Welcome 2012! Here you are, there is no choice but to welcome you, time is slipping away and I can either jump on board or live in dread of the passage.
We spent New Years Eve at a fun party at my friends' farm in Whately. Ainsley and Dave created a kid and adult party wonderland in their greenhouse. Toasty warm with heaters blowing, music crowing on the stereo, hoers-de-oeuvres lining the tables, and champagne punch overflowing my glass. This party was not one to be missed. They had the kids' evening organized down to the last detail, with fun stations for kids to stop in a do an activity or two, a pinata, and impressive balloon drop to boot.
The kids ran around and stayed out of the parents' way while we feasted and chatted about. Great conversation, yummy food, good times. The only disappointment? We were in the car and on our way home (the last to leave) at 8:45. Ah, the joys of partying with young children. I'm hoping someday to stay at a party until the new year again, but I'm thinking I may have to wait a few years. That's ok with me, time can slow right on down and let me enjoy it...
Monday, January 2, 2012
Monday, December 26, 2011
The Christmas Let-Down
Ah, Christmas has come and gone too fast once again. It always freaks me out how much spectacular preparation is put in to this one single day. Weeks of planning, shopping, wrapping, chopping, roasting, baking, decorating, all to be torn to shreds within minutes come the morning of the 25th. Such begins my Christmas Let-Down.
I start to feel somewhat meloncholy come about 2pm on Christmas Day. This year wasn't so bad, we did virtually nothing all day, stayed in our jammies and played with new toys from Santa, occasionally straying from the group long enough to take a nap or eat some more leftovers. Pretty bitchin, if I do say so myself.
This year I started feeling the Christmas-is-over sadness at work that night, realizing that now all there is will be winter for months to come. Cold and depressing winter. Ugh. I get all anxious just thinking about it, and stay up late wandering through the Internet in search of warm vacation deals. Ridiculous.
Maybe the truth is that Christmas should just be a bit longer, like all year, but that would probably defeat the special quality of it, plus with all the baking I would be guaranteed to be the size of a house. No, I think the most reasonable plan is to stop putting so much effort into it, and just take what comes, through holidays and winter cold. It's all out of my hands anyway.
I start to feel somewhat meloncholy come about 2pm on Christmas Day. This year wasn't so bad, we did virtually nothing all day, stayed in our jammies and played with new toys from Santa, occasionally straying from the group long enough to take a nap or eat some more leftovers. Pretty bitchin, if I do say so myself.
Maybe the truth is that Christmas should just be a bit longer, like all year, but that would probably defeat the special quality of it, plus with all the baking I would be guaranteed to be the size of a house. No, I think the most reasonable plan is to stop putting so much effort into it, and just take what comes, through holidays and winter cold. It's all out of my hands anyway.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Visions of the Tropics
Every year I survive the harsh New England winter by planning my escape. I begin as soon as the first fall leaf hits the ground, and by the first snowfall I have become thoroughly consumed by the desire to head for a warmer climate. I frantically scour the internet for deals and ideas of where to find sun, beach, and general good times, and by March I am ready to pack up the kids and head south.
This year I have been all over the map with ideas for our winter journey, and I have finally become hooked on Puerto Rico. I have spent way too much free time investigating a fun and affordable way to cozy up to this island paradise, and I think it may be our next venture.
I am looking into the eastern coastal town of Luquillo, rentals are cheap, the beach is said to be kid-friendly, and the pictures sure do look appetizing. If anyone knows anything about this area, or Puerto Rico in general, I would love a little advice. Big drink in a pineapple, here we come!
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| Luquillo Beach, Puerto Rico |
I am looking into the eastern coastal town of Luquillo, rentals are cheap, the beach is said to be kid-friendly, and the pictures sure do look appetizing. If anyone knows anything about this area, or Puerto Rico in general, I would love a little advice. Big drink in a pineapple, here we come!
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| Luquillo Beach |
Sunday, December 11, 2011
The Frenzy
I am looking at my last post and realizing that not only am I a slightly negligent blogger, but also I have not updated to say that Francisco made it to and from his home country just fine. He might disagree with me, as he was calling me to change his ticket to come home early a day after he'd arrived, but I declined to do so and the visit went on as planned. He flew home jolly and exhausted from the anticipation of the journey and lack of sleep in his mother's loud, cramped, mosquito-infested house. We are happy to have him back.
And now we're on to the Christmas frenzy...
I feel like a squirrel preparing for a long cold winter, gathering presents like acorns to stuff in my cheeks or burrow into a hole in my tree. All around me people I know are doing the same, buying endless battery operated things to make the masses happy. I always feel the pull of guilt and materialism snaking its way through my consciousness, but I buy it all nonetheless in the spirit of Santa and baby Jesus. And I have to admit, I love every minute of it. Christmas is my favorite day, made ten times better now that I have little kids to appreciate the magic I put so much effort into creating. I can't wait, although I hope I can tolerate all of the other squirrels at the mall long enough to get all of my shopping done.
And now we're on to the Christmas frenzy...
I feel like a squirrel preparing for a long cold winter, gathering presents like acorns to stuff in my cheeks or burrow into a hole in my tree. All around me people I know are doing the same, buying endless battery operated things to make the masses happy. I always feel the pull of guilt and materialism snaking its way through my consciousness, but I buy it all nonetheless in the spirit of Santa and baby Jesus. And I have to admit, I love every minute of it. Christmas is my favorite day, made ten times better now that I have little kids to appreciate the magic I put so much effort into creating. I can't wait, although I hope I can tolerate all of the other squirrels at the mall long enough to get all of my shopping done.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Scared Stiff
Francisco is leaving tomorrow for a nine day trip to visit his family in the Dominican Republic. Given that he hasn't been there in over a year and a half, you would think a trip like this would bring him great joy and excitement. Not so with my dear man, alas, he is scared shitless. Literally, a walking catatonic.
He decided in the past few years that flying terrified him. I have also a tremendous fear of soaring the lofty skies, and I can't help but feel a tad resentful of his copycat anxiety that followed mine. I almost want to poke him and say "Hey! That's my phobia! Get your own!" But alas, I understand it, so I just pat him on the back and tell him everything is going to be fine.
Unfortunately for him, the nerves won't disappate with the landing. My husband is gravely uncomfortable in other people's houses, and the constant visiting he will have to undergo upon arriving in his home country is a source of constant worry. The custom for him is that you visit your family and you give them a (monetary) gift. Parting with our savings while sleeping in an unfamiliar bed in a hot, loud, mosquito laden netherland has Francisco in a total tizzy.
I cannot wait until he goes and comes back (alive) to tell the tale so I can stop walking into a room to see him staring at the wall with fear in his eyes. Poor man.
He decided in the past few years that flying terrified him. I have also a tremendous fear of soaring the lofty skies, and I can't help but feel a tad resentful of his copycat anxiety that followed mine. I almost want to poke him and say "Hey! That's my phobia! Get your own!" But alas, I understand it, so I just pat him on the back and tell him everything is going to be fine.
Unfortunately for him, the nerves won't disappate with the landing. My husband is gravely uncomfortable in other people's houses, and the constant visiting he will have to undergo upon arriving in his home country is a source of constant worry. The custom for him is that you visit your family and you give them a (monetary) gift. Parting with our savings while sleeping in an unfamiliar bed in a hot, loud, mosquito laden netherland has Francisco in a total tizzy.
I cannot wait until he goes and comes back (alive) to tell the tale so I can stop walking into a room to see him staring at the wall with fear in his eyes. Poor man.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Dark Days and Darker Nights
I just caught up with my last blog entry and realized that I haven't had time, or electricity, since then to write about the aftermath, and yet somehow I didn't miss it.
We were without power for six days following the Saturday night October snow storm. A tree branch fell on the lines to our house and ripped the meter off the wall, causing us a bit more trouble than most of our street in getting ourselves back and running. So as the rest of Mountain Road shined with the warm glow off the televisions and bedside lamps of our neighbors our house, and that of our next door neighbor, remained in the dark.
Initially I fled the scene. Waking up in the afternoon Sunday after work the night before to a cold dark house with no food seemed like too much damn work, so I packed up the kids and went to my mother's and demanded she make us dinner and let us watch TV like the rest of America. Two days later my conscience got the best of me and I headed home to join my husband in the pioneer land.
Really, if I'm being honest, it wasn't that bad, and I maybe even liked it just a little bit.
We have a wood stove that keeps our house toasty and a gas range for making meals, so the only change for us (after cleaning out the fridge and freezer, ew) was that we were forced to sit around in the evening by candlelight and speak to one another. Strangely enjoyable.
My kids loved reading stories by headlamp and cozying around the fire so much that when the lights came back on Nathan actually cried, he was so disappointed. They didn't run back to their plugged in lives as I had imagined, but rather continued playing dress up and wearing the headlamps, making me wonder why we have grown so attached to all of these modern conveniences. Except the dishwasher. Let's get real, I need the dishwasher.
We were without power for six days following the Saturday night October snow storm. A tree branch fell on the lines to our house and ripped the meter off the wall, causing us a bit more trouble than most of our street in getting ourselves back and running. So as the rest of Mountain Road shined with the warm glow off the televisions and bedside lamps of our neighbors our house, and that of our next door neighbor, remained in the dark.
Initially I fled the scene. Waking up in the afternoon Sunday after work the night before to a cold dark house with no food seemed like too much damn work, so I packed up the kids and went to my mother's and demanded she make us dinner and let us watch TV like the rest of America. Two days later my conscience got the best of me and I headed home to join my husband in the pioneer land.
Really, if I'm being honest, it wasn't that bad, and I maybe even liked it just a little bit.
We have a wood stove that keeps our house toasty and a gas range for making meals, so the only change for us (after cleaning out the fridge and freezer, ew) was that we were forced to sit around in the evening by candlelight and speak to one another. Strangely enjoyable.
My kids loved reading stories by headlamp and cozying around the fire so much that when the lights came back on Nathan actually cried, he was so disappointed. They didn't run back to their plugged in lives as I had imagined, but rather continued playing dress up and wearing the headlamps, making me wonder why we have grown so attached to all of these modern conveniences. Except the dishwasher. Let's get real, I need the dishwasher.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
A Harrowing Ride Through Snowtober
Tonight the weather has gone crazy. I can't remember ever seeing snow in October, let alone a full on snow storm. I woke up at 3pm this afternoon (after working last night) to joyful cheers from the kids as they watched the street being painted with fat white snowflakes. We headed outside for a jolly romp and a few snow angels, only to be hustled back indoors when a branch from a neighboring tree crashed down just feet from where we were playing.
I'd better get going now if I'm going to make it to work, I thought to myself, and am I glad I did. I left the house at 5:30pm and my 15 minute commute down 5&10 took almost 45 minutes. In my dad's 4-wheel drive truck I inched down an icy hill at 5 miles per hour squinting through the windshield past the flying snow, and still managed to skid to within an inch of the car in front of me. Treacherous, and not a plow to be seen anywhere.
Francisco called me about 2 minutes after I left the house to say that another branch had fallen across our road and pulled a power line into the street, blocking any way to enter or exit our street. Now he's just called to say that the power is out and a few more trees are down, making it pretty much impassable. I am afraid to see what the streets will look like tomorrow morning when I leave here. Yikes Mother Nature, what's happening?
I'd better get going now if I'm going to make it to work, I thought to myself, and am I glad I did. I left the house at 5:30pm and my 15 minute commute down 5&10 took almost 45 minutes. In my dad's 4-wheel drive truck I inched down an icy hill at 5 miles per hour squinting through the windshield past the flying snow, and still managed to skid to within an inch of the car in front of me. Treacherous, and not a plow to be seen anywhere.
Francisco called me about 2 minutes after I left the house to say that another branch had fallen across our road and pulled a power line into the street, blocking any way to enter or exit our street. Now he's just called to say that the power is out and a few more trees are down, making it pretty much impassable. I am afraid to see what the streets will look like tomorrow morning when I leave here. Yikes Mother Nature, what's happening?
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