Friday, August 11, 2006
I'll Huff, and I'll Puff...
For a couple of days, every time we pull up in our driveway, Grace has said, "Yay! Our house is still standing!" Okay. So, just now when she said it, I asked her what she meant. She said, "The fox didn't blow it down." The fox, the fox. "You mean, the big bad wolf and the three little pigs?" She said, "Yeah! The big bad wolf didn't blow our house down! It's still standing!"
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Before You Can Love Thy Neighbor, You Have to Know Thy Neighbor
We’ve lived in our house for five years, and we have these neighbors that I just can’t seem to get in with. Let’s call them Penny and Cliff, their daughters Maggie and Lola. Penny and Cliff are Thirtysomethings like David and I are, and their kids are roughly the ages of Johnny and Grace. So, for the last five years, whenever I see Penny or Cliff out with Maggie and Lola, at our neighborhood park, out walking, out playing in the yard, when I stop at Maggie’s lemonade stand, Trick-or-Treating on Halloween etc., I always think (and usually say out loud), “We should get our families together sometime.” The first time I suggested this to Cliff (five years ago) while swinging our girls at the park, his initial reaction surprised me a bit. “Yeeeaaaah,” he said, in that slow Office-Space-Manager drawl, “I just told my next door neighbor that moved in recently that it’s, you know, cool to speak to each other, like when we’re taking out the trash and stuff, but, I mean, I don’t want to be best friends with the guy. You know? When I get home from work, I want to do my own thing and don’t really want my neighbors thinking we’re going to hang out all the time, you know?” No, not really.
And then there’s Penny. Penny is friendly enough, always waves and speaks to me in passing, asks about the kids, comments on how big they’re getting, etc. It just makes sense to me: we enjoy talking to each other, our kids seem interested in each other, so wouldn’t it be natural to take it to the next level over pizza and cokes on a Friday evening while the grown ups talk and the kids run around? Parents of young children are mostly all doing the same thing most nights, so why not do it together? When I’ve suggested getting together with Penny, she just smiles and never once has she said, “Yes, let’s.”
For the last year or so, Penny and Cliff have been really involved with our Neighborhood Association, and Cliff’s now an officer, the President, in fact. Even though we’ve been neighbors for five years, sometimes at various functions, like the annual July 4th parade, he acts as if he doesn’t know us. I always speak and ask about Maggie and Lola. He never asks or comments about my kids. And he acts as if he’s never talked to us before. It has started to bother me.
Cliff and Penny belong to our gym. A few weeks ago, Cliff and I were both swimming laps in the indoor pool. I thought I recognized him but didn’t know for sure (Who really looks like themselves in a speedo and goggles?). Anyway, I wasn’t about to say hi first. We did our laps and then I got out and went to the hot tub to relax for a few minutes. I was the only one in the hot tub until Cliff got in after doing his laps. Now we’re inches apart, in a hot tub, the only ones, and I still refuse to speak to him or even look him in the eye. I admit I can be a bit of a game-player, but I was tired of initiating all of our exchanges up to this rather uncomfortable point. I wanted to see if he’d speak to me. He didn’t. So for ten minutes, the two of us, long-time neighbors, sat in the hot tub, with nary a word.
About two weeks ago, Penny got on the treadmill next to me. I thought, “Well, this is going to be awkward. Am I supposed to talk to her?” We smiled and gave each other the perfunctory acknowledgement nod but I did not take my ear buds out and kept right on running. She wasn’t listening to music, so thirty minutes later, as I was getting off the treadmill, we exchanged a few pleasantries about the summer, what our kids were up to, whether Grace would start Kindergarten in the fall or not, how Maggie had liked Kindergarten. Turns out, Maggie has some of the same “Sensory Integration” issues that Grace has. At the end of the conversation—I couldn’t help myself—I said, “We should get together sometime.” But I turned and walked away before Penny could respond.
Fast forward a few weeks to the open kid swim on Wednesday evenings at the gym. I see this friendly mother with her hands full with three daughters, her youngest only four months old. Our kids notice each other, we talk a bit, things are good. The next time I run into, let’s call her Ebony, we exchange names and start talking about our kids’ ages, what schools they’ll go to, where we live, where we’re from, what our husbands do, what we do. Ebony’s husband, John, is from Banner Elk, not too far from Boone. I tell her I grew up in Boone. Neat! As if it were logically the next thing to say, Ebony says, “We should get together sometime.” I said, “We should!” We leave it at that. On Monday I run into Ebony, John, and their beautiful daughters. I introduce myself to John and we try to think of who we might know in common from the highlands. Ebony says again, “We should get together sometime.” I ask her if she’s taking her kids to the kid swim on Wed. She says she is. I say, “Great, let’s exchange numbers then.”
And then there’s Penny. Penny is friendly enough, always waves and speaks to me in passing, asks about the kids, comments on how big they’re getting, etc. It just makes sense to me: we enjoy talking to each other, our kids seem interested in each other, so wouldn’t it be natural to take it to the next level over pizza and cokes on a Friday evening while the grown ups talk and the kids run around? Parents of young children are mostly all doing the same thing most nights, so why not do it together? When I’ve suggested getting together with Penny, she just smiles and never once has she said, “Yes, let’s.”
For the last year or so, Penny and Cliff have been really involved with our Neighborhood Association, and Cliff’s now an officer, the President, in fact. Even though we’ve been neighbors for five years, sometimes at various functions, like the annual July 4th parade, he acts as if he doesn’t know us. I always speak and ask about Maggie and Lola. He never asks or comments about my kids. And he acts as if he’s never talked to us before. It has started to bother me.
Cliff and Penny belong to our gym. A few weeks ago, Cliff and I were both swimming laps in the indoor pool. I thought I recognized him but didn’t know for sure (Who really looks like themselves in a speedo and goggles?). Anyway, I wasn’t about to say hi first. We did our laps and then I got out and went to the hot tub to relax for a few minutes. I was the only one in the hot tub until Cliff got in after doing his laps. Now we’re inches apart, in a hot tub, the only ones, and I still refuse to speak to him or even look him in the eye. I admit I can be a bit of a game-player, but I was tired of initiating all of our exchanges up to this rather uncomfortable point. I wanted to see if he’d speak to me. He didn’t. So for ten minutes, the two of us, long-time neighbors, sat in the hot tub, with nary a word.
About two weeks ago, Penny got on the treadmill next to me. I thought, “Well, this is going to be awkward. Am I supposed to talk to her?” We smiled and gave each other the perfunctory acknowledgement nod but I did not take my ear buds out and kept right on running. She wasn’t listening to music, so thirty minutes later, as I was getting off the treadmill, we exchanged a few pleasantries about the summer, what our kids were up to, whether Grace would start Kindergarten in the fall or not, how Maggie had liked Kindergarten. Turns out, Maggie has some of the same “Sensory Integration” issues that Grace has. At the end of the conversation—I couldn’t help myself—I said, “We should get together sometime.” But I turned and walked away before Penny could respond.
Fast forward a few weeks to the open kid swim on Wednesday evenings at the gym. I see this friendly mother with her hands full with three daughters, her youngest only four months old. Our kids notice each other, we talk a bit, things are good. The next time I run into, let’s call her Ebony, we exchange names and start talking about our kids’ ages, what schools they’ll go to, where we live, where we’re from, what our husbands do, what we do. Ebony’s husband, John, is from Banner Elk, not too far from Boone. I tell her I grew up in Boone. Neat! As if it were logically the next thing to say, Ebony says, “We should get together sometime.” I said, “We should!” We leave it at that. On Monday I run into Ebony, John, and their beautiful daughters. I introduce myself to John and we try to think of who we might know in common from the highlands. Ebony says again, “We should get together sometime.” I ask her if she’s taking her kids to the kid swim on Wed. She says she is. I say, “Great, let’s exchange numbers then.”
Monday, August 07, 2006
SwillFest 2006
Call me crazy, but on Saturday I drove with my friend Jane two and a half hours to go to a music party in the mountains. The email invitation arrived in my inbox a couple of weeks ago, and while I immediately thought of many good reasons to go, I came up blank for "why not?" In the old days, a long time ago when my kids were babies, I wouldn't have given serious thought to taking off without them or David, but now there's not much excuse for me not to go off and have a little spontaneous fun. David and the kids were invited, of course, but even though he passed, I didn't. Into the picture enters Jane, my friend who, like me, becomes energized by meeting new people and doing new things. Besides, she's organizing a spa trip to West Jefferson in October, and if there was time, maybe we would swing by the salon, check out the rental house, etc.
David and the kids left the house for their Saturday adventures before I did, all smiles, and this seemed easier on everyone. Jane and I met in Chapel Hill and got on the road for West Jefferson by 12:30 PM. She brought a couple of CDs that she wanted me to listen to, and I had some songs I wanted to play for her. But in reality, the music in the background was secondary--secondary to the conversation that flowed freely for the next two hours. We mainly talked about her business, what she's doing now, what she'd like to be doing. As we ascended from the foothills of Wilkesboro, our thoughts turned to the order of the day: the salon, the rental house, the party. We found the salon, chatted it up with the owner and stylist, got directions to the rental house, finally found the rental house, approved of the rental house, stopped off at Lowe's Foods for some party essentials, grabbed a cup of coffee to go, and then we were off to find the exact location of SwillFest 2006.
I told Jane I had the same feelings that I'd had in High School looking for a party: anticipation of the evening to come but also apprehension for not knowing exactly who would be there, exactly what to expect, should I really even be doing this? Jane understood. Afterall, I was the only one she'd know at this party, and she had the fleeting concern over whether there would be other people her age (both of her children are in college). Arriving at around 5:00 PM to a small but friendly game of horseshoes, we were instantly met with warmth and hosptitality. This party might get big, we were told--huge in fact--but it was great that we had made it, and regardless of who and how many showed up, it was going to be a good time. After the tour of the house and grounds, Jane and I settled outside into comfortable conversations with old friends and newcomers, relaxed and happy to be outside in the exquisite mountain summer air, washed in the sweet sounds of the mandolin.
People kept arriving, including my brother, Daniel, and his girlfriend Sheila. We all chatted away, for hours, while the daredevils rode around on four-wheelers, while the "pig butts" slowly cooked, while the musicians arrived and instrument-cases accumulated, all while the sun went down.
Jane and I found ourselves at a picnic table with other blondes, complimenting each other in ways that sounded something like, "Oh, my gosh, you don't look a day over forty!" (By the way, that comment was not to me), and "What color are your highlights? They're so pretty," and "No way you have a thirteen year old daughter." "Girl, I'm thirty-four." All of us had children, none of whom were there, and it was great to gab with other mothers, compare notes, share pictures, and swell with pride from a distance for a change, from a distance. Jane's a major connector, so when she found out one of the ladies owned a boutique in West Jefferson, she started cooking up ways to set up a "Trunk Show" at the Spa weekend coming up in October.
More people, more music, more fun. Ben and his band sounded tight, and they were clearly having a good time. Ben had a vision of what he wanted this party to be, and as far as I could see, it was going his way. That made me happy, because Ben's a guy you want good things to happen to. He's got an abundance of positive energy, in a time when there's no such thing as too much, and it seemed to spread out across the acres, to the thousands of Christmas trees that soaked up the sounds of SwillFest '06. Jane and I perched on the "back row" watching the revelers and musicians come and go. Out of nowhere, these tall guys in overalls showed up and eventually got on stage and played. "Overall" they sounded good--think "O, Brother, Where Art Thou?"-- but no one really had a handle on who they were or where they came from.
We stayed a lot later than either one of us thought we would. Time's fun when you're having flies. Jane was an excellent travel companion. On the drive home, after sleeping in and a delicious lunch al fresco in Blowing Rock, our conversation settled into me, my goals, and my general "five-year" plan. Again, we never got around to playing our CDs.
I was thrilled to see David and the kids, and vice versa for them. I asked David what the most challenging part of the weekend was and he said just being "on" for such a long stretch without a break. And the best part? Laughing with the kids, all day it seemed, waiting for me to get home. SwillFest was what it was: A mid-summer music fiesta in the woods in the mountains. For me though, it was much more.
David and the kids left the house for their Saturday adventures before I did, all smiles, and this seemed easier on everyone. Jane and I met in Chapel Hill and got on the road for West Jefferson by 12:30 PM. She brought a couple of CDs that she wanted me to listen to, and I had some songs I wanted to play for her. But in reality, the music in the background was secondary--secondary to the conversation that flowed freely for the next two hours. We mainly talked about her business, what she's doing now, what she'd like to be doing. As we ascended from the foothills of Wilkesboro, our thoughts turned to the order of the day: the salon, the rental house, the party. We found the salon, chatted it up with the owner and stylist, got directions to the rental house, finally found the rental house, approved of the rental house, stopped off at Lowe's Foods for some party essentials, grabbed a cup of coffee to go, and then we were off to find the exact location of SwillFest 2006.
I told Jane I had the same feelings that I'd had in High School looking for a party: anticipation of the evening to come but also apprehension for not knowing exactly who would be there, exactly what to expect, should I really even be doing this? Jane understood. Afterall, I was the only one she'd know at this party, and she had the fleeting concern over whether there would be other people her age (both of her children are in college). Arriving at around 5:00 PM to a small but friendly game of horseshoes, we were instantly met with warmth and hosptitality. This party might get big, we were told--huge in fact--but it was great that we had made it, and regardless of who and how many showed up, it was going to be a good time. After the tour of the house and grounds, Jane and I settled outside into comfortable conversations with old friends and newcomers, relaxed and happy to be outside in the exquisite mountain summer air, washed in the sweet sounds of the mandolin.
People kept arriving, including my brother, Daniel, and his girlfriend Sheila. We all chatted away, for hours, while the daredevils rode around on four-wheelers, while the "pig butts" slowly cooked, while the musicians arrived and instrument-cases accumulated, all while the sun went down.
Jane and I found ourselves at a picnic table with other blondes, complimenting each other in ways that sounded something like, "Oh, my gosh, you don't look a day over forty!" (By the way, that comment was not to me), and "What color are your highlights? They're so pretty," and "No way you have a thirteen year old daughter." "Girl, I'm thirty-four." All of us had children, none of whom were there, and it was great to gab with other mothers, compare notes, share pictures, and swell with pride from a distance for a change, from a distance. Jane's a major connector, so when she found out one of the ladies owned a boutique in West Jefferson, she started cooking up ways to set up a "Trunk Show" at the Spa weekend coming up in October.
More people, more music, more fun. Ben and his band sounded tight, and they were clearly having a good time. Ben had a vision of what he wanted this party to be, and as far as I could see, it was going his way. That made me happy, because Ben's a guy you want good things to happen to. He's got an abundance of positive energy, in a time when there's no such thing as too much, and it seemed to spread out across the acres, to the thousands of Christmas trees that soaked up the sounds of SwillFest '06. Jane and I perched on the "back row" watching the revelers and musicians come and go. Out of nowhere, these tall guys in overalls showed up and eventually got on stage and played. "Overall" they sounded good--think "O, Brother, Where Art Thou?"-- but no one really had a handle on who they were or where they came from.
We stayed a lot later than either one of us thought we would. Time's fun when you're having flies. Jane was an excellent travel companion. On the drive home, after sleeping in and a delicious lunch al fresco in Blowing Rock, our conversation settled into me, my goals, and my general "five-year" plan. Again, we never got around to playing our CDs.
I was thrilled to see David and the kids, and vice versa for them. I asked David what the most challenging part of the weekend was and he said just being "on" for such a long stretch without a break. And the best part? Laughing with the kids, all day it seemed, waiting for me to get home. SwillFest was what it was: A mid-summer music fiesta in the woods in the mountains. For me though, it was much more.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Outta the Mouths of Babes
Advanced aplogies for anyone who might be offended/shocked/or grossed out by what follows:
I'll start off with a "Rated G" one:
Johnny: I'm tired. I have a yawn in my mouth.
And moving on and out of the G Rating...
Johnny: I just vomitted a little bit in my mouth.
The Scene: Sunday School, song time, singing a song about different animals and what we'd do if we had wings like a butterfly, a trunk like an elephant, etc. the point being that "I just thank the Lord for making me me." It gets to the point in the song that goes, "If I were an angle worm..." and Grace blurts out: 'penis.'
Grace: She a ho. (We can thank Aunt Kate for that)
Johnny: Batman has a "gina" (pronounced with a long "i")
Grace to her preschool teacher: Mommy had diarrhea this morning. (Thanks, Grace. My little girl with a speech delay. Looks like you can utter a complete sentence when you want to.)
And saving the R Rating for last...
The Scene: I'm driving the kids home from school one day, and they each have a sticker. Johnny is trying to peel his off and put it on his hand. Apparently, this is a difficult and frustrating task.
Johnny: (and he said the complete words) f-ing sh_t! This sticker, f-ing sh_t!
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Listen Up
I like it when I'm turned on to new music that I like. That happened recently. Amos Lee is an artist to check out if you like mellow, jazz-like, folk-ish, blues-twinged good songwriting. The last track on his self-titled album (2005) is a cover of a John Prine song, "The Sound of the Speed of Lonliness". Beautiful version of a really great song. My dad agreed and told me that Prine and Nanci Griffith do a good version also.
If you haven't heard, The Vacation is an LA-based fairly new rock band that Jet called their favorite new band (last Fall) who could be on the verge of hitting it big time. Personal friends of mine. Well, personal friends of a personal friend of mine, but still...I did hear them live at Local 506 in Chapel Hill (last Fall) and hung with the twins before the show. That is important to know if and when they hit it big.
And lastly, I pulled out a 1999 copy of "Summertown" by the Mayflies USA, (a Chapel Hill band who I haven't heard anything from in years...) Listening to this CD on the way to work today just made me smile...thinking about where I was and what I was doing in 1999, the fact that David and I tried to "cover" one of these songs at a music party and butchered it completely but had fun doing so, and the fact that I also have a personal friend (well, not friend, former acquaintance) in this band also.
If you haven't heard, The Vacation is an LA-based fairly new rock band that Jet called their favorite new band (last Fall) who could be on the verge of hitting it big time. Personal friends of mine. Well, personal friends of a personal friend of mine, but still...I did hear them live at Local 506 in Chapel Hill (last Fall) and hung with the twins before the show. That is important to know if and when they hit it big.
And lastly, I pulled out a 1999 copy of "Summertown" by the Mayflies USA, (a Chapel Hill band who I haven't heard anything from in years...) Listening to this CD on the way to work today just made me smile...thinking about where I was and what I was doing in 1999, the fact that David and I tried to "cover" one of these songs at a music party and butchered it completely but had fun doing so, and the fact that I also have a personal friend (well, not friend, former acquaintance) in this band also.
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