The art of letter writing.

On Saturday I found myself feeling a little lonely.  The day was dreary, the rain constant, and all of my little housekeeping jobs had been tackled, so I called my parents to see if they had plans for the night.  They so often do...I suspect that all socializing they must have put off during their earlier life due to things like raising a family and working is taken up again in spades come retirement.  Their calendar is packed with the obligatory doctors appointments, but also a non-stop stream of lunch and dinner dates, concerts and book readings, yoga classes, parties, etc.  It's nice.  I'm happy for them, but in this instance I was happy for me, as they had no evening plans and I could come home and play daughter and have supper with them and play cards, watch a movie, and generally just be adored and adore my parents. (which honestly, I do.)

Anyway, they told me about a recent dinner with an ex-student of my father's who has become a friend.  They both just love her...she was my father's favorite student, and the way she came to him was no small feat indeed.  At nearly fifty years old now, she had and gave up a son at the age of 17.  Shortly thereafter she took care of her parents, who were ill, until their deaths.  Somewhere during this time she became completely agoraphobic, and did not leave her home for 23 years, save to venture into the gardens around her yard.  She went on to graduate from Smith College.  She, by all rights, should be published...her writing is that good.  And how would I know?  From her letter writing.  She writes in almost journal form to my parents...starting a letter early in one month and going into the next...each segment as beautifully written as any short stories or essays I've ever written.  As my father read to me, I could almost smell the candy like aromas of the confectionery dream garden she's been planting in her head over the years....her writing as Emily Dickinsonian as her previous life.  She reads and writes a lot.  Her descriptiveness in one vignette about a woman, comparing her to a church, is so beautiful that even as my father reads it, he weeps...as do I...as do we all, because it's pure and true and lovely.

I cannot remember the time I have last received a letter in the mail.
I suspect it was during the winter months when my parents were in Florida, as they both still do write letters.
They shamed me into writing them back.
I believe that was the last letter I wrote...harried and passionate, written in a fit of frustration with them for making such a big deal about a letter.

Now I know why.
Writing is so personal.
Letters are important.
I need to write more.
I WANT to write more.
I will write.

I need to read...

I'm hungry for summer reading...lightweight fluff or historical novel, I need something to read.  On Monday, after Hannah's graduation and party on Sunday, I wisely took the day off and jumped head first into a novel.  Anita Shreve's "Seaglass - a Novel".  It was sweet, and made me realize that it's been too long since I've had a good read.

Now, while I don't know who is poking around here, I know somebodies are...someone's looking from time to time.  And if you read blogs, perhaps you read books, in which case I'd happily take suggestions.  I've got a weekend on the beach fast approaching and want to crack the spine of something while hearing waves crashing down around me.

I know there's a new Augusten Burrough's coming out, but don't know when.  Anyone?
Bueller?

How many days to get ready for a graduation party?

As many as I can possibly finagle, honestly!
That's my reasoning behind leaving at noon today.  Yes, it's Thursday. Yes, graduation is on Sunday.
You do the math...that's surely enough time to do everything I need to do...you know, excavate the yard, do all the gardening I've wanted to do for the last decade, apply fresh coats to paint to anything remotely dingy, par-cook enough chicken to feed forty or so friends and family...oh, and maybe there will even be time for a cleanse!  I'd love to drop 10 pounds by Sunday...what are the odds of that happening?

Realistically, this is how I think the next few days will be spent:

Trip to New Hampshire to purchase mass quantities of booze.
Friday - Saturday:  Drink mass quantities of booze purchased on Thursday in New Hampshire.
Sunday:  Run around willy-nilly and slightly hung over trying to make deviled eggs and hope nobody will notice that I may not have gotten around to scrubbing baseboards in my bathrooms.

YAY!

How is it even possible to have a child old enough to graduate?!

Because seriously, last time I looked, she was about 10.   It's hard to believe that two little long haired, twirling hippies had a baby, just yesterday, I swear:

I'm not even sure she was baby so much as little froglette here...and we were so young and absolutely CLUELESS about the adventure we were setting out on.  But somehow, this little baby thrived in our care:

Became a beauty...we thought (still do) the most beautiful baby in all the land.  She was witty and funny, even as a toddler, speaking to us in adult speak accented by a faint lisp...one that my speech therapist mother didn't even have to cure...she was so smart she self corrected!

We delighted in the fact that her hair stayed red, and were even more pleased when freckles dotted the bridge of her nose, and eventually her entire sweet face:

a la the then also sweet faced Lindsay Lohan!

This sweet little girl of mine is at school for her last full day.  Her last full day of high school!  Tomorrow she goes to prom...looking like the most beautiful girl I've always known she is:

The world is lying at her feet.  Anything can happen.  The future belongs to her.  I'm insanely proud and love her fiercely.  And while I occasionally miss that sweet baby face, I look forward to knowing the woman she is becoming.  I mean it, despite the tears that are welling up trying to convince me otherwise.

How do we feel about this "Rapture" I keep hearing so much about?

I'm not a great planner, but I'm thinking about a post Rapture brunch?!  You know, because post Rapture looting should never be attempted on an empty stomach.  What best captures the essence?  Eggs Benedict?  Too showy?  Fritatta?  I just don't know.  Definitely Bloody Marys...got to get my courage up pre-loot.  Just hope I don't get all sleepy from the food and drink and miss out on all the iPads!  Wish me luck!

and on the umpteenth day, we started to build the damn ark!!!!!

It's rainy again today.
I cannot the last day it wasn't rainy...no, wait...yes I can.  Last Friday...one week ago tomorrow.
I know this because I desperately wanted to flee my workplace but everyone else already had that idea before me, so I was the loser left behind minding the fort.  My friend got completely sunburned that day in a way that I am actually jealous of now, knowing that he started his base tan nearly a week ago, and I have no idea when we might actually see that big yellow orb again.  The newscasters tease us with ongoing regularity...on Tuesday it was Thursday, last night it was Monday, today it looks like Tuesday...for the love of all things not already soggy...let it be soon!!!

On the upside, it makes for lovely white noise and decent overall sleeping conditions.
I have to focus on the upside.

Other good things about rainy days:

I don't feel guilty about getting snuggly with a book on the sofa after work.
Comfort food tastes even better somehow.
We're in for a string of beautiful days once it stops...or at least I hope so.  Maybe all this rain now will mean no rain for Hannah's prom and/or commencement?
Curly hair?
Saving propane for later in the summer, when I absolutely will NOT want to turn on the oven?

What say you?

Anyone else finding anything to celebrate with all this rain?

Blogger ate a post

Which is somehow alright with me, as I was sort of slamming somebody in it, but dammit, it was MY POST...and now it's just gonzo.

Today is one of those glorious once in a season kind of days and I'm working...a regular cellar dweller, missing the entire thing!  It's bollocks!  Also bollocks?  The fact that more than half this office is out and it's Parents' Weekend.  I am in jack-in-the-box mode and exhausted by it.  My feet hurt.  Mostly because I wore pink very high heels in support of my sweet friend Jodi's walk for breast cancer.  I'm head to toe pink, but the toe part is feeling extremely tired right about now...killing me!

It's been a long week, and I'm ready for it to end, but mostly I'm wishing/ACHING to be outside...face to the sun getting a sprinkling of cinnamon sugar freckles across my nose while sipping an iced coffee and reading a good book.  Why can't I have this?