A Handful for August

A Handful for August

You will note, I hope, that I am now finally “caught up” for the summer.  Sure, spring once again passed by without much mention on this blog, but there are still 21 days left in August—an eternity!—so summer, at least, is not a complete loss.

So where were we?  I think I will highlight a few highlights from the last week or two.

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  1. Carolina. Our weekend visit to the Kings was simply magical.  They are friends who wear well, and it is easy to just be with them.  Also, Henry is on the cusp of playing without constant supervision, and the Kings’ backyard (and pile of swords and other pirate gear) left a big grin on his face.  Spending the afternoon laughing and eating ice cream on the deck while the kids slept put big grins on ours.  Our Sunday evening picnic at the lake makes the short-list for best things of the summer.  (Credit for all photos, of course, goes to Steven or Amy.)

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  1. Breakfast with the lions. The previous Saturday we picnicked at the zoo, arriving before it officially opened and before it officially got hot.  It was just right.  We ate chocolate chip muffins and rainbow-hued fruit salad.  Henry rode the carousel.  And we finally managed to watch them feed the sea lions.

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  1. Budding photographer. I took the kids downtown to the (you guessed it) Air and Space Museum, and we brought along my old digital camera so that Henry could take some pictures.  He has taken hundreds since then, and we have gotten a glimpse of the world from 38 ½ inches tall.  Some of his pictures are quite good.  Others, well, there are a lot of pictures of Jason’s pants.  I think they deserve their own post, so stay-tuned.

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  1. Books, August edition. Our summer has slowed nicely for a few weeks, and in that space I somehow find myself reading a bunch of L.M. Montgomery books again.  It started as something to do on my phone (besides scrolling endlessly through Pinterest) while I nurse Lucy, but it has now become an obsession.  I don’t know why this surprises me.  I have never picked up one of these books without falling completely into it, as wholly consumed at 36 as I was at 12.  I am somewhere  near the end of the second in the Emily trilogy, which I haven’t read in ten or so years, and I get to these sweet little romantic scenes and suddenly remember how thrilling they were (and how often I reread them!).  And you know what?  They still are.  In fact, I am going off to bed now to finish this one so that by week’s end I might be able to accomplish something again.

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  1. Dinner. George and Lynda were here this past weekend, and they let us go out to dinner while they played with our kids—a mutually enjoyable way to spend an evening.  We went to Irongate, a new place for us.  Lots of small plates.  Dining al fresca under twinkle lights.  Sparkling (and uninterrupted) conversation.  Everything about it was outstanding, but especially this amazing peach-topped bruschetta.  We were deep in conversation all evening, but we actually stopped talking in mid-sentence while we ate this dish.  It was that good.  I am still thinking about it.

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