Here and There

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Back to School

Not only are all the naked ladies out, a classic sign of school beginning, but the streets are covered with brown leaves. We all know these are not actually signs of autumn. These are signs of Indian Summer. Today will be blisteringly hot and there is no bite to the morning or evening air. But, it's that lovely dusty air transitional time that I love so well and have written about every late August since starting this blog. So this year, I'm watering the yard--a little sheepishly because I know we're very close to our suggested maximum "units", but I'm watering anyhow because I don't mind when leaves or even summer flowers turn brown and crackly this time of year, but I kind of hate a crackly lawn.

This time of year also always reminds me of the album Very Emergency by The Promise Ring. I listened to it a lot when Peter and I were first dating and it was also this time of year. This lyric is from the title track.

"And soon the room can't tell you were here,
and there's dust in my hair
and dusty air has gone crazy for something late in the year,
and water everywhere."

It looks an awkward rhyme written, but to hear it to music it is perfect.

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

I love this guy.

I was looking for some exercise dvds online and I came across "Sweatin' to the Oldies". Remember this? Isn't Richard Simmons one of the sweetest little guys? He is so sweet talking to fat people and he's so little and energetic. He cries, he giggles. I kinda want to buy this DVD. But I would imagine that after a couple times of "Sweatin' to the Oldies" I'd be sick of the songs and he would annoy me. I like him best as a guest on Oprah or running down the aisle on David Letterman. But, call me crazy, I do think he's pretty adorable.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008


No, this isn't my home. It's Vikingsholm on Emerald Bay at Lake Tahoe. We visited this place twice during our vacation to Tahoe . (We only went on the tour once) I was utterly charmed by the whole place and like imagining myself living there for the summer.

This painted closet inspired me to want to paint little things in unexpected places in my house.

The kitchen was bright and airy. The whole house seemed very well appointed and functional as well as downright lovely. I like that combination.

One of the best things about coming home was that Alexis had blogged while I was gone.

Wednesday, August 06, 2008

Happy Birthday

Dear Lillian,

On your first birthday I am sad, and happy. Mostly when I look at you today I am proud. I am proud of you for growing and adapting to your world. I am proud of every little inch of your smooth soft skin. Your brain, your starry blue eyes. Your crazy gapped teeth. I am proud that you can climb on to that weird dragon rocking thing all by yourself like you're nonchalantly climbing onto a horse. I am proud of how your sounds have changed from coos to shrieks to words. You've got a great voice. It's musical.

I've always found you incredibly charming. When you were born and I was so happy to see you I was actually taken aback..."She's so cute, isn't she?!" I said over and over. "I think she's just so cute." You were cute, but you were also so yourself, even when you were so new. You would gaze at me, you would reach out with your hands, you would shake your head like animal from the muppets right before you would eat. So crazy! You also had this look about you that was beyond me. Sometimes when you would look at me like I was the most amazing thing you'd ever seen, I would just marvel: "She thinks I'm so great, but look at her, look at her!"

I've loved watching you learn. Remembering the first time you saw things and tried to make sense of them. Candles on Christmas Eve, the way sun shows the dust suspended in the air, the cat, raindrops, snow.

I am glad you are one. But I miss Baby Lily a little bit. When you were so small, you were soft in my arms and didn't straighten your back or wriggle. When you were just a baby we would spend hours nursing, laying in bed or watching Ellen. When you were itsy bitsy you would laugh when I would sing "Whose my pretty baby?" Now you find humor in how echoey your voice is when you talk into a cup. You crawl like a little bear. You stand and clap your hands without anybody holding you up. You say things like "Balloon" and bark like a dog with such gusto and personality.

Grow little girl! Grow! I'm lucky enough to know you so well from the beginning. No matter how much you grow and change I'll have Baby Lily love to last me. So much of this last year was me trying to memorize your always changing little self. Just when I had it, you'd change. But somehow, my prize as your mom is having these blurry memories of you as a tiny baby, clear enough to be true, fuzzy enough to be even more perfect than reality. So I send you off into year two unfettered-I'll keep my nostalgia for your baby days to myself and let you grow. (Not that there's much I could do about it anyway.)