That went fast.
Remember when grownups would always say that time goes faster as you get older? Another summer has come and gone and I find myself wanting to acknowledge all the sweetness of summer before settling down to fall.
There were so many good parts:
flip-flop tans
iced-coffees on the back patio (Will learned to make ’em better than me) Continue reading →
“Geez, why can’t he drive himself to Driver’s Ed?” Jenny reaches over to turn up the radio.
“Well, yeah. That probably wouldn’t work. Thing is, life is kinda full of inconveniences. You can be annoyed by all of ’em, or you can decide to look at the little opportunities hiding in them.”
“What do you mean?”
We are sitting at a light that seems to be taking forever. “We have to do this twice a day – take Will to class and then pick him up an hour and a half later. We could choose to be cranky about it, but I like to think that it’s nice to have this car time. You know… we see how the rest of the world scurries from school to soccer to the grocery store and home. It makes me appreciate our unconventional life. Besides, we get to listen to music, sing, laugh and complain about never finding a good song on the radio when you want one.”
“Yeah, I guess I see what you mean.”
“Sorry about my singing.”
“You aren’t that bad, mom.”
“Maybe you should sing louder than me.”
At the next light I say, “You know, it’s kinda like the kitchen remodel. We can be annoyed at how inconvenient it is to cook or make a bowl of cereal, or even put water on for coffee. Or we can get excited about the process. I love that time when Will is at Driver’s Ed and you and I are listening to Pandora and painting. Those are gonna be great memories. And I love Will coming home and seeing what we’ve gotten done while he’s been away.”
“I guess. It’ll be nice when it’s done. But I do love the painting.”
“And what other mom decides to make biscuits from scratch during a kitchen remodel? I mean those moments make fun conversations.”
“Hey, I need the pastry blender.”
“Mom, I’ll get it.”
“Thanks, honey. It’s in my bedroom.”
From the bedroom, “Mom! What’s a pastry blender?”
Yelling back to the bedroom, “It’s the thing that looks kinda like a slinky with a wooden handle.”
“Got it!”
“See? We’d be missing out on all that fun, if we hadn’t undergone all this torture.”
“I think I get it. You have an interesting perspective, mom.”
“I know… you think waders would make fishing that much better, but we’ve both heard the stories of them filling with water. I don’t want you to end up bobbing down the river with your head under water. You need to do some research. Let’s learn a bit more and figure out which waders to stay away from. You can make that part of school today.”
“So mom, here’s a guy who says that he can walk in the river better when he takes in a little water. He says it makes it easier to maneuver.”
“Nice. And how many years has he been fishing? Hey, did you get the other stuff on your list done before Googling fishing waders?”
“Mo…..om. I’m done with the other stuff. Here’s a guy who has a pair that has drainage holes and some draw strings around the neck and waist.” Continue reading →
“Your coffee’s always better than mine.”
“That’s cuz you had someone else make it for you. Here… have a little more.” She fills both mugs and reaches for the half and half.
“Thanks, Ann. Look, she’s up on the roof. Is she cleaning her chimney?”
“Yep. This morning she was up there cleaning her gutters and trimming tree branches.”
“Why doesn’t she hire that stuff done?” Continue reading →
“Mom, what colors do you pick?”
“Um…. how about red, purple and turquoise.”
“Oh, that’ll be pretty. I’ll see if I can layer the beads in this little jar.” She makes a teensy funnel out of a scrap of paper.
“Okay! The beads are in, and they stayed in separate layers! Look! What do you want the label to say?”
“Well…. I’m not sure. How about, “Faith, Hope, Love.”
“I like that. I’ll have to write real tiny.” She cuts a thin strip of paper, just long enough for three words.
“Oh, Jenny! It’s beautiful! Thank you.”
As she sorts beads for the next jar she asks, “Where are you going to put it?”
“How about in a window where it can catch the sun?”
She dusted the potting soil off of the rim of the clay pot. “Mom, I potted the Hoya clipping. They’re supposed to be in a north-facing window. Where should I put it?”
“Well, we have two options. Let’s see if we can make room for it.”
“Did you have more plants at dad’s house?”
“Yeah, we had lots of houseplants at dad’s house.”
“How come?” Continue reading →
“Whoa cowboy! Slow down a bit. You’re getting the green on the ceiling.”
“Oh, sorry about that. This rolling is fun. Look how much you can get on the roller before you put it on the wall.” Will dunks the roller and I wince as he takes the roller from the tray to the wall.
“Yeah, it’s cool. If you go too fast, tho’, it’ll splatter all over the kitchen.” I stand at the ready with paper towels.
“K. But maybe if I do it thick enough, it’ll only take one* coat. Sorry about the ceiling.”
“That’s okay. It’s fixable, but we don’t wanna have to repaint the whole ceiling. Maybe you paint like an extrovert.”
“I know, right?”
Jenny walks over and asks for a little more paint. She takes the stir stick, dips it in the sage green and lets it run onto the lid of the paint can. “That should be enough.” She heads back to the corner of the kitchen where she creates a mermaid with steady, deliberate watercolor paintbrush strokes.
“I’m not gonna want to paint over her, Jen. She’s gorgeous.”
“That’s okay, mom. I’ll paint her again in my bedroom.”
“Maybe you paint like an introvert.”
“I know, right?”
*One coat of the sage green was enough to cover. :)
“Jon, dear, please remove your fingers from your ears. How will you break your fall if you should crash that board you insist on riding?”
He streaks by with an annoyed look on his face. He doesn’t hear Margaret. He’s trying not to hear anything. Tuning them out is not possible. That’s all they do. They talk and blather on and they never stop to listen. He makes another pass and stops in front of Gladys, “If I hadn’t lost my ear buds, I wouldn’t have to plug my ears. Have you seen my buds anywhere?”
Gladys exhales a long puff of cigarette smoke, looks at Jon and says, “What are buds?”
“Speakers. Ear buds are little speakers that fit in your ears. I plug ’em into my iPod and listen to music. You know, music? I lost my buds.”
“You mean that white cording draped over that marker back there? Are those the ear buds you speak of?” Continue reading →
