the leap

My pistons are still firing on "random" so bear with me if you will. We had dinner with our neigbor Jean and her two kids last night. Her husband's been out of town, so it seemed like a little company and distraction would improve everybody's mood. It's an easy thing to do, order a pizza and hang out while the kids play. Despite the difference in their ages, Jean's son Zach (who's not yet three) and Callum are quite close. They are always asking to play together and coming up with crazy chase and crash games that prove to be clearly ageless.

I often think that Callum is helping Zach learn about being a boy, a big kid, and that Zach is helping Callum learn about patience and love. Sometimes it's hard to take when your much younger bud keeps running through your barely-dry masterpiece or tries to paint right where you are painting.

But really what I think is that Callum and Zach don't have to help each other learn anything. It's enough just to love and be loved.

We took a leap of love yesterday and put in an application on a dog at the local SPCA. When Lucy-the-hound moved in we had a Grand Old Lady in residence named Phoebe. Pheebs was our first dog as a couple, she came to our wedding and moved across the country with us twice. She was nearly 15 when she died in February, and I still feel her loss quite acutely. What we did learn when Phoebe and Lucy shared this space is that we like having two dogs. A lot. Lucy would love the company, and I'd like to hear the steady click of another set of toenails on the hardwood. We've had a couple of misses on the search for our second pup, and this may prove to be another one. "Mandy" already has another application on her, we're the second. We won't know until Friday. Seems like a long time to wait. I'm trying hard to find that precarious place between feeling positive and desperate. To trust that if this is the dog for us, she will be ours. And if not, to know that all that matters is that Miss Mandy finds love and that our pup is still out there waiting. But oh, she was so sweet...

So here I sit, frozen between hopeful and desperate. Fingers crossed.

And really...

...it's not as if I don't have plenty to say. Those of you who know me in "Real Life" know that I always have plenty to say. Mostly it's that I don't really have the time to craft something to say. Today. So I downloaded the few pictures I took over the weekend, and, loosely connected, here they are.

Here's the sky before a storm we had a few nights ago. The world turned yellow at first, which was a bit concerning, but aside from some major lightening and wind, we didn't get much.

Neel trimmed some trees over the weekend, and Callum promptly turned this into a shelter a la Man vs. Wild.

The weather has been of interest around these parts lately. The storms earlier in the week ushered in some days of low humidity and low(er) temps. Nice treat, mid July, I'm telling you! We went to the beach with some friends for dinner last night and were greeted with frothy seas and blustery winds. After the gas ran out on the grill, we (shivering) packed it in and headed home.

The kids had fun though...Callum's showing us how big the waves really were.

Finally, I'm adding a book to the list on the sidebar. If you are mother to a son, are married to a son or are a son I can't recommend this book highly enough. Seriously. Girls need it too. This book teaches everything from making slingshots to playing poker to several poems every boy should know and memorize. Callum loves it and reads it every night before bed. While I was at a doctor's appointment today, Neel and Callum made secret ink (it worked!). I mean it. Go get one.

30 is the new 20

Yesterday was my friend Rebecca's thirtieth birthday. (She's a baby.) I've said before that our neighborhood was tight, and Rebecca's mom invited all of us to her house for a surprise-ish birthday dinner. I say surprise-ish because even though we staggered our departures, Tyler gave her the hairy eyeball when she pulled out of her driveway before he did and she was instantly suspicious. Smart cookie, our Rebecca.

It's fascinating to me that people who grow up here don't tend to leave. I've lived in four different states since leaving home for college (and I have friends here who have nearly doubled that), but most of the folks we know in our neighborhood live just a matter of a couple of miles from the home where they grew up. While it's hard for me to imagine living in my old hometown, part of me envies being able to breeze into my parents' home, as comfortable there as I ever was.

Rebecca's parents' house is a real stunner. It's a gracious old Southern house in a gracious old Southern neighborhood. There's a beautiful formality to it that doesn't at all feel stuffy. A lot of these houses make it hard for me to imagine propping open the door with my butt while I flip through the mail and drop my keys on the counter. Hard to imagine my own day to day in such rich surroundings. This house is elegant, yes. But mostly warm and welcoming.

Her dad is an architect, and her mom has a great eye for design and color. Marry that with this uncanny ability to find the most gorgeous things at TJ Maxx and the Dollar Store and you have Jan's house. Sky-high ceilings don't hurt.

Dinner table, set for many.

Presents.

Cake.

They have this great wall where dozens and dozens of friends and family, cousins, brothers, aunts, neighbors and dogs have their height measured. Here's Callum showing how he's grown since the last time he was there. This is something else that I have trouble wrapping my head around. Staying in one place long enough to make a mark like this. I'm used to moving every 5-6 years, and when we were childless, I kind of liked it. I feel the tiniest bit itchy even now, just four years in. Will we stay in the little gray house forever? I don't know. Do I want to? Not sure of that either. It's like I have to adapt to long-term thinking. And that feels odd.

Just look at these lovely ladies. Color-coordinated no less. And in heels! Wow. This is something I'm not very good at yet. Dressing for dinner the way the Southern gals do. I wore a skirt, for sure, but with a plain white tee shirt. It's my uniform for summer. Not at all dressy, just cool and comfortable. I suppose I should have put on some lipstick. I wouldn't mind at all pulling on a dress or two. The heels, I'm not to sure about though.

Our hostesses' shoes. She matched the napkins too.

Unveiling, The Rebecca. (Oh my gosh, so flattered that she put it on right away!). Thank you, thank you to Jan and Bill for including us, and thank you, thank you to all of our wonderful friends who make me so happy just by being near. And to you dear Rebecca? Many, many happy returns of the day, my friend.

captain of the high seas

Sometime after Alfie has gone I'll spend some time here thinking about what summer vacations were like when I was growing up and what it's like to have summer vacation now. Really, we've been too busy going to movies, swimming in the beach, eating our dang fool heads off and watching a lot of this to waste time thinking about things.

After Alfie leaves tomorrow, there will be plenty of time to think about how lucky I am to live in a resort area of this country when a simple boatride up the coast can show me this...



It's the Atlantic Bottlenose Dolphin, in case you were wondering.

the few, the proud

Our friend James retired from the Marine Corps last week, and we were invited to a party to celebrate this great event.

Because these guys are distant neighbors (who also happen to be school mates of Callum's) we rode our bikes the ten blocks down to the party.

The food and drinks took up three front yards and the band was in the back. It was a perfect Southern summer party, with barbeque, beer and sno-cones.

Roxanne's yard is a dream. She has all sorts of secret sitting places and pathways. I definitely have yard-envy when I'm over there.

The kids ran from front to back playing transformers or tag. The music was perfect, a thread of steel drums running behind friends and family meeting and neighbors getting to know each other. This is Max, the Party Dog, complete with lei.

My favorite part was the sno-cones. Like any seven year old, I love a sno-cone. I managed to limit myself to one, but Callum had three.

While I was slurping sno-cones, a lot of the other adults were enjoying drinks more along these lines. Rum and coke anyone?

I followed these guys around a lot. Seriously, they never let go of each other's hand. Let me grow old this way...

Thanks for a great time guys, and congratulations "Sleepy". Welcome to civilian life...and here's to a great adventure opening up before you!