- Run a half marathon.
- Check out the sales at Macy’s.
- Buy nothing. You really don’t need a thing.
- Have dinner out.
- Get a pedicure.
- Go to bed early.
- Eat a delicious salad.
- Take a run.
- Have a beer.
- And a shot.
- Laze in bed an extra 20 minutes.
- Feed the birds.
- Put on a pretty white linen dress (because it’s still summer, at least for today).
- Read birthday messages on Facebook.
- Try not to listen to the news of the latest unarmed black man being killed by the police.
- Charge the battery for your 35mm camera. You’ll need it.
- Have a hot flash.
- Ask your flag waving children to fly the Irish flag just for today in your honor.
- Arrange to have a carrot cake baked by the same friend who made your wedding cake.
- Order 15 pizzas from DeFazio’s.
- Open the sunroof on your car on the way to work.
- Turn up the radio.
- Treat yourself to a blow out – that’s blow out, guys.
- Imagine that Elizabeth Warren was running for President.
- Have a hot flash.
- Eat tasty treats from your coworkers.
- Read birthday messages on Facebook again.
- Take phone calls from both the friend who has been there for 35 years and the one you hope sticks around for the next 35.
- Accept happy birthday greetings from dozens of middle school students after your birthday is announced over the school PA system.
- Wear the beautiful necklace you had made for yourself.
- Remove the modesty-lending shirt over your pretty dress because of another hot flash.
- Book Talk challenged books to 8th grade students and watch them become agitated about censorship.
- Glance out the window at the cloudless, blue skies.
- Hope, just this once, that time moves just a little faster for the next 60 minutes only.
- Pound water in anticipation of the evening’s libations.
- Crave a coffee.
- Figure out a way to swing by Starbucks between school and a salon appointment.
- Get excited thinking about having so many loved ones in one spot.
- Wish Jeter could come, too.
- Get home in time to freshen up and gather loved ones together.
- Take a walk with your brother.
- Mingle and mix with folks from all corners of your life.
- Beam with pride watching your children do the same.
- Toast repeatedly with gifted Prosecco.
- Worry when the pizza is late.
- Remind yourself that it isn’t your fault.
- Sigh with happiness. Best birthday ever.
I haven’t been so excited about a birthday since my 30th, which was just shy of 20 years ago. Then, I was a newlywed, in love and pregnant with my oldest son. I had my first “real” job as a school librarian and we celebrated with a dinner party at a wonderful restaurant with friends and family. Those memories make me smile. Life was good.
This one, though, is different. I mean I think it is.
I’m no longer married, so that’s an obvious and major change. As I plan a celebration for my upcoming milestone, I can’t help but recall that the task for organizing my last decade birthday party was also my responsibility. Not everything changes. My birthing days are behind me and the void has been filled by hot flashes and skinny jeans without front panels made from elastic. In a couple of weeks, I’ll begin my 21st year as a librarian and I am starting to imagine what might come next professionally. It’s exciting. Life is good.
I don’t feel like I imagined 50 would be. The number isn’t scary to me or overwhelming or sad. In fact, it feels like a wonderful new decade filled with opportunity and a sense of capability that can only come from years of surviving and thriving. It’s beckoning and I can’t wait.
Proving that there is indeed never a dull moment, minutes before I was planning to leave for work on Friday, Jeter sidled up to me with an eye well on its way to being grotesquely swollen shut. Since I had just taken him outdoors not 30 minutes previously, I was at a loss as to what might be the problem. A quick Google image search (dog swollen eye) and I had my presumed answer – bee sting.
Never having dealt with this before, I didn’t know what to do. This is my usual response in medical emergencies, by the way. As Jeter’s eye continued to disappear behind a balloon of fluid, I decided to phone our vet, Boght Veterinary Clinic never expecting a response to my call since it was after 5:00. Well, was I most pleasantly surprised…
The woman who answered the phone was exactly what I needed – informative, helpful and wonderfully competent. I explained the issue, adding details about his demeanor (normal), breathing (also normal) and the appearance of his eye (gross, but apparently not abnormal when stung by a bee). I was placed on hold for a few minutes while the receptionist consulted with the Doctor. On her return, I was offered a couple of options: 1. Bring Jeter in as soon as I could get there, even though the office was now closed and it would take at least 30 minutes in Friday evening traffic to get there. 2. Take Jeter to the nearby emergency veterinary hospital or 3. Give him three 25 mg tabs of Benadryl. I went with number 3.
Here’s the thing, so many veterinary practices would have not made themselves available beyond regular hours, might have insisted that I take him to an emergency facility for treatment and would not have so willingly recommended a dosage of over the counter medication. Their reasonable and pragmatic care, dispensed with the caveat that medical advice over the phone is less than ideal, was yet another example of why I have been loyal to this practice for more than 25 years.
Saturday morning, Jeter’s eye was almost back to normal. He was his usual bouncy guy self, except for one thing – he seems to be afraid of grass! For whatever reason, it seems that Jeter is associating the lawn with the bee sting. It’s kind of silly because I’m convinced he got stung on the back deck, but he’s holding firm to this new phobia and refuses to step foot on the grass choosing instead to walk on sidewalks, driveways and in the street. It’s ridiculous! Any tips for getting my boy back on the grass?
All grilled up and ready to go.
Summer at my house is a very different beast this year. A big part of it, of course, is Lark + Lily and the related demands of owning a business. But, there’s more. My two teenaged sons, perhaps in an attempt to make up for lost time, are each working two jobs. With our combined three schedules, family time has become increasingly rare and I’m trying to adjust to catching mere glimpses of my boys as they fulfill their responsibilities. It’s definitely different.
Yesterday evening, as I was preparing dinner, I asked my oldest son to text his brother to let him know that family dinner was at 5:00 and that he would be disinherited if he failed to join us. In response, middle son asked what was on the menu.* Upon being apprised of my dinner plan (pasta with grilled vegetables and sausage), he decided that he would prefer to eat with his friends at Bombers. I jokingly told him to change his name now that he was no longer in our family. Not one to miss a trick, he introduced himself as Griffin Bomber. Congratulations, Matt! It’s a boy!
Ingredients: 1 medium summer squash, 1 medium zucchini, 10-12 oz sliced mushrooms, 1 Vidalia or other sweet onion, 8-10 Italian sausages (hot, sweet or combination), fresh basil or spinach, Pellegrino Italian seasoning, 8oz cooked al dente pasta – reserve 1/2-3/4 c pasta cooking water.
Slice squash and zucchini lengthwise into 1/4″ pieces. Season with salt, olive oil and Pellegrino seasoning. Slice onion into 1/4″ rounds. Grill vegetables (other than mushrooms and spinach) along with sausages over medium heat. Sauté mushrooms in a combination of butter and olive oil until soft. When sausage are at a temperature to be handled, slice into 1″ rounds. Place sausage and all vegetables, including any remaining liquid from the mushroom pan, in a large bowl with pasta, spinach and/or basil, and reserved pasta cooking water and toss. Season to taste with salt and pepper and serve with grated cheese. Super delicious, seasonal and way easier than parenting.
*This is the kind of bs one faces when they expose their children to the world of restaurants from a young age.
Soccer season is nearly over and, for the first time in a long time, it felt like it went by really fast. That’s probably because I’m guilty for making it to too few games for my son who plays travel, and the rec season is actually fairly short with only 6 or 7 weeks games. Either way, when it’s over I will enjoy my Saturday mornings and Tuesday evenings, but they will be lacking in structure without a game to work into the schedule.
Quinn’s spring season was memorable because this was the year that he wore a hand me down keeper’s jersey. Liam and I had brought it back from Germany 3 years ago for my middle son. It was still a bit generous in the sleeve length for my 11 year-old but he insisted upon wearing it each game, regardless of temperature. One week, it was close to 85 degrees and still he wore it – underneath his team t-shirt in case he got called up to play keeper. It was the cutest thing ever.
I swear I don’t know how that jersey can be even close to fitting him. I mean, the shirt looked so big three years ago when my boys were three years smaller. Now, only one son is still to grow into it while the other two are already grown beyond. Just like that. *snap*
As I was mulling over this curious case of time passing quickly and folks growing, I reached for a pair of shorts I bought a few years. They’re blue and white gingham, which, I think, epitomizes summer just like madras and pink lemonade. I pulled them on and up, nervous as always that they would no longer fit for one reason or another. They did. Sort of.
Somehow over the last winter, I grew, too. Not taller or wider or heavier, but a wee bit older. Old enough, actually, to now be too old to wear the checked short shorts that still fit me perfectly – other than the length. I felt absolutely exposed in them in a way that made me uncomfortable. Somehow they had grown too young for me – just like that. *snap.*
Growing up and growing older, that’s the long and short of it.
I grew up during a time when house parties were the rage. Going out was something rare, but adults gathering for cocktails, pinochle and televised boxing matches was a big part of my childhood. I loved those nights filled with Lipton onion soup mix dip and chips with a side of ginger ale and grown up laughter. Knowing my place as a child among adults was incredibly comforting and I was careful to never misbehave and threaten my admission to an evening that I could only interpret as being sophisticated.
I have one particular memory of watching a heavyweight boxing match, the Thrila in Manila. Manila, naturally, being a place I had never ever heard of prior to the bout. We were at a home that I also don’t think I ever had been in before. The house and the enclosed front porch were made from big cold looking stones but it was cozy in a way that a new place doesn’t often feel.
The television everyone gathered around was big for the time, probably 27″, and color, something that was not necessarily a given during my youngest years. In my mind’s eye, I see rabbit ears, but I may be embellishing after 40 years and a collection of memories too large to properly sort. What I know for certain is that I fell in love with boxing that night.
The hype for the match was nothing compared to the media blitzes to which we’ve all grown accustomed, but I know I was aware of the fight, even as an elementary school student, because it was going to be an event. And it was. Ali was swagger before the word existed. He fascinated me with his larger than life persona and I was spellbound. He won – the match and my eternal interest.
When I learned more about him, about his radical anti-war activities and steadfast conviction to his beliefs, I could only admire Ali more. He and Jimmy Carter will always somehow go together in my mind – the era, I suppose. Like Carter, Ali was an ambassador to worlds not yet in existence, peaceful places where priorities were more about taking care of people than taking people down and out. It sounds like a nice place. I hope the Louisville Lip is enjoying it as we speak.
For the first time in 18 years I don’t have summer accommodations booked for Cape Cod. After last year’s trip, which took a lot out of all of us despite the great house and nearly all good company, and buying the restaurant which kind of put a new limit on the length of time I can be out of town, I had decided to wing it for Summer 2016, thinking I would keep my eyes open for maybe a last minute cancellation or other opportunity. Spontaneity is something I’m working on.
About 2 weeks ago I started getting antsy about not having a plan in place so I consulted with Aloysius and we both started looking for a suitable property. We were confined to a single week of the summer and despite that limitation, we found a house. Well, actually, two houses. Unfortunately, the owners of the first property, after responding that the house was indeed available for our desired week, seemingly dropped off the face of the earth never to be heard from again. House number two went even further – I paid a deposit, including a Jeter fee, and entered the dates on my calendar only to hear two days later that the house owners planned to occupy the place during the week we needed, thus, voiding our contract. Back to square zero…
So, now what to do? It seems that maybe the Cape isn’t meant to be the spot of our family vacation this year and I’m taking our lack of success as a sign from the universe to take a break from our usual summer destination, Wellfleet. The boys and I are talking about checking out some new places – perhaps a couple of days in Canada or a trip down to Mystic or egads, even the Jersey shore. I wouldn’t be opposed to a cabin in the Adirondacks for 2 or 3 nights, maybe on a lake? We’re thinking a couple of 2 or 3 day trips rather than the regular 2 weeks in a single area.
How about you? How is your summer shaping up? Any ideas to share with me about slightly offbeat, semi-low budget family destinations? We’re open – let me know!
Filed under Aloysius, Boys, Cape Cod, family, favorites, friends, road trips, Summer, travel, Uncategorized, vacation