June 28, 2008

California Time

We found our red clock in our boxes and haven't had the heart to move it ahead three hours. We're all still fighting the time change-- going to bed at midnight and waking up at 10 a.m.

Last night I had a dream that I was at a party at my friend Cynthia's house in California. All of my friends were there, and they were all eating these gorgeous cakes, mousses, pies, and tarts from the bakery. They looked so yummy, piled high with whipped cream (which is on my list of top ten favorite foods). Everyone was raving about how fabulous they tasted and how I really should try some. I am still (in real life) attempting to be wheat- and dairy-free because the Buckaroo is allergic, and I'm still nursing him. So, in the dream I'm eating salad, and it's a lovely salad, tangy, maybe a bit too much arugula, which might be on my top ten list of least favorite foods. I'm saying no, no, I'll pass on dessert. I can't have that. Really, I'm enjoying this salad, so delicious.


Then I woke up and it was foggy and chilly outside, but somehow still humid, and I thought: Here I am in my big Massachusetts salad with giant arugula mosquitoes. I was in a funk all morning.

But hallelujah in a handbasket, we found some good-smelling mosquito repellent. It's Burt's Bees, and it's kind of pricey, so I think I might use the ingredients to make my own. We'll see. R can't stand the smell of repellent, so every time I go near him he sniffs at me and scrunches up his nose.


In other news: I don't know if I've mentioned, but the blue jays out here are much prettier than the California jays. See for yourself: This one is from Yosemite. The one above is a New England jay.

Today we went to a street fair sort of thing, where I bought eight books for 80 cents! Woo hoo! Then we ogled some antiques, and I bought some sweet glass salt and pepper shakers with silver lids. Also, they had a tin-topped table just like ours. I've never seen one before, so maybe it's an East Coast thing.


Then we had sandwiches on something called a bulkie (I keep calling it a bunchie, and the big kids roll their eyes at me). It looks suspiciously like a kaiser roll. People here are also big on purple cow ice cream, but I have yet to discover what flavor this really is.


We planned to go to church tomorrow, but it turns out all of the Unitarians out here take off for the summer and don't come back 'til fall. Crazy UUs. We may check out the Congregationalists instead because we really want to meet some people.


Later, R put together a tether ball and pole. I have to say I doubted his ability to do this, but it's done. Oh, me of little faith. We played a few mean games of tether ball until Obo accidentally smacked Sweet Potato in the noggin, and they both swore they'd never play again.
Back to the drawing board.
Obo reminded me that I never posted a photo of him with his spiffy new haircut. So here he is at graduation with his friend Girl of No Words:

Isn't he a handsome English, er, American bloke?

June 25, 2008

A Day at Home


Seriously, am I the only one who thinks this sign is funny?
Buckaroo and I spent most of the day solo because R and the big kids drove The Cousin to the airport, and I had to wait for the movers to deliver our stuff.
I decided to sit outside and be quiet and see what I could see. Mary Oliver makes it sound so romantic. Oliver did not, I believe, have a toddler. There's not much sitting with Buckaroo. We did catch a glimpse of a hummingbird, though. My first Massachusetts hummingbird! It was gone so quickly I couldn't even say what color it was.
Our stuff was delivered, too. It feels weird to have it here-- like someone took all of my insides and put them in another person's body. I'm happy to have my treasures, but it takes away from the vacationy feeling I was enjoying so much.
Later, R and I took Buckaroo down to the water to watch the sunset, and the fish were going crazy. They were jumping out of the lake left and right. I love to watch fish jump. It's like watching falling stars. I can't wait to go fishing, and I really want to learn how to fly fish. Maybe that will be my goal for the summer instead of water skiing because it looks like Bob the Boatman is never coming to fix the boat.
I told our neighbor, G, that I want to learn how to snowshoe in the winter. She said it's really hard, but she has snowshoes, and she'll go out with me when I'm ready. I didn't imagine it would be difficult. Foiled again. Well, I'm still going to attempt it, but I'll attempt it without the Buckaroo until I get the hang of things.
In the meantime-- my bike is here! Yay! R bought me a new bike while I was preggypotamus, and I've maybe ridden it three times ever. I can't wait to explore.

June 24, 2008

What is This?


That's what I ask myself several times a day. This is picture is of the little piney-ferny stuff I mentioned in a previous post.
Today was mostly sunny with one brief thunder storm. Hurrah! Unfortunately, the boat man did not show up. Stinky boat man.
I made a big trip into Gardner today and found Priscilla's candy store. YeeHaw. I just about bought the place out, I think. Then I mosied (it's the kinda town that makes you want to mosey) up to the 50s style diner. I had myself a rootbeer float. The little gal behind the counter brought me a tankard of rootbeer with three giant scoops of vanilla and a bowl underneath to catch the falling foam. Golden oldies were playing on the radio, too.
My first car in high school was a Mazda GLC, and it had only an AM radio, so all I could listen to was the oldies station. I know every word to every bee bop song ever written, possibly.
There I was dipping my fries in ketchup, slurping down my vat of rootbeer, humming along with "Shop Around," a gigantic bag o' candy sitting on the stool next to me. I could really get used to this place.
Here are some different things I've noticed:
There's one parking meter for two cars-- punch the left or right button-- R says this is yankee thrift.
Everybody asks me if I'm a Red Sox fan. I'm not sure how to respond to this as I'm not a fan of sports at all. Maybe I should say, "I'm an Austen fan." Oh, but then they might think I mean Austin, Texas. Do they have a team?
Also, when driving along the windy roads, there are signs that say, "Thickly Settled" to let the driver know there are many houses ahead-- I'm guessing-- but when I first saw this sign I cracked up. I told R it sounds like what's happened to my hips.

Poppies and Tea and Rain


Yay! The boat man is coming tomorrow to fix the boat. No more spewing smoke! (This is not our boat in the picture, by the way. It just happened to be in the sunset.)
Today during a break in the rain Buckaroo and I scattered California poppy seeds in the garden (Thanks Ellie!) I don't know if they'll grow because the directions said they like full sun and drought, and it's all shady and wet around here. Maybe just one poppy?
Oh, but here's a cool thing about the rain. There are so many trees that it's hard to tell sometimes when the rain has stopped because the wind blows and it shakes more water off of the leaves, and it feels like rain all over again.
Today I also found an excellent recipe for sweet tea. I've never been able to make a good batch of the stuff, but I've been craving it since we got here. Something about the humidity I guess. So this is the best sweet tea ever! McDonald's has got nothin' on it. I think I might use a tad less sugar next time, and I sure do wish I had a meyer lemon to squeeze over it instead of the regular old kind. Ah, well. One cup at a time.
In other news, my mom has her own blog now. It's almost as sweet as that tea. Check it out!

June 23, 2008

On the Water


I could get used to this lake business.
Yesterday it rained all day, and after the excitment of the thunder and lighnting wore off it was miserable. We all stayed inside and got snippy with each other.
Then after dinner, miraculously, the sky cleared. R and I went down to the water, and he showed me a fish nest. It's a circle in the sand in the shallow water, and the fish was sweeping it out with her tail. I'm assuming it was a girl-fish. Very cool. There were baby fish darting all about, too. There was no one on the lake, and everything was so still. We dashed up to the house and told the kids to put on their suits.
The bummer about the boat is that it's kind of a mess and very environmentally unfriendly at the moment. We have much guilt about this, but we don't yet have a hitch on the car to take the boat in for fixing. R is working on it right now, actually.
We took a couple of spins on the water, and I even had my turn in the tube-- which reminded me that I'm not longer a spring chicken, maybe a late summer chicken. I might have accused R of trying to kill me so he could get himself a new wife.
Then Buckaroo and I hung out on the beach, and he chased the ants (they are the most gigantic ants I've ever seen) while the kids took another turn.
Well, it's after noon, and I really should change out of my pajamas . . . .

June 22, 2008

A Little Lightning

Today was sunny. The kids were playing rattlesnake toss in front of the house, and I hung laundry out on the line. Buckaroo seems to have recovered from his fevered state and was practicing stair climbing.

Then, a few drops.

We came inside to close the windows, and while I was nursing Buckaroo lightning and thunder struck at the same time. A huge crash. It made my heart leap and Buckaroo jumped up to see what was happening. And there it was, a torrential downpour.

R says he's missed this kind of rain. I am not yet a fan of rain in the summertime. In the Bay Area there is the season of rain and the season of no rain. One is a bit chillier than the other, but not always. Summer means dry, dust, sometimes drought. I don't miss the drought.

R says there isn't a rainless season in The Woods. Bah.

Other things I have learned after one week in The Woods:

There is a way to hang shirts on the line so they don't have pinched shoulders
Wait until evening to water the garden because it may rain
Wear mosquito repellent at all times
Mosquitoes are not above biting one's skull and palms
Having a dishwasher does not mean no dish washing-- in fact it seems to increase dish use
Everyone has his own way of building a puzzle, but some are more effective than others
It's sometimes difficult to tell the difference between a jello mold and a cake pan
It's never a good idea to bake a cake in a jello mold, and results can be quite messy and ruin a perfectly good Harvey Wallbanger cake

June 20, 2008

Eyeballing the Birds


R and I hiked in the forest again today, and I thought I spotted my first cardinal. Turns out it was a scarlet tanager.

June 18, 2008

Mass Meanderings (continued)


Here's the mountain laurel. This one is tinged pink, but most of the bushes around the house are white.
Yesterday we visited another local library, and we met a girl who will be in highschool with Obo. She was extraordinarily friendly and even found Obo's book for him (Speak for his required summer reading).
Sweet Potato has just arrived!
***
Sorry for the abrupt departure. SP and her cousin finally made it here last night. All three of the big kids were anxious to swim in the lake. Today they are hoping to go tubing.
This morning we visited Sweet Potato's school and got her all registered. The school is so fabulous I got a little teary. We met with the guidance counselor, and she gave us the run-down. Sweet Potato has summer reading, too.
Buckaroo has been very out of sorts since we arrived. He's been feverish and not wanting to leave my hip. This morning I strapped him in the Ergo and we walked through the forest behind the house. It leads up a steep hill, and then there's a dirt road at the top. To the right is a granite cliff with a view of more trees, and to the left it seems to end up in the neighbor's driveway. I hope they didn't mind us sneaking through their back yard.
Everything is so green here, and in the forest the ground is soft with layers of leaves. We met a lovely toady guy, but then he disappeared into the foilage. There's also some kind of mossy-ferny thing that's bright green and grows low to the ground. It looks like a patch of 100 tiny pine trees. I'll have to find out what it is.
R and I took a trip to the nursery yesterday, and the gal working there promised me that everything they had was hardy enough for The Woods. We bought some tomato plants, rosemary, basil, and a few impatiens for an empty barrel in front of the house.
The inside of the house smells like varnish. I need to start cooking some spicy dinners and maybe burn some sage.
So far we've seen a few interesting restaurants: Thai, Vietnamese and Sushi. No Indian yet, though. When we saw the first one, R said, "I told you I would take care of you and your culinary needs." That's why I love him.
Oh, and yesterday we found a natural food store! Woo Hoo! I bought the best rose petal tea ever, and I iced it with sugar and lime. Yumdiddlyscrum.
There's so much to do, and getting to the computer is a challenge. It's in the danger zone, so Buckaroo is not welcome here, and he doesn't often let go. I'll write more when I can.

June 16, 2008

T's Tea



My mom is the super-woodworking queen of the world.





She made this tea box for me and had it mailed to The Woods, and it was here when we arrived. Isn't it lovely? Of course, it made me cry. I'm a big fan of tea, and I have been envious of my friend Fay's tea box for some time. My mom took a woodworking class this semester, and she made a mirror for Sweet Potato and a letter box for Obo. The tea box was a collaborative effort between her and my step-dad.





We have arrived at last. It's been raining, which is blah, but we've had a tad of thunder and lightning, too. Today (before the lightning) Buckaroo had his first ride on the lake. He looked very sweet in his girly pink life jacket.





Other things I am enjoying very much: Buckaroo can wander the house freely without fear of electrocution


Dishwasher


Non-leaking shower with overhead heater


Found the local library today, and while I have not yet enjoyed its services, it is a cool building.


The laurel bushes-- they are in bloom all around the house, and the flowers look like white piped buttercream frosting
The walk to the mailbox

I am not, however, enjoying the mosquitoes. They're monstrous, prehistoric things.

Meanwhile, Sweet Potato, her dad, and cousin have made it to Ohio in their cross-country drive (fly?). They've seen a sight or two as well. Obo is a bit lost without his sister. Today I taught him how to play solitaire.

Now, while Buckaroo is sleeping, I'm off to read Sense and Sensibility and drink a hot cup of chamomile.

June 14, 2008

And One Last Big Farewell


I made a California Montage to make myself feel better-- or to wallow, not sure.
I'm working on positive visualization. This is the lake. I picture myself here, and it's quiet, and I don't have this ball of lava in my belly waiting to erupt. I'm happy in my picture.
Then the picture gets blurry because I'm crying all over the place.
Leaving sucks.

June 11, 2008

Two Graduates


Today, June 12, is the first anniversary of my dad's death. It's weird to think that this time last year I was sobbing hysterically while R held the colicky Buckaroo. I still don't really feel like my dad is gone most of the time. It just seems like we're taking a sabbatical from each other for a short time-- as we sometimes did.
I had a good dream last month. My dad never speaks to me in my dreams, and this was no exception, but that was ok. I was having dinner at a restaurant with three of my poetry friends, and the server came up and said, "There's someone here to see you. He said his name is Bob."
I walked down some steps, and there was Dad sitting on a bar stool. His face was odd, scarred maybe, and he had a cane. I saw him, and I knew that he'd survived the wreck and he was alive, and he had to use a fake name because he was on the run.
We didn't say anything. I just hugged him, and he hugged me back, and we cried for a while. I was still crying when I woke up. It was the kind of dream that leaves a dreamer all unsorted for a morning.
R and I have decided to do something generous for another person every year on this day to build up some positive energy around the hard memories, and that's what we did. It was R's idea, really.
Today was also Sweet Potato's promotion ceremony from 5th grade. It was the usual stuff, and at the end all of the fifth graders faced the audience and sang, "I Believe I Can Fly," and I kept thinking-- this is the hokiest song ever, and I am so not going to cry-- but then there I was blub blubbing away all over the program.
In the picture SP is wearing the apron I bought her for a grad gift. I told her that it wasn't because I want her to be a domestic goddess when she grows up; I just thought we could do a lot of baking in The Woods, and she has been using the same toddler apron since, ya know, she toddled.
Tomorrow is Obo's big day. He's graduating from 8th. In preparation, he got his hair all wacked off, and he looks gorgy, but he hates it. I'll have to post a picture tomorrow.
Moving news: It is never a good idea to walk into a moving person's house and say, "Wow! You still have a lot of work to do!"
My friend Suzanne and I had tea leaf salad at Burma Superstar. It was so yummilicious. It's like the time my friend Laura told me to get a Puka dog in Kauai, and I waited until the last day of the trip. Der. I may have to go back for another tea salad tomorrow. It tastes like tea for crying out loud!
Also, Buckaroo tried to rid himself of his pointer finger this evening by sticking it in the fan. Luckily he only grazed off a sliver. He was quite miserable, though, and kept pointing the band-aided finger at me with a look on his face that said, "Fix it, Mama."

Three a.m.


Not so much sleeping happening here. It could be all of the spicy food, or it could be Buckaroo waking up to nurse just when I'm finally falling asleep.
R told me that when he was in the navy and looking forward to being on leave he and his friends wouldn't say, "three more days."
They'd say, "two days and a wake up" because the last day was spent traveling, so it didn't count.
I really want my last day to count. I feel R has significantly shortened my days in California.
He's right, though. The last day we have to leave for the airport around 10:30 in the morning. I'm usually lucky to be out of my pajamas by that time.
I'm thinking that, to extend my stay on the West Coast, I would like to give up sleep for the next two days, making up for the traveling day with my night time hours.

June 10, 2008

Four Dining Friends


I packed and packed and packed, and then my friend Laura arrived. We stopped by the Farmer's Market for some fruit, had Indian Palace buffet while Buckaroo slept in the backpack-- so cheap and tasty-- then we headed out to Anthropologie. I should know that any store pronounced with an accent is out of my price range. It's Laura's birthday week, though, and she was splurging, and I still have all that moving anxiety to mask. I think I left a couple of limbs there.
I bought Laura these Nara Girl postcards because I thought these are the faces she'll make when she thinks about me in The Woods. Grumpy faces. The girls smokes, and one of the cards even says F**K on it.
I met Laura in poetry class in college at the same time I met Sweet Potato's dad, so that means we've been friends for fifteen-ish years. We boogied to Brut Max together. I was imagining that our goodbye would include mucho sobbing, but it didn't. Just when I started to get teary, Laura said, "You're not really going away. You're just going on vacation, and you'll be back in two weeks," then she swept her long, brown locks over her shoulder, hopped into her mini-van and drove away.
Except for all of the packing and giving away everything we own, that's pretty much how it feels.
Then I changed into my new Anthro outfit and dashed back out to Berkeley for a last Thai supper with four poet-friends at Sabuy Sabuy2. We giggled and got a bit rowdy with our hand gestures, and there was a lot of heavy sighing at the table.
My friend Katherine sat right next to me. Katherine is very matter-of-fact about the details. " How will we deal with this change? Let's make a plan," she says. "Let's write, call, e-mail every month. Let's meet every summer."
But at one quiet moment during dinner we looked at each other, and her face was so sad, and she had the roundest puppy eyes. Goodbye eyes.
The four of us are embarking on some huge-O changes, and I hope we'll all be stronger, braver, better, more beautiful when we see each other again on the other side.


































June 9, 2008

Five Golden Days


"On your mark, get ready, set, now run away for good"
The Damnwells


This morning I walked downtown with Buckaroo on my back, grabbed a decaf, soy, iced mocha, and perused the bookstore. There's something about a baby on the back-- he brings out a hello from everyone. It made me all teary.
Five days left, and I've become a total sap. I think every song I hear is speaking to me personally.
I've decided to get a tattoo of a California poppy on my bum. Ok, maybe. I'm not big on tattoos, and Obo says this makes me []. I've just never been able to think of anything I will still enjoy when I'm all old and wrinkly.
Obo also says the fact that I don't enjoy tv or consuming mass amounts of high fructose corn syrup makes me square. I said if I did enjoy those things I would be round, not square-- which I thought was hilarious. He did not.
Good news! Sweet Potato had a class party at the park today, and when she left this morning, I said, "Do you want to bring a book?" and she said, "Why?" Hallalujah!
I should explain that while I like to encourage reading as much as the next parent, Sweet Potato has been using her books to shield herself from the other children at her new school, reading every recess and in-class break. So, the last week of school, and we've finally had a break through!
Ok, time for Buckaroo's diaper change.

June 8, 2008

Six Hazardous Zones


I can't believe how stinkin' hard it is to pack with a toddler running around! How did I ever manage this when Sweet Potato was itty bitty? It's so hard to keep Buckaroo safe.
Today alone he tried to:
drink lighter fluid
strangle himself with Obo's cell phone charger
choke himself on Sweet Potato's beads
suffocate himself with a plastic bag
and escape out the front door-- which he tried regularly even before the packing, so that's expected
It's not as if we are leaving him unattended. It's just that there is danger everywhere.
Luckily he's sleeping now, so I'd better try to recreate a babyproof room.









June 7, 2008

Seven Deep Breaths




I've never been sure why I'm such a sucker for Sex and the City. I don't wear high heels, I rarely wear make-up or do anything with my hair, and I'm not a fan of a nightclub anymore.


R and I took a few child-free hours (Thanks Cynthia!) to see the new movie on Saturday. We figured it might be our last chance to be alone together, ever. I did offer to see Indiana Jones, but R generously offered to see a chick flick-- plus, he likes the steamy scenes.


Halfway through the movie I realized what it is that brings be back to the show: the friendship. The eating, and crying, hugging, teasing, bickering. The Love. And oh, how I felt for Samantha having to travel back and forth between LA and NY for so many A-list events with her friends-- but at least she has the budget for it.


I've had to say goodbye to many good friends in the last couple of weeks, and it makes me cry an awful lot. I have this new face-- my moving face-- it's when I feel a random breakdown coming on, and I take a deep breath and scrunch up my nose and press my lips really hard against my teeth. I think I look like a pug.


I was making exactly this face as R and I were walking out of the theater after the movie ended, and then I looked above the exit doors and I read, in big silver lettering, "Take the Magic with You."


So that's what I'm going to do.

June 6, 2008

Eight Pounds of Pillows


Did you know that Goodwill doesn't accept pillows?
What in arse's name are we going to do with all of our pillows?
R has ordered a dumpster, but I am sick about filling it up with feathers.
Ah, crackers. Here comes all of the stuffing that never crossed my mind.

Nine Course Meal


This is Buckaroo with Renato, my amazing poet-friend and gourmet cook. Renato serves everything Italian style, so all of the meals come in courses. We had a goodbye dinner tonight, and even though it wasn't really nine courses, it was a lot of delicious food.
First there was the proscuitto course, then the squash risotto, then chicken and green salad, followed by fruit and cheese, oh and always bread and wine. He tried to finish us off with sorbet and panettone, but Sweet Potato was the only one who could keep up at that pace.
Renato lives above Lake Merrit, so we ate dinner and watched the sunset reflect over the Oakland hills and the water, and then the lake lights came on at dusk.
Renato told us about his childhood in Milan. He used to swim in the canals during the summer, even though it was very dangerous and his mother forbid him to swim there. When he would come home in the evening, and his mother would check the thick hem at the bottom of his shorts to see if it was wet so she would know if he'd been swimming that day.
He asked Obo, "You think life is difficult without TV?" (Obo is looking forward to sitting on his bum-oley and watching TV in England because we don't have one). "When I was a kid we didn't have TV. No radio or newspapers, either . . . Sometimes no food. I swam in the canals."
Obo did start to get excited about swimming in the lake in The Woods at sunset. He said he likes to swim deep past the surface water where it's cooler. That's the first happy thing Obo has mentioned about Massachusetts since we visited last summer.
So we stuffed ourselves, even Buckaroo ate more than one baby's share of risotto, and I gave Renato three new poems, and then we said another goodbye.

June 5, 2008

Ten Mountains of Greeting Cards

At a recent poetry group my friend Annie brought in a poem about going through all of the letters her parents had ever written her and finding one letter to keep so she could recycle the rest. I said, "I don't understand why you would do this."

Today I went through mountains of cards and letters and Sweet Potato's preschool artwork, and I recycled most of it. It was painful. When I was itty bitty I had a friend named Marie-- she was grandmotherly-- and she made a scrapbook out of all of her old Christmas cards and gave it to me. I still have it. Some of the cards are fuzzy and glittery gold, and those are my favorite.

I always planned to make a scrapbook out of my cards, but I never did. Some of this memorabilia had been stuffed in a box for twenty years, dragged from apartment to apartment, never getting any love. I had to let it go. I kept the letters, wedding and baby congrats, some school work that was too precious to toss-- like Sweet Potato's first letter to Obo in England-- and photos, of course.

R went through his smaller mountains, too. Hills really. Ant hills. He found a song he wrote for me and a journal he kept during the two seconds that I played hard to get. That was fun reading.

My friend T'other gave me a going away card with "barn's burnt down" on it. I meant to tell her that I had that same card up on my wall for years, and then I finally took it down because I wasn't grieving over that barn anymore, and I was happy with the moonlight in my window.

Now I feel like my barn's burnt down all over again. I know going to live in a house on a lake is not exactly barn burning material, but all these stinking goodbyes sure feel like flames licking at hay. I didn't even know I had built myself a new barn-- apparently I had, and I filled it with greeting cards.

June 4, 2008

Eleven Bowls of Lucky Charms

I love Lucky Charms. I have loved them since I was two and my mom stopped feeding them to me for brekky because I would eat all the marshmallow bits and leave the rest to get soggy in my bowl of milk. I don't love the new leprechaun or the fact that I have to eat them with rice milk instead of moo milk, but I am really enjoying all of the great new sweets they've added. I don't know why they don't just make it all marshmallows. Who cares about the oats? It's just filler.

I recently (ok, two seconds ago) read that the marshmallows are called marbits, and they are really Kraft circus peanuts. Perfect! My friend Laura says that I'm the only person she knows who still enjoys a circus peanut.

Lucky Charms have gotten me through some pretty tough times. When everything is coming apart at the seams I just gobble down one cheery bowlful after another.

You're probably wondering why I have posted a picture of an astronaut when I'm rattling on about cereal. This is why: Today I said goodbye to my therapist. I have been visiting her sunny little office off and on since Sweet Potato was a fingerling. We got reacquainted after my dad died, so I've seen her for an hour every week for almost a year. Today she gave me a fabulous pep talk and told me that everything is going to be just fine-- right after I move, go into shock and get all numb and depressed for a while.

R and Buckaroo picked me up from my appointment, and I was blubbering all over the place, and I said I feel like an astronaut floating in space, and I have just broken my tether with the shuttle.

Then we went to the store, and I bought myself a super-sized box of the cereal. It's magically lullicious.

June 2, 2008

The Twelve Days of Packing

It's really getting down to crunchy crunchy time for our little moving family. Unfortunately, the closer we get to June 14th, the more I just want to hunker down under the covers with Zotz and a light and fluffy book.

My friend Suzanne, who has read everything, suggested that Obo might like the Angus, Thongs and Full-Frontal Snogging series. I don't know if I've ever mentioned that Obo is half Brit, but he is, and so is Georgia Nicholson, the 14-year-old main character and confessor in the Rennison series. Obo devoured the books.

While he was reading those, I was reading The Penderwicks on Gardam Street. Obo kept harrassing me, so I finally moved on to the snog-fest (there is truly an Atlantic of difference between the Pendewicks and the Nicholsons).

I love Georgia, though, and her habits of adding "osity" to the end of every adjective and harrassing the school groundskeeper. Georgia has even added a glossary to the American books, so that the people from Hamburger-a-gogo land will know what she's saying.

They are the perfect books for someone who is trying very hard not to think about the incredibly near future.