bluerainroom

Ahem, bunnies

This is why they're all hanging out in our yard.

We took a little trip, and some of us are about to take another.  I'll be back to blogging next week.  TTFN (that's "ta ta for now," Dad.)

work life

My work is in a funny place right now.  Sort of a "the more things change, the more they stay the same" kind of place.  We have a new headmaster at our school, and that means all sorts of sweeping changes in all sorts of ways.  He'll come in, as he should, and change things.  Already we see evidence of that, from a new desk in the office to new events on the calendar.  A new head of school means a new boss for me.  And so I'm in a weird sort of place, where everything I'm doing is almost exactly the same as I did last year at this time, almost exactly the same as I always do, but it's not.  It's different. 

I'm very lucky in my work, as I continually seem to be reminding Callum, that the projects I have over the summer I am able to do largely from home.  My laptop and I hang out together for a few hours every morning, and we're still able to go to the beach or Callum is still free to play with his friends.  Each week we go into school, and while Callum has karate, I've been meeting with my new boss.  And it's been good.  I like this guy.  So far we seem to be working well together.  But as I was chatting with a neighbor last week, I finally put my finger on just the sense I've had about these weekly meetings.  You know how it is when you meet a new person, say a new girlfriend or you and your partner meet another couple and you decide to get together for coffee or go out to dinner, and you have that "first date?"  That first time you get together where you're glad to be together and it's fun to be together and get to know each other, but still, just a little, it's taking a bit of work?  Well that's how it feels each week in these meetings with my new boss.  Every Wednesday from 10-11 a.m. is like another first date.  I think if I were there all week, working in the office every day we'd be past that, but we're not.  So our sentences stumble over each other and our conversations can veer from halting to rapid-fire in practically a breath.   I love my job, and I don't want to look like an idiot, but it's been a long time since I've come home wondering how things were going and if it were okay to tell someone when I disagree about something.  I'm sure that equilibrium will come, but it's early days yet.  And early days can be daunting.

My old boss? I could pretty much predict his reaction to any given situation.  And I was never afraid to disagree with him.  Megan, I'm assuming you'll have something to say about that.

So while all the things I'm doing are pretty much the same, everything feels like it's changed.  I'm changing too.  Thinking about doing different kinds of things.  Trying to extrapolate my favorite parts of my job and create some reason out of them.  I have a friend who is a freelance editor (Hi Cookie!), and we've been chatting about work quite a bit lately.  She feels that I'm a writer with editorial tendencies (is that the way you put it?), all the while I find myself yearning for the structure and order of editing, not the wild storm of chaos that writing seems to be. (We're both yearning a bit for those things that are other than what we are doing at present.)  It has been a big part of my job, editing and helping to frame the message of our school.  I can't tell if it's going to stay or go away.   And maybe, if I like it so much, it's time to think about it more, doing it more than just for my school.  I've been thinking about that a lot too.  Branching out.  Trying to learn some more.  Go legit.  What was #9 again?

This whole late of summer feels like a giant step into the unknown.  Must be why I so desparetly wanted some new shoes.

we gather

There was a birthday to celebrate on SOBO last week, and we love nothing more than a good excuse for a gathering.

We take these things kinda seriously.  The cocktails were from the June issue of Martha Stewart Living.  They're called Gemini and were very refreshing on a night when I kept telling people I was "dewy, not sweaty."  It was one of our very few muggy nights all year.

And did you get a load of those cupcakes?  I am so glad that Catherine has been bitten by the cupcake baking bug this summer.  Callum and I thought about them all day.  Those little baby ones especially.  Perfectly sized.  And strawberry icing.

Hmmmm.  We take our ice cream eating very seriously around here too.  Protective headgear and everything.

We lingered late into the evening listening to old Jackson Five on the outdoor speakers.  Lovely summer night.  I hope you had a great birthday, Nurse Rebecca.  Many happy returns of the day.

I still like meat

We don't eat a ton of meat. Much to my son's despair, that is.  But don't get me wrong.  My family likes a good steak or burger.  And don't forget bacon.  Still, we try to be mindful about things in our own haphazard way, and I was tooling around on the internets one day and stumbled across this site.  So Meat Free Monday it is.  I like nothing more than a little structure in my life.

It's taking a bit to get our sea legs under us. (Which means, I kept forgetting for a couple of weeks there)  And after weeks of yogurt and toast for breakfast, Callum asked for bacon yesterday and I had the plate in front of him before I remembered.  But!  After those six pieces were were golden.  And Neel and I carried the banner for the family. 

It's so easy to go meat free in the summer.  This quick, off-the-cuff pasta dish is brimming with fresh veggies.  Mushrooms, zucchini and squash, quickly sauteed in a bit of olive oil, then reduced with a bit of sherry and bound together with a splash of cream.  We tossed some parm in there and we were off.

All it needs is a bit of bacon.

leap

"I really believe that if the political leaders of the world could see their planet from a distance of 100,000 miles their outlook could be fundamentally changed.  That all-important border would be invisible, that noisy argument silenced. The tiny globe would continue to turn, serenely ignoring its subdivisions, presenting a unified facade that would cry out for unified understanding, for homogeneous treatment. The Earth must become as it appears: blue and white, not capitalist or communist; blue and white, not rich or poor; blue and white, not envious or envied."  Mike Collins, Command Module Pilot, Apollo 11

bunnies!

And the beagle never knew...

step one was the stove

Step Two:  My back is killing me Paint the island.

We've changed the color from something called "cinnibar" (a brickish red) to something called "Brown Velvet," a Valspar Historical interior satin.  When you're stiring it in the can, it looks just like chocolate brownie mix as you add the liquids to the solids.  I've finished the frame of the island, the fronts of the drawers and two coats on the fronts of six of the eight doors.  I have to finish the backs of those six doors and both sides of the remaining two.  We have a stainless top on the island, and once the painting is done Neel is going to remove it and reanchor.  I'll paint the exposed underside then, and I'm thinking I'll do a contrasting color.  My back hurts, and I've had about enough of brown. 

we did go on a little vacation, didn't we?

I know, I know, that trip was weeks ago.  Who wants to hear about it now?

I just love Washington D.C.  It's such an exciting, vibrant city.  So much is going on there, but it feels so do-able too.  Callum's been angling to go for years now, and we did it in just the right way.  A couple of half-days in the city, plenty of time in the hotel pool and the knowledge that we live close enough to come back any time.  And it was so fun to see with my young politico, too.  (Neel's convinced that Callum's destined for the foreign service.)  When we turned the corner and saw the White House for the first time, he simply breathed, "Oh my gosh."

This towering vision followed us everywhere.

There was lots of walking.

It's a pretty city that makes walking easy.

Vietnam Memorial.

Lincoln Memorial

Stepping into the darkened hallway to see this magnificent statue always brings tears to my eyes.  The low lights, hushed voices and glow from the marble all illuminate the power of this beautiful piece of art and amazing man.

There was lots of reading too.  Callum insisted on reading every word at the Linclon Memorial, of both the second Innaugural addres and the Gettysburg address.  We lost track of him for the barest of seconds after the he'd read the Gettysburg address, but I found him pretty quickly, sitting on one of the top steps looking out over the Mall toward the Washington Monument.  He looked deep in thought, overwhelemed with emotion, almost.  I was instantly skeptical.  This boy can be pretty dramatic, and if he told me how moved he was  by Lincoln's words, I was going to have to cry "BS" on that one.  When I asked if he was okay, Callum said simply, "Man that was a lot of reading."

The World War II Monument was really beautiful.  We rested our tired feet in the fountain and listened to the burbling of the water.

Next day, more walking.  A tour of the US Capitol

and her beautiful rotunda.

On a tip from a colleague of Neel's we had lunch at the National Museum of the American Indian, and it was one of the best meals I've had in a long time.  Neel and Callum had salmon, of course, and I had what's called a "plate of color," which are side dishes from the many regions of American Indians.  We sat by the window with a view of a gorgeous waterful, and the food was amazing.  So next time you go to DC, skip the pretzels and hot dogs on the Mall and go get some great food and culture.

Next stop was the high point for Neel and Callum, the Air and Space Museum, but I got sensory overload and had to sit down.  The highlight for me (and for Neel too, actually) gets its own post tomorrow.

On our last night we had dinner at our favorite kind of restaurant, a Spanish tapas house in Arlington, but I'd wager to say we all felt like this. Still, I can't wait to go again.

we had grilled cheese

Ever since we knew the stove was going to be installed this week, I'd been racking my brain for ideas for what to make for our first meal on it.  My dad had tons of great suggestions like Beanie-Weenies or Spam.  Neel wanted pork chops.  Callum always wants fish.  My mind just couldn't settle on anything.   I think I was was daunted.  And overwhelmed.  It doesn't take much.  It looked, at one point that this might be a two day job, and I felt the barest hint of relief.  Off the hook.  No need to produce some fancy-schmancy meal with all the bells and whistles that first night at least.  When it was clear that things would be in a midden in the kitchen most of the day yesterday, Callum and I met Neel for Thai food for lunch and we ate our dang fool heads off.  So even though the guys finished up the job, still no dinner, right?  Again, I'm relieved.

Not my family.  No matter how big his bowl of Noodle Soup, Neel can still eat dinner.  When he says, "We could make grilled cheese,"  I think, oh yeah, I can manage grilled cheese.  And I'm such a dork.  Because when I go to get out our little non-stick pan that we always make grilled cheese sandwiches in one at a time, and Neel says, "why don't you use the griddle?" I burst into tears.

We celebrated with champagne and a DVRd episode of Top Chef Masters (I am really digging that show), and I am feeling pretty happy.

work day

We all worked hard around here today.  I don't have any pictures of Callum finishing this book in anticipation of the arrival of this book on our doorstep this afternoon, and now he's off doing the hard work that nine year olds do in the summer:  at the pool with his friends.

My work is on that lap top (thanks Dad and Happy Birthday!) and those papers spread about, but there have been people working much harder all around me.

Here's the hole where our old, electric, ceramic top stove used to go.

And here are some of the new stove men! 

I love the new stove men!  They were here all day, troubleshooting and figuring things out.  They're just doing their jobs, making sure that our house doesn't explode when they run the gas line.

I'm trying hard to avoid the old cliches, but they could have no idea how important it was for me to be cooking on a gas stove again.