to put on a show!)

And the Juniperro Serra Museum, (which looks like it needs some serious TLC, definitely not Mormon owned.)

It was all fine and good, and we all learned things at both spots, but it may not have been what I chose to do with my weekend had tomorrow's deadline not been looming. I mean, it's the weekend!

But you know what made it all worth it?? This:

Ha, yes! THIS! I thought she was going to die of embarrassment. The tour guide asked for volunteers to demonstrate the above Mormon Battalion gear. There were no volunteers. None at all.

So she chose my girl to model the gear, and she was not taking no for an answer. Unsurprisingly, this photo did not make my girl's extra credit report. But it did make it here. I'm in love with that cute soldier!

New London Light

I've promised you photos of Ledgie Loo 3.0, no, Ledgie Loo 4.0, wait Ledgie Loo 5.7 . . . and I will deliver . . .

In the meantime, though, we seem, inexplicably, and without our knowledge, to have amassed a New London Light collection, too........

You know New London Harbor Light, right?

Famously commemorated by the US Postal Service in their New England Coastal Lighthouse series?

The oldest and the tallest lighthouse in Connecticut?

Guarding the Harbor in tandem with her young friend Ledgie?

Hard at work, day after day, since way back in 1760?

Gwen Basilica mosaic

She's a beaut, ol' New London Light.

No lighthouses, no, but a cool old watercolor . . . 

New London Light had a blast at Schooner Fest a couple of years ago.

Day photo

Okay, that's Ledgie. But, sigh, isn't she great?

Day photo

Ooops, there Ledgie is again.

Day photo

And again. Oh, Ledgie.

But New London is a city that can handle it all -- black & white, rich & poor, musicians & artists, everyone else & me.

And do you know what else New London can handle, with our usual aplomb and grace? What we most enthusiastically and heartily embrace? What we need to make ourselves whole?

Both New London Ledge Light and New London Harbor Light.

Have fun, you two. Thanks for all your hard work.

Uncle Merv in the snow

My boy's 16th birthday coincided with a weekend invitation to Big Bear.

Wait, what? SIXTEEN?!

I know.

Anyway, we jumped at the chance to do something fun and different in celebration of life, happiness, and getting really really really really old.

What do you get when you mix four families, several guests, one birthday, a snowstorm, a mountain, a house full of tchotchkes, a heated toilet seat..... um. Wait, what was I talking about? Does anyone understand Uncle Merv's meanderings? Let's just roll the film:

We were in charge of dinner the first night, in the form of self made pizzas and birthday desserts. I made a lasagne, but didn't quite calculate the thawing time correctly what with the frigid tundra and all. It was a delightful midnight snack, and the pizzas were rockin. 

The house was three stories of fun. I haven't gone up and down so many stairs since 'nam.

After dinner, we called the birthday boy out from his lair to be serenaded

and generously gifted

And observed

The next morning, men made meat

then we headed out into the D A Y

yeah baby

Bill and the kids jumped into a lesson while I guarded the lodge. It was hard to be the inactive one, but I opted to save a few bucks and be the contact person for peeps coming up and down the mountain. I also could not fathom the idea of trying to find another single item of freaking snow gear  without going completely and irrevocably mental. 

So I hung out and took about 800 photos just like this one

Maybe those are my peep in their lesson? I have no idea

Maybe I am related to some of the legs hanging down from the lift? I'm sure I know somebody on that mountain.  

Hey, I know this guy!

and these guys

and these fine folks! 

the breaks were my favorite

The next morning, we woke to a view we had not yet seen because we were all stuck in the clouds

spectacular!

We could actually see the buildings in downtown LA

then it got stormy again - a different kind of spectacle, equally beautiful

The house was something...more about that next time

the snow was pristine

treehouse par-tay

love these girls

The branches were so cold and perfect and inviting yet not. I couldn't stop photographing them

Becky thought they made her look smart

Whoa, she must be a genius!

Others were more smart in style

album cover?

This is how the view looked the rest of our time up there

The Group Photo That Noone Wanted to Take. Except for me, who forced and cajoled even the smallest barefoot people into participation. 

And finally, but most notably:

It wouldn't be snow without a snowdude, right?