During our first day at my parents' house Corin announced, "I'll have seafood every day, of course." So with his prompting, we did eat our fill of fish. And shellfish. And chowder. One afternoon we even dug our own clams and cooked 'em up (photo above). In addition to sea harvest, we had plenty of road trips which meant plenty of ice cream stops. And in Vancouver for our pal's wedding we stopped for sushi, rounding out our coast-to-coast seafood experience. So, here's a few pics of our gastronomical pursuits. Though I'm happy to be back in Montana, rocky mountain oysters just don't do it for me like the ones served on the half shell. I'm already missing the brine in the air and on my plate. Ah well, there's always something to be missed, right?
Chowder in Bretton Woods, NH
Mugging with Mussels in Portsmouth, NH
Beach Peach Ipswich, MA
Lobster in Ipswich, MA
What would vacation be without S'Mores? DuPont, WA (Thanks Bets and Caleb)
Mint Chocolate Chip on the US/Canadian Border
Taking a break in BC. That's strawberry freezies for the boys and olives for the adults.
We are newly returned from our travels to points west then east then west again. I think it may be a long while before I again plan to vacation on both coasts in one trip. But, two weddings, a 90th birthday, a 40th anniversary and a baby-shower later, we are back in Montana, unpacked, suitcases mostly away, and weeds colonizing the garden. The poppies are exuberant this year. Unchecked for the past month, they've made the most of their freedom, choking out the rudbeckia, putting out blooms in unlikely corners of the yard, being cheeky with their leggy leaning over the sidewalk. I have been pulling out fistfulls of them with some regret, they're so pretty it dismays me. The dill and oregano, however, are another story; it is far more satisfying to yank them and I do it without a second thought. Though I had left the tarragon in a patch of its own when we drove toward Portland last month, I couldn't even locate it when I was searching for it to dress a salad the other evening.. Presumably, it was buried beneath the fragrant oregano melee. After a few moments of scouting and a few hearty pulls, I had again secured it a perimeter and access to sunshine. But really, a person's got to admire the oregano and dill and plants of their ilk that can cover so much ground in so short a time. Adapted or fecund or downright exuberant for life, they certainly know something about flourishing where they're planted.
Our travels were wonderful and hectic. In total we slept in five states and one province, logging more than sixty hours of travel. But what's vacation if not a little hecticness right? My parents' house (that interesting experiment in inter-generational living) has nine living in it at all times, Tim and the boys and I rounded it out at 13. With my grandpa leading the pack at nearly 93 years old and my nephew Malcolm bringing up the rear at 10 months, there was always something wonderful to be observed - the huge smile Malcolm has every time he sees his great grandma, the way my dad and his 4 year old grandson tend the garden together, or my grandpa reading the morning paper and taking his coffee while four of his great-grandsons build legos at his feet. Moments like these made me smile, but let me be the first to say, I take my hat off to the current inhabitants of the Josstel (the affectionate name for my parents' hive-like home). Though four generations living in one house has its Norman Rockwell moments, it has far more dishes in the sink, loads of laundry cycling through the washer, and compromises about schedules, space and tidiness than I for one could have guessed at from afar. So, props (and prayers) go out to (and for) all there, but especially my mom who holds the whole listing ship together. Keep on, keeping on, ma'am. You always flourish where you're planted.
The Great(est) Grandparents with the boys
my folks at Crane
Some inter-generational Red Sox watching and cotton candy munching
Today after school Corin created the following picture. He was completely absorbed in his work and it was clear that he set out to draw just this very picture - copying something he so clearly envisioned in his head. So, I thought I'd share today's art: The Blue Headed Dragon.
And on another note, Tim somehow fell hook, line, and sinker for the Information Age and purchased a droid phone, the new Google gadget. He spent yesterday evening loading it up with Star Wars apps, which he swears are to entertain our Jedi crazed children. While I'm taking him at his word that this is for the boys, evidence suggests (see photo) that he is having every bit as much fun tickling R2D2 as they are.
Both my boys have imaginary friends and by strange coincidence both are named Gopher. You might think this would be liable to confuse the household populace. But, mercifully, all similarities between the two end with their appellation.
Corin's Gopher made his first appearance one sunny day when Corin informed us his friend lived under the lilac in the yard. Tim and I thought Gopher might be a short-lived member of our family, but he's proved to have unexpected longevity. He's been with us three years and in that time has been a generally genial, interesting member of the household. He keeps to himself mostly, residing under the lilac in the warm months and in the crawlspace through cooler ones. As we all can't be perfect, I must mention this Gopher's two regrettable habits. First, like a sneak, he sometimes turns the radio on in the middle of the night (especially if they boys have been pushing its buttons and have inadvertently set the alarm). This habit does however confirm his existence in the minds of several family members. His second regrettable habit must be called "encouragement." When Corin is upset with one or another of us, Gopher often whispers inaudible unmentionables in his ear. These Corin affirms with statements such as: "You're right, Gopher. What mom said is totally stupid."
Photograph by Gopher
Seth's Gopher joined us sometime in the past year, but what he's lacked in longevity he's made up in activity. As I mentioned in the last post, he is a handy hockey goalie. And as the weather is warming, we find he's equally skilled at soccer. He's industrious as well. I'm informed he has a job fixing cars with the grease monkeys at the end of the block. This Gopher is always up for trying new things: college last week, preschool this one. His age is variable - sometimes he is thirty-six and sometimes four, but just this Thursday I had it on good authority that he is exactly seven and seven quarters. Given the plasticity of his habits, he's a bit hard to pin down, but this serves his intrigue. Seth's Gopher has several sisters (I'm told one is trying to be my particular friend - an advance I'm staving off). As for bad habits, there is some discussion that a portion of the nighttime radio hi-jinks might be attributable to this Gopher. This is, however, a matter of great dispute.
Seth and Gopher Playing
So, friends, imaginary and otherwise, I hope you all are well. And I hope that you, too, have friends of variable age who reside under lilacs when the weather is amenable. They make life endlessly interesting. And, when it comes down to it, who doesn't need a friend to whisper in your ear or always be ready to take a turn in goal?
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Gray in Missoula today. But we've had sun: a week of intermittent glory, great blue shadows on Mount Sentinel (rather than winter's gray ones dribbling down the canyon) and songbirds shaking dust out of their calls. It is all welcome. Though this winter has been mild and almost snow-less, my thoughts still turn,when the clouds break, to spring . Sunshine recalls me to myself. It's odd, when the sun comes out, I invariably feel half myself has been missing and suddenly I've found it again. Life takes on a richer cast when punctuated with bright lit patches and deep blue shadows. But, the gray Missoula winters do serve their purpose in making me more aware of the rare full-spectrum days.
Things here are in pleasant routine. Other than the hiccup of strep throat from which Tim and I are both recovering, our weeks are passing with a nice rhythmic normalcy. Between school days and tae kwan do, lego building and drawing, the boys are mostly occupied. Corin's class recently had their 100th day party, celebrating, of course, 100 days of Kindergarten. He came home with a crown and a smile.
"I am 100 days smarter."
For his birthday, Seth was gifted a new hockey goal and sticks - a very fitting present for our athletaphilic child (Thanks Jeff and Elsie!). He has turned the house into an iceless rink and presses us all into service as his opponent. Seth's team, the Deers, has a roster of two, consisting of Seth and his imaginary friend, Gopher. Quite fortunately, Gopher is always willing to play goalie. The opposing team (usually me or Tim or my cousin Kara) is invariably the Spiders. Corin, necessarily, roots for the Spiders.
The Deers Offensive Line
Tim went to Ecuador in January, a trip with some of his favorite people in the world, a trip and landscape which filled him right up. He returned to a busy season at work: lots of new production, some staff changes, and the search for a new work space. Botanie has outgrown its shell. He just settled on a new location and now the work of moving (gently!) twenty thousand bars of curing soap commences. Did I mention how proud I am of him? This business used to be housed in our basement in Arlee and I melted oils on our kitchen stove. Now Botanie needs 5000 sqft of workspace, several employees, and kettles that hold hundreds of gallons. As if growing the soap empire isn't enough to keep him busy, Tim and a friend just launched another business, Northside Software. Northside has a brilliant product for tracking your laptop and locking down files in case its lifted. Check it out at www.nsidetrack.com.
As for me, I'm happy and well, working on some writing projects, taking some runs in the north hills and generally enjoying watching the days get longer. I've been thinking about Annie Dillard's perceptive little sentence: How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. And I am, as no doubt you are, trying to be aware of these days, as they come, wonderfully, one by one by one.
In my book, it's a great day ifwe get out for a walk. One of the nice things about living where we do is that when it comes to walking we have lots of options. Do we want a treed trail by the creek (perfect for a gray, wet day)? Do we need a walk in the open up the gulch (Sun!)? Do we want a climb and a vista (any weather will do)? Each of these walks works on me in a different way, but not one fails as a mood lifter. So, here's a few snaps from some recent walks. Enjoy. I did.
Walk #1
Walk #2
We found a fort!!
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Corin snapped this picture the other day. I love its simple lines and single palate. There is something about its spareness that I find restful without being dreary. Its wonderful really, this view he captured. It is our stairwell, a place I am always charging through - hauling heaps of laundry down, running up to retrieve socks for the boys, dashing down to answer the door/phone/child's tears. It took my son sharing his view for me to see the space in a new frame, to see its arching quietness and cathedral-like rise. Its been there all along, but thanks to Corin, I now know to pause and look up.
Things in these parts have been well. We All Hallows Eve'd it with the neighborhood, meeting friends from the Northside at the new Kettlehouse before everyone started their door-to-door rounds. Tim and the boys carved pumpkins while I put the last touches on Corin's costume (Vincent Vampire Bat from the Zoo Phonics program his kindergarten uses - at least that's what the five dollars of felt, glue, thread, and wire was meant to approximate). The boys had a great time, coming home red-nosed from the cold and bright-eyed with the haul.
Corin's pumpkin
Seth: a big helper
Vincent Vampire Bat and Fooball Guy
One more picture from Corin to finish off the post. Some days this is what I look for, just that bit of blue sky that makes all the difference.
