put the lime in the coconut and you feel better / put the lime in the coconut drink ‘em both up / put the lime in the coconut and call me in the morning (listening to this with Katie right now!)
So life goes up, and things seem mostly good or even great, and life goes down, and things seem to be falling apart — nothing new there. I happen to be in an upswing right now, and it’s occurring to me how subtle the details can be, but how important they are to the overall temperature. Right now, the big things that contribute to my feeling that things are right in the world are travel-related. My vacation to Vietnam definitely helped, and now my time in Texas is a big contributor (of which more in a minute). But I woke up to two small-ish communications this morning that were much more boosting than their word count might’ve suggested.
I’m in a book group and a poetry group, and I just love them both for different reasons. My book group is filled with such interesting, wonderful women — the book is often secondary, and while I regret that a lot, the women are just so wonderful I don’t usually mind not talking about the book. I do mind, but gee they’re so great and I only get to see them once a month and I inevitably come away from the night’s meeting feeling kind of high and happy. My poetry group is also filled with interesting, wonderful women (and one similar man), but we stay tightly focused on discussing poetry, which thrills me. Really, how often in your life do you get to sit and talk about something like that — whatever it is that you particularly love? We actually talk about the poems we bring or write, we deconstruct them, plumb their meaning, see them differently. The poetry group members are very very smart (as are the book group members) so it’s high-wire fun. I brought the woman who organized the poetry group into the book club and last night was her first meeting — unfortunately, I didn’t get to be there, since I am here in Austin, but she wrote me and her note was one of the boosting things for me this morning. Her appreciation of the women in the book group, and her thanks for bringing her in, made me feel so great. My life is so rich with all these wonderful people, women (and one man) whose lives and intellect I get to share so easily.
The other communication that gave me such a boost was a comment left on a previous post. The commenter’s blog-related point spoke to her pleasure in reading my writing, which she characterized as genuine. Well! For anyone who writes, is there a better thing to hear? I love to write and have writing-related dreams that I constantly pull off the shelf, gaze at, and then put back on the shelf. The idea that someone takes pleasure in my words is so thrilling, it’s like an energy boost that shoots my little rocket into the higher levels of space. Her comment reminds me too that we are all kinds of things, big and small, to others and we’re not even aware of it. I mean something to my friends that I’m not all that aware of — you do, too. And you mean more to me than you know, you who read and also you who read and comment.
Now, to Texas. Yee-ha! As always, when I got off the plane at the Austin airport, everything in me settled down and relaxed as I walked through the terminal. The people look SO familiar. I did’t know any of them, but I might have! There is a Texas look, familiar at least to Texans. In New York, the general look (big old over-generalization coming) is Italian or Jewish. I’m neither. But I do look like the people here, and it’s more than bone structure in the face. And then they sound like me, too, double great! Not many have accents as thick as mine, but Texas shows up in certain words pretty reliably. Also, if you’ve never flown into Austin, you should know this so you can quickly plan a trip: LIVE MUSIC in the airport. There’s a stage set up and the band that was playing when I arrived was pretty great! Also, the food in the airport is not the normal airport fare. No Chili’s or Cinnabon or that pretzel place. Instead, it’s local restaurants, really good Mexican food, barbecue, Schlotzsky’s (a local sandwich place with uniquely great bread), a local ice cream joint. You step off the plane directly into Austin sounds and Austin smells.
The flight from Chicago to Austin was kind of neat. You know there’s that very friendly, midwest, Chicago way of being — people just seem not to be guarded, and to smile easily? Well, combine that with Texas and you have friendly squared (y’all do know that Texans are very friendly, right? DO NOT go by our politicians, please, who are assholes). There was so much laughter in the airplane, loud friendly joking by the flight attendants, it helped my weary bones, I’ve got to tell you. And then when we started our descent into the Austin area, it was shocking to see how dry and brown everything was. Nothing green to be seen anywhere, so sad and tragic. So much heat and fire, so little rain, so much loss.
The best thing of all, of course, was my daughter and her husband waiting for me. I ran to them and just felt such overwhelming joy. It sucks not seeing your kid very often. You spend all those years knowing nearly everything about them (though boy can you be surprised to learn the things you *didn’t* know!), being able to look at their faces every day and have a sense of how they’re doing, being able to care for them when they’re sick or tired or blue, playing games with them, laughing or fighting with them…..and then suddenly you see them a time or two a year. I can’t stop staring at Katie, and I don’t want to do anything more than be near her, look at her, listen to her, live in the midst of the life she lives while I’m here. Katie and Trey took me directly to Chuy’s for some delicious TexMex (which you cannot get in New York. No TexMex, delicious or otherwise), and then we came home, to their beautiful and comfortable home filled with Katie’s cozy touches. I’m a happy mama right now. Life is good.
all you need is love / all you need is love / all you need is love / love is all you need. that, and a big enough bandwidth for streaming.
Since I was coming home from Turkey on Actual Mother’s Day, my kids and I pre-arranged a deal where we’d celebrate Mother’s Day today. So I thought that meant I’d chat on the phone with the girls, as usual, and this year (unusually) I’d also get to talk to Will. I was overjoyed.
Despite our arrangement to wait, the girls did a variety of things on the actual day: facebook posts, emails, phone messages, etc. Of course that made me so happy, the bonusness of it.
Turns out, my very sneaky kids had something else up their collective sleeves. When I saw Will for his birthday yesterday, he was somewhat strangely insistent about seeing me for breakfast this morning. I had made plans for a day full of errands; still, Will was really wanting to see me, even 5 minutes, he said. So I said OK, let’s meet at 8am, and I went home and rearranged my plans. No big deal.
Yesterday afternoon my doorbell rang, and these were delivered, from my kids:

in addition to all the lovey stuff, the card said they hoped the flowers made my day a little sunshiney. THEY DID!
So, OK. My daughters live a time zone earlier than me, and typically sleep in on the weekend. My son didn’t get to bed until 3:30 am, and sleeps in on his days off. That’s the context.
I got to Starbucks this morning at 8am, where Will and I were meeting to figure out where to go for breakfast, and he was on the phone, and on his laptop. He held up his finger and asked me to hang on. No problem: mahjong. I love mahjong, and any opportunity to wait is an opportunity to play mahjong guilt-free. After a few minutes, I learned what was going on. Since all I really want is for all 4 of us to be together in the same place, they had planned to all be on video chat, so we could at least be together virtually. It didn’t work, I think because Starbucks has bandwidth limitations on their free wifi, but what an amazing gift. Of course it meant my daughters were up before 7am, and my son was up early enough to get to Starbucks 30 minutes early, to get the whole thing set up.
Of course it would’ve been brilliant for us all 4 to be together like that, with me sitting next to Will, but this plan was the huge gift in itself. We’ll do it, we’ll work it out and do a 4-way video chat, and I really look forward to that.
This was my best Mother’s Day, ever, and I’ve had some very nice ones. One year, when they were little, I woke up to “All You Need is Love.” Remember how it opens with a fanfare? Well, my kids were walking into my bedroom, Katie holding a pillow with a little tiara on it, and they had breakfast in bed for me. All you need is love. That’s right.
oh happy, sunny day. oh how i’ve missed you.
I had breakfast with Will this morning, which made me so so happy. We see each other every week (he only lives a couple blocks away from me), and it’s usually over a meal or a beer. Starting my day with him was especially wonderful. And you mothers out there, you’ll get this: he still smells like my boy.
Will refuses to have a straight photo made; I have literally hundreds of photos he took at arm’s length with every possible facial expression you could imagine. Plus extreme close-ups, some of which freak me out if I accidentally run across them, like his nostril. So I asked him if I could take his picture, and at the very last second he copped this sneer. Too bad, because his smile is gorgeous.
And then, not to make so damn much out of the simplest hat in the whole world, here’s the finished hat, on my head. It’s the dreaded “shot in the bathroom mirror” pose. And this will officially end my discussion of Marnie’s hat.

so slouchy! i love it. marnie wanted it because she has long hair and often wears braids, pinned up like katie davies (needled) does. this should cover her.
I have loads of work to do so this is quick. I decided not to do the Knit Crochet Blog week, though i did it last year and had a blast with it. I don’t know, I’m just not feeling it this year. But I do look forward to reading everyone else’s posts!
Happy Monday y’all. I hope it’s as sunny where you are as it is in NYC today. Glory. Bliss. Sun.
such a great time.
Absence is a mighty loud presence, and right now Katie’s absence from my morning is screaming at me. I had such a wonderful time with her, every single minute was just a joy. You know, you start life with your kids knowing every tiny little detail about them – how they smell, what their poop is like today, the fact that coconut makes them gag, the way they talk in their sleep, and slowly slowly they move away from you. As it should be, of course. And then one day they don’t live with you and you get the high-level updates, what they’re studying in college, what they’re up to (filtered, of course). And then one day they have a grown-up life somewhere else and you don’t know the texture of their lives, and you “visit” each other. That’s hard going.
And of course it’s the whole point. From the moment they are born, they’re leaving. But that doesn’t mean it’s painless, even though there are those times all through their growing-up years when the idea that one day you’ll have your life back helps keep you going. Life is funny like that, giving and taking with the same hand.
There’s no way to catch up, so I’ll just post some photos that remind me of my wonderful visit:
My trip home was long but uneventful – when I finally made it through my front door, I was tired and sad the trip was over, and happy to be back home…..and excited to see this:
My friend Tammy sent me a birthday package – surprising and so sweet! When we had our little yarn crawl trip earlier this year, I mentioned my curiosity about Wollmeise (first, how to pronounce the name) and lo and behold, Tammy sent me a skein. I don’t know the name of the color, but it’s very dark navy and green and blue-black with shades of rust and dark gold here and there. I think it may have a shawl destiny – Haruni, maybe. Don’t know yet. And you know how some people just have a gift-giving gift? That little book is Nancy Drew’s Guide to Life, which tickles me to death. Tammy, you are so awesome. Here are some handy pointers from the book:
From the chapter “Dating: A Primer” – A young lady with some judo skills can take care of unwanted advances in short order. ~The Whispering Statue
From the chapter “The Delicate Art of Etiquette” – Any woman who asks to be introduced to your widowed father is bad news. ~The Mystery of Lilac Inn
From the chapter “Sleuthing 101″ – Being able to throw your voice can get your unskilled assistants out of tight jams. ~The Ringmaster’s Secret
From the chapter “On Being a Lady” – Determination and spunk can elicit admiration from many arenas, even from the criminal element. ~The Phantom of Pine Hill
From the chapter “Powers of Observation” – Strange mechanical noises can only mean one thing: a printing press is being used for nefarious purposes. ~The Clue of the Broken Locket
And finally, I got a lot done on the tweed lace ribbon scarf, on my long flights. Just a little more and I’ll be finished with it and can start the scarf for my other writing group friend:
Lots to do this week, and then my 52nd birthday on Saturday. And I leave for Phnom Penh in 16 days! This is a wonderful time of year. Even if I do miss my Katie….and Marnie….and Trey and Tom….and Will.
My kids were weird, it’s true. On parents’ night in kindergarten, you know how the teacher would post the kids’ things all over the walls, and you’d walk around looking for your kid’s stuff? One year, the kids filled out a list of their favorite things, one of which was food. I walked around, reading “my favorite food is pizza…” “…hamburgers…” “…macaroni and cheese…” “…artichokes..” The last one, that was always my kid.
They loved jug band music. My son cracked us up singing If You’re a Viper, by Jim Kweskin and the jug band. They loved Laurel and Hardy. LOVED ‘em.
So the totally impromptu dance that Marnie did with her dad at her wedding included a bit from Way Out West, one of their favorite Laurel and Hardy films. I’ll bet Marnie hasn’t seen that in years – maybe even since she was a kid.
And here’s the very short video – it’ll make you laugh. At least, it makes ME laugh. And get all misty-eyed, remembering my nutty little kids, parked in front of the TV falling over laughing at it.
The video is 2:01 in length, and they ‘commence to dancin’ at 33 seconds. I start my day with happiness in my heart.
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