Epic Summer Update -- Floydfest

Unfortunately we weren't able to ride out the weather and enjoy the last two days of Floydfest.  We woke up yesterday morning to a leaky tent and a forecast of rain for at least the next 24 hours.  Given that the girls would be cold and miserable, and we decided the best course was to head home and dry out for 36 hours before resuming our road trip (next stop:  Lancaster, PA).

I most hated to miss Michael Kiwanuka, Blitzen Trapper, Trampled by Turtles, and Ben Sollee (I only caught about 10 minutes of one of Sollee's sets and was planning to catch a full set later), but there definitely were some highlights in those first couple of days.  The back-to-back of Spirit Family Radio and Langhorne Slim & The Law to kick off the festival Thursday afternoon was awesome -- I was right at the front for those.  After dinner, Emelia joined me for an evening just the two of us.  First up was the Gogol Bordello set -- it was wonderfully frenetic, and Emelia had a great time with it -- dancing for part of the time and bouncing on my shoulders a little left her delighted.  Not surprisingly, her favorite tune was "Stop Wearing Purple."  We next went to the hula hoop place and hung out there a little bit -- the proprietress had befriended Emelia last year, and Emelia loved seeing her again (and again) this year.  We then walked around some, taking in the strange (to her) sights that start coming out in the evening -- last year Emelia was generally in bed by dark, so she delighted in seeing the funkier side of FF.

On Friday, I took in both sets of Jason Isbell, fully enjoying both performances.  The first was on the porch stage, a very small and intimate setting -- I got there early and was able to sit in the third row for it.  It was just Isbell, and he played a number of quieter tunes, and finished with a lovely cover of Townes Van Zandt's "Pancho & Lefty."  For the second one, on the main stage, I moved up to the front, and ran into my Turntable friend Lua -- I had first met her in person at last year's festival.  It was great seeing her again, and we both took in a fantastic full-band set from Isbell.  Lua had been expecting just to take in part of the show, but was wowed by Isbell, whom she didn't know especially well before the set.  It didn't hurt that accompanying Isbell was a musician that she knew and who was filling in (or just now joining the band, something Isbell indicated when Lua asked him during the merchandise signing after the show) as the second guitar.

All-in-all, a shorter and less wonderful event than I would have wanted, but I/we still had a great time while we were there.

Emelia's Hoop Tower

Love is all you need

All dressed up at the Children's Universe

Getting feathers in her hair (as of this moment, they're still around)

The family during a more contemplative moment

Epic Summer Update 1 -- MUSIC!!

We're just getting started on our summer, and it's kicked off with a feast of music.  

A week ago Thursday, my friend Tom and I went to see The National.  We tailgated some beforehand, as the rain rolled into the area.  When we went into Merriweather, we found our seats -- in the center of row 9, i.e., great location!  But then when the opening band, The Dirty Projectors, started up, we started to worry some.  They sounded awful -- the bass overpowered everything, lots of distortion.  We went outside and on the speakers outside of the tent it sounded much cleaner.  Not that we enjoyed it any more -- the harmonic dissonance (or whatever you want to call it) of the the band's vocals didn't appeal to either of us.  When The National finally took the stage, we were relieved to hear that the acoustics were excellent, despite what we heard from the opener.  

And the show was fantastic.  I would have preferred more songs from Boxer than we heard, and I didn't think much of one of the new songs, Fireproof, but no real complaints.  The closing trio of Mr. November, Terrible Love, and acoustic Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks was the highlight of my evening.  Evidently it's a common close-out for them, but as I hadn't seen them before, I was delighted.

The National (photo by Tom)

 
This past weekend, we finally made it up to the Clearwater Festival, a music festival on the Hudson River, created by Pete Seeger to restore the Hudson and keep it clean.  Our friends Kim and Larry have been pushing us to join them for years, but in the past we'd always had a conflict in our schedule. 

On Saturday our families went up there (our friends have two children as well), hung out in the back of the main stage area, and took the kids on little trips around the festival to see other attractions.  We also met up with friends of Kathy from back home, who also came for the festival.  The acoustics were great, even as far away as we were, but because I wasn't really able to see anyone, in many ways it didn't really feel like we were at a concert.  

Non-musical aside:  Later in the day, while the kids were playing at the beach, I was hanging at our base camp, and a lightning bug landed on my arm.  And started crawling along my arm, and hand, and fingers.  After around 20 minutes, I jokingly named it Sparky.  And when my family returned, I told Emelia that we had a pet firefly.  Since our dog Nora had died in January, we had been petless.  We're planning to get a dog at the end of the summer, when we stop traveling, but I had it in me to joke about having Sparky the firefly be our pet instead of getting a dog.  And Emelia jumped right on board with that idea.  She loves bugs of all varieties -- in fact, she was a pillbug for Halloween!  Kathy sent me to get dinner for the family, so I let Sparky climb onto Emelia's arm, and away I went.  I know I should have seen it coming, but I didn't -- upon my return Emelia was sobbing in Kathy's lap because Sparky had flown away in my absence.  I mean, it was inevitable that Sparky would leave at dusk, but poor Emelia hadn't thought about it (and of course, I hadn't thought about what that inevitability would do to Emelia).  Until I returned, Emelia had been doubly burdened, because she thought I'd be mad at her because Sparky flew away while in her care.  Kathy and I both did what we could to assure her that Sparky would be happier there where it lived, among its brothers and sisters, but it took quite a while to ease my daughter's mind.  Needless to say, Kathy has threatened to kill me if I ever do something like that again.

The sets I saw that day, in whole or in part -- 

• Judy Collins
• Antibalas
• The Lone Bellow
• David Bromberg Quintet
• Acoustic Hot Tuna
• Mavis Staples

Sunday we got a sitter to watch the four kids, and it was just the adults.  Kathy really enjoyed the down time that came from not having the girls around.  Needless to say, we took in a lot more of the music, and also set up closer to the stage.  It also was far easier to go to other stages to see other acts.  In addition, I got to meet in real life one of my turntable.fm friends -- fun!  The musical highlight of the day was seeing Jason Isbell, whose new album, Southeastern, is one I've been listening to constantly since before it came out last week.  A special bonus was having Patterson Hood, frontman of the Drive-By Truckers (Isbell's former band), join Isbell on stage, and then having Isbell return the favor during Hood's set.  Between those two sets and the closing performance by Son Volt, I was treated to a great afternoon of Americana.

Isbell (L) joining Hood (R) during Hood's set

The sets I saw on Sunday, in whole or in part --

• Buffy-Sainte Marie
• Pete Seeger and Lorre Wyatt
• Vieux Farke Toure
• Jason Isbell
• Patterson Hood Band
• Acoustic Hot Tuna and Pete Kimock
• Keller Williams and The Travelin' McCourys
• Son Volt

Relaxing on Sunday at Clearwater

We drove home on Monday, and after dinner I went out to one more show, this time with Mike Doughty opening for Low.  I got there right before the doors opened, and plopped down in the middle of the third row.  I was pretty beat from the weekend, but I'm very glad I went -- Low was fantastic.  Surprisingly, they also were happy -- frontman Alan Sparhawk isn't known for being warm, but he really did warm up and engage with the small crowd that saw them.  As for Doughty, I like how he sounds, but unfortunately, his songs lacked variety stylistically, and so got fairly boring all too quickly.

My next show isn't for another few weeks, which is a good thing, because I could use the rest.  Not that I'm getting any -- the next part of Epic Summer kicks off tomorrow morning with a 6:10am flight out of BWI.

Epic Summer

The best summer of your life is supposed to take place sometime in your childhood.  You’re off all summer long, going swimming most days, you have a great time at summer camp, and your parents scheduled an amazing 10-day vacation that included going to the beach &/or the mountains &/or an amusement park.  Maybe it’s when you’re six, or perhaps when you’re 13 (right before you’re supposed to make money during the summer), but at whatever age it does occur, it’s unquestionably during your youth.  It isn’t supposed to happen during the summer you turn 45.

But why shouldn’t it?  Kathy’s been a Stay at Home Mom for the past two years and will be going back to work in the Fall.  In the future, the kids are going to want to do their own thing, and Kathy’s time will be limited by work.  I’ve accrued lots of leave over the years, and I can’t imagine a better time to take a chunk of it.  Accordingly, I have dubbed this summer Epic Summer©, and we will be spending it camping, beaching, mountaining, flying, reunioning, amusement parking, music festivaling, swimming and....

How Epic does it look?  In April the parents of one of Emelia’s classmates invited us to join them for any weekend over the summer at their family place on the Jersey Shore.  We had to turn them down because the only weekends we had left are the ones that you need every so often to do things like laundry (Kathy is hoping to go up there with the girls during part of a week when I’m working, but I’m skeptical that she’ll pull it off).  It’s at the point where this weekend and next are the last consecutive weekends we have at home until September.

The Thursday before Memorial Day weekend is when we kicked things off.  On that day, Emelia and I drove to Mt. Catoctin for a school overnight trip, spending quality time and sleeping just the two of us in one of the screen-only cabins (we shared a bunk bed).  We loved being there and with each other -- we made meals together, did activities organized by her teachers, read a book to each other, told a story I had written together at the campfire, and much more.  We overcame the adversity caused by her too-tight water boots irritating her foot enough that she couldn’t walk for a few hours.  The heavy rain was kind enough to come just as we were turning in and leave before we got up.  The cold weather behind that front made the morning chilly, but couldn’t dampen our spirits, particularly with Emelia’s foot feeling ok again.

Emelia Hard at Work Mapping the Goon

We left Catoctin just before Noon on Friday, racing back to Capitol Hill to get Kathy and Hannah, and load up the car to go camping at Cape Henlopen State Park, just north of Rehoboth, in Delaware.  The beach traffic made the trip long, and the strong winds we found upon our arrival made setting up camp more than a little difficult -- we had to enlist Emelia to help set up the tent, because the wind made it more than a two-person job.  Once we got past those two challenges, however, we had a great time.  We were in a group of 30+ campsites set up by a work acquaintance -- mostly families, with plenty of kids Hannah’s and Emelia’s ages.  Common dinners, campfires, and hanging out, but plenty of time for our nuclear family to do things by ourselves.  We went to the beach briefly a couple of times in the unseasonably cool (but very sunny) weather, and did a nature walk as well.  We had a great time, and figure to return next Memorial Day weekend, hopefully even bringing other friends along.

Two Sweet Peas Girls in a Pod Hammock

Things are quiet the next couple of weeks.  I’m going to a concert (The National with The Dirty Projectors opening) this Thursday, and Emelia’s last day of school is the following day, but that’s about it.  After that, however, here are how things are shaping up:

• June 14-17 -- drive to New York for the Clearwater Festival (June 15 & 16) with friends
• June 17 -- see Low in concert (Michael Doughty opening) (just me)
• June 20-26 -- fly to Minnesota for Kathy’s college reunion, plus a couple of days to enjoy Minneapolis
• July 4 -- drive to Raleigh to visit friends
• July 6 -- drive to Hilton Head for our annual trip with my side of the family (my parents, siblings, nieces and nephews), at a disgustingly over-the-top amazing house on the beach (thanks Mom and Dad!).
• July 7 -- My 45th Birthday
• July 10 -- My sister gets married
• July 13-14 -- drive back home via Raleigh
• July 18 -- see Sallie Ford & The Sound Outside in concert (just me)
• July 23 -- see Bob Dylan, My Morning Jacket, Wilco & Ryan Bingham with family and friends
• July 24 - August 11 -- Roadtrip
• July 24-29 -- Floydfest, camping at a music festival on the Blue Ridge Parkway
• July 29-August 1 -- Lancaster, PA for Dutch Wonderland and other local activities
• August 1-3 -- Visit someone TBD as we head North
• August 3-10 -- Stay with friends at a very rustic cabin in Central Maine
• August 10-11 -- Head back home
• August 16-18 -- Campground Brewdown in Central PA.  Likely but not certain.
• August 19 -- Presumably Hannah’s first day of school
• August 31-September 2 -- Labor Day weekend camping at Big Meadows with friends
• September 3 -- The official end of Epic Summer©.  Emelia’s first day of school, Kathy’s first day of work

I hope everyone else’s Summer will be every bit as Epic as ours looks to be!

Damn -- has it already been a month?!

Guess I need to post something, so here's a video of Emelia at her cousin Karolina's birthday celebration while we were up in Stowe.

A Month of Reflection and Looking Ahead

Earlier this month I celebrated my birthday, and it was wonderful. Emelia was wholly engaged in the celebration -- wanting to open the cards with me, singing me Happy Birthday, and looking forward to/enjoying the cake. Kathy made my favorite breakfast, huevos motuleños (fried eggs over tortilla, black beans and peas, covered with green salsa and goat cheese (Kathy uses feta)), and for dinner took me to one of my favorite restaurants (Nam Viet in Arlington). And my gift from Kathy and Emelia was a year's worth of massages, an extravagance that will probably do me a world of good but which I would never bestow upon myself. The day was completely low-key, and it was all I needed -- Kathy had trouble believing me when I said how much I enjoyed myself. The fact that several dozen people wished me happy birthday on facebook was surprisingly satisfying as well -- I like to think that it gave me a taste of what it might have been like to have had a birthday during the school year instead of the summer.

As the day of my birthday approached, I reflected on the fact that it had been a year since my mugging. Hard to believe that it's only been a year, as it seems much longer ago. It doesn't seem to affect me on a day-to-day basis (heck, days go by when I don't even think about it), though it's possible my troubles sleeping are influenced by that event. It's slipped in among my life events to become one of the multitude of things that have gone into defining who I am, never becoming a singular something that defines me.

Also this month I hit the halfway point for eligibility for full federal retirement. Amazingly enough, I can get full retirement in less than another 16 years. I'm not really one of those people who obsesses over my retirement eligibility, but I get a reminder of it every year in my statement of benefits, and as a numbers geek I'm more than capable of dividing by two. Before we had Emelia, I used to daydream about early retirement, and fully contemplated retiring no later than my first opportunity for that full pension, a worst-case scenario. Full retirement at the first opportunity, however, is less than one-third of my salary, and like everyone else's, my 401(k) took a big hit with the market crash. And now we have Emelia, and my eligibility for full retirement coincides with the time that Emelia would be about to start college -- I don't know that we'd be able to get Emelia all the way through college on a pensioners' income, though it'd be plenty easy to take that income and find a job I might like more. However I do it, I expect to work longer than I once contemplated, but I no longer mind it as much -- with the arrival of Emelia, my mindset has shifted from having to work to set me up for life, to having to work to provide for my family. I'd be lying if I said there isn't a bit of wistfulness, but it's a trade-off that I've made and would gladly make again.

And that statement provides the segue to something that's been on my mind every day of the month, and then some. Earlier this week we reached a big milestone, the end of the first trimester of Kathy's pregnancy. Yes, that's right -- something that took so much effort the first time happened without so much as a visit to the fertility clinic this time. Child #2, a.k.a., the Groundhog,* is due at the start of February. Kathy's been having a harder time this go around -- last time she was stressed by the absence of symptoms, worrying that was a bad thing; and this time she's complaining about those very symptoms. I guess there's no pleasing some people. We had wanted to keep the news completely quiet during the first trimester, but figured we had to tell my family during the week at the beach given Kathy's symptoms (and the inability to provide any other reason why she would reject all of Josh's delectable alcoholic offerings). So then in the name of equality, we had to tell Kathy's family. And although the story's been slowly leaking out, we've kept things mostly quiet, and I suspect that many of you are hearing about it for the first time. Now that we're making that news public, I can talk about it on the blog -- it's been tough to offer posts on the blog given that I couldn't discuss that particular elephant in the room of my mind (said elephant currently weighs less than an ounce), but I'm hoping to write more frequently again.

--
* - Note that the use of the nickname The Groundhog is not meant to suggest that we would name a boy child Phil.

Hello Blogger My Old Friend...

...I've come to write on you again.

So I'm back. I thought I had nothing left to say that couldn't be covered in the twitter-like status updates on facebook. And maybe that was the case. But I decided that I still need to say it here, where I can store my footprints rather than have them wash away with the ebb and flow of all the other things that facebook compiles. The reason is simple -- I'm 40, and my daughter is 2. By the time she's 22, and maybe starting to learn about who her father is, I'll be a different person, and she'll never have known the person I am now. And I want her to have various anecdotes of who she was as a little girl, given that we'll undoubtedly have forgotten most of them unless they're recorded somewhere.

Of course, who I am as a blogger is not an accurate portrait of who I am -- it's what I choose/bother to share, and who I hold myself out to be in the public environment of this blog. Still, that'll have to do -- I have no desire to share everything.

And you the reader in the present are welcome to come along for the ride. It's a given that I'm writing for you too, not just future Emelia. Otherwise I could just keep a journal.
--
Now that that's out of the way, let's cover Hilton Head, where we spent the second week in June with my family for our annual vacation. Unlike last year, we drove down -- our direct flights being canceled last year, thereby requiring a connection, probably had something to do with it. Both coming and going, we stayed in Raleigh with our friends Margie and Chris, hitting a bit of the beer scene down there and seeing their new house (they closed on it the Friday we were in Hilton Head, meaning that we stayed in different places coming and going). They'll be up here this weekend for a wedding, and we're camping with them next weekend, meaning we'll be seeing them all four weekends in June. Seeing Margie, a college friend, was as close as I came to attending my 20th college reunion, as Hilton Head started the same weekend that was held.

Down in Hilton Head, the house we stayed at was amazing, as the family selection seems to be each year. We let others fight over the bedrooms with the ocean view, and grabbed the darkest room we could find in hope of sleeping in. It didn't work, as I think I was out of bed by 6:30 every morning except one.

The beach was lovely and the weather was pretty cooperative (mostly sunny, and only over 90 a couple of days). We had a good time for the first part of the week, and the absence of "Explosion Wednesday" that has been present in past years was a definite improvement. Still, by the end there was some strain, which probably started in earnest on Thursday with Dad's fixation on consuming the leftovers. If we had thought to turn his mention of them into a drinking game, maybe things would have stayed a little mellower, but I only just thought of it while typing this out. And besides, being plastered by 10am is not conducive to keeping up with children, of which six were present.

The newest child to enter the family's fold is three-month old Emily, daughter to my sister Shari. We met Emily on this trip, and she's a real cutie (and sweetie). Emelia loves babies, and she had been looking forward to meeting "Baby Emily" for months. The reality mostly seemed to meet her expectations. Throughout the week, Dad regularly interchanged the names of Emelia and Emily. I can't really blame him -- when we picked Emelia's name, we were concerned with picking a name that wasn't too close to others in the family, but Shari had her heart set on the name Emily for a long time, and stuck with it when the time came. As long as she keeps Emily west of the Rockies for the most part, I figure the country's big enough for both Emelia and Emily.

Emelia had a great time with her cousins -- she gets along with all of them (they all get along with each other), and at the end of the week, she was so sad that she had to say goodbye to everyone. Probably Emelia's favorite activity for the week was going in the pool, especially jumping in from the side and having one of us catch her. Her excitement at doing that resulted in her jumping a few times before the adult was ready for her, eventually resulting in stern lectures and time out of the pool because she forgot to ask if the adult was ready. Her next favorite activity was putting on various articles of her cousins' clothing -- she already has a shoe fetish that exceeds her mother's.*

Foodwise, easily the highlight of the week was the Dallas contingent's night in the kitchen. Kim started us off with afternoon queso that was delicious. For the actual meal, Josh led off with crabcakes that were fantastic. Next up was a tasty salad course that Josh and Hunter prepared that included a goat cheese medallion covered in crushed pecans. As for the main course, most people were served 3-inch thick steaks that received universal acclaim, while Hunter, Kathy and I went with 10-ounce tuna steaks that were some of the best I've ever had. After taking a bit of time to digest, Kim brought out poundcake topped with creamcheese frosting and fresh fruit -- fairly simple but so good. In case you're wondering what we did for our night of cooking, we volunteered to make dinner the night we arrived (4pm check-in), so we kept it simple with ground turkey tacos. Our meal was well received (as were all the other meals the various family members prepared, lasagna by Dad/Mom/Shari and BBQ chicken by Rebecca & John), but it certainly belonged in AA compared to Josh, Hunter, and Kim's major league offering.

So we survived another year, even thrived at times, and Josh and Kim get to pick next year's place. That they haven't already is something of a miracle considering how much Mom was looking at places for them to select. Collectively, our family is crazy enough to think that the destination should be all set up a full year in advance. Last night, Josh and Kim threw up their hands by sending around a list of six possible houses in four different locations, and seeking feedback. Our response is simple -- all the houses look lovely, and we'll be happy with whatever you choose. They're not getting out of their responsibility that easily!
--
* - At least it exceeds it now that Kathy's somewhat reformed.

A Very Long Post About Short Nights and Accompanying Days of the Holiday

On Night 1, Tuesday, December 23, I get back from picking up the rental car at around 6:45. Emelia is taking a late nap, and given how long the night would be, we let her sleep while we light the Chanukah candles and pack the car. She wakes up as we're finishing the packing, and we bring her down to open the rest of her major Chanukah presents so we don't have to take them up to Connecticut. After eating a quick dinner, we're able to get on the road by 8:15, already past when Emelia normally goes to sleep. Only an hour in, we stop for caffeine, figuring that most of it should have left our systems by the time we'd want to go to sleep upon arrival. While I'm inside the Rest Area, Kathy explains to the still-awake Emelia that Mommy and Daddy would need to stay awake, but that she should go to sleep. The incredibly empathetic child of ours is determined to bear the burden with us, and refuses to go to sleep despite our encouragement. In fact, whenever we push her to sleep, she pushes back, and in so doing stays up many hours past when she ever stays up. Finally, at 1am, she drifts to sleep, giving her about an hour before we stop at my in-laws house in Connecticut. She wakes up at that point, as we bring all the luggage in and get situated in the room we're staying in. The trundle bed designated for her is high enough off the ground that we don't want to risk her falling onto the tile floor, as she still sleeps with a bumper in her own bed. So at around 3am, I climb into the trundle, and Emelia sleeps in the queen bed with Kathy.

Day 1 begins at 7:15 when I awake to the light outside. I try to get the dogs out of the room quietly, but the room is cramped for three people and two dogs, and it's hard for me to get out of the room without waking Emelia. So soon everyone is up, and the day gets going. Emelia is able to take a three hour nap during the day, but that's not uncommon for her, and she still could have used many hours more. I sneak in about a 45 minute nap myself. Kathy's sister Suz gets home from work around 5:30, and she comes bearing a growler of IPA from the best brewery in the state. I thank her, and those of us who enjoy such beverages quickly consume the contents of the growler in their entirety.

Night 2 commences when we're able to get Emelia to bed around 8pm, as the excitement of Christmas Eve and all the presents in plain view has hit her. The small Chanukah present she opens does nothing to diminish her desire to open the multitude of presents sitting under the tree. The trundle has been moved out of the room, and Emelia sleeps on a single mattress that rests on the floor. Kathy heads to bed around 9, and I follow suit about an hour later.

At 5:15, Day 2, a.k.a., Christmas, begins when Emelia wakes up and won't go back to sleep, so the lot of us exit the room and have a leisurely morning. We tell Emelia she must wait for her Aunt Suzie to get up before we open the presents, and she's pretty good about that. All the same, when the presents are finally opened, I consider the change in Emelia's demeanor. At her birthday less than two months earlier, she had taken delight with each present, not entirely sure about the whole concept. But with the experiences of that event and the opening of Chanukah presents, she has moved into full-fledged present mode, where she wants more more more. Given that many presents remain, however, awaiting the return of Emelia's cousins from Christmas at their father's, Emelia's present thirst remains unslaked.

In the afternoon, we take a short walk with the dogs, all of us glad to stretch our legs, both for the simple sake of exercise, and to address the gluttony that accompanies the holidays at my in-laws, the result of Mom's delight in holiday mail-order foods, both main courses and desserts. Mom always makes full breakfasts, and although lunches are somewhat tamer, dessert follows it and most dinners. After we get back from the walk, we have a little down time before we head out the door for what is becoming our tradition of sushi for Christmas dinner. We had done Chinese for several years, in honor of my Jewish roots, but given that we all enjoy sushi much more, the tradition has changed. We are not alone, because although we had lit the candles for Chanukah before we left, people at another large table at the restaurant bring a menorah and do the prayers there.

Night 3 starts upon our return from dinner. Emelia goes to sleep as soon as we get back, but still it's after 8pm. Again Kathy goes to sleep before I do, but neither of us are ready for the 3am wake-up cries of Emelia after she fell out of bed. Kathy is the one who responds, but nothing she does is able to get Emelia to go back to sleep. I finally suggest bringing Emelia into our bed, and she settles right in after that, getting back to sleep around 4.

Day 3 starts around 7, when Emelia and I get up, along with the dogs, and leave Kathy to grab more shuteye. Kathy comes upstairs around 9. The day is uneventful but relaxing, as generally all the days have been.

Night 4 begins shortly after dinner. Emelia stays up for a little bit, but is rubbing her eyes and so to bed she goes. Kathy quickly follows suit, but I stay up for a while. When I finally decide to go to sleep, I have it in mind to sleep in my nephew's room with the dogs (he and his sisters don't return from their father's until Sunday night), hopefully letting everyone get a decent night of sleep. I come into the room to turn off the light Kathy left on for me, and when she stirs, I tell her my plan. Despite being fairly quiet, Emelia wakes up during my maneuver, and starts calling "Daddy." This was a new experience for me, as she generally wants Kathy when she's upset. The result is that I can't get out of the room without Emelia going into loud cries of "Daddy." I finally end up putting her into our bed and stay there with her, hoping to have her fall asleep so I can go back upstairs. No such luck, as every time I move she looks over to make sure I'm still there. The dogs by this point have come downstairs and I've put them into the room. Emelia starts positioning herself laterally, taking up more of the bed than can permit three of us to sleep together. I sneak off to the bathroom, and still she calls out for me, so I return and climb into her bed. I try to sleep, and according to Kathy I sleep for a bit (my snores gave me away), but it's not a restful sleep, and I resolve to go back upstairs to try to sleep, a sentiment Kathy encourages so she can sleep. Damned if Emelia doesn't start crying out after me again, and it's worse than fingernails on a chalkboard to have her cries tearing at me as I exit without answering them. Kathy comforts her successfully at last, and after a while of lying in my nephew's bed, I do in fact get all the way to sleep by 1am.

Day 4 begins around 6:15, and after lying in bed for a few minutes, realizing I won't fall back asleep, I hear Emelia downstairs. So I go down there, and relieve Kathy so she can go back to sleep. Kathy grabs another hour or so, and after breakfast, Emelia decides she neither wants to stay in her pajamas or get dressed. Thus, she spends half an hour giggling wildly while running around in nothing but her diaper. After we all finally get dressed, we hit the post office to send a misdirected Christmas present to Texas. Another day, another nap for me, and I actually clear an hour this time. Emelia tops that by a goodly amount, nearing four hours.

Night 5 begins optimistically, as Emelia goes to bed before 8, Kathy follows at 9, and I'm in bed by 10. All is well until Kathy has to go to the bathroom at 4:30, which wakes up Emelia. To stop the crying, Kathy brings her into bed with us, but she's really not interested in going back to sleep. However, she is enjoying kicking my stomach. Around 5:30, Kathy takes Emelia from the room, muttering something about us leaving Wednesday instead of Saturday, and I'm able to fall back asleep. Said sleep is ended shortly before 7, when Junebug decides that she needs my attention.

And here we are in Day 5. Kathy has rescinded her Wednesday departure statement, and Emelia is a whirling dervish of activity. I have no idea what the night will bring, but I expect the feeling of dread to start overwhelming me about the time we light the candles for the last night of Chanukah.

Louise, Inc. Annual Report

When Emelia was less than a month old, I took a photo of Emelia Louise together with her great-grandmother Louise, her grandmother Virginia Louise, and her Mom Katherine Louise. Today we got a chance to get the four of them together in a photo again, and while three of them don't look dramatically different, the littlest one is a lot less little.

Thanksgiving in Photos

Thanksgiving was at my folks' house in Clearwater, Florida this year. It was exhausting, but good. It almost seems like we're getting comfortable spending time as a family, something I wouldn't have guessed possible just a couple of years ago. Except for the pre-race photo, all of these pictures are from my new camera (and the pre-race photo is from Kathy's new camera). Generally i was quite pleased with the pictures I got, chalking up the ones that didn't come out right to user error.


Kathy reading to nieces Leynie and Lauren and nephew Hunter as my sister Shari looks on


Luke, Emelia's younger (by three months) cousin


Hunter


Leynie


Lauren


Most of us before the Thanksgiving Morning 5K (we walked)


My brother Josh with Emelia


My brother-in-law John with Leynie (his daughter)

MLS Cup 2007 was at RFK, so I went to Brooklyn

My sport is soccer, and I have a third row midfield season ticket to DC United. United had the best record during the regular season, but got eliminated in the first round of the playoffs. I had already purchased a ticket in my usual seat for this year's MLS Cup, which was being held here, but I didn't go.

My cousin Jeff has been a stage manager for various off-Broadway theater productions, and while someone might mistake that fact for his occupation (it isn't -- he's a high school English teacher in Brooklyn, a challenging task to say the least), it's much more accurate to say that role perfectly describes him. He's the guy behind the scenes who gets things done. That wasn't why I asked him to be my best man (technically he was also the maid-of-honor), but when I got sick the Friday before my Sunday wedding, that talent came to the fore when he and Kathy took care of the last-minute details. As it also did when little things needed taking care of at the wedding.

It's been a tough couple of months for Jeff. His father (my Dad's brother, Paul) died in September after a four-year battle with cancer. And for the last few months of his father's life and also during the aftermath, Jeff was shuttling down to Brevard, North Carolina, missing work to be there, helping his stepmom and being there for his sister. Both my Dad and I encouraged him to grieve for himself rather than continue his role as stage manager even then, but for Jeff that was easier said than done. There was a memorial service in Brevard at the end of October, to which Kathy, Emelia, and I went. As Kathy put it so succinctly, he's always been there for us, we should be there for him. During the ceremony, Jeff broke down when he was supposed to recite something, but later recovered in order to give an incredibly moving, eloquent, funny, and wholly spontaneous reflection on his father.

A couple of weeks after the memorial, Jeff's mom (my Aunt Faith) fell, shattering her left ankle, tearing all the ligaments and breaking her leg. As her only child, Jeff immediately dropped everything to be with her in New Jersey (Uncle Paul and Aunt Faith divorced when Jeff was a child), once again missing school, even though he had already fallen quite behind. After Aunt Faith's surgery, Jeff sent out an update to his friends, which said, among other things,

Beyond that my freaking birthday is next saturday and I could really really use time to see a bunch of people. I was just adjusting to my dad's death and trying to get myself back together this past weekend when i got the call about my mom.

It may not sound significant, but those two sentences were remarkable in that Jeff asked for help, rather than giving it. I gave my MLS ticket to a friend in the hope that he could sell it, and e-mailed Jeff's old roommate and best friend, Tony. I set it up with Tony to stay with him and his wife, and didn't tell Jeff I was coming. Tony suggested Jeff come over early to go out for dinner before heading to the bar where everyone was to meet up. Jeff's double take expression when he saw me was priceless, and the entire evening, from dinner on, was great. Tony observed that it was the most relaxed he had seen Jeff in about a year.

As for me, it was great to know that I was able to give something to him, and I didn't miss the game at all.


Jeff with Emelia in North Carolina

A Week in Maine

Several years ago, my Mom decided that she wanted to spend her inheritance on family vacations, and the decision on where to hold the annual vacation is rotated among the folks and their four children. In year one, my folks selected Crescent Beach, Florida, near where we grew up. For the second year, my brother selected the Outer Banks of North Carolina. My sister selected Myrtle Beach in year three. If you've noticed a trend, then you're not alone, so this year, when it was our turn, we decided to break out of the Southern beach rut and head north. We first started looking at Newfoundland and Nova Scotia -- as much as those places seemed like they'd be fantastic, we were unable to find houses that would contain all 14 of us (two parents, four children, three spouses, and five grandchildren), especially in the lifestyle to which my family had grown accustomed the past couple of years. Settling on Maine, we came across this house just south of Portland. The house even came with the all-important heated pool for the family members who wouldn't be up for swimming in the ocean so far north (and for the grandchildren too young to swim in the ocean).

Overall, I'd say it was probably our best family vacation yet. The house could have used a little more effort in the upkeep (e.g., sliding glass doors and screens that worked properly), but it was more than adequate, despite everyone not having private bathrooms like in years past. We got rain for a couple of days, but it never got too hot (or too cold). And this was about the extent of the complaints. People got along better than in past years, the beach itself was awesome, and the usual fights about food (e.g., eating out vs. cooking; and parental complaints about buying too much) never seemed to materialize, due partly to better planning this year.

With all the people around her, Emelia stayed pretty wound up. As a result, she slept poorly, meaning that Kathy (mostly) or I (occasionally) would be up with her while everyone else slept, and we got more tired as the week wore on. Still, it was great seeing Emelia interact with all of her first cousins. And I mean it when I say "all," because we had Suz's kids with us for three days -- their Dad lives in Maine, and he was nice enough to let them stay with us. It also meant that Hunter, my brother's son, had peers with him (with whom he got along great), instead of being over five years older than the next cousin (his sister). Having to supervise four kids instead of one sometimes felt a bit overwhelming, but Suz's children are generally great, though they did get a little grumpy the last day with us.


Emelia with her parents and all her first cousins. I'm holding Luke, three months Emelia's junior, whom we got to meet for the first time on this trip.


Josh, Kim, Hunter, and Lauren, at Cape Elizabeth (Two Lights), a must visit if you're ever in the area.


Josh, Mom, Aaron, Shari, Dad, and Rebecca

The Move, or, How Many Parentheticals Can I Stuff into a Single Post?

On Friday we head to Maine for the annual weekly family vacation with my family. We're heading up a day early and staying an extra couple of days, in case we need some down time that a week with my family may not provide (my brother's post from yesterday provides some indication on why we might need additional down time). As Kathy's been looking up possible things to do in the area for those extra days as well as the rest of the time we're in the general area, she's come to the conclusion that Portland's a pretty neat town. In fact, she's interested in moving there, and has already picked out the house she wants to move into (I said to her that I'd actually like to visit before making such a commitment).

We have a love/hate relationship with DC that probably is worth an entirely separate post if I could accurately put it into words. We like our house, and given inertia, it's easy to do nothing and stay here. But with the arrival of Emelia, time is no longer our ally. We're zoned for an awful school, which means that we can either try out a charter school (DC has a ton of them, and hopefully the next few years will provide some data on how good they actually are), spring for private school (o u c h !), hope that rezoning occurs (we're actually only a couple of blocks from a decent school -- it's just that we're zoned for the rotten one that's a tiny bit closer), take our chances and apply for an out-of-zone school (lottery process), keep our fingers crossed that the new school boss will do what none of her predecessors could (improve the public schools), consider homeschooling (don't laugh -- Kathy talks about it), or move. If we were to move, we could go a few blocks from here to get into a better school on Capitol Hill, move into one of the suburbs with a good school system, or leave the area altogether.

As for the latter option, moving somewhere else is something of a running joke with us that started several years before Emelia entered our lives. After the 2004 election we said we wanted to leave the country, and looked into the possibility of a number of places, particularly Canada. After our trip to Costa Rica the following year, we, along with Kathy's family (they went with us to Costa Rica), toyed with the idea of moving down there (given that the country abolished its army 50 years ago, what more could a Quaker family want)? From then on we've had talks with Kathy's family of creating a "family compound" somewhere, though these days it's usually somewhere in the U.S. Exactly where that compound would be has been the topic of many discussions. In February Kathy's folks took a two-week look around that extended from New York to North Carolina looking for rural land on which to move the family.

Even if there's no family compound, Kathy wants to live closer to her family. Of course, what will be closer to her family is something of an open question due to the variable that is Kathy's sister Suz. Suz has wanted to stay relatively North because her kids' Dad lives in Maine, but doesn't want to go too far North because she has Seasonal Affective Disorder. At the time we took a trip to New England in November 2005, that area was one of the ones in which Suz was interested (her boyfriend was attending school in that general area). But that boyfriend is now an ex, and Suz has recently found her soulmate who lives in northern New York (north of Syracuse, closer to Ottawa than anywhere anyone's ever heard of in New York) and doesn't want to move. So now she's focusing on that area (which is why Kathy sent around this property that we found last week), even though it's a couple of hours south of where the soulmate lives, eight hours from where Suz and the folks currently live, almost as far from her kids' Dad (google maps says the best route sends you through Montreal), and North of the farthest North she's ever lived. This isn't to say that Suz has made up her mind about moving out there (and these drawbacks are presumably why she's struggling with the decision).

Sometimes in considering possible move destinations, we decide that we don't want to be dependent on whether, when or where anyone else moves, and so we focus on places that interest us. Thus Portland, or Ithaca -- we do like the idea of being fairly close to some vestige of culture. Most of the time, however, our dreams take us into somewhere rural or small town, where housing is inexpensive, and we can toy with the idea of retiring out there (if we just put in a few more years, the stock market cooperates, we live much more frugally than we do now, and we win the lottery) rather than wrestle with what I as an administrative law attorney want to do when I grow up (or failing that, what I would do if I left the DC area). Then again, how good are the schools at any of these places?

Ah, decisions.

Family Photo

We're not great about taking photos of Emelia, but we've taken a fair number along the way. One thing we haven't done is take many (any?) photos of the three of us, so as far as I'm concerned, this photo, taken on Tuesday by a colleague of my Mom's, is a keeper. The colleague's name is Georgina, and while we were having our difficulties getting (and staying) pregnant, my Mom told me that Georgina's father was praying for us. We thought that was very thoughtful, never mind that neither of us are religious. Call it what you will -- coincidence, divine intervention, or something in between -- but we were rather surprised to learn, after Emelia was born, that Georgina's father's name is Emilio.

Carrot Kugel

(Amended 4-5-07)


4 eggs, separated
½ cup sugar
1 cup tightly packed grated carrots
¼ cup shredded peeled apple
¼ cup sweet red wine
2 tablespoons lemon juice
½ teaspoon grated lemon rind
1/3 cup potato starch
grease for the casserole

In a large mixing bowl, beat the egg yolks with the sugar until light. Add the grated carrots, shredded apple, wine, lemon juice and rind, and the potato starch. Blend well. In another bowl, beat the egg whites until stiff; fold them into the yolk mixture. Turn into a well-greased 1½-quart casserole. Bake for 35 minutes in a preheated 375o F oven or until nicely puffed and set. Serve hot or cold. Serves 6.

The Complete Passover Cookbook, Frances R. AvRutick, New York: Jonathan David Publishers, Inc. (1981).

My friend Barrett has been providing his delicious carrot kugel for the Seder we host for the past several years, but this year, with him in South Africa and us in Clearwater to be with my folks, Barrett would not be bringing his kugel to our Seder. Fortunately, Barrett is a kind soul, and e-mailed the recipe (shown above). What with the 22-person Seder the following night, that meant doing a triple batch. In the hands of an experienced baker, this recipe wouldn't be anything special, but with Kathy committed to making her amazing matzo balls, Mom and I attacked it.

First we needed to overcome the fact that potato starch wasn't available at either of the supermarkets near where the folks lived. We substituted potato pancake mix, as potato starch is the second ingredient in the mix (behind potatoes). Grating carrots was done in the blender, but the baby carrots on top didn't get grated, so after a few rounds of putting a few carrots in a time, I decided to put more in, pushing the ones on top down with a wooden spoon. Consequently, we had a dash of wood chip in our version. Neither Mom nor I know how to separate egg yolks, so Kathy stepped in, and got us our egg whites. Unfortunately, she hadn't read the recipe, and assumed that we didn't also need the egg yolks, and so dumped them. To the store she went for more eggs. While she was out, sans cell phone, we took the one lemon that Dad had bought and discovered it didn't produce enough rind or juice. Upon Kathy's return, she repeated the egg separation process, and we added the sugar to the whites. Mom had trouble getting the mixture to the right consistency, so Kathy proceeded to mix it, accidentally spilling a good chunk of it right around the time I realized that the sugar should have been mixed in with the yolks rather than the whites.

After all that, we shrugged, said we did the best we could, or even if not, we weren't up for throwing everything out and starting from scratch. Into the oven the kugel went, we handled the baking time without incident, and it was served to great acclaim at the Seder. Sadly, we could only provide a semblance of the recipe to the folks who asked for it.

I know there's a moral we should have gotten from this experience, but I'm having trouble figuring out what it is. Regardless, Happy Passover.

A Disturbance in the Force

Congrats to my sister Rebecca and her family on the birth of their son Luke yesterday -- sounds like everyone is doing well. Luke's older sister is three, and going through a protracted princess stage, so I figure I might as well start referring to her as Princess Leynie. And they have two dogs, one of whom is named Wookie. But I'm not going there, and you shouldn't either.

I Couldn't Get By Like This, Could I?

An article in today's Washington Post discusses a group of friends who decided not to buy anything new for a full year, and who, now that they've done it once, have pledged to go another year. I'm mildly anti-stuff -- I try to figure out whether something I'm considering buying is something I want or something I need. If it's the latter, no problem, but when it's the former I've been known to agonize over the purchase. For example, my mp3 player isn't in the best of shape, and I've been considering for several months whether to replace it, or to keep using it until I run it into the ground (also influenced by the knowledge that technology will only get better and cheaper the longer I wait). The bulk of my purchases are things to be experienced rather than things to hold onto, e.g., food, beer, travel, soccer games. But I'll still buy "stuff," mostly music. I never buy used clothes, but then again, I generally only buy clothes when what I have has worn out.

These people have taken my general approach to a whole new level. This year, for example, we bought items to replace things that broke (CD player, computer, toaster), and never considered buying used. It might have been beneficial to have done so, and certainly would have from the perspective of the landfill, but what if the used items had only lasted a few months? I have so little confidence in consumer electronics lasting for any length of time that I'd rather spend the extra few bucks on getting it new, with warranty, than risk used.

Do they own homes? When we needed ties for my downspout, would their compact have allowed the purchase of them new, or would I have to have looked for them on a scrap heap?

So many questions unanswered, but at the very least it gives me an aspirational goal, and it makes my anti-consumerist bent seem just a little less crazy.

*****

Just a little note to wish my folks happy anniversary -- 41 years and counting, hooray!

On the Road

In a couple of hours, we begin our journey to Dallas for Thanksgiving at my brother's. Kathy has been instructed not to lift more than 10 pounds for another couple of weeks. She'll be carrying Emelia, who at yesterday's 2-week doctor's appointment weighed in at 8lbs, 14oz. This leaves a pound and change of Kathy's weight allowance with which we can clothe and diaper Emelia. I will be bringing the remainder of what we'll be bringing, i.e., all the luggage for the five-day trip. The plan is for us to get to the airport via Metro. There may be a fine line between bravery and stupidity, but it's pretty obvious which side of the line this falls on.

Louise, Inc.

Emelia's middle name of Louise is a family name. It's Kathy's middle name, her mother's middle name, and her grandmother's first name. It was also Kathy's great-grandmother's name, though she was the mother-in-law of Kathy's grandmother. Confused though you may be, today we drove up to Wilmington to get together with Emelia's sole surviving great-grandparent, and commemorated the occasion with a picture of the four generations of Louises.

Myrtle Beach Family Vacation

Perhaps most pictures are worth 1000 words, but vacation photos are lazy -- you can caption them in less than 20, usually much less, but the 980+ missing words tell the real story of the vacation. Especially when it's a family vacation.


The Beach House


Me with Kathy at 25 weeks


My sister Shari with our nieces, Leynie (age 2) and Lauren (age 3)


Sunrise over the pier up the beach (photo by my Mom)