Grateful Friday

Today I give thanks for...

Summer is off to a great start. While it's true that the schedule looks a little intimidating with all the various games, tournaments, camps and such, so far everyone is where they should be when they should be and enjoying it too.

I'm pretty sure that Ted's golf pass has already paid for itself. He averages 18 holes a day and that's a conservative average.

Lily had a fun overnight with Grandma and Grandpa. They went on a boat trip in Lake Geneva, ate out and went shopping. Oh, and this time Catman didn't tear through the screen door to into the woods and away from her.

Lily and I are keeping busy with activities and outings, and slowly checking things off our summer bucket list. We spent a fun morning at one of our favorite places: Shalom, and a rainy day creating in the kitchen putting some of her new skills and techniques learned at cooking camp to use.

We fed all the animals. The raccoons especially loved the marshmallows we smuggled in. The bears too. Shhh.

 The baby arctic fox was the sweetest.

But the baby bobcat was a real close second.

We made her favorite vinaigrette, peasant bread, a roasted chicken and ice cream.

Ted pitched a complete game the other night leading the team to a victory against our arch rival.

Lily made the all star team and she's loving softball. She says yes to every invitation to sub, and pouts when games get rained out, which has been often.

We're getting acquainted with our new ice cream maker. She made a delicious pineapple mint sorbet and then we made an easy chocolate with our Droste cocoa. We're bringing it to the lake this weekend with hopes that there are still berries for picking at the nearby farm because fresh strawberry ice cream sounds perfect.

An extra hour of sleep in the morning without the hustle and bustle of wrangling tired tweens and teens. The morning feels so luxuriously long that I find myself lingering over a few chapters and then driving along the lake to work and then rushing so as not to be late. I'd really like to start working out in the morning to free up the evenings.

A walk with a friend at the start of my day off. We walked along the lake under broody skies that opened up just as we finished.

My goofballs.

A full weekend ahead. Paul Simon tonight and then Windmill Beach for some family fun in the sun.

A week off.

weekending

so i'm sensing a pattern here...

once again it's taken me until thursday to get to my weekending post.

life has been good and full.

and i've been too immersed in living it to write about it.

we kicked off the weekend friday with a little softball.

it was a beautiful night for it and lily impressed both grandma and grandpa who came to watch her play.

and win.

teddy had baseball saturday morning, and golf friday, saturday and sunday.
another pattern.

lily spent the day with a friend, and i have no idea where the day went.

at the end of it, mike made dough for the margherita pizza i was craving.

we watched a forgettable movie, but it was a perfect relaxing saturday night.

sunday we went for a river walk first thing.

the boys went to golf and lily went to softball.

i had a theatre date to see beautiful.

it was just that.

the music was amazing and nostalgic, but the message was really what blew me away...hold fast to your dreams.

the boys returned from golf and the girls from a little post show cocktail on a sunny, breezy rooftop.
we grilled burgers after dark and stayed up too late singing and scheming, but it was all good.
yes...a pattern.

weekending

it's getting harder to report here in a timely fashion.

if years are minutes, summer days are mere seconds.

i swear it was just sunday night after a full weekend and now here we at thursday after a full week.

it was a full and near perfect weekend.

lily played lots of softball. 

mike coached and i watched, cheered and came home with sunburn.

her team went 2-2 in their first tournament proving that there is room to grow, but also solid fundamentals upon which to do so.

the girls looked pretty good, played quite well and seemed to have measurable fun.

teddy played many holes of golf.

he fixed his drive, worked out his putt and tweaked his iron shot (or maybe all 3).

i lose track.

we also celebrated with the special dads we are so lucky to have in our lives...his, mine, theirs.

mike's parents came for pizza after lily's saturday evening game and we had a quick, but nice visit.

teddy took his dad golfing while lily and i volunteered at concessions very early sunday morning.

then my dad and family joined us late afternoon for impromptu bbq ribs and a wiffle ball contest that lasted into the night.

now we're ready to do it all again this weekend.

Carefree Highway

I was driving to work today in my dad's old car. He's given it to Ted for the summer, but Ted doesn't drive stick yet so it's my car as I write. I'm fine with it. It's zippy, it has air and some of my favorite stations are programmed so just the touch of a button away.

This morning I unknowingly selected the preset for the oldies station and the song that got my attention was Gordon Lightfoot's Carefree Highway. I had to hold my breath to stop the tears that wanted to free fall because suddenly I was a kid myself sitting in the back seat on a road trip. I do a great deal of time travel in the car.

****************************************************

It's a cloudy day and we're all crammed to the gills in the car with our gear after a day of cross country skiing. We're wet and tired and happy. We're also hungry so we're headed to some dive bar where we'll enjoy a greasy reward for our hours on the trails. We'll laugh about how my brother wrapped himself around a tree at the bottom of a tricky hill. I'll get heat for chickening out. I removed my skis and traipsed down it unwilling to tempt his fate. We'll talk about the trails we'll tackle the next day before heading home, and we'll groan because my brother and I would rather go tobogganing or ice skating. We complain, but only until our gear dries and the snow flies and we start moving through the quiet woods.

***************************************************

It's as clear as yesterday though it happened several decades ago. It hasn't slipped away.

Everyday Life

I woke up this morning to the sound of thunder and the dense cloak of juiced air. I didn't want to get out of bed. Not even after more than 8 hours of sound almost dreamless sleep: sleep like the dead they say. I concur. Our bedroom felt like a moist meat locker: chilled, but still heavy with humidity. After 24 hours with no air conditioning, we were impatient and may have set the repaired thermometer somewhere below 70. Did I mention we're in a heat wave? Record breaking heat wave is what they say. 

I planned to get a workout in before work. With no one to get out the door but myself, I even thought I'd still get to work early after a few miles. The truth is I was 10 minutes late and I didn't break a sweat. Instead I lingered in bed, I read a few chapters and I brushed my boys. Best laid plans is all I've got to say.

The day felt agonizingly long. My focus was roving. My mood arbitrary, but intense. That translates as fragile. I'm feeling everything. Too much. All the time. It's overwhelming and exhausting.

So exhausting that I had to come home and chill out with a few chapters until I faded into an easy sleep. Mentally, I know what I need is to shut down. Reboot. When I wake after 20 maybe 30 minutes, it was to the sound of dueling mowers. It sounds like everyone on the block is out mowing at once. It sounds like summer. I feel like a hundred bucks. I'm aiming for a million.

After dropping Miss Bit at her softball practice, I stopped to catch a few innings of Ted's game. It's simpatico to catch up with the other moms. I forget how easy relationships are with the moms of boys. We are all on the same team just like our boys. 

The fog rolled in off the lake and the temperature plummeted at least 10 degrees. Suddenly we're shivering again and also reminded that a slight shift in direction can evoke big change. A slim shift in attitude can make a big difference as well. So can a kind word, a hug, an act of solidarity.

The boys lost their first game yet this season, but they'll play another game tomorrow against a big rival and we'll all be there to support them another night. They may win, they may lose, but all that's important as cliche as it sounds is that they show up, give their best and have lots of fun in the process. It's what I'm working toward myself.

weekending...in an instagram

Middle Age

It's the cats' mission most mornings to get me out of bed soon after the sun rises. Of course, shortly after I rise, they are back to sound sleep, yet I appreciate the wake up call (or pat, purr, or massage) because in my middle age I have become a faithful and studied connoisseur of Sunday morning solitude. I'm no longer a night owl, but rather a proudly self-proclaimed early bird. Take as proof the fact that I fell asleep about 15 minutes into our movie last night and Miss Bit has the video to back it up.

As I got up out of bed this morning, so many muscles revolted. I felt every squat, bend, lift and reach from the hours of yard work we took on yesterday. It's a good pain: the reminder of hard labor. I've never been a gardener and I don't call myself one now. I don't like dirt and I'm scared of bugs. There are numerous witnessed accounts of spiders running toward me or jumping on me when they should be running for their lives and away. 

Yet I've grown to appreciate the planting of beautiful living things that will grow year after year. It's another measure of middle age and it makes sense. Gardening requires patience, vision, faith, resolve and commitment: all very mature characteristics. I've made 4 stops to 2 nurseries, and my husband 2 trips himself. I have to go back at least once today. I spent so long perusing plants one spree that I came home with sunburn. I don't know much about plants or flowers so I read and ask questions and then I finally just pull the trigger and dig the holes. Well, Mike digs the holes. We water every day, fertilize once in awhile and then hope that everything will take, flower and ultimately survive. All of this is, of course, the perfect metaphor for life.

After gardening all 90 degree day long (thank you Mother Nature for the strong and steady southwest breeze though), we took an impromptu road trip to Windmill Beach yesterday late afternoon to cool off in Lake Michigan and catch up with family. We donned suits, grabbed towels and piled into Mike's new car (yes, his BMW was totaled), and I even surprised myself. This sudden surge of spontaneity may or may not be attributable to middle age. One certainly cannot rule out the phenomenon known as summer state of mind. 

And it felt like summer after the wind shifted back to the southwest. We dug our toes in the hot sand and sat around the fire pit we didn't need. I dipped my toes in the lake and declared it too cold, but before long I took the Walk of Death (WOD), but really it's the walk of life because the water is so refreshing and energizing. I pretty much walked in and under which is a freak of nature...my nature. Of course, I dove in with my sunglasses on my head on a wavy day so I made an offering to the lake. I was rather nonplussed by losing my favorite Ray Bans and that is a touchstone of middle age (and chardonnay). You dive into the lake with glasses on your head, you're going to lose them. Stupid actions have unpleasant consequences, and they're only glasses. Yada yada. My brother promised to walk the beach this morning to see if the surf spit them out. I had a vivid, convincing dream that he found them. We'll see. If not, I hope the someone who finds them feels lucky and looks good when they wear them.