give a penny, take a penny

i love using old-fashioned soda bottles for vases. especially orangina soda bottles. our friend zoran gave us a beatiful bunch of pale-pink tulips for our anniversary, and he gave us a tip. he said to put a penny in the vase, that that was what he had heard, that it keeps the stems straight. a penny? is it a chemical reaction to copper? well, i tried it, and wouldn't you know: it worked! for two weeks, they didn't droop once, even once they were dead. they were dead and straight. so then i thought i would try the penny trick with my other bunches of flowers i've been getting from trader joes, as advertised, to "brighten your day!" (which they do. splashes of color all over the apartment, in soda bottle vases.) even the giant gerber daisies, which have always had the hardest time holding their heads up, are standing tall and straight, with the loyal penny at their feet. and it's been five days and counting...

today at the grocery store, i noticed the woman behind me in the check-out line had a bunch of pale-pink tulips, practically wilting as we stood. i thought: if only she knew about the penny trick. why not? i'll pass it along. so i told her, and she was really excited. she beamed and said she was going to try it out as soon as she got home. who knows? maybe she'll tell someone else...

in the middle of the night

walked francis to school in the rain this morning.
francis played soccer in the rain yesterday.
and we watched him play baseball in the rain the day before that.
inotherwords...and in not so many words: we've had some rain.

on saturday night, creeping into sunday morning, at 3:30am, we awoke to noise, light, and sound in our bedroom. we gradually became aware of flashing lights, the back-up beep-beeping of large vehicles, and the very clear sound of voices right outside our window. greg peeked outside and said: "they're moving the house across the street."
the nice old house next to it had recently been demolished to make way for more condos. condos that are devouring our block, our town. we knew the corner house would go next. soon, it will be a whole block of condos, right across our street. (sigh) we heard that this house was being moved, and the tractor-trailer has been parked there all week, with a crew taking down the chimney, securing the windows, porch. we wondered how it would happen, and that one day, we would come home and the house would be gone. well, apparently, it happens in the middle of the night.

we pulled on pants, and coats, and slippers and headed outside. there were people EVERYwhere! there were: emergency crew, seattle city light crew taking down the electic wires--(which were just laying on the ground, by the way, very scary, we didn't know if they were live or not), a huge spotlight on the house, a television crew, and numerous constructions workers...PLUS about the entire neighborhood of people who could not sleep in all the noise, they were out in true seattlite fashion: they had their dogs with them, and they had their coffee. THEIR COFFEE, PEOPLE! AT 3:30 IN THE MORNING! COFFEE! IN TO-GO CUPS! from where?? i have no idea what coffee place is open at 3:30 in the morning; we couldn't believe it. one woman ran up next to me, with her dog, and breathlessly gasped: "isn't this the most amazing thing you've seen in your life?" i just squinted at her with my one eye that was barely open, and the other eye i couldn't get to open at all. i'd have to say: definitely not THE most amazing thing. i'd say more fascinating than managing to dislodge the house from it's foundation and secure it onto the truck, is the spectacle of human nature: dozens and dozens of people, out of bed, watching. i guess part of it stems from "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em", i mean, it's not like i could go back to bed and fall asleep. yes, i admit, we were out there too.

BUT. we were NOT part of the masses that FOLLOWED the house down the street, in the night parade that ensued.(??)

we promptly went back to bed. unfortunately, it was now 4:45am, and just as our heads hit the pillow, and the rumblings of the house/crews/people/trucks receded in the distance, and all was just about quiet...the birds woke up and began their pre-dawn chirping, so loud we could barely get back to sleep...

nine to nine

today was gray. today was friday. and today, i cleaned my room.

yesterday, i took down the suitcases from my closet, to switch out my winter clothes for my stored summer ones, and i made a big mess. i've always liked the process of taking out my summer clothes; it's like finding treasure. things that i had forgotten i had -- to be discovered all over again. color. the only downer being that almost all of my summer clothes do not fit me. they are, sadly, too small.

today i: did the laundry, washed the towels, washed the dishes, swept the floor, and cleaned my room. then francis was home from school and we had teatime, with the usual: tea, crackers, cheese, salami, and fruit. it was blustery outside with a storm on the way. we went to the library, to get our friday night movie, and then to safeway, to get the dinner that i wanted: frozen pizza, rootbeer, and icecream. then we came home, cooked our pizza, and watched "nanny mcphee". it was either that or "godzilla raids again" and greg picked nanny mcphee because it 1.) was NOT godzilla, again, and 2.) had emma thompson and colin firth in it. i was partly afraid it would be one of those annoying kid films, but was partly curious because it had emma thompson, and i couldn't picture her doing an annoying kid film. she was lovely and magical. (i didn't remember until the end that she wrote the screenplay.) and of course i teared up at the end, because i cry at most movies. always have. i'm a sucker for a good story and a happy ending; it's like...honey on toast...

oh, whistle while you work...

after a record high yesterday of something that was pretty darn hot and lovely, it is back to cold and gray today. those sunny days kind of depress me, because i know its just too much to ask to get summer two days in a row...
for mothers day, (it was again cold and gray) we thought about what we should do after church. i was trying to think of what restaurant i wanted to go to, when francis piped up from the back seat: "i really want to go home and make you waffles for mothers day, mama, because i can do them all by myself." greg and i gave one look to eachother and turned around and headed back home. i was promptly kicked out of the kitchen, while all sorts of banging ensued. i gotta say: my mothers day present was actually pretty stressful. i couldn't help peeking in, and there was MESS everywhere! i said: i'm gonna need a coffee. i was pushed out into the living room and told to RELAX. read a magazine or watch tv or something. so i tried to read a magazine. i heard francis exclaiming "THAT is NOT how mama does it!" sigh...oh the torture. i tried to come in again and greg said that...hmmm, maybe i was a bit of a control freak? in the end, i was seated at the table, and francis was almost in tears because his waffles were pouring out of the waffle-iron and all over the counter. and i had to say that i've been making waffles for dozens of years, and this is his first time. oh, and that he's only 9. he'll get better. but. he didn't burn them and with butter and syrup, they tasted just fine. in fact, they were good. and like the cat in the hat, they cleaned up their mess. it took them awhile, but they did. and i took a nap. and that was nice.

sunshine outside my window...

i love stumbling across something new, something that gets you excited, something you weren't planning. i was in my favorite kids consignment store getting a baby gift, and after i selected it, i perused the used books. i love coming home with books for francis, and i love even more that he loves to get them. i had quite a stack already when i looked at my watch and realized i needed to bolt to get him from school on time. as i was waiting in line, this book caught my eye, "the animal kingdom", so i just grabbed it because it was hardcover and old, and francis loves animals. it wasn't til i got home and looked inside that i realized i had purchased a dollar-fifty treasure. the insides weren't old 60's photos like i thought it would be; they were old 60's illustrations, so unusual and striking. francis and i looked carefully at each page, because each page held a mystery, and i realized: a photograph of an animal is expected, and you know now what they look like. it can be an amazing photograph, and we are continually amazed by these creatures God has created. but to see an illustration, THAT is different. i asked francis: how do you think he got that idea? and we picked out our favorite ones. we've left the book on our coffee-table, and many have picked it up and been delightfully surprised and enamored by the drawings inside. it prompted me to google the artist: charles harper, and what i've discovered is: i probably couldn't afford to have his art hanging on my wall, but i've got his art already, in my library...

ready for summer

i know it's not officially summer until june 21, but with today being the fourth day of sunshine in a row, it's hard to not get excited. so you don't think i'm a complete grump, i'll post some sunshiney pictures. i take different routes to and from bringing francis to school in the morning, depending on my mood. on sunny days, i like to walk down this street, past these misplaced palms, and feel the sun on my face... they really get me in the mood to be warm. i'm ready for heat!

snail tracks on the way to school...

on days when the sun is peeking out, even a little bit, we get to see snail tracks. when it's gray out, they blend in with the sidewalk and are hard to see, but when the sun catches them, they glisten. we're not 100% sure that's what they are, as we've never caught a snail in the act of crossing, but we do see them on the other side of the sidewalk and we're putting 2 and 2 together. every day francis looks for them as part of his walk to school..."maybe today we'll see snail tracks", and when we see them, we marvel. when the tracks loop around in circles, he'll giggle: where are they going? what are they doing? we see snails on the garden walls, and especially in the bushes (? i didn't know snails could climb up into bushes, but, yup, they're up there.) and if they're on the path to danger, he'll pick them up and put them back in the grass...

a sunny monday night at shilshole

with sunshine and summer comes nights at the beach, our little beach, not a BEACH beach, but it will do. bonfires, hot dogs on the grill, roasting marshmallows on hangers for smores, and makeshift beach baseball...

proof

i took this picture last week, as proof for those who do not live in seattle, and really, as proof for myself, so that i know that i am not crazy when i say the gray skies are like a low ceiling. the blue tries hard, it really does, but most days, the gray is just too strong...
on this day, before picking up francis from school, i checked the weather, because i was walking. the weather report had said thunderstorms, to which i was excited (contrary to what you may think: i'm not opposed to weather that does something. thunderstorms are rare in seattle, and i miss them, and alas, the predicted thunder did not happen) but when i stepped outside to test it myself, the sky was blue, so i set off with just a jean jacket and no umbrella. all the way to school i saw blue skies. but when i picked up francis, and we turned around to head home, the sky that had been behind me was completely black. i said: "francis, let's see if we can make it home before the rains come!" and we set off briskly. he just shook his head in resignation and said "mama. i think it must be true. the rain really DOES follow you wherever you go." (inside joke of my family) we walked fast, the wind picked up, and i actually got excited that we might experience thunder and lighting...something to make the gray worth it...but they never came. the rains started chuckin' it down when we were about a block away and francis said "let's run!" once inside, it started pouring, and was just the sort of afternoon to catch up on some wonder woman netflix and planet earth episodes.
today marks sunshine for three days in a row...
i'm ready for summer...

been a long time coming...

we've reached ten years! (ten-ure?)

dear friends...
many of you were around to witness a bold and moody tomboy move from pennsylvania farmland into seattle's infamous House of Funk over ten years ago, back in the spring of '95. i had always wondered whatever possessed my parents to allow that in the first place, given that "boys", and many of them, lived there, but looking back, i wonder if my mother had secretly been hoping i would find myself a husband (as mothers are often wont to do...) well, as provincial timing would have it, i actually did meet the boy who would become my future husband IN the house of funk. he didn't live there, he crashed there. regularly. i remember ed saying i was going to get to meet his friend "greg from portland" and that he was "so funny" i was gonna love him. well, the first time i met him: he had a closely-buzzed head, horn-rimmed glasses, and sported a matching track suit and a purposeful girl-repellent thin mustache. and i remember thinking: what was so funny about this greg person? funny looking? sure, ok. (greg protests: he says, we were all watching a movie...what did i expect him to do?)
he crashed at the house for over a week, and i remember writing to melissa, on a paper bag, pages and pages of how much this boy was driving me nuts. we bickered endlessly. he pushed my buttons. he was brazen. but we hung out alot. when he left for the summer without saying
goodbye (i thought), i decided he was "on my list" and i vowed to not talk to him anymore. i saw him later that summer at tom fest; didn't talk to him. it was rather nose-in-air, anne-of-green-gables of me, i know. that september, i went on a 9-mile overnight hike with lisa snyder, her brother matt, a lisa-smitten brian glenney, and greg; and i still didn't talk to him. i know i know: pathetic, childish and extreme. but strangely,(or, looking back, not so strangely,) i was thinking about him all the time.
i moved into the Stone Way House, to bunk with danajill, and then greg moved to seattle, and moved there too. i said: what are you, following me? but our schedules collided more often than not...( i would come home from work at 1am, and he'd be still up, in the kitchen, just "happening" to have a bowl of cereal, and we would talk late into the night, into morning...) and soon i regarded him as friend. and then as good friend. and then i secretly couldn't wait to get home to talk with him. and then i finally admitted to myself that i really really liked him. and then i was in love with him. we were so inseperable that josh teased me incessantly that we were going to get married. i always scoffed: "no way". but i was in love with him so much, that in classic rachel-wisdom, i decided to move back home.
i went home that winter, catching a ride with josh, and drove thru the worst weather i have ever driven in: idaho black ice, colorado blizzards, kansas wind-storms, and ohio deep snow . we got home in a record 3 days/ 3 nights. josh drove for about...mmm... 10 minutes. and then he slept.
and slept. and slept. i think angels had my back, because i was just frantic...frantic to get home, frantic in my heart; my brain just hurt.
well, needless to say, greg was hurt and confused and depressed that his best friend left town so suddenly (did he just call me his best friend? yippee!) we started writing letters, long, almost daily letters for the next eight months we were apart. greg is, to this day, the only person who
has ever matched me page for page in the novellas-masquerading-as-letters i could write. i would write him 26 pages, he would send me 28. with bits of flowers, drawings, stamps...when he went to uganda in the spring, i quickly moved back to seattle and he was a little dismayed that he had "just missed" me. but he didn't know i had been waiting for him to leave...
greg continued to write, and i continued to be vague ("signed, your friend, rachel") i was so resolute in not giving my feelings away, that greg was convinced i had no feelings for him, he thought i had a heart of stone and that he didn't stand a chance with me. and so, he bitterly went elsewhere for love...
when he returned from uganda, i met him at the airport in portland. he came off the plane bearded and tan and muscular; i was so in love with him i thought i would faint, but managed to feign nonchalance. which was good, because that weekend, he told me he was with some one else and it was serious. however, he was testing my reaction, needed me to be disappointed, give some sign that i cared--because he was torn... but i didn't give him that. i immediately thought what an idiot i was for ever thinking greg could possibly like me, hugged him and told him how happy i was that he had found true love. and then i went to my room and bawled my eyes out.
what ensued was a month of nose-bleed stress: greg deciding he really did want to be with me, calling it off with the other girl, and then setting himself into wooing me. i think i gave him a
hard time. i didn't want to give in if it wasn't really gonna be IT. but he persisted, daily, for three weeks...then he wrote his last love letter, i call it his last because it was the final one that broke me, with a bunch of sobs,...and i finally confessed i loved him back.

and that is how our long bumpy road together started. all that drama, and that was just the beginning! ( don't even get me started on our honeymoon! that 3-month long road-trip that was supposed to be heaven? well, we joke that greg was ready to leave me by the time we reached
Denver; just who was this cry-baby pyscho-freak he had just been tricked into marrying? well, you can guess we were pretty relieved, albeit understandably dismayed, when we discovered i was pregnant--and that's a whole 'nother story--but, we have the Francis now, and we've decided to keep him.)

my father has recently offered something pretty close to an apology, over how cheap our wedding was. he said he is surprised i let him get away with it. that's ok, i forgive him; he was pretty new at it: i was his first child to get married, and now that he's on the fourth, he's finally realizing how expensive weddings really are. our barefoot/DIY/potluck wedding was just fine-for-the-times, i assured him, and looking back, there's really not much i would have changed (well, except for my frightful fountain hair. seriously. you should see the pictures...oh wait, greg says: his hair too. he would change his giant poofy hair. see? case in point: why spend all that money on weddings, when, in ten years, all you're going to think is: were you satisfied with your hair?...)

we've had a harder road than we thought it would be, and i'm so glad that we're still together. and that we still love each other. it's really crazy to ponder that it's been ten years, and if i ever really doubt it, i have a nine-year-old ready to remind me just by his very presence...loudly.
and with star wars sound effects...

xo