miao!

The mouths of not-quite babes

2012-01-24T22:49:00.004-05:00

I am LOVING this overly talkative stage that Cadence and her peers are in at the moment. Whether it is playground antics, thoughtful musings, or "DUH mom it's obvious!" explanations, they come up with the most amazing stuff. Here are some examples of each:

A few months ago, I accompanied Cadie B's class to the playground, and while I was there I overheard the following conversation between two of her four year old classmates:

Isabel (runs up to Orion and says): Excuse me, but are you part of the world?

Orion: Yes.

Isabel: Ah. Well then, I'm sorry but I'm gonna have to conquer you!

(exit.)

Earlier today, after a long, festive hide-and-seek tag type game, Cadence spontaneously turned to me and said, quite thoughtfully:

Cadence: Some four year olds are really big, but they're not very responsible. But I don't think I'm like that. I think I'm a very responsible child. Do you think so, Mama? That I'm not a not-responsible four year old, but a very responsible four year old?

Why yes, Cadence, Yes- yes I do.

And then this evening, well, I'll provide just a snippet of the very long, involved conversation that took place over the course of several hours that was SUPPOSED to be bedtime. Cadence had successfully gotten James and I off on a tangent by asking about sleep cycles, but she was quick to reign us back in when the conversation risked moving on without her, and she did so in the most bone-chilling way she could have in the eyes of her arithmaphobic mother who is already intimidated by her baby's smarts:

James: How long would you say my naps usually last?

Kate: about 3 hours?

James: Maybe I got through 2 sleep cycles per nap? Or I just have really loooong sleep cycles?

Kate: I don't know, you'd have to talk to a sleep specialist about all that.

James: I've actually wanted to do a sleep study -

Cadence (clearly annoyed): MAMA! I've been waiting for my turn to talk. I was going to tell you that baba's naps are 180 minutes long.

...

So yeah, either a mathematical genius that scares the crap out of me, or a reeealllllly good guess!

THE FLU, part II

2012-01-24T22:32:00.001-05:00

...well, it was kind of MOSTLY over...we made it through that night alright except that Hazel woke up at 4 am thinking it was time to paaaart-aaayy! and the next day both kids were fine in the morning and got increasingly fussy throughout the day, and then spent that night being fussy, fidgety, whiney, and NOT sleeping really, I think because of opportunistic upper respiratory bugs with the sniffling coughing yuck which means I didn't sleep, either...Sunday we tried to lay low, and thought we were finally in the clear...until James' belly rebelled and I spent the night waking up with him. At least the girls are ok, now, I thought, until early early in the morning when Hazel unexpectedly vomited ON MY FACE AND IN MY HAIR...and James had moved the bowl so I couldn't find it and by the time he woke enough to figure out what was going on and retrieve it well...it was time for yet another bed sheet, pajama, pillowcase, and blanket change. Oi. The next night - last night - I stayed up after the ladies went to sleep to catch up on some work and such, so went to bed late. The night itself was a bit restless but ok, until the girls again rose at the crack of dawn, and I haven't had a full (or even half?) a night's sleep since last week sometime. (I bet you can tell just reading this. I doubt I'm at the peak of my wordsmithy skills.)

Here's hoping tonight will be better. (nevermind that Cadence JUST finally fell asleep about 10 minutes ago.)

THE FLU

2012-01-20T14:53:00.000-05:00

We made it 4.5 years of parenting without encountering the horrors of the dreaded Stomach Flu, so I really can't complain, but when it hit, it hit HARD.

Night one: Hazel wakes up horrendously sick. She recognizes her lunch in the mess and spends the rest of the night recounting how her "noms came back!" and that it hurt and made her cry. Over the course of the (very long) night, we went through every bed sheet, mattress pad, towel, blanket, and set of pajamas in the house. Cadence somehow manages to sleep through everything, even when James had to physically relocate her to change sheets while Hazel was shrieking bloody murder.

Day one: It's clear that we can't drag a nauseous Hazel on the subway, so James takes Cadence to school and we arrange a playdate with a classmate for the afternoon so he can collect her after he's done with class. Cadence is ecstatic that she gets to go to school with just Baba and that she'll get to play, and bounds off in an awesome mood. I stay home with the poor sick little baby. You know what's NOT home? Running water. The building turned it off. I had just enough warning to fill all the teapots and pitchers and fill the tub to use for cleaning things up, but all that laundry we'd amassed the night before had to be put on hold...and I neglected to stop up the bathtub drain as we did during the hurricane, so by the time the water came back on, the tub was almost completely empty. Luckily we make it through, and Hazel seems to improve by evening. I get a text from Cadence's friend's mom saying no rush to pick her up 'cause they're having fun, and decide we've weathered the worst of the storm and start with the post-sickness deep cleanse. Hazel and I finally emerge from the shower scrubbed and fresh, and discover a voicemail on my phone. We listen to it together; it's James, reporting that he's on his way to get Cadence, who evidently just threw up a couple times at her friend's home. "Oh, no!" Hazels declares, meaningfully, "poor jie jie! Jie jie come home, Stay."

Night Two: James and Cadence, armed with some borrowed clothes and a disposable tupperware container, embark on a long and nauseating taxi ride home. They arrive home sometime after 7:30, smelly and unhappy, and we get them washed off and start prepping for bed. James is scheduled to host some friends for a guy's night this evening, and now it's too late to cancel. My noble plan of getting the girls into bed before they arrive doesn't stand a chance, and the guys (who are, thankfully, all lovely people who are totally understanding of a little girl's plight) are greeted by a pale 4 year old huddled under a blanket occasionally wretching into a silver mixing bowl while I scramble to get some food into the now-hyper 20 month old with a new lease on life, who is insisting on rearranging furniture as James tries to clean a little bit for his friends. I finally get everyone down, and spend a few hours tending to Cadence as she tries to get some rest between bouts of sickness...I will say, it is easier dealing with her illness since she's older and can ask for the bowl in advance, but the poor dear seems to be a bit more affronted by the experience, having amassed a bit more dignity over the years to be lost in the betrayal of her belly. There was much more emotional fallout, if fewer sheet changes. Until, that is, Hazel vomits in her sleep again. Since I foolishly thought she was done with that, she wasn't on a bed of towels and we are back to changing sheets, this time moving a queasy and definitely not sleeping Cadence around as little and as gingerly as possible to do so. Oi. I spend the rest of the night fussing over my two poor sick girls, a maniac with a big metal bowl and a pack of wetwipes.

Day Two: In the morning, after Hazel bounces awake and right onto Cadence's tummy, Cadence stretches, smiles, and responds to my inquiry into how she's feeling with a jovial "good enough to get my own breakfast this morning!" And they're off. A bit weak, a bit fussy, and they both crashed into nap-land about an hour ago, but I think, knock on wood, we may have survived this round. (as long as James and I don't get simultaneously sick while these two rebound into CRAZY HAPPY HEALTHY KID-dom.)

Before you know it...

2011-12-15T21:38:00.000-05:00

ME: (Singing) He knows when you are sleeping! He knows when you're awake! He knows if you've been bad or good, so be good for goodness' sake! (speaking) I have that song stuck in my head, isn't that silly?

CADENCE: Yes, it sure is. Mom, can you sing it again, the whole thing?

ME: Sure! (singing) You better watch out, you better not cry, you better not pout I'm telling you why. Santa claus is coming to town. He knows when you are sleeping, he knows when you're awake! He knows if you've been bad or good so be good for goodness' sake! Oh, frosty...wait...so...santa claus is comin' to town...(speaking) pretty neat, huh? kinda. Hm. What do you think about all that, Cadence?

CADENCE: Oh, a lot.

ME: A lot?! Wow, that's cool...like what?

CADENCE: Like, how I don't really think Santa is real, but everyone else does.

ME: Oh really? What makes you think that?

CADENCE: I just think that Santa isn't really just one person, I think everyone is santa. Everyone is really santa, because we all give each other gifts, even if we know. Everyone we know.

ME: ...I really like your theory, Cadence.

Tea Party Shoot!

2011-11-16T12:34:00.000-05:00

So, remember the teaser I posted back in September, with the girls having a tea party in a meadow? Well, the album board is finally up on Lelia's Photography Blog!

Click the link below to see the photos in all their scrumptious glory!

Lelia Marie Photography - Fantasy Tea Party!

SO PROUD!!!

Happy Halloween Happenings

2011-10-31T09:55:00.000-04:00

On our way to school this morning, Cadence broke from a deep reverie with great excitement to tell me:

"mama! Fourteenth and Fulton are alliterative! Because they both start with a 'ffff-ffff' 'F'!"

What a great start to this all hallows eve!

Twilight zone.

2011-10-29T11:48:00.002-04:00

I feel like I'm in some alternate reality today.

It's been a surprisingly mild fall season so far. We haven't even busted out the heavy coats yet, the highs have been mostly in the 50's and 60's, so we haven't had any reason to complain. This has made us complacent about the time change that is quickly approaching (is that next week already?!) and we've gotten TOTALLY off of our normal sleep schedule. This is probably the main contributing factor to the fact that, for the past several days, getting Hazel to go to sleep has been like attempting to put the freakin' Energizer Bunny to bed. She just keeps going and going and going...you think she's out and she hops back up, does a dance, flops down, demands Moonshadow for the bazillionth time, tries to wake her sister, and beats a new rhythm with her hands while trying to make me give her Elmo baby milk. sigh.

The result of the fact that it has been taking at least two hours to get her to sleep is that I often fall asleep (first?) too, and have gotten NOTHING done that I need to do, which leads me to wake up stressed in the middle of the night /wee hours of the morning, unwilling to get up to do anything, but not really resting...so that is what I assumed was happening when Cadence and Hazel woke me up this morning, demanding oatmeal. (Yes, Hazel can say things like "oatmeal" now.) It was still dark outside, and I immediately began to think about how much I could get done on Hazel's Halloween costumes before the sun rose...but when I finally hurled myself off the bed, I realized the dark was cloud cover, and we'd actually slept in.

So here we are, a couple days before halloween, I am in a sleep-deprived other-world, worrying about halloween costumes in this weather that doesn't seem particularly un-summer-y yet, and...wait, is that...SNOW???

Yep. That cloud cover was a snowstorm brewin'. The flakes are coming down thick and fast, and Hazel is totally awed, and has been standing in the window (wearing nothing but a diaper, mind you, the kid doesn't believe in 'cold') shouting about the "snow fall down!!" for the past half an hour.

I don't remember snow this early in the year since I was really little, and in fact I remember being disappointed in years where the first snow came later, and later- but always before my December birthday...and then it started coming even later than that...so this is exciting and slightly baffling and in my slightly dazed state the only thing I can think about is whether this will effect our brunch plans today.

Anyway, I've gotta run, Cadence says "the show is about to begin!" and Hazel is beginning the applause...my attention is needed elsewhere.

Happy first snow of the season, folks! Stay warm!

Gawking at the snow, which you can't really see in this pic!)

iphone cam doesn't really capture the falling snow...trust me, it's there.

They were "staying dry"!

Blogging from the blue school

2011-10-04T11:45:00.001-04:00

I have a rare moment of downtime on my hands, with Cadence in class and Hazel asleep on my chest, so I figured I could do something adult-y and get something done, or at least do something for myself...but times like this are so rare that I actually have no idea what to do, and find myself totally unprepared! I thought maybe I could get some backed up blogging done, but none of the drafts currently languishing in unfinished limbo are stored on my phone, and I figured I should probably reacquaint myself with this culture of mobile blogging apps before I try to do anything too serious.

That and I'm kind of obsessed with last Thursday's photoshoot, and one image in particular...

Now, I've been resisting posting too many shots because I don't want to spoil the wow factor of the professional shots when they come in, but my goodness, i can hardly stand it, it is my new favorite image, it's the background of my comp, I can't stop looking at it (and then going to squeeze these girls in big mama bear hugs, because they are so unbelievably awesome, and that picture just reminds me of all the awesome, and makes me feel like my heart and head are about to explode.) And since I put the darn thing on my phone I've been struggling to resist the urge to show it to EVERYONE I encounter here at the school, so I figured a safe compromise would be to stick it on here, lest I become THAT mom...so ya wanna see? Here ya go!

I mean, seriously? I snapped that on my broken point-and-shoot...just imagine what Lelia's artistry and technical skill with a camera will bring to the table...I cannot wait to see her finished spread with details and environmental shots and...

I am one very proud Mama.

Sneak peak

2011-09-29T18:44:00.001-04:00

What we've been up to:

Oh so much more to come...

Sums it up.

2011-09-14T17:28:00.001-04:00

If I were into making mastheads, this would be the picture I would use:

Pretty much sums it up.

911

2011-09-11T23:46:00.000-04:00

10 years ago today, I did not live in New York City.

I was getting myself ready for my WKU classes that day, which meant getting into my swimming suit and gathering my books. Mom came home from dropping off Kelly, who was so small then, at school, and said she'd just heard on the radio that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. She turned on the news just in time to for us to see the second plane hit the second tower. I don't think either of us could process it - I retreated into the bathroom to change, contemplating what could possibly have gone wrong to cause such an egregious accident, with two pilots in two planes on the same day...

I opened the door to the bathroom and walked down the hall towards the living room where the tv was blaring and my mom sat with her hand over her mouth, her eyes watery, and my heart sank. In retrospect, it was like my childhood disappeared with that realization that there was no accident.

I went to class, and I don't remember if we swam that day, but I remember our swimming instructor talking to us about the choice we faced to continue as normal or not, and what each choice meant on a deeper level. And I remember all the TVs in the complex being tuned into the coverage, live images of the towers, smoke, and the stomach-churning images of poor souls jumping from impossible heights to certain death.

I don't remember where I was, but I remember seeing the towers fall...first one, the smoke, the running, the fear I felt for the people who were not yet my neighbors, and then the gut wrenching realization that the building was just gone ...I must have gone home. I was in my living room again to see the second tower fall - and from that moment on I don't remember that autumn very well.

10 years ago today, I wrote two blog entries, the first a desperate plea to my New England friends to be careful and stay away from major targets. The other was my 16 year old self's honest reaction to what was happening all around me:

One more bloody history in the making

2001-09-11 - 6:04 p.m.

So they've proved what any good fighter would tell you in the first place: you don't use the big showy kicks to win the fight. you bash their heads in with your elbows, and go for the groin with your knees. you use what you know of course, and you never let your guard down. For all the fuss about multi-million-dollar big shot weaponry, we are tipped over by intelligence. if you always follow the expected-even if you only deviate from that a little-is to play into your enemies hands. Unless you are increadibly well prepared-to an unfathomable degree. Why would they sink fortunes into weapons? you get a better surprise factor if you use their own objects, whose potential to be out of the ordinary has been all but forgotten.

So what now? Does this young generation suddenly lose its prize of being the first in history to grow up and old without a major war going on? or is our media eating their own shit once more, like the hundreds of times it has before? People say "its the second pearl harbor" but where is the war to be dragged into? all around us, for sure; but it is much less honorable to give things an official beggining than it is to join a war thats already begun.

perhaps I'm a lunatic, perhaps we weren't actually supposed to believe those lessons that love is the way to live life, and that violence leads no where. That the best way to get rid of a bully is to ignore them. I can't help but to see this not as a grand adult gesture of intellectual or physical superiority, but as a pair of two-year-old boys on a playground, shoving eachother to the ground.

The great eagle has woken from its slumber, its eyes glowing red as it reaches out and crushes something in its great sharp talons.

that image is my dad's, but I can't get it out of my head. I can't help but to let my imagination wander into places that make my waking self shed tears.

Somehow, I can't think of a single phrase to say.

from the depths of my soul - to the breath of the world

10 years, and look where we are today.

We are mourning so much.

***

While I was not here for the event itself, I did visit ground zero myself a few weeks later. I was pursuing my dream of attending NYU's Tisch School of the Arts and studying theater, and my dad and I flew to the Big Apple for my Big Audition. It went splendidly, I was prepared in every way, I was confident, I loved what I was doing, I had the support I needed...and then Dad and I walked (with me auditioning my Self as we went - Can I really live here? Can I truly survive? Will I make it on my own?) from what would become my home-away-from-home at 721 Broadway down to where the towers no longer stood to pay our respects.

Or at least, as close as one could get. The air felt thick and impure, I was shocked at how tangible the particles in the air felt against my lungs, even so long after the attacks. I remember seeing pieces of buildings resting on other buildings, lampposts at wrong angles, a layer of dust still covering much of what we could see - which, in reality, wasn't much. But what struck me most of all was the smell. That acrid, terrible odor that went straight from the nose to the lizard-brain, screaming in that primal non-language: "Danger! Death! Something-is-not-right."

But it wasn't, quite. It was masked, albeit insufficiently, but the sickeningly sweet smell of roasted nuts. I don't know why, but it seemed as if the roasted-nut vendors were taking it upon themselves to ease the burden of that constant olfactory reminder of neighborhood tragedy; I remember them being lined up around the safety-zone perimeter - no hot dogs, no pretzels, just nuts - roasting endlessly...I was struck by their presence, beyond the smell, to see them selling to tourists and grieving locals - I couldn't decide if it was a shameful act, or one to be commended; an odd f-u to the terrorists themselves, profiting from their cruel acts in a simple, honest way, going about their business as best they could, and hiding the smell of death from the living wanting to continue on.

To this day, I cannot walk past a roasted-nut vendor without remembering that day, and that smell.

2001-11-16 - 10:46 a.m.

The smell of something rank, vaguely reminiscient of sour milk, that I know must be the scent of rotting flesh and ever settling dust, smoldering in the air.

What they keep from our eyes can't escape our noses.

Or our hearts.

from the depths of my soul - to the breath of the world

***

My life carried on, haltingly for reasons of its own, and despite the fact that my transcript was quarantined in a New Jersey post office that had been contaminated with anthrax, I was accepted to Tisch and moved to Manhattan in August of the following year.

9 years ago today, I did live in New York City. I was here for the first anniversary of Black Tuesday, and I was so glad I was. I wasn't here when disaster struck; but I was here to hold up those who were. I maintained safe rooms for students and faculty that needed a place to go. I held friends I hadn't met as they let their grief pour out. I held hands of those who couldn't speak. I listened to personal stories of the year before, things you'd never here on the news; friends who lived in the dorm down the street, friends who were excitedly going to their very first day of training, friends who watched it all from the park where it felt like the world was turning upside down...

I chose to come here at a time when many people were choosing to get out, and I have never regretted that decision for a moment.

This city is vibrant, and alive as any creature. She has her good days, and days when her being feels just vile, but there is always a pulse, a drumbeat in the background of movement, of life, of happening. But on the 11th of September, every year since, that frantic living stops; we hear silence, the city becomes still, as if all of New York is holding its breath, waiting for the pain to subside, before disappearing back into the rush of the blessed 12th.

Today was no exception. Kelly, grown now, and pursuing dreams of her own, is here today, visiting me and my wonderful family in our home in Harlem. We watched the reading of the names on the local news, but we ultimately chose to honor the dead by living, by not lingering on the fear and anger such a vile act drums up. We played with the kids, we cooked, and cleaned, and worked, and ate. And we went to the grocery store. I felt it as soon as we walked out the door, that old familiar, otherworldly urban stillness, that feeling of existing in a ghost town. As we walked home, Kelly turned to me, Cadence chatting at her side, Hazel toddling noisily by mine, and said "it's so silent!" And I knew just what she meant. New York can't breathe today. The ghosts are about, it is a day of mourning.

Eerie

2002-09-11 - 2:44 p.m.

The wind blew hard, whipping sand in the faces on the few people left on the street. Somewhere in the distance a churchbell began to toll. The sun was in the middle of the sky, and the clouds rolled mournfully above the dusty landscape.

silence reigned. The sound of the wind carried no voices, no heavy footsteps. I stood waiting for the signal, my nerves on end. There was a complacent tension in the air, everyone had a tacit understanding of the situation. The signal came, Ilooked both ways, and walked across the street. Today, there were no taxis to nearly run me over.

I began to feel that the wind was made up of all the souls who were lost, and that the sand it was forcing under my skin was recreating their wounds in my body. Perhaps this is a way to keep us from forgetting, if the living bear the scars of the dead. The bustle of this famous road is muffled, crowded with people who feel that their lives could be in danger, and those whose memories are plagued. They are all just looking for each others hearts.

from the depths of my soul - to the breath of the world

As I read that now, I have disturbing inklings of what that 'sand' may have been; there should not have been such particles about - there has been less foreign substance to the air in subsequent years - and with the destruction yet so new and near, I shudder to think how literal my musings could have been.

But today there was no wind, no sand. The only significant sounds were the newly independent footsteps of Hazel, and the increasingly aware conversation of Cadence as they, these two beautiful, vibrant girls walked down the streets of this city they call home, the city they were born in, the city they don't see as broken because they've never seen it any other way...and it really does all make sense. Terribly cheesy as it may be; they hold the future in their tiny hands, and to them it is beautiful, full, and open.

Mayhap it is simply that their inheritance of the reigns has removed the need for sandy scars, and offered the ghosts some peace.

Mine!

2011-09-11T14:44:00.001-04:00

Hazel has arrived at the stage where she prefers to walk instead of being toted in the wrap. I snapped this pic the other day, the first time she walked all the way from our apartment to the train, down all the steps, and sat on the seat with her jie jie all by herself. (holding hands, of course.) This lady's growin' up!

Yep, I loves them.

Tomatoes, anyone?

2011-09-09T16:51:00.001-04:00

This is what happens when you're spending down your credit at your CSA and your sister starts working for another, and diverts her 'pay' into feeding your family fresh veggies. This is way more locally grown, farm fresh tomatoes than any manhattanite without their own restaurant has any business having in their kitchen at one time. And this is only what we're freezing, and doesn't include all the ones we've already eaten, or the ones that (sadly) went bad before we got to them. We are certainly not complaining!

Vegetables.

2011-09-02T14:18:00.001-04:00

It's official, our refrigerator looks like a jungle:

The big wet apple-still going strongish, sorta

2011-08-28T19:20:00.002-04:00

Somehow the winds have been slowly picking up as the day has gone on, and now they are pretty sustained and strong. Evidently a separate tropical storm warning was issued this afternoon because it is so strong. I've tried several times to get a good picture of the trees blowing and bending in the wind, but it's remarkably difficult to capture (on an iPhone). Here are a couple shots to show you what a rainless tropical storm looks like:

Can you see how much it's leaning? (no? sorry, my photography sucks.)

Can you tell it's blustery in this one? (Still no? Gah. How 'bout dramatic clouds?)

I got a text from Kelly a bit ago saying they'd just lost power at the farm from all the wind, so it seems we aren't the only ones feeling the post-storm winds. She'd reported earlier in the day that they'd weathered the storm with just a few downed trees and minimal flooding...then she sent me lots of pics of her covered in kittens. I don't think she's suffering too much.

The big wet apple makes lemonade (and tea!)

2011-08-28T17:11:00.003-04:00

So what do you do when you've got gallons and gallons of water leftover after a non-storm? Well, the same thing you do when life hands you lemons...you make lemonade! (and tea.)

Step one: take a bunch of lemons (and one citrus fruit that can't decide if it's a lemon or a lime, added to the mix by our lovingly open minded 16 month old), wash 'em and cut them in half.

Step two: squeeze the lemon halves into the pitcher of water, then drop the rinds in.

Note: if you can have your 4 year old do it, it adds a spark of magic.

While the big girl is doing the grunt work, cover the Giant stock pot full of water and turn on the burner it's already sitting on.

Try to ignore the awful reflection on your awesome shiny stock pot, and return to lemon squeezing.

Once the lemons are all in, squeeze in some agave nectar under the theory that since its liquid it'll mix better.

Once your stock pot boils, add a whole bunch of teabags, and turn off the heat.

It'll turn into tea pretty quickly after that! Let it steep to your desired strength. Let it cool for iced tea!

Back to the lemonade: now its time to shake shake shake! You can enlist the little one to help with this job.

Of course, teamwork never hurts, either. But that's it, then serve & enjoy, with an emphasis on enjoy!

The big wet apple-maybe not so wet?

2011-08-28T10:57:00.001-04:00

Good morning!
Hm, wasn't there supposed to be some kinda storm or something?

In case you can't tell through the wet window, that's...nothing. A few kids meandering down the sidewalk in shorts and t-shirts. Sigh. Guess we did all that prep for nuthin. Oh well, better safe than sorry.

I woke up around 7 and it seemed too quiet for a storm, and i was suspicious because the cats with all their good animal instincts were not at all worried and were doing their usual FEED US NOW routine, but I tried to imagine raging winds of nature earning some respect from these urbanites...and my phone kept chiming with warning texts from the city about flooding and road closures...alas, when I got up and peered out the window, I just saw a pretty standard wet morning, people milling about, no weather events at all. We stayed up for a couple hours after my last post, and evidently that one gust was kinda it, the worst it got. I don't even see leaves down from the trees.

So much for "the height of the storm" occurring between "8am and noon" as they said last night...our bathroom didn't even leak any more. (maybe it IS the neighbors, after all?)

In other cute news, Hazel helped me feed the cats this morning, and managed to get wet cat food ON the cats...all in all, far more destructive than our experience of Irene.

So anyway, now to fried CSA eggs and rolls for breakfast, then the commencement of operation cool- the-freakin'-house-down!

The Big Wet Apple - let the games begin!

2011-08-28T01:20:00.002-04:00

....AAAAAnd thar she blows! Hello Irene!

Not the worst thing ever at this point, but equaling the worst weather we've seen here for long enough for us to declare defeat and remove the last AC. Operation overheat-the-house step 7, complete.

Also, good Kentucky Bourbon as a nightcap, and we're out. See ya in the AM, hopefully!!
Stay safe, all!

The Big Wet Apple - sweet dreams

2011-08-28T00:58:00.002-04:00

The girls are (finally) asleep, and the rain is occasionally looking more scary and going at a sort of an angle, but only in spurts and gusts, and then it dies right back down.

Operation overheat-the-house continues with step 6, close up all the windows before bedtime. Given the calm-ish demeanor of the current weather we haven't taken the bedroom AC out yet, so we'll still need to move to step 7 before long...

The Big Wet Apple - Hurricane Holiday

2011-08-27T23:40:00.004-04:00

So, I'm staring at a tree across the street from our kitchen window, and it's standing completely still. NY1 is reporting power outages in queens and staten island, possibly some in brooklyn, too, and they say some places are already beginning to flood, but here there are still folks hanging out in the street, the rain steady, but not even as heavy as it was a couple weeks ago when we returned to the city after several months away and had to move back in in a thunderstorm...the leak in the bathroom has reduced to a few beads that drip occasionally, and according to the radar, we're being pommeled right now...but evidently we're in a weather bubble where not much is happening. So, what have we been up to instead?

Why, baking cookies with the girls, of course! Operation overheat-the-house step 5, complete.

Anyway, here's a look out our window. not much to see, yet:

The big wet apple-the anticipatory boredom

2011-08-27T22:02:00.002-04:00

We just had a five minute debate over whether or not it is even raining.
(it is, but not very hard.) (The leak in the bathroom confirms this.)

This after Cadence and Hazel put on he LOUDEST show they've ever put on, from the pedestal of the kitchen stool. Hope the neighbors enjoyed the music! These kids have great lungs!

On the Shape of Cookies

2011-08-27T21:17:00.002-04:00

At the end of an unsuccessful search for her star-shaped cookie cutter:

Cadence: "But, Baba, are we ever going to find it? If we never find it, then I'll be stuck with oval cookies forever!"

(I then reminded her we had some other cookie cutters she could use... she is now physically unable to contain her joy.)

The big wet apple- the heat rises

2011-08-27T20:30:00.002-04:00

Dinner time!
Made some sautéed greens (fresh from Channery Hill Farm where Kelly is interning) and paired it with some fresh mini penne that Hazel picked out...Operation overheat-the-house step 4 complete!

In other news, the rain picked up a tad, and now mr. WeatherDude is saying there is a tornado watch...and that the eye of Irene is tracking directly towards us...

Oo, look! Now the 'on location' reporter is berating some genius who's at the (closed) beach, surfing. Genius says "c'mon, it's a category 1, Come on out and surf!"
"are you for real??"
"yeah, its nothin'!"

Personal opinion; if you are told "DANGER GET OUT" and you CHOOSE not to, the first responders should not have an obligation to risk their lives to save your butt.

The big wet apple-disaster begins!

2011-08-27T18:49:00.001-04:00

Oh look, it finally started to rain!

Wait, what's that?

Aha. So, that really sporadic leak the maintenance guy thought was from the upstairs neighbor's failure to use a shower curtain seems, in reality, to be A LEAK IN THE ROOF, trickling down several stories to drip from our bathroom doorframe. (we're on the second floor here, folks, how is this possible?!)

Well, wanting to minimize damage from a possible torrent when the storm actually hits (it's still a solid drizzle at the moment...), we've taken extreme leak collection measures:

Good thing we have two bathrooms, huh?

The Big Wet Apple - the calm before the storm

2011-08-27T12:52:00.011-04:00

This morning, when we finally dragged ourselves out of bed after one of those cozy wonderful lazy mornings with the kids playing on and around us while we 'slept', the sky was a whitish grey, and the world seemed deadly calm. No leaves rustled in the trees on the street below, no birds, no vermin, no bugs...hardly any cars, and the few people who were on the street were all hurriedly carrying bags of groceries and exhibiting an excited calm. Looking out our living room window, we could see the ominous darkness approaching from beyond the empire state building like the nothing from the neverending story.

Watching hurricane Irene (a storm which, incidentally, shares its name with my maternal grandmother), we thought it might be fun to blog through this adventure as it happens! As long as we have power, we'll try to check in whenever we notice something noteworthy. To play catchup:

Morning:

Still dead calm outside, we begin to hear a far-off voice, seemingly amplified, drawing ever nearer...turns out it was a prostlytizer, preaching about the dark times and the guidance christ would give us through the quite literal storm. Wandering around on foot with some sort of microphone under his giant black umbrella, spreading his word to the empty streets. It somehow managed to be simultaneously eerie, pitiful, and cute.

We turned on NY1 to check in on the latest...the reporter standing at the south ferry began getting pelted with rain, so it was off to throw everyone in the shower one last time before the storm hit. Everyone clean and dry, the rain came...and then left.

Watching the news, the con ed rep made the rather amusing statement that it snows all year round in NYC. Huh, I didn't know that!

Cadence is concerned by the language they use to describe the storm, and keeps asking us why we're gonna "get hit."

Found some more containers fit for holding potable water, and decided to take advantage...we've been boiling & bottling/jarring water for just-in-case storage instead of buying jugs of it. Operation overheat-the-house step one complete.

Speaking of water, time to fill up the tub with water - not to drink, but to have on hand for such things as toilet flushing or washing things, should such a need arise. Uh oh, our bathroom drain doesn't work...DIY bathroom plug to the rescue! James sealed the drain with duct tape, and then I found an old silicone shoe insert, covered the drain with that, placed a washcloth over that and topped it all off with a mug. Seems to work pretty well!

Afternoon:

It doesn't feel very hurricane-y around here. Only the lightest of breezes, the pigeons came out again, no rain, still cloudy, but the streets are full of foot traffic. No buses, though, which is odd...the MTA officially shut down all public transit at noon.

Oh! the MTA did do one thing I was actually proud of, though...they suspended fares for the last trains in evacuation areas (meaning people could ride for free) and allowed passengers to take pets with them (this is usually heavily restricted). Go MTA! Showing a human side!

James roasted the chicken we got from our CSA earlier this week. Smells AMAZING in here. Operation overheat-the-house step 2 complete.

Fresh baked bread? mmm, awesome! Operation overheat-the-house step 3 complete.

Really decadent hot-from-the-oven roast-chicken sandwiches with farm-fresh greens & tomatoes on bread fresh out of the oven for lunch? Not very hunker-down-adventure-like, but awesome. And tasty.

Cadence is now worried that we're not gonna get hit after all.

We'll check back in soon! Love to you all!