Uncle Steve and Curious George

(5.21.09)

So it's Wednesday

(5.20.09)

Planty goodness

(5.19.09)

Monday morning

(5.18.09)

5:45

(5.17.09)

Bench

(5.16.09)

Bedhead

(5.15.09)

Desk

(5.14.09)

Wednesday

(5.13.09)

Loving these

(5.12.09)

Dianthus

(5.11.09)

In Oakville

(5.10.09)

Continental breakfast

(5.9.09)

6:20

(5.8.09)

May 7th

(5.7.09)

Babysitting with Frances

8:45

(5.6.09)

Meatballs for Cinco de Mayo

Kind of funny, but I realized when I was typing the date. I have a soft spot for Cinco de Mayo- one of Pete's and my earliest dates was on May 5th.....13 years ago. Wow.

Yeah, so in honor of um, Tuesday, I made meatballs this morning. Working late tonight means I'll miss dinner, but at least it's practically ready for Pete and Charlotte.

I like to bake them, mostly because this way I don't have to scrub grease off the stove.
I did not, however, make sauce. Bless you, Paul Newman, wherever you are.
Yummy. I held back and did not eat one now. I can wait.

At some point I should probably get dressed in something appropriate for work. I don't think yoga pants and a Marine Corps T-shirt will be okay. Can you feel my enthusiasm? Be jealous of my many reports and meetings today....and let's just hope I get through this term start without making any students cry (not everyone can react stoically to bad financial news).....

Tuesday

(5.5.09)

...in which it's Monday again

It started out a fairly busy weekend- we had teeball first thing, followed by a short visit to my office for me and Lou. Then I got a haircut. We ended up in Rye in the afternoon for a barbecue with the Warrs and the Sylvias.

The game

On the beach- high tide.

Lou and Ryan
Back at the cottage....





Stair steps: Matt, Lou, and Ryan
It was good to be exactly where we were upon getting the news I got on Saturday...comforting to be in a place where I can't help but be relaxed, and with people I love. Not that home would have been a bad place to be, but there is something about salt air and the crash of waves that settles me.

Yesterday I didn't do much. I had plans to run errands but just wasn't feeling it. I eventually headed out and wandered downtown- sat for a bit at the cafe with a latte and my book, then poked in a couple of stores. We're planning to rearrange the living room, so I was eyeing a few pieces of furniture, measuring (and taking pictures with my phone) and scheming. After that I went to the grocery store....alone. That never happens.

This is the scene shortly after my return:
We had a yummy dinner of steak tips, roasted potatoes and corn on the cob (which it just seems way too early to eat)...and then hunkered down to get some rest. It's a new week.....I hope there's very little drama in my day today. Since it's term start, though, I will maintain realistic expectations!

Blossoms

(5.4.09)

Mario

My grandfather passed away Saturday afternoon, after a brief illness. I had not seen him in almost seven years. It is difficult to put this loss into words; we were not close but he was my Poppy and I loved him. My feelings are tangled up in a web of sadness and anger and guilt and helplessness, but I am also awash in a flood of things that make me smile.

• "Hey, what I'm doin'?" was his usual greeting, or maybe just what we all think of and say when seeing a picture of him or talking about him....
• We would go and get the Sunday donuts, and he would always have Velamints in his car. They were square.
• He would wake up at ridiculous o'clock in the morning, drink coffee for about 4 hours, and wait for everyone else to get up. I can still hear the clink of the spoon against the coffee cup.
• There's a picture from our wedding of Poppy with Pete and my dad. They look like they're negotiating a deal- mules and cattle for a bride.
• His golfer's tan had me convinced as a kid that he looked like Johnny Mathis ("Honey, Johnny Mathis is black," said my mother patiently).
• When I was three and my brother was christened, I wore my favorite dress and he took me to buy a pink donut on a stick. It was the best donut anytime, at all, EVER.

He was neither saint nor sinner. He was a man, and he made mistakes. But he was a good man, and he loved the people in his life the best way he knew how. I have to believe that. Families are such loaded organisms, filled with the echoes of events that took place half a lifetime ago, or last week. Our family histories become ingrained into who we are, and most of the time it doesn't matter that the things that happen may not have involved you directly. It enters the collective past and you live with it, breathe it in, carry it around with you for as long as you walk this earth.

I don't know what comes next. I do know that this man, my grandfather, although rarely present has left his mark on my life and my family. The world is not the same without him in it.

At Rye

Small girl and the sea

Little face

(5.3.09)

A rare moment in the infield

(5.2.09)

Tired!

(5.1.09)