Rock To Wind A String Around

This last weekend was crammed full–Albert & I were asked to be motivational speakers at 2 different events, the boy had social commitments (a mall excursion planned with the fencing camp kids–his first without a hovering parent to guide helicopter over him), a movie at The Drexel, a library tournament thingy (again for the boy), half a dinner on the deck (the other half inside because it rained, oh how it rained), and all of the usual weekend stuff too.  By Sunday, I wanted a family outing that was reasonable in scope–no zoo trips, or baseball games, just something pleasant we all could enjoy, even my mom, who was a little under the weather.  I’ve wanted to take a trip to one of the local waterfalls for awhile, so we chose the one with the easiest paths and set out.  We were parked at Indian Run in less than 15 minutes, but waterfalls were in short supply.  My mom and I walked all over the upper trail while Albert, Elliott, the ever-uneasy Astrid Meklit hopped from rock to rock in an attempt to get close to the falls.  They gave up as AM began to panic on the slightly slippery rocks and joined us in time to report the lack of a waterfall, although a water trickle was evident (must go earlier in the spring, I think).  In the meantime, we continued to “hike” the trail, musing quite loudly about the lack of animals (I wonder why)…

We did find a fabulous photo spot before the walk was over.  Elliott preened and mugged, pretending to fall off the edge of the world.  I joined him for a quick tango before he plunged to his untimely demise.  See how pleased he appears!

All of this hiking (and dancing) left us in need of refreshment.  A Jeni’s splendid icecreams was sighted and a Sunday family outing was made infinitely sweeter.

Father’s Day, while heartbreakingly difficult in many ways, was also surprisingly lovely.  The day started with brunch.  I whipped up Karina’s fabulous eggs diablo over polenta, served it with a minted trio of fresh berries, and at the last minute, added a sample of some freshly made gluten free granola (Bob’s Red Mill offers gf safe oats) from the NY Times’ Mark Bittman.   This was the wind-down from the weekend spent in the kitchen (more on that later–I’ve got dishes to dish about).  I couldn’t seem to stop cooking, so I went with it, and nobody seemed to mind.

Add a trip to the movies, a fencing camp meeting, dinner and an episode of True Blood, and really, there isn’t room for much more, but we squeezed in a few gifts anyway.  A lovely new grill, an even lovelier new ice cream maker, and loveliest of all:   new pictures of the charm tots.

Behold!

and, well…

Every single one of youse will refrain from telling me how grown up the boy looks.  Really…

I have two beautiful, no really, two b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l children.  In real life, they shine like stars.  In photos, the boy continues to shine.  The girl?  Not so much…  She pouts, pulls face, grimaces in an attempt to smile, and occasionally looks sweet in her pensiveness.  25 shots of Elliott yield 22 terrific images to work with.  25 shots of Astrid Meklit?  Maybe 2, or 3 if I’m really lucky.

I’m not complaining, mind.  I just find it odd that the prettiest girl in town looks drunk whenever I take her picture.

Today was red shirt photo day.  A little late, I know, what with the holiday on Sunday, but hey, it’s not Father’s Day  yet.  I never did find a suitable photo project to do with AM for Father’s Day, so I put her into something festive clean and frame her as well.  The boy’s session took 6 minutes–I recognized the best shot as I hit the button, took a few more for good measure, and excused him.  Astrid Meklit was a different story.   She isn’t difficult about photos, she just looks so astoundingly bad in them.

Here’s one of the best of Astrid from today.  I’ll post the red shirt photo on Sunday.

Sweet Maude, I do love her so…

We’re back from our month in Florida and are slowly settling back into our real lives.  Normalcy is creeping in as I begin to plan Enkutatash and the Dead of Winter event, shop for groceries, reschedule our many canceled appointments and weed, weed, weed. The lack of fencing lessons removes a good bit of the structure of our regular week, but fencing camp begins Monday.  In the meantime, we’ve filled in the gaps with haircuts, cookie baking, and the aforementioned weeding (seriously, the well-manicured beauty of our yard became a jungle in our absence.

Grief is a funny shape.  Blogging has become non-existent, my insomnia seems pretty reigned in, what with the need to sleep for 7-8 hours at a time (maybe too much contentment = insomnia?  because it hasn’t been a problem since the beginning of May, and my nutritional plan has relied all too heavily on the sugar group. The sleep is a plus, the sugar and lack of communication with the outside world is a big minus, but I’m hoping for more balance in the next few weeks.  In the meantime, friendly faces and some time on the treadmill seems to be good for what ails me.  Yard saling helps too–the kids and I bounced around the north part of Cowtown for most of the morning.  My wallet is a little lighter, but so is my heart.