glories strung like beads

after a hurricane delay, which we spent happily lounging around holly's house in connecticut (sans electricity or running water, but with plenty of snacks and books), we drove into zoë's new neighborhood on monday morning.

we decided to ditch most of the scheduled events (i.e. panel discussions along the lines of "pointing your daughter in the right direction," as well as "don't be scared of new york city, it's actually quite safe now"), and instead subwayed downtown for falafel from taïm, which we ate on a bench atop the highline. zoë found a popsicle truck that made her so happy. see below: a sublime roasted yellow plum popsicle.

she was already pretty settled in her dorm room, though it was still half-naked, as her roommate's flight was delayed a couple of days.

(below, forbidden items. i just love that hookah so much.)

the view of broadway from zoë's room. she's on the top floor.

we drove off and left her there, our girl. our college girl, our city girl.

the odd uneven time

well, she's off again, this girl of mine. yesterday, mark and isaac drove her in the general direction of new york city, pausing for the night at holly's house for a few last hugs and a family sleepover. they will deliver the girl to barnard at some point this morning, where she'll drop her things off and get a first glimpse of her dorm room before she settles in for a week of community service. the three of us will drive back down there next weekend for the official move-in day and orientation, and then it will be for real.

this last week has been a mixture of happy-sad, and while the sad is pretty hard, the happy parts have been truly lovely. on thursday, zoë and i drove up to camden to climb our favorite little mountain, mt. megunticook.

it was so foggy down in camden that we couldn't see the harbor. still gorgeous, but in a strange, above-the-clouds kind of way.

we stopped for perfect iced coffee and a delicious white bean salad at zoot, and then drove that pretty drive back home.

i am an old hand at this girl-off-in-the-world thing, it's true. but still.

there goes summer over the hill

we had a bonus post-vacation week of sweeties, of dog walks and korean tacos and bubble tea and bookshops and movies and wading pools in the drizzly rain.

i'm certain that there's no one minnow would rather have spent his ninth birthday with. here, jonah and oona sing happy birthday while presenting him with a birthday-candled frosty paws (oona blew the candle out for him before he carried it happily away in his mouth).

portland i love you but you're bringing me down

portland. begging your pardon, but you're kind of getting on my nerves today. it's one of those days when the city seems to be full of two kinds of people: unfriendly, scrawny, tattooed hipsters and overly-friendly, scrawny, tattooed meth* addicts pushing strollers. besides the strollers, the way you can tell the difference is that the hipsters have white, expensively-straightened teeth. the addicts have significantly fewer teeth.

then i have to remind myself: the woman at gogi is so nice, as is the man at yordprom. the hipster barista didn't mean to offend when she called me "ma'am," nor did the addict-dad who advised me to get mirrored sunglasses so i could see behind me and be able to tell when someone's checking out my ass.




*or heroin? oxycontin? "bath salts"?

for once, then, something

a dreamy week on peaks island with the entire family. we did this ten years ago, before oona, stella, and ben even existed, and we rented the same cedar house in the woods that can accommodate our sprawling group and its sleeping, coffee drinking, feast-cooking-and-eating, and game-playing needs.

here i am hanging out with stella on the front porch of our rented idyll.

my favorite was the foggiest day and the leisurely walk around the island with zoë. the colors of wildflowers and girls in pretty dresses just glowed in the cool fog.

of course there were dogs, although not our own. oona and i started off by counting every dog we saw, but we quickly lost count. this guy was my favorite.

and this guy wandered in the open door just after i'd commented, "what this house needs is a dog." his name was fillippo, and my mom invented a past for him which involved a traumatic early life in puerto rico. he had a drink and then trotted off, back down the road from whence he came.

and the award for "most patient cousin" goes to my boy, who was always available to be played with, ordered around, and climbed upon.

this is chicken in a box.

my dad and beautiful ben. one night we all babysat while david and ellen went out to eat. we traded the baby back and forth, smelled his head and kissed his cheeks and even gave him a bottle despite the fact that he probably wasn't hungry, just for the fun of it.

my family.

the obligatory cousin shot.

i made oona pose for photos despite the fact that mosquitoes were biting her ankles. "ow!" she'd say, and i'd say, "use that emotion! look frightened! look furious! look to the right!"

can't you just see her in an anthropologie catalog?

rabbit rabbit

"...Such still air. Soon

the mid-morning breeze will float in

like tepid water, then hot.

How do I start this day,

I who am unsure

of how my life has happened

or how to proceed

amid this warm and steady sweetness?"

from August Morning by Albert Garcia