Dried Figs and Wooden Spools

snippits of the week

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 12:42:00 +0000

This morning it is wet and rainy in New York. The sidewalks are shiny and slick and crowded with umbrellas. I'm always surprised to see that, in a city where winter outerwear is almost exclusively black, black and more black, umbrellas and rain boots are almost obnoxiously colorful. Polka dots and leopard prints and rainbow hues.
We've had every sort of weather this week. Saturday's snow is long gone, one day it was warm enough to go out in just light sweater.

It was frigidly cold and ferociously windy, but today is just a typical rainy day.

Soup weather. (I'm in love with this cookbook currently. Winter veggies. Yumm. This soup is the Ribolita and it was delicious!) I like typical rainy days, even when I've accidentally word my pants that are just a leeeeetle too long and are only a micro-inch off the ground. Which isn't a problem except when it rains and the water seeps up my ankles.
Because the weather has been...variable...this week, we've spent a lot of time inside playing.
And making stop-motion movies. Between the box of Will's old transformers that arrived this week from his mom and their newly established rolls as director and assistant director, the post-homework/pre-dinner hour have resulted in many, many, many films.
In case you're wondering what happens when you let a nine and five year old loose with stop-motion software and a built in isight here you go.

I picked the music :)

Briton and I spent yesterday exploring the Brooklyn Museum. We're going through a serious Rick Riordan phase here, with one of the Egypt books being read and the other being listened to (over and over and over) on an ipod, so the Egyptian Wing over in Brooklyn has been high on his list of things to do.
Smaller than the exhibit at the Met, it was a nice, manageable amount of things to see. And other than a class that wandered through for a few minutes, we were just about the only people in that part of the museum which meant that Briton could hop from statue to canopic jar to papyrus scroll and I could actually read the signs without wondering if he was in someones way.

The other part of the museum that we loved was the visible storage. I remember seeing this kind of museum storage when we were puttering around one of the museums in Dublin and I find it fascinating. The Brooklyn Museum had mounted ipads scattered around the room so that you could find out more about the objects but we really just wandered. And I found my next bike.
Today is library day. We have picked up our old Charlottesville habit of hitting a cupcake shop and then the library after school every Friday. It's not quite the same, mostly because neither the cupcake shop owners nor the librarians are particularly friendly, but it's a good tradition. This is not our library. In fact, the library we go to is a shabby 1950's building that has been under construction since we moved here. But this building is a block away from it and we pass it on our way to the bus each week and I love it. It's prompted many discussions between Briton and I about what a privilege a library system is.

Have a warm and cozy weekend!

on the subway

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 16:07:00 +0000

Yesterday I rode the subway all day long.

Ok, not all day. But pretty much all afternoon. I like having no car. I love public transportation, but three and a half hours and seven transfers is a bit much, even for me. It was a fluke. A badly timed class for Briton that had me dropping him off in one corner of Manhattan, heading all the way up the the opposite corner to pick Evie up from school and then turning right around and going back to get him before coming all the way home again. It won't be repeated. There were too many tears from tired children to try to pull that off again. Somewhere in the third hour I realized why people allow their kids to ride the subway on their own. It's the same reason that I started carting my younger brother to soccer practice as soon as I had a drivers license. Schlepping one kid from activity to activity is hard work and when a second child's schedule gets added to the mix, well, the logistics can get a little hairy. I can't even imagine what would happen with, say, five kids. My grandmother is a saint to have lived through that (and she didn't even drive!)
On the plus side, I realized, right about the time when everyone was getting a little overemotional, that we were five short blocks away from our favorite ice cream store. And that saved the day. That and the giant sparkly unicorn painted on the wall of the store which Evelyn decided was there just for her. "I like this place. They like unicorns!" Indeed they do.

Also, I saw a guy dressed EXACTLY like this.
Down to the trailing hair around the face. I kid you not. Yet another moment that I wished I had a camera inside my eyes. I would have taken a photo except, well, I was carrying two backpacks, a bag, three coats, and a five year old at the time, so, I couldn't quite get to my camera.

The subway can be exhausting and crowded and frustrating, but at least it's always entertaining.

washi washi keyboard fun

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 15:48:00 +0000

It wasn’t until I was about halfway thought this little “Pimp My MacBook” project that I realized I had, inadvertently also given one of our ongoing homeschooling lessons a little boost. Will pointed it out, actually, when he looked over and asked “Do you know what’s on all those keys?”

Of course.

Duh, I can type with out looking.

I’m sure I know them all.

Ummm, maybe not all the little ones on top. But I never use those.

Except sometimes.

OK, the top ones may have to go. But otherwise I’m set. Briton, however, is going to have to step up his typing skills now that the letters on the keyboard are mainly obscured. His response when he saw it this morning was “Oh noooooo. Now I have to learn them!”

Yes grasshopper. You do.

Sometimes my craft projects seem to be a matter of fate, or worlds colliding. The big crafty god in the sky wants me to do something, so all the embossed stars and foam sticker planets align.

This was one of those projects.

A happy meeting of me spotting keyboard decals in a shop, but deciding they weren’t quite my colors, an article I’m writing about washi tape that had prompted me to buy several rolls of said tape off of a seller on Etsy.com and then an image of someone else's pimped out computer on Pinterest ended with me spending an hour last night carefully covering each of my keyboard keys with wee bits of brightly colored Japanese masking tape while watching a five year old episode of Inspector Lewis (I love that Hathaway).

To be honest, I’m not sure how long they will last, it is tape after all. But I love it. It’s just the right amount of zing on my otherwise rather grown up and proper looking computer. Hopefully it will make my computer feel fresh and new and maybe it will stop acting like it needs a walker to cross the street. (Sloooooooooowwwwwww, I must get that new external hard drive and clear things off!

If you, too, feel that your computer might need a little pick me up. Here’s what you need to do.

First, you’ll either want just one or two tape patterns OR lots and lots of different patterns in order to get the right look. I ordered four mini rolls and three larger ones that had multiple patterns on each and really, I could have used one more I think. At least one (and probably more like three) of your patterns need a mostly white background, this is because while most of the keys are the perfect width for the MacBook keys, the bottom row is taller. For the Fn, control and option keys this doesn’t matter because they are narrow enough to just turn the tape vertically. The Command keys and the Space Bar, however, are just plain too bug, so you want tape that will blend on the edges. The wavy lines and polka dots worked well from my stash and that was totally unplanned. But it’s worth a think when you order your tape.

Next clean your computer keys well. It probably needs it anyway, mine did. This way the tape will stick well.

Now you can start sticking, You’ll also need a good pair of sharp scissors. Its easier to place the tape along one edge and then cut it while still attached so that you don’t have to deal with re-sticking and or the tape loosing it’s stickiness from peeling up and cutting and putting down and peeling up because it’s not quite right and then trying three more times before, ah, finally, there’s one key done. That being said, it’s pretty easy to reposition this stuff. It is, after all, masking tape. It’s sort of made for that kind of thing.

Once you have the tape on, use your fingernail to smooth down the corners and edges and rub each key down well. It works better if you do the whole thing while the computer is off. Trust me. I started out watching the Finder on my computer while I was working on it but I kept doing strange things to the program while smoothing down the tape.

snow day in the park

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 13:40:00 +0000

I've been waiting for this. I know most people hate snow, or hate the complications that snow brings is probably more accurate, but in a city where I don't need a car to get around, where I have loud, hissing, but very warm radiators keeping me toasty warm and plenty of hot chocolate waiting to be made, I've been longing for the snow.

We were supposed to go to the grocery store that morning, and then Will needed to go over to the school to work. But instead we went out for breakfast at a diner and then spent the day in Central Park.
Beautiful.
Today the snow is melting. Everything is brown and dirty and wet. The grey aftermath of a winter storm.
But I'll take that, if it means we have a perfect snowy Saturday to play.

snippits of the week

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Fri, 20 Jan 2012 16:07:00 +0000

Cold. It's cold.

Stay inside and play board games after school cold.
The wild animals have had to resort to climbing fake trees. Poor baby jaguar.
Drink lots of tea cold.
This is my new favorite - it's not my usual thing, I've been a solid Barry's Irish Breakfast Tea and nothing else girl for years but Will brought home some mystery tea bags from a meeting and I feel in love. It took some serious googling to figure out who made it and where I could get more. As it turned out, it was local. Just a little jaunt (almost all the way) down Broadway in NoHo - where all the cool kids are.
It's so cold that this is what the fruit stalls look like at the local market. It's kind of hard to shop when they do this, but I guess even apples need their little cheeks protected from that wicked wind off the Hudson.
Did I tell you that we accidentally found the cafe from You've Got Mail? Well, we did. Stephanie and I were wandering around in the (absolutely freezing) cold while we waited for our knitting cocktail party to begin (I know, I know) to start and happened upon Cafe Lalo. See that table. That's the table. Awwww. Ok, I'm a geek.
I'm still giddy over my weekend of knitting and have been, if possible, even more obsessed with my yarn and needles. This was my favorite yarn at Vogue. Each color was named after the sheep/goat/combination that they came from. I didn't buy any and now I'm wishing I had because I'd like to make this out of some of this Mac and Lily.
Briton is taking a stop action film making class and loving it. It's not hard to understand why, they make things with clay and then, frame by frame, have their clay creatures battle one another to the sticky end. I'm sure it's educational, somehow.

Stay warm, my friends.

field trip: new york historical society

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 19:11:00 +0000

Shame on me. No, seriously, shame on me. Here I am, a history major, and not just a history major but someone who reads history for fun, living in New York for eight months now, totally avoiding the Historical Society.
As much as I love history, Historical Societies can be a little...dry. I'm good with wandering around halls reading plaques and looking at aged and ancient things big and small, but my children, and, ok, my husband too, they don't really love it. It's really not fun being the one who wants to read all those little plaques when everyone grows more and more bored and more and more impatient. And also, we visited the Museum of the City of New York in the fall and, to be honest, it was kind of a dud. Mostly because about 80% of it was under construction, but still.
The New York Historical Society, however, is one humdinger of a museum. It might be my new favorite museum here, although my old favorite, the Jewish Museum, is pretty awesome, hard to decide.
Briton and I spent the morning there. We're currently making the transition in our history studies from the Post Revolutionary Era (Continental Congresses and new monetary systems and the War of 1812 oh my) to 1800's New York and it seemed like a good place to go. The history highlight of the trip was seeing the original Stamp Act and looking at the various coins issued by the new states after the war. They also had a great exhibit on how the Haitian, French and American Revolutions were tied together, an excellent children's history museum and children's history library in the basement and an outstanding movie about the history of the city. I took notes for the rest of our history year.

So if you're in the city, and you happen to be bumming around the west side, go. It's not your average dry old Historical Society. It's worth it to see the movie alone but is also just the right size for an easy afternoon of museuming.

the boy, he blushes

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 15:52:00 +0000

Sometimes, walking through this city with a nine year old boy is a minefield of uncomfortable moments. Those things that you shelter your children from for as long as possible? Well, they tend to pop up here, right in front of you, when you least expect it. Like crazy people. Crazy people are everywhere here. Sure, there are crazy people in every city, but even Eugene, which (and I love Eugene, I really do) has some of the most colorful crazies I’ve ever run into (Hi Frog!) can’t really compete with New York in terms of numbers.

This has led to one of our “City Rules”, specifically, City Rule Number 2 – if you see/hear someone yelling and it’s not immediately apparent why, whom or what they are yelling at, cross the street or walk the other way. (City Rule Number 1 is never ever turn a corner so that you are out of sight, even if you are turning onto your own street while City Rule Number 3 is always use your city scooter manners – i.e. do not run over people or make them think you might run over them. They’ll start yelling if you do.)

Really, this is a good rule for everyone, everywhere. But it’s not really something I expected to have to drill into my kids at nine and five. Oh well, we’ll chalk that up to good life experiences.

A variation on this are the people who get one the subway and start yelling. This is an unfortunate situation because it’s hard to walk away on a moving train. The good news is that this is New York. And New York is full of New Yorkers. And let me tell you, these people, they don’t take any shit. So you can usually just keep your head down, your ear phones plugged in and count on the fact that someone else on the car will yell back. They might even enjoy it. I think it’s kind of a sport here.

We have streets where you DO NOT TAKE YOUR PHONE OUT OF YOUR POCKET, because people like to grab and run, and blocks where you MUST hold mom’s hand at all times even if you are nine. These are things that city kids have to learn. Along with why those people who “surf” the subway by hanging onto the outside of the door are idiots, even if idiot is a bad word.

And then there was yesterday, when we took a “shortcut” while walking from a class in the West Village to another in the East Village and ended up on a street that sold, um, interesting clothing.

It started out fine, three chess shops, some cool vintage clothing places, and then suddenly, we were heavily into small-bits-of-leather-sort-of-covering-the-privates outfits. I didn’t know Briton could walk that fast. I had a hard time snapping a picture, in fact, because I was trying to keep up with him. I think it was the nipple tassels that really threw him.

He has requested that we not take that street next week.

Well, OK. If you insist.

vogue, vogue, vogue, vogue

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 16:03:00 +0000

Vogue Knitting Live was, well it was delicious, wasn't it? Spending half the day wandering through yarn booth after yarn booth, familiar yarns, unfamiliar yarns (Possum yarn. Yes. Possum. And yes, I bought some, how could I not?) Crazy hexagonal needles, giant crochet hooks and even bigger knitting needles to work yarn thicker than my thumb, seeing The Crochet Dude swarmed by admiring ladies, finding a booth where the yarn is named after the sheep whose wool it's made from.
Or to laugh, belly laugh, at the Snowmen vs. Gnomes art exhibit. All done in teeny tiny knitting.
Don't tell the gnomes, but I think the snowmen have the advantage there.
And then spending the other half listening to a goddess of knitting, the protege of Elizabeth Zimmerman's own daughter swear up a storm while at the same time casting off pearls of wisdom I wouldn't have learned from a lifetime of trial and error. It was that kind of day. If your not a knitter, I give you full leave to roll your eyes and be bored by the though, if you are a knitter then, well, you understand.
I've often thought that, for such a social person, and I am a social (ahem, chatty) person, it's strange that my hobbies tend to be very solitary. I'm not a team sports person. I don't really love parties unless they are with my closest friends, I don't like to go clubbing or even venture into crowds of people that I don't already know. I like to read and write and knit and bake and am generally a great big homebody. This means that, unless something drags me out, I tend to get into the habit of being on my own (with my family, of course). And while I love "hunkering down", I can get a little down when I have too much alone time.

Knitting has, unexpectedly, provided a social outlet for me. I go out to knit. I hang out with knitters. It's my team sport, except instead of numbered jerseys and strange mascots and ESPN, we have different yarn blends, sheep and Ravelry. I realized, not long ago, that I have progressed from someone who knits to a Knitter with a capital K. It may seem like a strange distinction, but trust me, there's a difference. This realization came, I should add, when I found myself trying to stuff my yarn swift, five projects and ten extra skeins of yarn into our suitcase to take to my parents house. Because what if I finished all four projects and had to start a new one and there was no ball winder in the whole state of Missouri? That would be tragic! I did come to my senses and only brought two, ok three, knitting projects with me in the end.
So it's no wonder that spending the day with a swarm of like minded ladies (and a few guys) had me all in a dither. This, by the way, was not the best shirt I saw, but it was close. The best was on a man who was very gallantly escorting his wife (or perhaps he was there to restrain her from buying up the whole marketplace) I only saw him for a moment and didn't get a chance to take a picture, but the back of his shirts read "I work so that she can crochet." Which, you know, is probably pretty true. True love that.

nothing

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 18:02:00 +0000

My day at Vogue Knitting Live has come and gone and I'll be talking about that, I'm sure, for days (weeks, months) since it was one of the nicest grownup fun days I've spent in ages. But today is Will's last day of vacation. So we are doing a whole lot of nothing.
Nothing means that there are candles lit, even though it's barely afternoon. And there are piles of knitting projects, started, almost finished and still in the "just dreaming" stage, dotted around the living room.

There is a jungle being built in one of the bedrooms, complete with pom pom palm trees and raincoat green grasses.
Evelyn, who has only recently been introduced to the wonderfulness that is Harry Potter, has been humming the theme song all morning and chanting (mispronounced, but very dramatically reenacted) spells, much to the delight of her brother who is taking full advantage of it. (Think Harry Potter meets the Jungle of Doom here)

I might, might get adventurous and make some cookies later. Maybe. Or I might just keep knitting.

Tomorrow it's back to real life. Tomorrow we have to stick to schedules and pack lunches and work on a math review and start the last studio project of the year. I'm trying not to think about that too much.

Today is for nothing. I like a little bit of nothing.

snippits of the week

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 15:59:00 +0000

Last night, I baked. From scratch. It's been a while. Sometimes I look back on old blog posts and realize that I used to bake A LOT. And now I almost never do. Partly because I'm busy, partly because we have the worlds worst oven that turns our tiny kitchen into a sweltering hole and partly because, I guess I'm just less inspired to bake these days. I'm sure I'll get back to it at some point. At least I hope so.
I picked up a jar of coconut oil from Trader Joes last weekend. Not because I had something in mind to use it for, but just because I keep seeing references to it and thought I'd give it a try. After pondering a few recipes I settled on this one from 101 cookbooks and I'm so glad I did. This was the perfect recipe to try out (and introduce to the picky eaters) a new ingredient. I'm not sure I'd really classify it as a cookie, it's more like a round granola bar. But yummy none the less. We polished off all but one last night over Bones and The Finder and I finished the last this morning (they are kind of breakfasty, right?). Delicious.
Briton is still working on his sky tram project. He's stumped over how to make the tram change levels and head off in a different direction. I foresee a trip to the Roosevelt Island Tram in our future.
Know what you get when you cut open glow stick and dump them in a jar? Happy kids. Giggly, happy kids. Best 99 cents I spent this week.
This lady was walking around the MoMA store barefoot. Why? She would stop, put down her shoes, and look at things, then pick them up and move on. Hummm.
The Christmas decorations are officially gone. And the house was looking a little bare. I'm not one for Valentines decorations usually, but this turned out so simple and pretty. I think I may leave it up all winter. Just because.
With all the cold and wind and rain, we've been spending a lot of time hunkered down as a family. Lots of board games, card games (the Monopoly card game is our current favorite, it's so fun!) movies and snuggles. Will and I have watched more movies together in the past week then we did all last term. It's pretty darn nice, I have to say.

Wishing you a nice, cozy weekend!

these are the people in your neighborhood

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 16:31:00 +0000

This morning I walked Evelyn to school amidst wind and rain and overcast skies. The very picture of a blustery day. We walked a little quicker than normal, heads down against the wind, umbrella pulled tight over my shoulders and Evie tucked firmly into my side, trying to keep dry and warm. It was nasty weather to be out in. So nasty that, most people weren't. And I realized, as I walked home along the mostly empty sidewalk, that I wasn't seeing people that I usually do. That I've gotten to know, if only by sight, the people in our neighborhood. Just like the song.
Oh, who are the people in your neighborhood?
In your neighborhood?
In your neighborhood?
Say, who are the people in your neighborhood?
The people that you meet each day.

I loved that song as a kid. I was a PBS kid. Kermit and Big Bird, along with Mr. Rodgers, well, they formed a lot of my early opinions of the world.

I grew up in a small town, so I knew the neighbors and the postman and the people walking down the street, at least most of them. And Charlottesville was also like that. You couldn't go out without seeing someone you know. That's a comforting thing, at least for me. It's also something I assumed I'd give up, living here.

Except, even in a big city, neighbors are important. So on this blustery day, I missed seeing my neighbors out and about. The three barbers who stand out in front of their shop every morning arguing, pausing only to nod or say good morning as I pass. The fruit vendor setting out persimmons and pears in his giant furry hat. The little waiter who sweeps the sidewalk in front of the bistro, the drivers who deliver the day visitors to the retirement home, the lady with the teeny little white dog who always smiles at Evelyn as she skips along. I don't know them, really, but I know them. And they know me. Even in this big city, we pause and smile, nod or wave.
At least my favorite bar sign was out and ready for the day, rain or no rain. I'm not sure without my daily dose of bar humor.

field trip:MoMA

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 14:15:00 +0000

Last week, for our first post-holiday field trip, Briton and I spent the afternoon at the Museum of Modern Art. I have to confess that I didn't think I'd like it. I'd waited to go because, well, first of all, I don't know that much about art, and I know nothing about modern art. I love going to the Met, much of the "art" is also history, which is more my speed. And the art that is ART tends to be more recognizable from my limited art education.
But I loved it. And so did Briton. I was surprised, really, really surprised at the insights he had on the pieces we looked at. And I was almost as equally surprised at how much of the "modern" art was familiar to me.
We wandered though the furniture and technology exhibits and watched some very strange videos and stood in front of the most enormous Monet I've ever seen, checking out the how different it looked when you stood very close versus far away.
And I let Briton just talk.

And talk.

Most of the time, especially during our "school day" talking is a back and forth thing, and I often have to try to limit his constant flow of conversation a bit. Otherwise we would never get anything done. But that day, I just let him talk.
It really was fascinating. Exhausting, yes, but fascinating. He commented on the curves carved into a building and how a Smart Car really was kind of like Art and how almost everything could be designed. He told me about his plans to build a Lego tram in his room (currently underway) and about all the Legos he NEEDS and maybe some K'NEX too and wouldn't it be cool if he could get up on the roof and start his tram there and maybe make it big enough to ride it down to the park.

We looked at Mondrian and Warhol and Hopper and Pollack (he didn't care for Pollack and thought Warhol was a little weird) and lots of artists I'd never heard of and he had surprisingly thoughtful insights on what made them all Modern Artists.

I get swept up, sometimes, by guilt with homeschooling. Guilt about if I'm covering enough or if I'm doing what's best for him at all. Guilt over decidedly more laid back days than he would be having in school. Guilt is, I know, part and parcel to parenting, but I've experienced more than my normal share this year over homeschool, I suspect it comes from my teaching days. But on days like this, when we stand in a museum and I see exactly how much he has grown this year, how much more mature he is, the guilt melts away and I realize that this, this is a good thing. All around.

Of course, our entire trip home was taken up by a conversation that centered around the fact that women smell like perfume and men "stink like arm pit" and that that is why our dog doesn't like strange men petting her. Because they stink. Like arm pit.

Did I say mature? Ahem. Well, he's getting there.

dead horse bay

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Mon, 09 Jan 2012 14:04:00 +0000

In the spirit of eeking out as much as possible from our last term in the city - and from the last weeks of Will's break - we spent Saturday at the beach. Trips to the beach used to figure heavily into our free time in the days before children. It was our version of a cheap date. For a few gallons of gas and $2 worth of bait, we could spend half a day at the beach netting crabs, poking though tide pools and wandering down the beach. And then, at the end of the day, we could drive home with a bucketful of dungeness crab, often more than we could possibly eat in one sitting, and have a (basically) free feast. Even after the kids were born, the beach figured highly in birthday trips, days off and mental health days. I crave the beach the same way I crave chocolate, and salty snacks. In fact, the perfect day for me involves going to the beach with chocolate and salty snacks.

No before I go on, I should clarify something. When I say "beach" I'm talking about the Northwest version of the place where water meets sand (or rock). I realize that to much of America, and probably most of the world, the phrase "going to the beach" concurs up something along the lines of this.

But for those of us who grew up with the beaches of the Pacific Northwest, this is our idea of the perfect day at the beach.

What can I say, we're sweater people.
So heading out to the beach in January seemed like a good idea. Plus, it was a balmy 57 degrees on Saturday, which after our 12 degree morning last week, seemed positively sweltering.
Dead Horse Bay is not, even by Northwest standards, your normal beach. Sure, its got sand and water and rocks and reeds, all the basics. But it also has heaps of 100 year old plus garbage.

Once upon a time, up until the 1930's that is, Dead Horse Bay, along with being the site of several horse rendering plants (hence the name) was a garbage dump for the city, which, I know, doesn't sound very appealing. But really, it's pretty fascinating because after a century, all the nasty has rotted away and what's left are billions of bottles, trinkets and odd bits of shoe leather. It's a scavengers paradise.

We each left with a bag of treasures and now have a very nice collection of bottles of all sizes and colors, a jar full of shells and some funky little objects including Evie's favorite - a figurine with a stamp reading "Made in Occupied Japan" on the bottom, and came home exhausted. As much from the 1 1/2 hour subway/bus trek each way as by the actual beach. Sprawled on the couch that evening, Briton declared that it had been a great adventure, but was probably enough "going" for one weekend and could we please spend Sunday doing absolutely nothing? Which we did.

And that was equally glorious.

snippits of the week

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 14:36:00 +0000

For the first time since, well, probably since we had kids, we went OUT for New Years Eve. We've done nights in with friends, but other than that, the past eight New Years have been pretty quiet. This year we hit First Night in my parents home town (with the kids) and saw some crazy cool science experiments, heard some truly awful music at a kids dance party, watched "Professional Hula Hoopers" and took over the photo booth which was meant for the kids but was way to fun to leave alone.
Although this shot doesn't really do it justice, that pink wig was a goof foot and a half high. I want one.
Here's my sign of the week. I think I actually took it last week but it got lost in the jumble of vacation. This is in a grocery store. Now does that make you want to continue shopping for food? Or go home and bury your head under a pillow screaming "Ewwwwwww"? I thought so.
Back in the homeschooling game. Yes, he is learning, not napping. I promise. Really. No, really.
When we got home from the trip, we found a package waiting for us with the game Beat the Parents inside, sent by some of our oldest friends.
It wasn't until we started playing it that I realized that it is EXACTLY the same game that we used to play before kids - Battle of the Sexes (the ladies always won, of course) except now, instead of asking mostly sexist and sometimes obscene questions, we get things kids know but parent's don't or things parents should know and kids might not questions.

It was a big hit and the adults only barely scraped by with a win.
And finally, I'd just like to say a big old congratulations to our friends Sean and Alicia who welcomed twin girls last night. You guys rock and we can't wait to meet the little ladies! And I think I need to make them hats like this. How cute are they?

winter knitting

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 14:04:00 +0000

As much as I love Christmas/Solstice knitting, and I really do love making something for all the members of our little family, I also love, perhaps even more, after-Christmas knitting. When the weather is cold (and it is! Yesterday it was 12 degrees when I took Evie to school) and the swirl of tree decorating, gift making, shopping, baking and visiting is done, well, then it's time to curl up on the couch and loll away the evening hours with projects that are just plain fun. And with no deadline.

I've had quite the knitty Christmas. I cant decide if Will is exasperated that most of what I wanted involved knitting or if he is relieved at how easy it makes shopping for me. Probably the latter. I'm now two knitting books richer - this one and this one - and am also the possessor of a ticket to one class at Vogue Knitting Live, the knitting conference that starts next weekend in New York. Thank goodness my husband understands what a knitting dork I am.
I also continued with my new tradition of buying some yarn whenever I go somewhere. This way, whatever I knit from it will remind me of the place I visited. Or, maybe it's just an excuse to buy yarn when I really don't need to buy yarn. Either way, I picked up this pretty and very soft locally spun angora at True Blue Fiber Friends in Columbia. I'm thinking fingerless gloves. Or one of those earwarmer headbands, because the wind off the Hudson river is no joke, let me tell you.
I'm also about 3/4 of the way done with my sweater, it just needs sleeves and a collar now and I can't wait to finish it, the yarn seems to get softer the more I work with it.

Will's sweater is coming along but I've paused momentarily because the class I'm taking at Vogue Knitting Live is on the pattern I'm using for it, so I decided to wait to knit further in case I learn something that means I need to backtrack. Because I didn't have his sweater finished for Christmas, I knit one of Mason Dixon's Last Minute Schmattas, shortened to make it more guy-like. I think I knit the whole thing in 30 minutes, and that was with me tucking it under a pillow every time Will walked in the door. I'd like to make one for myself as well but am waiting to see what yarn I can find at the conference (because that's kind of like visiting, right? So I should get some yarn to commemorate it)
This hat, which is very soft and pretty to look at, is painfully slow. I can't seem to get the hang of holding both yarns in one hand so each time I change colors I have to put one down and pick up the other. It's interesting, but I can only do a round or two before I loose focus, or someone needs me, or something interesting happens on TV and realize that this I cannot knit and watch simultaneously. It may not be finished before the cold weather is, but someday I'll have a very fancy looking stranded hat. I hope.
And that about sums up my workbasket at the moment. No sewing projects in the queue, not a lot of homey type things, although I've been doing a lot of daydreaming and pinterest pinning about what our next house might look like, just knitting. And more knitting. And movie watching and book reading. Mostly things that involve the couch. Because that's what cold winter days are built for.

What about you? What projects are you working on?

back

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 17:11:00 +0000

After three weeks away and a very long, snowy, sometimes icy two-day drive home, we pulled into Manhattan last night just as rush hour was beginning to wane. From the George Washington Bridge, the city spread out down the island. Lit up against the early nights. Horns honked, people cut us off, our building greeted us with the smell of fried food and one very happy to see us cat. I think she even missed the dog, almost. Back to real life.
I'm still reeling a little in the cloud of post vacation haze. When we drove away from the city in mid-December, we were dragging. Tired, worn. Done with a term that never seemed to end. I hate to admit it, but the phrase "I hate New York!" passed my lips, more than once, in those last weeks before we left. Even though I don't. It's not the place that I was hating on, it was the situation. Not enough family time, too little sleep, a box cereal that costs more than breakfast for a family of four at our favorite Virginia bagel joint. It was all piling up on us. Which is exactly why we left for Christmas.
Three weeks of quiet woods and plenty of room and a car to take to the grocery store and friends and family and date nights and kitchens with ovens that aren't 20 degrees hotter in the back half so that you have to hover over anything baking, turning it every few minutes to avoid burning.

This morning Evelyn and I got up at what, after much sleeping in over the past weeks, seemed very, very early. She did the last pages of her holiday homework and put on her uniform, I made pancakes and packed up her bag, and we set out into the cold. Back to normal.

Except not.

I feel hesitant about this term. Weary. The frustration I felt at the city and the situation during early December have ebbed away, leaving me a little gun shy. On the one hand, I am refreshed. Ready to take the city on again. Ready to squeeze these last few months of adventure out of them. I'm ready to have fun here again. To enjoy one more term in the city, because by summer, by late spring really, we'll be done and gone.

But on the other hand, I know that it's wont be easy. That the last term of Will's school is likely to be the toughest. That he has two international trips to make, a research assistant position on top of being a teaching assistant. And also the job searches. Reviewing CV's, looking at towns and universities, trying to decide from a distance what it would be like to live here or there. It's all necessary. And exciting. And helpful for what we hope will come. But it means that the stressful days will come back.
I don't usually make New Year's resolutions, but this year, I think I will. I will make a New Year's Hope. This year, I hope for myself to be steadier. To not let the stress get me down. To enjoy big city days and hectic daddy's-working nights as well as the quiet sweeter moments that I wish there were more of. And to that end, I also hope to make more of those moments. The quiet ones. Even with firetrucks wailing and neighbors setting off their smoke detector for the fourth night in a row.
What about you? Do you have a New Year's Hopes?

hindsight

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Fri, 30 Dec 2011 22:24:00 +0000

Last year, on the last day of the year, I was sewing little ballerina slippers for Evie. I was doing a lot of sewing. And renovating a bathroom. And gazing out at a snow yard planning for my spring garden. I had no idea, of course, that by spring we'd have the house on the market, that before summer we'd be gone, living a very different life in a very different place.
Most years I look back and think, yes, there were some surprises, but all in all, it's about what I thought it would be. You never know what's around the corner, but the unexpected isn't that extreme.

This year was not one of those years.

Two weeks off from New York has done me a world of good. I was getting to the point where I couldn't see the forest for the trees, or the beauty and excitement for the chaos and noise at least, since, well, there isn't really a forest in New York. But having stepped away from it for a bit I'm glad, mostly, to go back and dive into the city again. To spend our last four months squeezing as much adventure out of our time as possible.
I'm going to make a wild guess and say that 2012 is also going to be a year of change. I'll look back next December from...somewhere....and say "I'd never have guessed this is where we will be!" But as long as everyone is happy and healthy, and, if possible, there is a garden involved, I'm sure it will be a good thing.

Here's to the unexpected. Happy New Year everyone.

big,small,soft,loud

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Wed, 28 Dec 2011 16:34:00 +0000

Someone once told me, years ago, that the problem with moving was that, once you leave the place you start, you belong everywhere and nowhere. And the more we move, the more places we go, both to live and to visit. The more I find this is true. In every place, we leave a little piece of ourselves and take a small bit of it on with us.
Everywhere is home. Nowhere is home.

We are visiting my parents, who live in a small city in the middle of Missouri, where Will and I lived once when Briton was a toddler. So coming here is, in a way, coming home. Except leaving New York is leaving home. And passing through Charlottesville is visiting home. And thinking about Ireland, or Portland, that's dreaming about home.
This place is as different from New York as it can get. New York is a big big city where the spaces are small. Where the outside is loud and clashing and indoors you need to be quiet so you don't disturb everyone above, or below, or next door. Here the city is small but the spaces are big. Supermarkets are SUPER. Aisles are wide, options are many. I stood for several minutes the other day gazing at all the options for deep fried meat coatings. Ten different fish frys. Six types of bread crumbs not including the varieties of Panko or cornmeal. In New York you'd have to span the city, visiting a dozen different stores, to find them all. They are there, because everything is, it's just harder to find them.

And in the same vein, the outside here is quiet, blissfully so. No taxis or firetrucks or millions of people clicking along sidewalks, talking, sipping their coffee. Just quiet. Yet inside it is loud. Because it can be. Because my kids can make as much racket as they want and no one will hear it. Except, of course, those of us inside with them. But that's ok too because they can go to a different floor, a different part of the house.

Right now we are in the thick of deciding where the next home will be. Weighing options. Do we choose a place we want to be but a job that is not, perhaps, ideal? Or a job that is ideal but a place that is not, yet, home. Do we go back to the places we love? Or find a new place to fall for. It's an ongoing debate.
The truth, of course, is that Home is where we are. We've gotten good, after seven cities in eleven years of marriage, of making home wherever we land. But having an option to choose, or at least consider several options, of where we will be next, is both exciting, and daunting. It's like standing at a fork in the road with no map, not knowing which is the best path to take.

Right or Left.

Right or Left.

a good christmas

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Tue, 27 Dec 2011 16:47:00 +0000

Very merry indeed.
The sweater fit (yay!)
The dollhouse suitcase was a hit (yay yay!)
And Santa managed to both find a unicorn at the last minute when he suddenly realized that the one that was ordered never arrived (yikes) and also to make (make!) a one of a kind Ninjago without staying up too too late on Christmas Eve. Whew.

happy happy

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 21:55:00 +0000

With all the traveling and family-ing, I've been neglecting this space this week, but i know you understand. Have a very Happy Christmas/Hannauka/Kwanza/Solstice/Winter weekend everyone!

perhaps i am a city mouse after all

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 01:43:00 +0000

Although not in the long run, I'm sure of that.

We are currently three quarters of the way through a road trip to the midwest, via friends back in Charlottesville for one blissful day (miss you all!) and now a stop to see Will's family in Kentucky. Hysterically (or maybe it's just sleep deprivation) all four of us - well, five actually since the dog should be counted here - have had a "we are not in the city anymore!" moment.

On the view out the window in New Jersey -

Briton - "Are we in Africa?"
Me - "No, we're in New Jersey."
Briton - "What is that out there? It looks like the African Savannah."
Me - "That's grass."

Upon exiting Manhattan at dawn over the George Washinton Bridge -

Will - "Wow, is it me or did it just get dramatically brighter out there! The sun just suddenly came up!"
Me - "No, we just aren't driving in between buildings, so we can see the sky."
Will - "Ahhh, you're right!"

While discussing the possibility of playing in the backyard at Will's Grandparents house -

Evelyn - "Can we go to the park back there?"
Briton - "That's not a park, that's a yard. But behind the yard is the Common, like Bowling Green."
Evelyn - "OK. Can we go to the park back there?"

There was also a moment where I thought we had veered out of the town we are visiting this evening, only to realize that the lack of a bazillion lights was just because it's, you know, a suburban neighborhood.

And also. The dog didn't want to pee in the grass at first. She kept looking for sidewalk.

We've also had a difficulty with needing to stop and only being able to find a Walmart at that critical moment. Which has led me to spend some time, across a few states, perusing some of the quality gifts on offer.
"Style with Comfort!" So true.
While the name, here, was the initial selling point for me, now I'm leaning toward "zippered back hatch" as the best part of this particular item.
But if neither of these two floats your boat, I picked this paper up on route and noticed that it has some holiday gifts on offer as well. Would you prefer a "Just Busted" T-shirt or coffee mug?

Ahhh, road trips.... So much fun, so many miles.

snippits of the week

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Fri, 16 Dec 2011 10:41:00 +0000

Winter fun. And packing. And one more project, ok, two more, ok three more. That's how I'd sum up this week. It's been a little stressful, cramming all those things in, both the fun and the work.

We're heading off on a road trip so I'll leave you with a few images from our week o winterness in New York. Here's to a relaxing weekend (and few weeks!)
Have a great weekend

baking

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 13:00:00 +0000

I've been spending part of the mornings, in between multiplying fractions and explaining the many uses of the dash, making goodies. Candies, some from a list of recipes I inherited from Will's dad, who inherited them from his mother, and some that are just favorites of mine.
Yesterday I pulled them all out from their various cupboard/fridge/freezer hiding places, along with one of my fruitcakes, cut into cubes, and boxed them up, ready to give out during a little (big, long, seeing lots of friends and family) trip we'll be taking in the next few days. Cranberry bark, truffles, rum balls, fudge and of course, fruitcake. Yum.
Now if I can just stop myself from nibbling on them.
What's your favorite holiday cookie or candy? Where did the recipe come from?

field trip

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Tue, 13 Dec 2011 13:51:00 +0000

Yesterday, Briton and I (and a whole group of homeschoolers) visited MFTA or Materials for the Arts which might be the coolest thing I've seen in New York. I love that the city sees the wisdom in supporting artists by providing a warehouse full of stuff for them to use and from a recycling standpoint, what a great way for companies to re purpose their leftovers, scraps and odds and ends. Fantastic.

As part of the tour, the kids got to "shop" for items to create a marble maze and spend a few hours putting them together. The folks that work there were incredible about supporting the kids in their creations, offering just the right amount of guidance while letting them do their own things. Briton was only about a third of the way done when our time was up so they suggested that he fill up a bag with double sided tape, linoleum samples, plastic scraps and corks from the table to take home. The rest of the afternoon and evening were spent doing more gluing, taping and testing.
I wish every town had a place like this. So freaking cool.

a christmas mission

noreply@blogger.com (Gillian) — Mon, 12 Dec 2011 14:05:00 +0000

Last night, we went on a very important mission. Two important missions, in fact. We've been waiting and waiting until Daddy had enough time to come with us. Waiting so long that little hands had lost their first version of the letter so we had to write a new one at the last minute.

The escalator, which started out shiny and modern, became older and narrower the higher we climbed. Up, up, up to the eighth floor of Macy's where there is a very special mailbox.
And then, into the long line, past a miniature village and dancing bears and a talking tree and where the (over the top - hey, there might be a talent scout in the audience!) elves danced and sang and wound the kids up into a frenzy until at last, there he was.
Evie was a little scared at first. After watching A Christmas Story, she didn't want to get pushed down a slide with Santa's boot. But of course, the real Santa would never do that. The real Santa would say that of course she wanted a unicorn, he knew that she loved them. And he would not flinch when Briton blurted out the longest gift spiel ever (Iwantalegoninjagodoubleswordredspinnerthatdoesn'texistandthreecardsthatdon'texistbutthatyoumakesothatI'mtheonlyoneintheworldwhohasthem.)
It's good to believe.