July Vacation 2011

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I watch my son grow.  In inches and pounds.

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But also in love and joy and even grief.  I see each year, that he loves his extended family more and more.  And as such, his grief is bigger each time we part.  For a mom who never saw her child grieve, it is a beautiful thing to watch big rivulets of shiny run down his ashy, tanned cheeks.  Tears were fears and cries were for old traumas. 

The pure, salty sadness of tears is delicious to my soul.

So Far Away

We held onto the last scrap of summer, refusing to believe that the corner of that shimmery scarf would slip out of our hands.  But all this week, I've awoken to temperatures in the mid-sixties.  It was cold enough for me to holler at Boo to wear a jacket, knowing full well it would be discarded on the play ground blacktop.  Summer is gone; Autumn is here.

But I recall the shimmery, soft scarf, its reality is with me.  Not sere nor not surreal, but real.

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Summer Days Gone By

Boo has expanded his preoccupations from elevators, fires stations and skyscrapers to include spiders, insects and dinosaurs.

So, on a coolish summer day, we took the train to 30th Street Station to the Academy of Natural Sciences.





















We ran away from some jaws, peeked through some skulls, took time to be a paleontologist and ate an awful lunch at awful prices.  (can I make a joke that the pizza must have been made during the dinosaur years??)

I had to carry all 60 lbs of him, and my the backpack across the length of the parking lot to our car...then home.

The Last Days of Summer

Hamming it up!

Hmmmmm!

The drink that refreshes!

Hello??

Love my dad...

Swan Boats in Boston's Public Gardens (co-ho co-ho!)

Kack, Lack, Mack, Nack, Ouck, Pack and Quack

Six Years

Armor All

The world is a sad, scary place.

In the weeks before Thanksgiving, I was inundated with the sadnesses of people I love: a mental ill child, families struggling with finances, a pastor overburdened with hurting people, a young woman who lost her husband, and then two weeks later lost her mother.  My aching body.  A large lump on my back.  A friend's dying father. 

I spend much too much time on here.  I stare at this:

The map inspires me.  I'm the kind of person that reads National Geographics cover to cover.  And Smithsonian.  It takes me places. The map makes me wonder where I can wander.  Like David running from Saul.  Bora Bora.  Come with me . . .

 Halfway between Baja and Australia.

 

...a part of French Polynesia.

 

But alas, Satan dwells there, too. I would only be like David running to the Philistines.  And I remember that I must armor myself against the evils of the world.

And I remember, I have only the Lord: He is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow.  And thank Him I don't have to pay $900 a night.

Back From Fishin

You understand that I did not fish. I did not fish. I do not fish. It was purely for the Boo. His uncle and one cousin came from Californiyay to fish at Cape Cod, where another uncle has a house and boats. Everyone should go get a relative with a vacation house.

I would like to declare that this vacation was a complete and utter success. You be the judge:

I think we're in New England:

Shaaaark!

He caught 7 fish!

Bike riding on the block:

Clamming:




Hermit crab. A record I think, at lasting a mere 4 hours before meeting its Maker.


Wellfleet



Goodbye picture: California uncle #1, cousin Stephie, Uncle #2:


Home to daddy!