| | OOOh. It feels good to write again. We don't have the internet anymore, so it is difficult to keep up with this. I'm feeling like an update is in order. This past year has seen a ton of change. Fiona is enormous. She is 15 months old this month. Today, actually. I am more in love with her than ever. I guess that tends to happen to parents. The month of July was pretty much our vacation month. A trip to Alexandria with Bryan's family, a solo (just Fiona and me) trip to Wisconsin to see my parents, and then a big family vacation in Boston for the last couple weeks. Boston is glorious, as my friend Kristin would say. So is Gloucester, a small fishing village just north of Boston. I appreciate them both so much for different reasons. We went out there to say goodbye. Bryan's sister Becky, her husband Patrick, and son Marcus are moving to the Middle East next month. It was kind of a crazy time in general, but relaxing in other ways. In the midst of the craziness of being with three children under the age of 3 and adults going in a zillion different directions because they seem to have forgotten how to sit still, Gloucester got under my skin. I am in love with Gloucester. I love the rocks. I love the ocean. I love the fishy, salty smell. I love the people there and their tan, weathered skin. I love the way they congregate on the rocks by the ocean every evening when the sun is sinking. They skip around on the rocks in their swimsuits and slip into the water, telling vacationers from land-locked states that the water is "incredibly warm," when, in fact, it feels like ice. They laugh and smile, and some of them talk with a Boston or New York accent. Many of them have some type of drink in their hand. They share their corn chips with us. They understand things like where to find mussels, where the lobster traps are and which belong to whom, and that the seaweed on the rocks is edible, and actually tastes delicious. As our plane was lifting off the ground, I stared at the ocean and thought about how this wonderful place had become a part of me. At the same time, it felt so good to be home. We opened the door to our house on Montreal Avenue, and the hot air from inside the house puffed in our faces. We ran around, into the kitchen, through the dining room, up the stairs. No wasps got in this time. Everything is still here. Fiona shrieked happy shrieks, like she knew where she was and that maybe she would be staying awhile. Our garden greeted us with big yellow squash and green beans a little bit too big to eat. There were tomatoes and lettuce. We gathered them all up and put them in a big white bowl. They were fun to look at. Our first harvest in our first garden. It felt good.
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| | Posted 8/10/2008 2:54 PM - 77 Views - 8 eProps - 4 comments
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