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Welcome Home, Obie

Posted on August 28, 2024 by Steph

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Friday evening to Sunday morning: Wheeling

We arrived in Wheeling around seven, after a six-hour drive and let ourselves into Beth’s mom’s house. YaYa arrived shortly after we did, bearing takeout pizza. We ate and then Beth, North, and I went for a stroll in Wheeling Park. There was a festival going on, with live music, food stalls, multiple bouncy castles, and a clown. The band was playing covers of the Romantics and Dire Straits (and during their break a recording of Elton John). “We’re the demographic,” I told Beth, and she agreed. It was a pleasant night, not too humid and with a lovely sunset. We walked on paths through tall trees and around the swimming pool and the pond.

The next day we went out for lunch with YaYa at the garden bistro in Oglebay Park (where we just spent a week at the reunion). It’s on a terrace with a nice view of the hills of the park. We shared a cheese plate, and everyone got soup or a salad. (Mine was a tomato-burrata stew.) From there we went shopping for decorative items for North’s room at the artisans’ center. When we’d surveyed their room at home looking for knickknacks to take, they felt dissatisfied and said there was nothing they wanted to bring, except for a glass pumpkin they were afraid to break, and so left at home.

And then on the drive to Wheeling, a metal frog sculpture at a market spoke to them. They texted its picture to their roommate and between them they decided its name was Vert, but rather than pronouncing it like the French word, North is going to pronounce it to rhyme with Bert. At the artisan center, to complement Vert, North picked out a red glass candy dish. I said if they kept it filled, they’d become known as the kid with candy on offer in their room and this would make them popular.

When got back to YaYa’s house we had a little surprise going-away party for North. Beth’s aunt Carole, Carole’s son Sean, and her granddaughter Holly came over and we had red velvet cake and ice cream, and Sean told us stories about his college days including one about his journey to college, which involved Carole seeing a cow that seemed to be dead but wasn’t after she dropped Sean off at to catch his bus to school. We managed to surprise North, and they seemed pleased. Later that afternoon, we went swimming in the condo pool and Beth’s aunt Jenny dropped by the pool deck to chat and had a gift for North (and one to take home to Noah, too). We had Chinese that night and then North and YaYa watched Unfrosted.

Sunday morning to Monday afternoon: Oberlin

We left Wheeling early the next morning and drove to Oberlin, arriving around 10:30, and moved North into their room. North is living in Keep Cottage, a student-run housing and dining co-op where I lived for three semesters (my sophomore year and the second half of my senior year). It houses about fifty-five students and feeds about seventy-five.

North has a third-floor corner room with sloping ceilings, windows on two sides and deep closets. It’s right next door to the room where I lived my last semester of college. Keep was the place I lived longest at Oberlin and the building is just seeped in memory for me. After I helped carry their things up to their room, I peeled off to explore. I found my sophomore year room with the door propped open and no one inside, so of course I stepped in for a moment. I visited the second-floor bathroom I cleaned twice a week for a year and stood outside the door of my sophomore year boyfriend’s room. Then I walked by other friends’ rooms and wandered through the lounge and the kitchen. (The next day I tried to go down into the basement, but the door was locked.) Keep has changed very little. It was like stepping back into 1986. Even the smell was familiar.

North’s roommate Sarah and her parents arrived soon after we did, and the kids seemed to hit it off and began to sort out the room arrangement. I think I may have scandalized Sarah just a little when I told her that when I lived in Keep my roommate had an illicit cat whose litterbox was in one of those roomy closets.

Beth and I left North to unpack while we went to visit Noah Hall, where I lived my first year and Beth lived her first two years at Oberlin. Surely by now you all know we met there on my first day of college, when she was sophomore dorm staff and checked me into the building, and that we named Noah after this dorm. Every time we’ve visited Oberlin in recent years, Beth has wanted to get inside Noah, but the doors are always locked. We thought it would be open for move-in and it was, so we got to poke around there.

It was fun but not quite as satisfying as walking around Keep because there weren’t as many rooms and common spaces we could get into, but we did find our rooms and stood outside the doors. We both lived on the second floor the year we met and there used to be three lounges there. The carpet that depicted hunting scenes in the north and south lounges has been replaced with something more generic. The center lounge is gone, converted into two bedrooms, but a door to one of these was open, and we could see they left the pretty wooden paneling on the walls.

I mentioned that my high school boyfriend with whom I’d come to Oberlin broke up with me in that now departed center lounge. (It happened during orientation. Because I had the luck to start dating my wife at the tender age of twenty, it ended up being the worst break up of my life.) Beth knew about this of course, but not exactly where it happened. “Well, good riddance,” she said, even though it was a cozy lounge.

I learned later that Noah is a substance-free dorm now. In the eighties… well, let’s just say it wasn’t.

We met up with North and Sarah at Keep and walked to Tank Hall. It’s the only co-op open during orientation and all OSCA members are eating there until the rest of them open. I ate in Tank as a dining-only member the year I lived in Noah, so this was a familiar space as well. I popped into the kitchen, where I first learned to cook in an industrial kitchen. Lunch—rice, breaded baked tofu, sauteed cabbage and carrots, homemade pickles, and granola—was served buffet style. There was nutritional yeast in the breading, which I don’t mind but Beth and North don’t care for, and it caused me to reflect that my recipe for breaded tofu also has nutritional yeast (that I just don’t put in, subbing extra wheat germ) and I wondered if it could be the same recipe. (It’s from the Zen Monastery Cookbook.) Nutritional yeast aside, I wondered if the fact that I learned a lot of what I know about cooking in OSCA and that as a result its hippie-style of cuisine made it into a lot of the food North ate as a child will make the food at Keep seem homey.

Most of the students were eating on the lawn, but Beth and I ate on the porch, to give North some space and a chance to socialize without their parents hovering. The spacious, wraparound porch took me back, too. Many nights after dinner at Tank my first year I used to sit there and have long talks with the young man who would be my boyfriend the next year.

North and Sarah went off with other OSCA members after lunch. Among other things, North changed their voter registration from Maryland to Ohio. Beth and I went to the campus bookstore to look for Oberlin pencils only to discover they were sold out. I was disappointed because I already have a lot of Oberlin swag (a hoodie, two t-shirts, and a couple stickers on my laptop) but of all the Ithaca merch I bought when Noah started college, I found the pencils and the mug most comforting, because I used them in my daily routine. I did get a mug, even though we have a great quantity of mugs at home. Beth knew better than to say anything about that.

Next, we took a sentimental journey walking to and photographing every dorm, co-op, and apartment building where either of us ever lived (not all pictured here—I moved around a lot). The selfie is in front of the house where I was living the summer of 1987, when we started dating. Beth is standing in front of the apartment building where she lived her junior and senior year, plus the year after she graduated.

We hadn’t taken pictures at Noah (the big brick dorm) the first time we went so we returned. We noticed someone had painted “Noah Bench” on a bench outside it in fat purple letters, so I texted a picture of it to Noah and wrote, “They named a bench after you.”

The day was hot, and we’d walked a lot so we went to the student union to rest until it was time to meet North in Finney Chapel for the welcoming ceremony. They weren’t calling it a convocation, but that’s what it was. Various administrators spoke, the speeches interspersed with musical performances. The acoustics are good in there, so it would seem like a waste not to have music.

There was a picnic dinner afterward—we had barbequed tofu, corn on the cob, corn and bean salad, potato salad, cole slaw, and fruit salad. We had dessert plans, but there were cupcakes, so Beth and North each got one and gave me a sliver of each. We drove to the Dairy Twist, which is just outside town and got the second ceremonial end-of-summer-break ice cream. North got a root beer float, which has been their frozen treat of the summer. Beth got a cherry-dipped chocolate cone, and I got a mint-chocolate flurry. This establishment was another place we used to go. Because it was the eighties, and a lot of my friends were humanities majors we used to call it the Dairy-Da. (Get it? Derrida.)

From there we returned to Finney for a concert of performances by conservatory students and faculty. We could only stay for half of it—a mix of classical, jazz, and compositions by conservatory students. The highlight was probably watching a student play the enormous organ. It was impressive how he twisted around to use both hands and both feet at once.

North had a house meeting at eight-thirty, so we slipped out of the concert, said goodbye until the next day and drove to the house of Beth’s retired colleague Jeff and his wife Karen. They live outside Cleveland and graciously hosted us for the night. Jeff even made homemade almond croissants for us in the morning.

We returned to Oberlin the next day and met North back at Finney. They had two morning sessions, one on adapting to college life, which I attended with them while Beth took a walk, and a second one with their PAL group. These peer advising groups seems to have taken the place of impact groups, which were more loosely organized, dorm-based, group therapy-type sessions we had when I was in college. (Beth was my impact group leader.) While they were there, Beth and I attended a session about the transition to college for parents. We didn’t learn much as this isn’t our first rodeo, but we did learn that starting next year Thanksgiving break will be one day longer than the four-day weekend it is now, which was welcome news as the short break has already posed challenges for our travel plans this fall.

When we were all finished, we met up and wandered through the student activities fair, but we didn’t linger because North had a few places they wanted to go before lunch. We browsed in the campus bookstore where we bought them a sweatshirt, Ben Franklin where we got them a water bottle sticker and a candle, and Gibson’s Bakery where we bought some treats.

And then it was time to say goodbye. Parents were encouraged to be off campus by two. There was an event with cookies called Sweet Goodbyes to send parents off, but North had a crew shift at Tank right after lunch (learning how to clean a co-op kitchen) that conflicted with that, so we were leaving early. We dropped them off at Tank for lunch, stood on the lawn outside the car, and said our teary goodbyes.

Monday Afternoon to Wednesday: Oberlin, Takoma, and the Road in Between

We had a long drive ahead of us, so we just picked up some food at Sheetz for an a la carte lunch to eat in the car, but by dinnertime we had made pretty good time, so we stopped at a diner in western Maryland. It turned out that a grilled cheese sandwich (American on white bread) with fries was exactly the comfort food I needed after leaving my youngest child at college. We followed it up with ice cream, just to be safe.

North has been keeping busy. Monday after their crew shift, they had another PAL meeting, and they played cards and attended a tea party with some people in Keep. Tuesday, they met with their academic advisor, went to a meeting on campus safety, and there was a picnic dinner for new OSCA members. Today was a day of service and they participated in a beach cleanup at Lake Erie (where they met another kid named North!) and toured some museums in Cleveland. Classes start tomorrow. They have sociology, psychology, and a class about college life.

Back at home, we miss them, of course. I defrosted two quarts of soup they made earlier this month (lentil and black bean), and we had it for dinner Tuesday and Wednesday, which I found consoling. I washed their sheets on Tuesday and when I realized I couldn’t just toss the fitted sheet on the bed for them to put on the mattress themselves because they weren’t here to do it, it hit me hard. But despite these moments, we are glad for them. They came a long way to get where they are.

All day Sunday and Monday almost everyone who gave a speech said something along the lines of, “Welcome to Oberlin,” “Welcome Obies,” “Welcome home, Obies,” or assured any nervous first-year students in the audience “You belong here,” and each time both Beth and I felt a little jolt of emotion. It certainly feels like coming home to us and we trust that with time, it will be home and a place of belonging for North too.

This is what Beth wrote on Facebook:

Forty years ago I walked through the door of the Oberlin dorm on the left and into my future. Thirty-nine years ago Steph walked through the same door. I was living there a second year and checked her in.

Yesterday our youngest child walked through the door of the Oberlin dorm on the right. I know that their journey will be unique to them, but I hope they find what I found there: a bunch of brilliant, passionate oddballs who became beloved friends. And if they also find the love of their life, well, that would be OK too.

Welcome home, Obie. You’ve got this. You belong here.

Between Camp and College

Posted on August 24, 2024 by Steph

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North had eleven days at home between camp and college. It took them three days to do all their laundry from camp and I took advantage of having another person home to give them some more chores, like cleaning the bathroom, vacuuming, weeding and cooking dinner. And of course, there was list-making and packing, tending to pre-college administrative tasks, and chatting with their recently assigned roommate.

But there was plenty of time for other pursuits.

Caffeinated Outings

North and I went out for coffee or other beverages four out of the first five days they were home. We didn’t plan it that way, but on the first Monday they were home I needed to get yard waste bags from the hardware store, and I invited them to come with me and stop at Takoma Beverage Company and they did. We got coffee and split a chocolate-cherry scone. Then two days later I was going to the Langley Park farmers’ market in search of peaches, and I invited them to come with me and stop at Starbucks and they did.

The peaches we found at the market were hard and greenish. I was skeptical they’d ripen but we’d walked a mile or so to get them, so I bought them and hoped for the best. (Two days in a paper bag with a chunk of apple did the trick.) We got pupusas, too, and these were good as always. We ate them at a table in front of Starbucks, where we got refreshers and a cake pop. I arranged the peaches, pupusas, Paradise and Pink drinks, and the pop for a photo and posted it to Facebook with the caption that “Today’s outing was brought to you by the letter P.”

The next day, after North’s psychiatrist appointment, we stopped at Lost Sock for coffee and alfajor cookies (dulce de leche and coconut). While we were there I said since we’d been to three out of four of our habitual spots for mother-child coffee runs, we should be completists and go to Koma sometime before they left. They laughed and agreed. And then on Friday morning, when Valerie cancelled on them at the last minute, they texted me and asked if I could meet them there, so I did, and we got tea and a strawberry Danish.

Outings with Friends

Having been gone most of the summer, North had a lot of friends they wanted to see. The first Monday evening they were home they went to Ranvita’s birthday party, which was held at a Chinese restaurant. The next day a big group of friends went to the Montgomery County Fair and then swimming. They were gone most of the day. On Friday evening they went to a drive-in movie with El and saw a double feature (the newest Deadpool and Alien movies). They said neither movie was one they would have chosen to watch without the drive-in part of the experience, but they had fun. The following Monday, they spent most of the day at Miles and Maddie’s house. The twins brought North home as I was cooking dinner and came inside to see the kittens and exclaim about how big they’ve gotten. (The kittens have each tripled in size since we got them three months ago.)

Medical Appointments

North had several routine visits with healthcare providers, but the most notable one was with the neurologist who manages their migraine care. What was notable was that it was the first time in the almost two years they’ve been seeing him that he didn’t need to brainstorm about new medications or treatments because the new preventative they’ve been on since mid-May is working remarkably well. It’s a once-monthly injection they give themselves and the first couple weeks it didn’t seem to be helping much. Luckily, the doctor warned us it might take up to three months to show results. In June they had thirteen migraines (down from an average of twenty or more) and in July it was ten. When we had the meeting, almost halfway through August, North had only had four. (They’re up to eight now for the month.)

And because they have effective rescue medicine that can be used twice a week, plus another semi-effective one that can be used five times a month, this means they hardly ever need to go to bed with a headache or power through one anymore. The doctor also mentioned that for people for whom this medication works, it often keeps getting more effective with time. I can’t tell you how happy we all are about this turn of events. Beth commented how easy it’s been to get used to being able to make evening plans without considering how many meds North has already used this week. We can just assume now either they won’t get a headache or if they do, there will be enough meds. It is downright liberating.

Montgomery County Fair

We took advantage of this freedom to go to the Montgomery County Fair late Saturday afternoon instead of earlier in the day, which is a more migraine-friendly time for North. We all, but especially Beth, like to ride the Ferris wheel after dark, but between the kids’ bedtimes when they were younger and not wanting to risk a late afternoon migraine, many years we couldn’t stay that late. There was another potential problem, though. Rain was forecast on and off all day. It had not rained yet when we left, but the sky was threatening.

We arrived a little before five and walked around the rides to see how many tickets we’d need to ride our favorites. Then we loaded up a card with the requisite number plus a little extra and the kids and I got in line for the swings, which then closed with no explanation. As we walked to other rides and they closed one by one, we gathered it was because it was about to rain. And rain it did, a real gully washer.

I was afraid we’d just wasted a lot of money on non-refundable ride tickets on the last night of the fair, but determined to make the best of it, we headed for the animal barns. This was something that North’s friends hadn’t done when they went earlier in the week, and they do like to see the animals. Even with an umbrella, I got kind of wet on the way there and to top it off I slipped and fell into a puddle at the entrance to the rabbit barn and got the whole back of my pants soaking wet.

Everyone else at the fair had the same idea about what to do in the rain so the animal barns were crowded, but we there was enough room to walk around and see the goats and sheep and rabbits and poultry and oxen, plus a llama and an alpaca. North’s favorite is the rabbit barn, so we stayed there the longest. There were a bunch of white rabbits there with black rings around their eyes. They looked as if they were wearing eyeliner. According to the sign, this kind of rabbit has been bred since the nineteenth century, starting in France. North and I got to pet one. It was very soft.

The rain was letting up, so we got some food while we waited for the rides to dry out. North said “the interesting food” is at the end of the midway, which their friends had not visited. Between us we got pupusas, a spinach crepe, and cheese and grapes from the dairy shed. Dessert round one consisted root beer floats, ice cream, and a red velvet funnel cake, which we threw out after eating only half of it because no one liked it enough to make it their primary dessert.

While we were eating, I’d seen a woman walking on stilts and blowing bubbles and that reminded me of the Halloween parade because there is always someone on stilts there and we talked about how North might enter this year because they will be home for fall break and how I may someday volunteer to serve as a judge.

There was an announcement that the rides were open, so the kids and I rode the swings, and then North did the Genesis, a ride with a long row of seats that goes up and down and side to side. All the lines were long because it was a Saturday night and the last night of the fair and everyone had to take a break at the same time because of the rain. Beth got in line for the Ferris wheel while Noah and I were watching North ride the Genesis. I was also watching the changing colors of the lights on the Ferris wheel, which were lovely in the gathering darkness.

When we joined Beth in line, I told her that being at the carnival rides put the lines from John Prine’s “When I Get to Heaven” in my head: “I’m gonna kiss that pretty girl on the tilt-a-whirl” and she kissed me before I could finish the lyric. The fair sometimes reminds us of going to the Lorain County Fair in Ohio when we were in college and puts us in a nostalgic mood. When we got up in the air, we could see the whole fair lit up, which is always fun.

My last ride, with both kids, was the Mousetrap, a very strange little ride. It’s a tiny roller coaster inside a building that’s almost completely dark. The painting on the outside depicts mice pursued by cats, so I guess you are supposed to be a mouse darting this way and that in the dark.

By this point, we’d finished all our must-dos, but we had some tickets left, so North rode the Sizzler, one of those innocent-looking little carnival rides with clusters of cars that spin in one direction while the whole ride is going in another direction. I got quite sick on one of those as a teenager (like throwing up sick), so I contented myself with watching and singing along with Beth to the music playing—“Summer Nights” from Grease. Beth said I could call the blog post “Summer Loving,” but I explained it was about more than the fair. Noah went off in search of fried Oreos for dessert round two (North got a pretzel).

As we left the fair, we saw a big ad for Corktoberfest on the side of a trailer. We see it every year and every year North says they read it as Cocktoberfest, which would probably be another kind of event altogether. Then everyone said I should call this blog post Cocktoberfest, even though we did not attend the wine festival, which as you may have guessed does not even happen until October. We did see roosters, someone pointed out, quite innocently. What can I say? We were tired and happy and a little punchy from our night at the fair, which could have been a disaster, but wasn’t.

Creek Walk

The next morning the kids and I went wading in the creek. We do this almost every summer, generally near the end. The most common route is to start with a trip to Starbucks and then enter the creek near the Jackson Avenue bridge and that’s what we did. We walked through the creek to the Carroll Avenue bridge, opting not to continue all the way to the playground, because we all had afternoon plans and time was running short.

We found the spine of an animal in the water and couldn’t determine was it was—too big for a squirrel or rabbit, too small for a deer (unless it was partial), maybe a fox? It will remain a mystery.

It was pleasant to walk in the cool water with sunlight filtering through green leaves all around us, even if the morning was not that hot, and even if the walk was on the short side. No one fell and got hurt. No one was stung by bees. This activity is not without peril, but we keep doing it anyway.

Cobbler

That afternoon North and I made a peach-blackberry cobbler with the blackberries we picked and froze last month. They made the filling, I made the dough, and then they rolled it out to cover the fruit. There are four fruit-based desserts I make every summer. It starts with strawberry shortcake on Memorial Day, progressing through sour cherry sauce for ice cream on the Fourth of July, blueberry kuchen whenever we pick blueberries, and then this one, usually toward the end of the summer. Making it on the same day we took a creek walk really did make it seem like summer was truly almost over. And it was Beth’s last night cooking before North left, so she made one of her classic summer dinners—barbequed tofu, corn on the cob, and fried okra.

DNC

The following night we watched the first night of the DNC for two reasons. The president of Beth’s union was speaking briefly and there was going to be a 90-second video Noah helped edit at work. The CWA president spoke with a group of other union officials a little after eight and Beth texted him to say he did a good job. By this point, we’d been waiting for more than an hour and a half for the ad, with everyone running out the room every now and then for snacks and bathroom breaks. The video was originally supposed to be the first thing played in the program, but the order of events got switched around and Noah didn’t know when it was going to play, just that it wasn’t first anymore.

By nine, North was thinking of bailing and taking a shower so I ducked into the bathroom to start get ready for bed so I wouldn’t need to wait a half hour to get in there if the ad came on soon. Sure enough, I was washing my face when I heard shouting from the living room and I ran in, face sudsy, washcloth in hand, to watch this. Turns out it was the walk-in video for Kamala’s cameo.

Beth, North, and I were all in bed by ten, but Noah stayed up to watch more of the convention and the next morning he told us there was another ad about abortion he’d worked on that he didn’t realize was going to play. Here it is.

Television and Ice Cream (and More Coffee)

And then the eleven days came to an end. On Tuesday we finished the second season of Grownish as a family. The next day, North and Noah watched a couple episodes of Good Omens because he had the day off, and North and I got to the midpoint of the third season of Emily in Paris, which was our goal since finishing the season wasn’t in the cards.

On Wednesday, two nights before we left for Oberlin, I made breaded tofu sticks because they are a family favorite. North requested applesauce to go with them, so I made blackberry-applesauce with our stash of frozen berries from the berry farm and served it with carrot sticks and slices of garden cucumber.

Thursday morning North wanted to go to Starbucks yet again because it was the first day the fall menu items were available, and they wanted a pumpkin-cream cheese muffin and some kind of apple-flavored coffee. I prefer to wait until it’s autumn, or at least September, for these kinds of treats, so I got a plain latte and a croissant.

Speaking of treats, we have a long-standing tradition of ice cream (or frozen yogurt) on the last night of summer break. About a week before we left, North and discussed the question of whether it should be the night before we began the journey or the night before we parted ways in Oberlin. The first would include Noah; the second was closer to the first day of school. Finally, I said, “Why not both?” and that’s what we decided to do. (Before that even happened, though, we went to Sweet Frog the first Thursday North was home because they were having an as-much-yogurt-as-you-can-fit-in-a-cup sale for six dollars, but it turned out you needed to give the cashier a code, which we neglected to do. Live and learn.)

The following Thursday, North’s last night at home, we met up with Noah (who came straight from work) at Mount Dessert Island Ice Cream in Mount Pleasant. Remember how we were working our way through Post’s list of best places to get ice cream in the D.C. metro area earlier this summer? Well, we hadn’t been to one since the end of June, but North suggested we do one last one. We’d been to the top three, so we picked this one because it was number four.

We found a parking space right nearby, which was a stroke of luck in that neighborhood. (A side note: Beth and I lived in a group house in Mount Pleasant for three months during the summer of 1991 when we first arrived in D.C.) The store is very small, located on the first floor of a rowhouse, with benches out front. Beth got white Russian, North got a float with blueberry soda, Noah got something with chocolate chips and caramel, and I got fig. Have you ever had fig ice cream? It was excellent, tasting of the fruit and brown sugar all the way through. It wasn’t just vanilla with fig chunks. I highly recommend it if you’re local.

The next afternoon after a morning of work and packing and whatnot, Beth, North, and I hit the road for Oberlin, via Wheeling. More about that trip in the next installment…

Reunited

Posted on August 13, 2024 by Steph

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First Saturday

En route to her family reunion, Beth and I had a picnic lunch and then a short walk at the Sideling Hill Road Cut, or as we’ve called it since the kid were small, “the stripey rocks.” There was a mountain view from our picnic table, and when we sat down to eat, Beth sighed and said, “I like mountains.” She likes them like I like the beach.

We pulled into Beth’s mom’s condo driveway around five on Saturday and from there proceeded to the cabin in Oglebay park where the reunion was taking place. Cabin isn’t quite the right word, as it was more like a small hotel, with two stories, eight bedrooms, and ample common space, both upstairs and downstairs. The upstairs was quite airy with a soaring ceiling in the main area. We knew what to expect because we stayed in the same cabin at the last reunion. In addition to the people staying in the cabin, there were people staying at the park lodge, and people staying with in-town relatives. It was a big and ever-shifting crowd.

This was the fourth reunion Beth’s mom’s family has had since 2002, when we brought our toddler son to one in a smaller cabin. There was a second one in 2012 and then a third one in 2016. It’s interesting to see how the family has gone through cycles since the first one. Noah was the youngest person in attendance at the first one and there were a bunch of kids older than him. Then at the middle two, our kids were almost the only kids (except a seventeen-year-old boy at the second one, which barely seemed to count to us at the time as our kids were so much younger, and a couple babies at the third one). But at this reunion there were about a half dozen kids who have been born since 2016 and three pregnant women, so the family is clearly in a growth phase, most of which is occurring in Beth’s aunt Carole’s branch.

The attendees were mainly descendants of Beth’s maternal grandparents—Beth’s mom, her three aunts (Carole, Susan, and Jenny) and their kids, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. It was startling to realize that of the four generations present, Beth and I are in the second oldest generation, the one in which many people are grandparents.

When we arrived, a couple people were constructing an easel to display the family tree that Jenny made and there was also a calendar of events and a list of who would be attending dinner each of the first several nights. (The next day Carole’s granddaughter Holly set up a posterboard display of photos from previous reunions.) That night we had pizza and talked to many, many people, some of whose names I learned (or re-learned) and some I never learned. A lot of people asked after Noah and North and we reported on their jobs and North’s college plans.

Many of the people at the reunion were Irish. Carole and husband raised their kids partly in Ireland and most of her kids, grandkids, and great grandkids still live there. The Irish parents were speaking to their kids in English and Irish and Marjorie (who’s Chilean and married to Carole’s grandson Eanna) spoke to her son Santino in English and Spanish.

After dinner, Beth and I took a short walk through the park because I hadn’t walked much during the day and then we had dessert. I had a slice of the blackberry pie we’d bought at a farm market on the drive—the group made short work of it—and Beth had ice cream.

We retreated to our downstairs bedroom a little after nine-thirty. We are early-to-bed people, and we were tired from staying up past our bedtime all week to watch the Olympics and from the drive. I slept all the way through the night without waking, which is quite unusual for me, as I’m a light sleeper. The room was dark and quiet, even with so many people upstairs.

First Sunday

In the morning people went their separate ways. Carole’s grandson Michael went for a run as he did most mornings, Beth and I each took walks, and many people headed to the pool at various times. There were some grocery runs and an expedition to get corn and tomatoes from a farm. I worked on my last blog post and this one, too. After her walk, Beth showed me photos of the morning mist and some cool spider webs she’d seen. She was animated and very happy to be in Oglebay.

My glucose monitor expired on Sunday morning and I’d forgotten to bring a new one. (I realized this about an hour into the drive.) It ended up taking several days to get an early refill approved and what with all the treats in the house, my self-control was not always what it should have been, but you know, vacation. To complicate matters, my Fitbit broke a few weeks ago, while we were at the beach, so while I was still taking a walk every day and trying to remember to get up and move every hour, I did often forget.

In the afternoon, I worked a little. I hardly ever work on vacation, but I have a big set of medical abstracts about probiotics and prebiotics to rewrite into plain English. The project is due in a few weeks, and I wanted to chip away at it. (I ended up working four days, never more than an hour.) Meanwhile, Beth’s aunt Jenny set up a station with white baseball caps and fabric pens for people to use to decorate them. People were doing this throughout the day and evening.

We celebrated Carole’s eighty-seventh birthday that night. It was the biggest gathering of the reunion, with perhaps fifty people. There was Italian takeout and birthday cake and Carol’s grandsons Tristan and Eanna played “Happy Birthday” and then “We Are Family,” on the piano while people sang. This was an appropriate choice with the lyrics “I have all my sisters and me” because Carole’s three sisters were all there. Sean gave a sweet speech he often gives at his mother’s birthday celebrations about how though the family moved around a lot during his childhood (to places as diverse as New York, Montana, and Ireland) that she always made wherever they lived feel like home because “home is where the love is.”

Afterward Carole exclaimed “I couldn’t be luckier” to have so many people she loved gathered in one place.

Sean then gave a half-hour presentation on family genealogy. He started with photos of the four sisters in high school in the 1950s and 60s and then dove into the past—nineteenth-century German immigrants who opened a store in Wheeling, seventeenth-century New England Puritans, and soldiers who fought in wars from the Norman Invasion, through American Revolution and Civil War (on both sides of the latter). The family can trace its ancestry directly to Edward the III and is distantly related to Audrey Hepburn, Charles Darwin, James Taylor, Jane Austen, and Meghan Markle. Sean then distributed bound copies of his research to all four sisters and one of their cousins, who has a particular interest in genealogy.

Monday

I didn’t sleep all the way through the night again, but I did sleep until 7:45, which is quite late for me. Beth did me one better and slept until 8:15. We learned soon after waking that Jenny had tested positive for covid. That was sad because she’d have to stay at home for the rest of the reunion (she lives in town) and she really likes organizing activities. She’d had a tie-dye event planned for the kids. (She sent the materials later in the week and it went on without her.)

That morning Beth and I were both struggling with balky internet (she to work, me also to work and to edit and post my last blog post to Facebook). While we were doing this there was a group yoga session on the upper deck—I was on the lower deck and could hear mysterious thumps as people moved the furniture around—and a bunch of people left for the pool.

Beth and I finished what we needed to do and went for a hike in the woods. The trail was sometimes gravel and sometimes dirt and went along a creek. We had to ford the creek a couple times—no problem as it was low—and cross little bridges or step from tree stump to tree stump that had been set into a path in a marshy area. We saw a couple small waterfalls plus the innards and one leg of a dead deer, so picked apart by vultures (perched nearby) that it took me a few seconds to realize it was a deer. That’s part of nature, too, I guess.

After lunch Beth and I went to the pool, encountering three different groups of people from our party on their way back to the cabin on the path between the cabins and the pool. Beth loves the pool at Oglebay. It’s a large rectangular pool with pretty stone building behind it. It was built by the CCC in that architectural style so common in American municipal and state parks. We talked about what an act of optimism that was in the Depression, imagining people would have the space for leisure in their lives. It’s a real gift from the past.

Beth’s mom worked at the pool snack bar as a teenager, so there’s family history there, too. We soaked in the pool for a while and I tried to swim laps, which involved dodging people left and right because there’s no lap lane. I did about a dozen laps the short way across the pool. It was nice to stretch my muscles and feel the sun on my back, but I gave up it up as too hazardous. Then we lay on towels in the sun to dry off and I read a little.

When we came back, Ailble, Michael’s middle daughter, who’s five, gave Beth a long, complicated update about the Grinch, who had apparently been skulking about the cabin and trying to steal things. The upshot was that she and some of the other kids had put a spell on him, which resulted in him returning a hat he had stolen from her. As she was talking, she saw a doe, got excited and confessed to us that “I have a crush on the deer.” She claimed to have kissed one and then she approached the passing deer, edging closer and closer. Eventually the deer loped away. Deer are everywhere in the park and very tame. Probably too tame for their own good, as the park last fall organized a bow-and-arrow hunt to cull their numbers.

Before she’d finished everything she wanted to say, Ailble had to leave because she was in a group of people who were going paddle-boating. Beth and I helped her mom and Carole’s late husband’s sister Pat shuck corn for that night’s cookout on the upper deck.

There was a huge spread for the barbeque—burgers, salmon, hot dogs, veggie hot dogs, and haloumi—plus many sides. Michael manned the grill and people ate both inside and out on the deck. After dinner there was a sing-along and dance performance. Michael’s wife Orla and their two oldest daughters Aishling and Ailble all took turns demonstrating step dancing, while their youngest daughter Eadadoin and another toddler girl (Fia, Tristan’s daughter) joined in, both clearly understanding this activity involved a lot of kicking.

The singing kicked off with “Country Roads,” because so many people had traveled such a long distance back to their ancestral home of West Virginia. Fia had a look of comic surprise on her face when everyone around her burst into song, but she quickly got used to it.

Over the course of the evening Sean and his sons Eanna and Tristan played the piano, clarinet, guitar, and a small Chilean stringed instrument to accompany the singing, and Carole’s grandchildren Kawika and Holly both sang solos. The singing went on for hours. The songs were mostly in English, but there was an Edith Piaf song in French and another in Irish. One of my favorite moments happened right after we finished “Sweet Caroline” because Fia kept on singing the “Oh oh oh” part. When it was my turn to make a request, I suggested Joni Mitchell’s “Chelsea Morning,” but the musicians asked for another choice, so I chose “Big Yellow Taxi,” which is more sing-along-friendly. I decided to go to bed once we’d all sung “Hallelujah,” because it seemed like a good closer, at least for my part in the event.

Tuesday

The next morning, we found out another member of our party had covid. This time it was Gina, who’s the sister of Aine, Sean’s ex-wife. Gina had traveled from Ireland and couldn’t go home, so a couple people who were staying at the cabin decamped for Carole’s house so bedrooms could be re-arranged to allow Gina her own room where she would isolate. I did wonder at this point if a sing-along in a group of covid-exposed people had been the best idea, even in a spacious, high-ceilinged room, but what was done was done. From then on, I started spending a lot of time outside or in our room. I didn’t avoid other people completely—after all, seeing people is the point of a reunion—but I did try to avoid large groups inside and ate most of my meals outside.

In the morning, while people were leaving for the pool, Beth and I went to her mom’s house for the internet, and during the hour and a half we were there, her mom popped over to Carole’s house (two doors down) and Susan, Susan’s son Scott, and Carole’s daughter Meg all came by. It was like a mini reunion there.

In the afternoon, Beth went back to the pool, and I took a walk around the pond and the gardens behind the nature center and saw people paddle-boating, a lot of ducks, a pollinator garden, and metal sculptures of bugs and animals.

Dinner that night was an Indian feast, cooked by Sean. It’s his signature meal—several curries (most vegetarian), dal, naan, and apricot chutney, delicious as always. He’d been in the kitchen for several hours making it. A large group had gone mini golfing and didn’t get back until 7:40, so we ate on the late side. While we were eating, Ailble informed us she’d been nuzzled by a deer, and she thought she might be the first person ever in the whole world to have this experience and she also thought there should be a celebration to mark this event. Fortunately, there was birthday cake for her grandmother Aine after dinner and after everyone had sung “Happy Birthday” and she’d blown out the candles two cupcakes were presented to Ailble with their own candles to blow out, so I guess that was her celebration.

Beth and I went for an after-dinner walk. We left around nine and there were still streaks of pink in the sky. Wheeling is west of Takoma Park and the sun sets later there. A cold front had come through, though without the expected rain, and it was nice weather for walking.

Wednesday

There were no new covid cases.

This was the designated day for excursions to Pittsburgh and its environs. There was a group that went to a children’s museum in the city, a group that went to Kennywood amusement park, and a group that went to see an evening Pirates game. I think Holly was the only one to go on two of the excursions (the park and the game). Orla stayed behind and had her first child-free day in eight years (!). She spent it walking, swimming, and reading and she said it was lovely. Beth and I went to Kennywood.

This wasn’t the main amusement park of Beth’s youth (that would be Cedar Point) and we never took the kids there, opting for Idlewild when they were small and we were in Wheeling, so I’d never been. It’s a medium-sized park, but when we got there, we realized it lacks some of the attractions Beth likes best—like a Ferris wheel, a mine ride, or an internal waterpark. (There’s one outside the park, but it’s a separate ticket.) We had lunch and rode the carousel together, and then she started waiting for me outside rides. I rode two small wooden coasters (the Jack Rabbit and the Racer), both of which dated back to the 1920s. The Jack Rabbit was scarier than I thought it would be, given the size, but that might be because I was alone in a seat for two without a divider and I felt like I was sliding around in the seat. The Racer has dividers. I was pleased to see so many small wooden coasters—there was at least one more I didn’t ride—because wooden coasters are my favorite and as I get older, I’m not as keen to ride the big ones. I always have to psych myself up to ride the even smallest ones at Cedar Point and Hershey Park, which are about twice the size of these.

Speaking of Hershey Park I was wearing a t-shirt I got years ago at Hershey Park that says, “I Survived the Sooper Dooper Loooper” and for the first time ever a stranger commented on it, saying, “I survived the sooper dooper looper, too!” Later while we were having ice cream, I saw a small boy at the counter wearing a shirt with the same slogan. When I bought it, my kids insisted that in adult sizes it’s ironic, but it is not for me. It identifies me as someone who likes roller coasters, but only smallish, usually older, ones. That’s my sweet spot.

I rode the swings, taking my shoes off so I could feel the wind on my bare feet, and I was sizing up the flume ride, trying to decide if it was small enough for me when we finally met up with the group that had come in the other car—Meg, her daughter Holly, Sean’s daughter Rebecca, and Aisling. They recommended the raft ride as something that might be tame enough for Beth and we headed that way. It was a good ride for her. You get into a six-person boat, and it floats down a river with some gentle rapids. It wasn’t too scary, and we all got wet.

After the rafts, four of us (everyone but Rebecca and Beth) braved the haunted house. Rebecca bought us cheese fries to eat in line because the others hadn’t had lunch yet. We thought we’d have to throw them out at the entrance but to our surprise, none of the staff said anything, so we kept them for the first part of the house.

The haunted house is mostly the kind where you ride in a car, but you start by walking into a room where a ghost on a screen informs you he is the spirit of the original owner of the house and everyone else who has lived there has remained as a ghost and he wants them evicted and then asks you to shoot them with laser guns provided in the buggies. It was a competition within each car and the ghost said each winner will be invited to stay in the house with him forever. Aisling said she wasn’t even going to try because she didn’t want to be stuck in the house. She did end up shooting, though. Holly won the competition in our car, with Meg a close second, and me a distant third, with Aisling not far behind me. I think Aisling might have had the right idea at first, though, because it was hard to appreciate the decorations while looking for green lights to hit.

By the time we finished, it was past five and we had a long drive home, so Beth and I left and drove back to a buffet of leftovers someone had set out, and a leisurely dinner on the upper deck, chatting with Sean, Carole, and Beth’s mom, and listening to the cicadas.

After dinner I showered and put on a new sensor, which we’d just picked up at CVS on the way home, after several days of wrangling with medical bureaucracy to get one. I was mostly happy to have it, because I’d wondered about my blood sugar a lot during the past few days, but it can also be nice to have a break from knowing, especially on vacation. I’m pretty sure ice cream followed by cheese fries would have produced a number I didn’t want to see.

Thursday

This was a laid-back day, at least for me. (Beth cooked for a crowd and had some work drama.) Some of the kids went on an expedition to the climbing wall with Carole and their parents and got their faces painted at a Family Day picnic a local retirement home was having in the park. (Orla said they crashed the party, but Carole knows some people who live there who invited them to join the fun.)

I took a walk past the lake to the park mansion, trying to find gardens I remembered there from previous years, but there was construction, and I didn’t end up finding much planted. On the way back, I stopped at the lodge to work, thinking the internet might be better there, and it was. When I got back to the house, I had lunch and helped Beth pick cilantro leaves off the stem for the cilantro-garlic sauce she was making for dinner.

In the afternoon, while most people were at the pool, I started A Haunting on the Hill, which I’ve had in my to-read pile for a long time (since Christmas maybe?) and put a good dent in it. I haven’t read for such a long stretch in ages, so that was satisfying.

Beth served her signature dinner for big gatherings—gazpacho and salt-crusted new potatoes with cilantro-garlic sauce, served with a cheese plate, baguettes and olives—to an appreciative crowd. Later that evening, Beth’s high school friend Michelle dropped by the cabin while most people were out on an ill-fated stargazing outing (it was cloudy and the park cancelled the event, so they salvaged the expedition by taking a walk instead), and we had a visit with her. As I was falling asleep, I noticed my throat was sore, but I was too sleepy to get up and take a covid test.

Friday

I took a test on waking—negative. I went for a walk that took me by the tennis courts where Beth worked as a teenager, without even knowing I’d find them. Around ten-thirty we set off for Pittsburgh, where we were having a lunch-and-movie date. The movie theater was in Squirrel Hill and there was an abundance of interesting restaurants nearby. We chose a tea house where we got mezze—humus, tzatziki, baba ghanoush, raw vegetables, and pita with cookies (chocolate chip for Beth and ginger-fig for me). I also got a chilled ruby tea. After lunch we had some time to kill so we walked on mix of residential and commercial streets through the neighborhood, which seems vibrant and funky.

The move was Didi, which I recommend if you like coming-of-age stories and you can stand to watch a boy in his early teens make bad decision after bad decision that make you want to reach through the screen and hug him or try to talk some sense into him.

We got back to the cabin and headed to the pool for a quick, last swim. We ran into Michael and Orla and their girls there and learned that Marjorie was the latest of us to fall ill with covid. I was mentally crossing my fingers that we could escape infection in day and a half we had left in Wheeling.

Second Saturday

On checkout day, I took one last walk in the park on a path through the golf course and around the swimming pool, where I saw women doing yoga on floating surfboards. I walked around an old, abandoned frame house near the pool and found a big patch of mint growing behind it and picked a leaf to chew.

We vacated the cabin and regrouped at Carole’s house before people went their separate ways. One group was driving to D.C. in a rented van for a few days of tourism. Another group was staying with Carole in Wheeling for a few days. And we were headed for the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia just outside North’s camp, where we’d pick them up Sunday morning.

We made a pit stop at Blackwater Falls, where we walked down to the wooden stairway to the base of the falls. It felt strange to be there in the summer, as it’s almost always winter when we go, but the falls are beautiful any time of year and it is easier to descend the stairs when they are not covered in ice and snow. From there we got ice cream at the snack bar (usually closed when we’re there) and drove to the canyon overlook. There was a wedding taking place in the field by the overlook and Beth was so charmed by this idea she said she wanted to have a fiftieth anniversary party there in thirteen years. Mark your calendars.

It was almost eight when we got to our AirBnB, which was an apartment in a large Italianate house. There were balconies, a portico, a reproduction of the Venus de Milo, a pool, and deck on the roof of the portico outside our apartment with a view of the mountains. This was an excellent place to watch the sun set and later the stars, including the Big Dipper, shining brighter in the sky than at home.

In between the sunset and the stargazing, we sat with our feet in the pool, watching the crescent moon rise through tree branches and bats swoop over the pool, listening to the cicadas, and smelling the bank of lavender growing behind us. It was quite the romantic place to relax after a longish drive.

Second Sunday

At ten-thirty we arrived at North’s camp and collected them and a fellow counselor who lives in Takoma and packed both kids’ belongings into our car. Rose is the oldest child of Mike, the filmmaker who’s been a mentor to Noah, and Sarah, who used to be the Secretary-Treasurer of Beth’s union.

On excursions to town all summer North had been seeing signs for local attractions they wanted to visit so we hit up a couple of them on the way home. Our first stop was Natural Chimneys Regional Park. It’s just what it sounds like, giant limestone formations that look like chimneys, or (even more so in my opinion) the ruins of a castle. We admired them and then wandered down to the North River, which was full of water again after being dry for much of the summer.

North wanted to have lunch at a restaurant in Harrisonburg that specializes in grilled cheese, but it turned out it was closed on Sundays, so we headed straight to Luray Caverns and had (probably inferior) grilled cheese and soup at their snack bar before descending into the cave for a self-guided tour.

I don’t think we’ve taken North to a cave since they were ten and this was a nice one, with winding paths and majestic formations in a ten-story room and a pool that reflects the stalactites on the ceiling so they are doubled. North said they were tempted to touch the formations. Of course they didn’t, but we did see people disregarding that particular rule because people are idiots.

We listened to a couple of episodes of the Handsome podcast in the car and a couple hours after leaving the caverns we stopped for frozen custard. It was a fun ride home and it was nice to have Rose along for company.

We got home around five and were reunited with Noah and the kittens. I swear Walter grew perceptibly in the nine days we were gone. (The size gap between the two keeps increasing. North says at almost five months, she still looks like a kitten, but he looks like a half-grown cat.) In our absence they both learned how to get up onto Noah’s loft bed, which was a great triumph.

We now have twice the zinnias we had when we left and new blooms on the sunflowers, some of which are now taller than me. Plus, there were two cucumbers big enough to pick and about cup of cherry tomatoes and all the herbs are doing well. So, I think we can safely say Noah succeeded in his primary and secondary goals of keeping the cats and the garden alive.

It will be less than two weeks before we hit the road again, and that time we’ll be leaving our youngest at college, where with luck they will grow and thrive, too.

Update, 8/15: On Wednesday, four days after we got home, we learned that Carole and Santino both had covid, bringing the total to five attendees of the reunion.

Interlude

Posted on August 4, 2024 by Steph

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We had a two-week interlude between our trip to the beach and the next trip, to Wheeling for a family reunion, where we are now.

The last weekend in July, a week after we got back from the beach, North came home from camp on Friday evening and stayed until Sunday morning, as per usual. Saturday was a busy day. North and El had breakfast in the city and then El came over and they watched a movie. After lunch, Beth, North and I went berry picking. Noah opted to stay home and participate in an online gaming event.

We intended to get blueberries, blackberries, and raspberries, but though all these berries were listed as available on the website and again when we checked in at the farm entrance, once we’d picked blackberries, we learned the blueberry fields were closed. I don’t know if they ran out while we were picking blackberries or if the staff at the gate didn’t have up-to-date information. We knew we were cutting it close, as blueberry season, which used to last until August when the kids were small, seems to end in late July now, if it lasts that long. I’m guessing it’s climate change.

But it might have been just as well there were only two kinds of berries to pick because we were kind of rushed for time. On arrival, we visited the snack bar and got a blueberry hand pie with ice cream to share and then we picked two quarts of blackberries and two pints of raspberries. In the blackberries, North and I were sharing a container, so we stuck together, and they told me amusing stories from camp. The berries were kind of sparse and we sometimes wished we had Noah with us to reach the high ones. I told North I was getting my stretching in for the day. It was easier picking in the raspberry field, and we were in and out of there quickly. We dashed into the farm market afterward and got blueberry jam, cheese, pretzels, a slice of blueberry cake for me, and a mixed berry slushy for North.

The reason we were on a schedule was because Beth was going on an evening kayak tour of the monuments on the Potomac, and she had to get there by six, which meant getting home by four-thirty. She said it was a lot of fun and she got some beautiful pictures. While she was gone, Noah and I made a soba noodle salad with shiitake, tofu, and broccoli, which North praised with unusual enthusiasm. I think they were getting tired of the food at camp after six weeks of eating it. After dinner, we watched Teen Beach Movie. They showed it at camp and North had to miss it to stay with a kid who was afraid to watch it (if you’ve seen it, you will find this as puzzling as we did—it’s a rated G Disney movie aimed at tweens). North had FOMO about it, so we indulged them.

The next morning, we said goodbye to North again until the following Friday. I had a nice, low-key summer Sunday. I took my daily walk in weather that was hot but not miserably humid, read, and napped. Beth made gumbo for dinner and then we watched the Olympics.

Another work week rolled by. Beth and I continued to watch swimming and diving and gymnastics every night through Thursday, and the kittens often watched with us, sitting on the coffee table in front of the television. When the U.S. women’s gymnastics team won gold and were all high fiving each other, Willow jumped up and put her paw on the tv screen right over their hands, then she chased the flag they were carrying around.

It only took us five days to eat up all the raspberries and half the blackberries (the other half I’d frozen for future baking plans). Not satisfied with our higher-than-average berry consumption, I made a blueberry kuchen with grocery store blueberries on Wednesday, freezing a quarter of that for North, who came home again on Friday evening.

That night, we watched a little track and field and talked about camp. North always needs to vent a little when they get home. They always enjoyed sleep-away camp as a camper, both at Scout camp and elsewhere, so they’ve been surprised at how many kids are homesick or don’t want to be there for other reasons. Those kids are a small minority, but they take up a lot of the counselors’ time and North had one in their group who’d been a handful. They did say all the others were “angel children.” Then they took a shower—something they sometimes only manage once in a week at camp because they are so busy—and emerged from the bathroom, exclaiming, “I feel so clean!”

Saturday morning Beth and I left a little after ten a.m. for our next adventure, leaving North to do laundry, play with the kittens, write goodbye notes to be distributed to other camp staff members at the end of the last week of camp, attend a belated graduation party for El Saturday night, and then to take a Lyft to the camp bus stop Sunday morning. I’d drawn up a page-long to-do list for Noah, divided into categories such as “Kitten maintenance: #1 priority—Don’t let the cats die” and “Garden Maintenance: #2 priority—Don’t let the garden die.”

It seemed very strange to drive away, leaving the kids and the kittens behind. It wasn’t a couple’s trip—we’d be in a group of several dozen people– but we haven’t taken a trip longer than a weekend getaway without the kids since before Noah was born. We really are entering a new phase of life, one in which the times when the four of us are together are more interludes than the stuff of everyday life. I am having trouble getting my head around that.

18 to 81, or Interesting Times

Posted on July 23, 2024 by Steph

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Our beach party was small this year, just five of us, my family of four plus my mother. And for the first time since Noah was born, there were no minors present. We ranged in age from eighteen to eighty when we arrived and eighteen to eighty-one when we left.

Here’s what our all-adult group did at the beach and just after, while our country experienced nine days of twists and turns. (Ironically, while at the beach Noah and I were reading Terry Pratchett’s Interesting Times, named after the purported Chinese curse—“May you live in interesting times.”) President Biden was in Rehoboth at the same time we were, recovering from covid and contemplating his political future. It makes me a little sad to think about that. It was time for him to go, and he had a mixed record, but he did a lot of good, and it must have been hard.

Friday and Saturday: Getting There

North and I made it down to the beach by 5:15 p.m. on Saturday. It had been a long journey. Beth had left at 6 a.m. the previous morning to pick them up at camp, deliver them to a medical appointment and then home, where we were all reunited after almost two weeks, and had a dinner of homemade pizza. North always comes home from camp exhausted because they need to get up early and stay up late doing bed checks on campers, so they bowed out of meeting my mom at the airport. Shortly after dinner, though, Beth, Noah and I drove out to pick up my mom at National and dropped her off at her hotel in Silver Spring.

By mid-morning we were at her hotel again to fetch her and begin our drive to Rehoboth Beach. It took about six hours, with stops. There was almost no traffic at the bridge; in fact, most of the traffic seemed to be going the other way, which prompted my mom to tell the story of the time (when my sister and I were teens) when we were driving to the Outer Banks in heavy rain and all the traffic was going the other way and it turned out that it was because the storm was a hurricane and the islands were evacuating. There’s more to this story, involving my stepfather almost getting arrested for breaking into the closed realty’s office for the keys to our house. It’s a family favorite.

But while it was raining on and off during this drive, it was not a hurricane, and the only hardship we experienced was agonizingly slow traffic at the very end. We got to the house by 4:30. It has an interesting feature which is stone from an old lighthouse that collapsed in the 1920s is set in the brickwork of the chimney and around the front door.

Once the food was unpacked and linens distributed to all the bedrooms and bathrooms, North and I took a rainy walk to the beach. We only had one umbrella between us, and we tried to share but North ended up getting soaking wet. We were both happy to get our feet in the sand and surf, though, and to breathe sea air.

Meanwhile, Beth was doing a quick grocery shop for dinner and breakfast the next day. North and I made dinner—veggie burgers and dogs, baked beans, corn on the cob, sliced tomatoes, and watermelon. This was the day Trump was shot at the Republican convention. This was distressing news. I don’t want to live in a country where presidential elections are marked by violence against anyone, even him. (Before we left the beach, Noah reports, there were already t-shirts with the image of him with his fist up in the t-shirt shops. I missed that.)

But we were on vacation, so all five of us headed for the boardwalk, where we got frozen custard. The boardwalk was hopping, as befits a Saturday night in July, but I’d thought the rain—which had mostly stopped—might have deterred people. It was a pleasant night, though, not too hot, and we saw a rainbow on the way there. I spotted it first in a puddle and had a hard time finding it in the sky, but standing in the middle of the street, we found it, big but faint. It was easier to see in the reflection than in the sky. This seemed like it might be a good metaphor, but I’m not sure for what. Maya would probably know.

Sunday: Settling In

Sunday morning Beth and Mom did the big grocery shopping, North did a couple online modules they had to complete for school about alcohol and hazing—their Internet connection is not good at camp and they don’t have much time anyway—and I made and received calls from the realty about the fact that the house did not have hot water or any frying pans, which Noah needed to cook dinner. Once both of those problems were resolved with visits from the gas company and a realtor bearing pans, and once North had put together a potential class schedule for the fall semester and met with their advisor online, North and I went to the beach.

We got there about 2:30 and had a long swim, about an hour and half. The water was cold getting in, but pleasant once we got used to it and the waves were adequate. We saw pelicans and osprey catching fish and had a nice talk. In my opinion, the ocean is one of the best places to chat with someone. After our swim, North headed up to the house and I went to one of the boardwalk pavilions to read my book club book (The Great Mistake, a 1940s cozy mystery) in the shade for about an hour until my mom showed up and we went to sit on the sand together. She’d had something of an odyssey buying a beach chair and finding our meeting spot, but we had almost an hour to sit on the sand, watching the waves and talking. The beach is also an excellent place to talk.

Noah made dinner that night—veggie crab cakes made of chickpeas, artichokes, and hearts of palm. Beth loves these and had asked him to make them at the beach. They are quite tasty. After dinner, we watched Fancy Dance, which is very good, but heavy.

Monday: 37

Monday was Beth’s and my thirty-seventh anniversary. This is the summer anniversary, the one that commemorates our first kiss. We decided that rather than exchange gifts we’d just spend the whole day together, doing an activity of her choice in the morning and mine in the afternoon, and then we’d go to dinner.

Beth chose kayaking. We rented kayaks and explored Assawoman Bay. We saw all kinds of wildlife—egrets, geese, herons, dragonflies, a horseshoe crab, jellyfish, and mussels along the banks of an inlet. We were on the water for almost two hours. The day was sunny and warm but not oppressively hot, plus I was wet from the waist down from the water dripping off the paddles and that cooled me down. I haven’t been kayaking with Beth in a couple years—she goes frequently, so that was pleasant.

We returned to the house for lunch—Mom and the kids had gone out for Mexican, but they returned shortly after we finished eating. Our next stop was an ice cream place we’d never tried—it’s in one of the little alleys off Rehoboth Ave. I got black raspberry and Beth got cappuccino. I saw a gnome with popsicles on its hat there and photographed it for Nicole, who collects gnomes. It turned out to be the first in a series of vacation gnome pictures I sent her.

From there we went to the beach, where we rented chairs and an umbrella. This is something we don’t often do, so it felt luxurious. We read for about an hour and then stood in the surf for a while and then Beth went back to her chair while I had a brief swim before returning to our rented shade to watch the ocean.

I was people-watching, too. I spotted a young man in the surf with a glucose monitor on his arm. I thought—in his twenties and fit, probably type 1, but you never know. When he got out, he walked right by me and I wondered if he noticed my monitor and thought—in her fifties and plump, probably type 2, but you never know.

We went back to the house and showered for dinner. We went out for tapas and ordered a feast—a watermelon and berry salad on arugula, a cheese plate, ratatouille, tortilla Española, and two desserts to split—olive oil cake with berries, and a flourless chocolate torte. Everything was excellent. The waiter put a candle in the olive oil cake because it was our anniversary, which caused someone at the next table to wish me a happy birthday.

We went and sat on a bench on the boardwalk and almost immediately spotted dolphins. They weren’t going in a straight line north or south as they usually do, but circling and Beth surmised they were feeding on a school of fish. We watched them for at least twenty minutes and then took a walk on the beach in the sunset. I saw dolphins almost every day we were at the beach, but this was something else. It was a magical way to end the day, but the best part was just having a whole day devoted to spending time with each other.

And it so happened that the card I got Beth had dolphins on it. She got me one that said, “Let’s get old and weird together.” Apparently, North was with her when she bought it and opined quite firmly, “That’s the one.”

Tuesday and Wednesday: Being There

We went out to breakfast at Egg on Tuesday morning. Noah and I have worked out a system for summer breakfasts at this restaurant. I eat something high in protein at home before we leave, then we each order the lemon-blueberry crepes, and I eat half of mine and give the rest to him. I get a meal that doesn’t cause my blood sugar to spike or leave me feeling deprived, and he gets a plate and a half of crepes, which are one of his favorite foods.

Leaving the restaurant, we all strolled through the farmers’ market that’s right across the street and bought tomatoes and cucumbers for the gazpacho that Beth was making that night and peaches and blackberries. At a honey stand, I found a yellow and black striped gnome with a beehive in one hand a bee in the other and I took its picture for Nicole.

From there North and I continued down Rehoboth Ave where we went to BrowseAbout to get a birthday card for my mom. North browsed but did not buy anything. Next, we went to Candy Kitchen where I got taffy for the neighbors who were watering our garden in our absence, fudge for the house, sea salt caramels for myself, green apple army man gummies for North (eating them was an anti-militaristic statement, they assured me), and some dark chocolate-salted caramel-covered almonds for Beth, who had recently picked out a similar confection for herself at another store, put it down, and failed to bring it to the cash register.

Beth, North, and I went to the beach in the mid-afternoon, and the waves were better than average, the best of the trip so far. North and I swam and talked, but I also spent some time sitting with Beth and reading my mystery.

Beth left the beach first because it was her cooking night. Her beach meal is set—every year she makes gazpacho and salt-crusted new potatoes with cilantro-garlic sauce, served with Spanish cheeses, baguettes and olives. North made a pitcher of watermelon agua fresca to go with it. The meal was superlative, as always.

Mom was in the mood for ice cream afterward and it didn’t take much convincing to get everyone to the boardwalk. North and I stayed to ride the Haunted Mansion at Funland, which I love beyond reason, even though (or perhaps because) I have it practically memorized. The only surprise is whether it will take the route that goes across a balcony that gives you a brief glimpse of the beach and boardwalk and makes your car visible to passersby. We always hope for that and this time it happened.

One thing I do not love beyond reason is the idea of going to a water park at the beach. I am fine with water parks in their proper place, which is within amusement parks on a hot summer day, but if I am hot at the beach, I want to be in the ocean. So, I did not go to Jungle Jim’s with Beth, Noah, and North Wednesday morning.

While they were gone, Mom and I went out to lunch at our usual lunch place, O’Bies by the Sea. The food is fine, and it has an ocean view. It’s where I often indulge in my once yearly departure from vegetarianism, with a plate of steamed clams. I paired it with devilled eggs with Old Bay, and a berry cup. Mom got a crab cake sandwich.

I was alone at the beach that afternoon and I swam, walked the almost the length of the boardwalk twice, and read.

Mom cooked dinner that night. She made portobello mushrooms stuffed with kale and cheese, which were quite good. North asked what we wanted to do after dinner and I said something “undemanding” because I was worn out, so we ended up watching Mama Mia, which fit the bill.

Thursday: 81

In the morning Beth and North went kayaking in Rehoboth Bay. North said they explored a marshy area and got a little lost in its waterways and they saw herons, egrets, mussels, and many fiddler crabs. North found their asymmetric claws amusing.

While they were gone, Mom and Noah and I took a walk down to the boardwalk and sat in one of the pavilions. It was quite pleasant there, with a nice breeze and view of the dunes. We walked down to the beach briefly to look for dolphins because Mom hadn’t seen any yet, but none were in evidence.

We all got back to the house around the same time and ate lunch. Then Beth and I went to the bakery to pick up my mom’s birthday cake. It had pink and purple roses in the frosting, and she said it was almost to pretty to cut, but we did. I’d picked up some candles to go with it because I thought she would like their pastel colors and did not notice until Beth told me that they were the re-lighting kind. I warned Mom ahead of time and she said I should have surprised her with them. They not only re-lit themselves after she blew them out, but they threw off sparks, so there was a surprise after all.

In the afternoon, North and Noah went to Funland and Beth and I went to the beach. Rain had been threatening so I swam right away. The water was calm, probably because it was low tide, as I heard a man mansplaining to his companion. (Did you know there is one high and low tide each day and night and that they are not at exactly the same time every day?) I got out and read a few chapters of my book while North, who had just joined us, swam, and then I got in with them and swam again. The waves were a little bigger. Perhaps the tide had changed. I don’t know. Clearly, only a select few understand tides.

We went out for Japanese to celebrate Mom’s birthday. It’s a very pretty restaurant full of greenery, strung with fairy lights, and crisscrossed with koi ponds inside and out. (I would have liked to eat on the roof, but there were no tables available there.) We got some of our favorites—the kids got noodle dishes, we had edamame with Old Bay, seaweed salad, vegetable dumplings, and vegetable tempura. Beth got sushi and Mom got seafood pasta. Afterward we got ice cream on the boardwalk, having lucked into an excellent parking space.

North had been trying to get a root beer float since the water park, where they had been disappointed that it had been taken off the menu. They’d tried again that same day at another place that was supposed to carry them but had been out of root beer that day. We were returning to that establishment but, sadly, they were still out of root beer. North had to settle for coke float, their second one in two days. Beth drove Mom and Noah home and North and I walked home along the boardwalk in a fine, refreshing drizzle.

Friday and Saturday: The Last Hurray

With so much beach-going and other fun, I had been having a hard time keeping my blog up to date, so Friday morning I went to Café A-Go-Go to have a half-sweet Mexican mocha and a third of a piece of crumb cake and to pound the blog out before we returned home the next day and got buried in all those urgent things you have to do when you get home from a trip. Beth and North came with me and got their own drinks/treats, plus the other two-thirds of the crumb cake, and they sat outside so as not to disturb me. (When I asked my mom and Noah if they wanted to come and not talk to me, Noah said, “No thank you” and my mom seemed puzzled by why I was going in the first place instead of writing at the house or what she would do there.)

That afternoon everyone but Noah went to the beach. North and I swam in some very respectable waves, taking a brief break in the middle to reapply sunblock, rest, and eat cherries and pistachios. When the lifeguards blew the five o’clock whistle, we got out and headed back to the house for pre-dinner showers.

Dinner was mozzarella sticks, pizza, spinach stromboli, and gelato at Grotto. (Mom went around the corner to get a frozen custard.) The evening was mild and pleasant, after some warm and humid weather earlier in the week. Mom said festive umbrellas and strings of lights make every outdoor space more inviting and it does seem to be true. And when I went inside to use the restroom, I spied a pair of gnomes by the front door.

When dinner was finished all went around the table and said what our favorite part of the week had been, at Mom’s request. Noah wondered if he was allowed to say the water park (yes), Beth and I chose our anniversary, Mom liked her birthday dinner at the Japanese restaurant (“my favorite restaurant in Rehoboth”) and North chose swimming in the big waves that day. North had skipped dessert at Grotto because they wanted to try one more time to find a root beer float and this time, by trying a new store, they had success.

We got home and began packing. I assessed the contents of the fridge, tossing a few things and making decisions about what I’d throw out in the morning if no one ate it for breakfast and there wasn’t enough room in the cooler. (This is the most stressful part about leaving a rental house for me so it helps to think about it ahead of time.) Noah pitched in by eating a slice of birthday cake and some fudge on top of gelato. “I am doing my duty,” he said solemnly.

The next morning the kids had birthday cake for breakfast (“I do what I must,” Noah commented.) While we were packing and carrying things out to the breezeway in front of the driveway, an orange cat appeared and made the rounds, getting people to pet him.

After we vacated the house, we split into three groups. North and I went to the beach, Mom and Noah went to read in a boardwalk pavilion, and Beth returned the keys and went to read in a coffeehouse. Much to our surprise, the orange cat followed us when we left the house, even crossing a busy street. A man witnessed this, asked if it was our cat and when we said no, he scooped it up. North surmised he was going to take it to a vet to see if it was microchipped, because it was acting lost.

North and I had a nice final swim. When we got out of the water we saw a big pod of dolphins, including some that were jumping high enough out of the water that I saw their tails, but not their noses. It was the first time that week North and Mom (whom we fetched from the pavilion) saw any dolphins, so they were excited. Noah stayed in the pavilion to watch our stuff and by the time he got down there with his camera, they were gone.

We all met up for lunch. North got a sandwich at Green Man, Noah got fries at Thrashers, I got orangeades, and we brought them to supplement our meal at the crepe stand where we always have our last lunch on summer beach trips.

We had a few errands to do in town—a last run to Candy Kitchen, a last ice cream, a photo op at O’Bies by the Sea. Beth and I once took a picture there with my sister, who also went to Oberlin and Beth had the idea to take a new picture with our newest Obie.

Next we dropped by the realty to get the keys back because my mom had left a charger in the house, but the cleaners had taken it away, and when we checked back at the realty later (after a visit to the Crocs outlet on the highway) it wasn’t back yet, so we gave up on it and drove out of town, but right after a stop for gas, the realtor called and said it had finally been returned. We were not far away at this point, but I failed to consider that on a summer Saturday afternoon beach traffic is mostly going into town, not out, so it took much longer to get back than it had to get to the gas station in the first place. We weren’t driving away from the beach for good until 4:30.

After that we made decent time, but we got home later than we expected. Mom and the kids and I had dinner at Cava in Silver Spring, while Beth took the car home to unload it and then she came back and took Mom to her hotel. When we got back to the house, we were reunited with the kittens, and I was happy to see our first sunflower had bloomed in our absence. North and I tackled the first of what would be four loads of laundry so they could have all their clothes clean to take to camp and we fell into bed.

Sunday: Goodbyes

The next morning, we dropped North off at the camp bus stop where they would check campers onto the bus before boarding it themselves. Beth and I went to the farmers’ market from there and came home with tomatoes and a bounty of summer fruit (apricots, blueberries, peaches, and plums). Then she took me to Silver Spring, where Mom and I met up, wandered through a small street festival, listened to some music, and got Lebanese for lunch, while Beth finished the grocery shopping.

Back at home, Mom met the kittens, and took in the changes we’ve made to the house since she was last here. While Beth was out taking a walk, and Mom, Noah and I were chatting in the living room he got a notice on his watch that President Biden had dropped out of the race, so we turned on the television to learn more. It was a small relief, as I think Vice President Harris is in better shape to govern, though I don’t know whether she’s better positioned to win—and this question is causing me a lot of anxiety. At the very least, she’s not less likely to win. Beth came home while we were watching tv (also alerted to the news) because she had to work on a press release. It wasn’t the first time she had to work during this unprecedented week in American history. She is the communications director of her union so when something big needs to be communicated, it falls to her.

Mom and I took a little walk around the neighborhood, ending up at a playground where we reminisced about taking the kids when they were little. Later that afternoon, we took her to the airport and our visit was over. I’m hoping next summer my sister, brother-in-law, and niece will come to the beach and then we’ll be 12 to 82. Also, less interesting current events during a week of a Harris presidency would be fine by me.

Comings and Goings

Posted on July 9, 2024 by Steph

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North Comes Home

After that first weekend, North managed to come home the next two as well, by volunteering to be a bus counselor. Saturday of their second weekend home it was very hot, the first hundred-degree day of the summer. We spent it thusly: Beth was up shortly after dawn to go kayaking, I went swimming at Piney Branch pool, the kids watched the last two episodes of Dr. Who, Beth and North had lunch at Cava, everyone went to see Inside Out 2, Noah and I roasted zucchini, tomatoes, and feta for dinner and everyone went out for ice cream at Everyday Sundae in the District. It was on that list of twelve best places to get ice cream in the D.C. metro area that has been guiding our ice cream choices this summer. I got blueberry cheesecake. It was good, but not exceptional.

The next Friday, North came home with a sprained ankle and without their phone because they dropped it into a latrine at camp. Because they weren’t up for much walking, we decided not to go to the Smithsonian Folklife Festival, which we’d been considering, and Beth and North spent a lot of time while they were home setting up their new phone. For the record, this was the second phone they lost in a month, so they volunteered to pay for half of it and we took them up on it.

That Saturday North also hung out with Maddie, Noah and I roasted radishes and fried tofu for dinner, and we went to Dairy Godmother in Alexandria, Virginia. This was the longest trek we’d made for ice cream so far. This place is famous for its custard (though it also sells sorbet and vegan ice cream), so we thought that’s what we should order. There are only three custard flavors every day—vanilla, chocolate, and whatever the flavor of the day is. My blood sugar was on the low side when we arrived, so I splurged on a sundae—chocolate custard with marshmallow sauce and sour cherries. It was an excellent combination of flavors. I was quite pleased with it. We have now visited all the top-rated ice cream venues—it was a three-way tie—one each in Maryland, the District, and Virginia. This has been a fun project.

The next morning, Beth drove North to the camp bus on her way out of town, because she was off on her own trip…

Beth Goes to Wheeling

Beth spent another week with her mom. She worked, visited with relatives, road-tripped with her friend Michelle to Morgantown, and spent a lot of time in her mom’s condo’s pool. I sent her off with a pint of homemade sour cherry sauce and I got a lot of compliments about it from Beth’s mom and Michelle.

Noah and I were on our own for six days. We worked and watched a few episodes of Angel and Scrapper. I started writing postcards again after a long hiatus. I did a batch reminding Florida voters to renew their enrollment in the vote-by-mail program and another for a school board candidate (also in Florida) who is running against a Moms for Liberty candidate. It soothes my election-related anxiety a little to be doing something, even if it’s for a down ballot race. Because if the unspeakable does happen, who’s in office at the state and municipal level is going to matter. (Well, it always does, but you know what I mean.)

Noah and I Go to a Parade

Noah and I went to Takoma’s Fourth of July parade. We used to go almost every year, but between covid cancellations (2020 and 2021) and travels (2022 and 2023) we haven’t been since 2019. I enjoyed it. I always do—the painted rooster statue on wheels (the rooster is the symbol of Takoma), the papier mâché shark representing a swim team, the UFO and aliens just because, drummers from various cultures (Scottish, Japanese, and Caribbean), and seeing Jamie Raskin, our congressional representative. If you’re not a Marylander and you’ve heard of him, it’s probably because he was the impeachment manager during Trump’s second impeachment. He was one of many local politicians walking the route or riding in classic cars, and all the rest of them got polite applause, but people went wild for Raskin, shouting out “Thank you!” and similar things. He’s a local hero.

One notable event in the parade was that toward the end, a horse who had been in the parade, got loose and ran through the parade, against the flow of the procession. One person was knocked down, but thankfully, no one was seriously hurt.

When it was over I considered the fact that we don’t see as many people we know as we used to at this event. The crowd skews toward families with kids of elementary school age or younger and we don’t know many people like that anymore. In fact, the only people I saw whom I knew were my city council member and her family, who were in the parade. Her son went to preschool with North. The lack of familiar faces among the spectators made me feel a little sad and unconnected, even though a few people I know were there and posted pictures on Facebook. I just didn’t see them at the time.

My melancholy might have stemmed from the fact that I was already missing Beth and North. It just felt odd to be apart on this holiday we’ve spent together so many times, even though we were split up last Fourth of July, too. I guess being in a new place with extended family made it easier last time. But it’s the kind of thing that will happen more and more often, I expect, as the kids move out into the world.

Noah and I had a picnic dinner (on the porch because the evening was rainy). I scaled it back a little, skipping the potato salad and baked beans, because Noah doesn’t like them and they’re not great for me in a meal with plenty of other carbs. We had vegetarian hot dogs, devilled eggs, corn on the cob, watermelon, and ice cream with blueberries and another batch of sour cherry sauce. He helped by shucking the corn and slicing the watermelon while I was out running errands.

Beth Comes Home and North Does Not

Two days later, Beth came home. North did not because there were fewer campers due to the Fourth of July holiday and not enough to fill a bus. (The campers and counselors who were there went on a field trip to see fireworks in a nearby town—so North was the only one in our family who saw any this year.)

I made a blueberry crumble to welcome Beth home. Noah and I made soba noodles with a peanut sauce, cucumbers, green peppers, and radishes and we all ate the noodles and crumble and watched The Death of Stalin, which Noah’s been wanting to watch for a long time. We weren’t all together, but it was still very good to have Beth home.

Willow and Walter Go to the Vet

On Monday, Willow and Walter got the last vaccine they’ll need for a while, for rabies. Beth reports they were not at all freaked out by the car ride or the dogs in the vet’s waiting room. I wasn’t surprised. They were pretty chill at their three-month visit a few weeks ago. They continue to grow. Walter’s just over five and a quarter pounds and Willow is just over four pounds.

They also continue to be very energetic and mischievous. They spend a high percentage of their waking hours wrestling, chasing each other, or finding things to knock off other things. Willow likes to get up on high things and pounce on her brother from above. Every day I find them in funny places—in the dishwasher, the recycling bin, batting each other through the holes in a laundry basket, drinking from the toilet. Walter is particularly fond of sitting on the printer. Sometimes they sit on the coffee table in front of the television and watch along with us, Walter occasionally batting at the screen if there’s something enticing like race cars. They love ice cubes and come running whenever they hear the dispenser on the freezer door. Then we must give them one and let them bat it across the kitchen floor.

So that covers our comings and goings from the past few weeks. I hope yours have been festive, relaxing, or whatever you want out of these mid-summer days.

Summer’s Coming Around Again

Posted on June 19, 2024 by Steph

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Here now summer’s coming around again
Every year it seems to come in this way

From “Summer’s Coming Around Again,” by Carly Simon, James E. Ryan, and Paul Glanz

North finished a week of staff training at camp. They got certified for CPR and passed the swim test. Sunday, they welcomed the first group of campers and escorted them to camp on the bus. They were home for a day and two nights before that. They didn’t expect to come home so soon, but the camp asked volunteers to be bus counselors and a ride home two days prior was part of the deal, so they took it.

Here’s what we were up to while they were gone and while they were home and then after they left:

Takoma Pride

Takoma Pride was a week ago Sunday. Beth and I dropped by in between a visit to the farmers’ market, where we got strawberries, cherries, and a dill plant, and the Fulfillery, where we got some small cloth bags. We looked at the booths, watched the family parade go by, chatted with a friend, and got our picture taken by the flowery Love sign. Takoma Pride is small but spirited, and I always enjoy it.

Adventures with Bees

The next day a beekeeper came to the house. Why would we need this service? A couple weeks earlier Noah was moving one of our outdoor chairs so he could mow the lawn and he got stung on the face by a bee that emerged from the stuffing of the chair. It turned out there was a whole nest of bumblebees living in there. We were all puzzled because we were under the impression bumblebees don’t sting. As there was also a tiny wasp nest in the eaves, we considered the possibility that Noah was coincidentally stung by a wasp as he moved the chair, but soon after North was walking by the same chair which was inconveniently located right outside the back door and they got stung, too. And they saw the stinging insect and insisted it was a bumblebee.

We consulted with our pest control company agent who told us bumblebees don’t sting and recommended getting a beekeeper to come remove the nest. We did just that because we didn’t want to kill them (though we did have the pest company take care of the wasp nest). It took a while to get the beekeeper to come, but he does it for free, so we can’t really complain. He told us bumblebees do sting on rare occasions when their nest is threatened. Then he got into his suit, enclosed the chair cushion in a garbage bag and took it away to release the bees into the wild. A few must have been outside the nest when he did it because we saw them flying around the area looking for their home for several days afterward.

The irony of this whole adventure was that when Noah set out to mow the lawn it hadn’t been mowed in almost two months because in April and May it’s covered in buttercups and asters and I like to leave it as a little meadow until they’re done, partly because it’s pretty and partly for the pollinators. And then they go and sting my kids. No good deed goes unpunished.

Mini-Kitchen Renovation

We’ve been doing a partial kitchen renovation, little by little. We had it painted in January 2023 and then we got a new induction stove this April. Last week we had a new back door and kitchen flooring installed. The old door didn’t fit quite right in the doorframe, and it used to blow open on windy days if it wasn’t bolted shut and the pest control company cited it as a possible entry point for mice. We had mice for years and we’ve only been mouse-free for several months, so we did not want to extend an invitation for them to return.

I’m not sure how old the floor was, but it was there when we moved into the house in 2002 and it was badly chipped. The old pattern was white with little black diamonds. I liked it a lot and wanted something similar, at least something black and white and geometrical. This was surprisingly hard to find. Almost all the options for the kind of interlocking tiles the contractor suggested had a wood, granite, or marble pattern and I didn’t want flooring pretending to be something it wasn’t. I had to look at eight hundred patterns—really, no exaggeration—to find the big black and white checkers we ended up choosing, but I really like them. I didn’t even remember this until Beth mentioned it, but it looks just like the floor in our D.C. apartment where we lived from 1991 to 2002. Maybe that’s why it speaks to me. North is not pleased that the floor looks “different.” I get it. Change can be hard, maybe especially in your childhood home.

Weekend Visit

Speaking of North, they came home Friday evening and stayed until Sunday morning. When they got home, they hugged the kittens first, then Beth and me, and then Noah, who said on seeing them, “I have a job.”

“I do, too,” they replied.

North’s first night home we had homemade pizza with vegetarian pepperoni and olives for dinner and watched All of Us Strangers, which was moving and well-acted. Saturday morning, they had brunch with El in the city.

That afternoon we drove all the way to Rockville for ice cream. We did this because the weekend section of the Post had a feature about the twelve best places to get ice cream in the DC Metro area and we all thought it was incumbent on us to save the article and sample ice cream from at least four places, with each of us getting to choose one. North thought we should start right away and since they won’t be home every weekend this summer, we let them choose first. They noted there was a three-way tie for first place and went with Sarah’s Handmade Ice Cream and Treats because it had some tea-based and floral flavors and they found that intriguing. It was also ranked the best ice cream in Maryland, the other two winners being in the District and Virginia.

On the drive there, I was wondering if it was silly to drive so far for ice cream, when ice cream is widely available closer to home, and I’m not an ice cream connoisseur. It’s not like I’ve ever gone out for ice cream and thought “Yuck!” but I have to say it was a fun outing. When we got there, we recognized the shopping plaza as somewhere we’d once stopped to use the restrooms on a road trip, though none of us was sure exactly when. The flavors were indeed interesting. North got lavender-honey and Thai iced tea. I got apricot-pistachio. If you’re local, we give it four thumbs up.

North got a migraine after we got home and used the new nasal spray for the first time. It didn’t eliminate the headache, but it quickly took the pain down to a manageable level. However, they said it stung and then it dripped down their throat and tasted bad. “But it’s better than a migraine, right?” I said.

“I guess so,” they said, but it wasn’t a ringing endorsement. They went to lie down for a little while but then they got up and were able to carry on with the evening, so I count it as a win. When I wrote about this earlier, I didn’t realize that as with their most effective med, there’s a limit on how many times they can take it, five times a month. So that gives them meds for roughly three days a week, up from two, which still falls short of what they need, but it’s an improvement. They took the spray to camp with them when they went back.

That night Noah and I made enchiladas using cilantro I’d grown from seeds harvested from a previous year’s cilantro plants. This isn’t the first time I’ve managed this feat, but I was fishing for compliments on my gardening prowess when Noah said it practically qualified me to be a tradwife, which wasn’t exactly what I was going for. We did also make the sauce from scratch, but not from our own tomatoes or poblanos, so we’re not quite suburban homesteaders yet.

That night we watched a couple episodes of Grownish and the next morning the kids watched an episode of Dr. Who before North left for camp. Noah agreed to get up at 7:30 to do so, which was unusual for him any day of the week and it was a Sunday. He did note he needed to shift his sleep schedule when he started work on Tuesday, but on Saturday he was still asleep when I left the house at eleven to go swim, so I was kind of surprised he managed it.

North said goodbye to everyone (except Beth who’d gone kayaking and said her goodbyes the night before) and called a Lyft. They said before they left that they were nervous but excited to meet the kids. Their group this week is in a theater-based program, and they were happy about that. They will probably be back home next weekend.

Kitten Update

So, I promised a kitten update in the comments section of my last post. They turned three months old on Monday. No surprise, they continue to be very cute. When we first got them, they did everything together. If one of them went to the water bowl, the other would drink, too. They would use the litterbox at the same time. They slept together and played together whenever they weren’t sleeping. It’s been almost four weeks since we got them and they still do all these things, but they are spending a little time apart now. One evening Willow slept on Beth’s stomach as she lay on our bed, while Walter was camped out on me on the living room couch, and this went on for at least an hour. Willow has the habit of trying to suckle on Walter’s belly, which apparently kittens sometimes do with their siblings after they’ve been separated from their mother. He is very patient with this behavior, though sometimes he looks a bit puzzled by it.

I didn’t expect personality differences to emerge this early because Matthew and Xander were very similar as kittens and quite different as adult cats, but it does seem as if Walter is going to be the more laid-back, easy-going one and Willow is more daring and adventurous. She will climb a window screen in pursuit of a fly and is a little more intense in their wrestling matches and chasing games. She also likes to play “monster under the covers,” which is what we called it when our first cat, Emily, used to chase our feet under the covers. (Emily enjoyed this game her whole life.) Walter will sometimes join in if he sees her doing it.

We took the cats for their three-month checkup and vaccines on Monday, and they are healthy. As we suspected, Walter is growing a little faster than Willow. Willow has gained a pound since we got her and now weighs in at three pounds. Walter has gained a pound and a half and now tips the scale at four pounds. The vet says they’re both in a normal range for their age. The vet put their picture on the office Instagram. Check out Takoma Park Animal Clinic if you want to see it.

Working Man

Noah started his job on Tuesday. For now, he’ll be in the office on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, and either working from home or off on Mondays and Fridays. Based on the total number of hours he’s supposed to work between now and November, I suspect the work will ramp up over the course of the next several months and will be more than full-time by the end. Another hint that hours may get long: he was told that closer to the election, the company will provide lunch.

He seems to like the office. There’s another seasonal employee he says is about his age. He spent his first two days sorting through stock photos and trying to find out which ones were shot in the United States, because candidates want images made in America in their ads. (It’s always interesting to me to learn the things people do at different jobs that you’d never realize have to be done.)

So, another summer is coming around. It will be a summer unlike any other we’ve had thus far, with all four of us working. I was all alone in the house Tuesday and much of Wednesday because Beth had to go into the office and then to a Juneteenth event. This is pretty rare since Beth’s office is still hybrid and she usually works at home, and even when she does go to work, for the last year or so, one or both of the kids was usually home. It’s a change, but despite North’s reaction to the floor, not all change is bad.

Life is a Highway

Posted on June 9, 2024 by Steph

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Life’s like a road that you travel onWhen there’s one day here and the next day gone

“Life is a Highway,” Rascal Flats

Hey, guess what? North graduated from high school and Noah has news, too.

In the almost two weeks between the last day of school and graduation, North kept busy. This is what they were up to:

1. Baking

We went strawberry-picking the day before Memorial Day and North volunteered to make the strawberry-blueberry shortcake I usually make for our Memorial Day picnic. It was one of many baking projects. They also made chocolate cupcakes with strawberry-whipped cream frosting for their friend Grey’s birthday, and two batches of almond butter-chocolate chip cookies, one of which was for a picnic with friends, and one for us. They made enough of the cupcakes for us to sample them, too.

2. Socializing

Speaking of friends, they were quite social in their time off school. They had a gathering in a playground with friends from middle school (this was the one with cookies) and another gathering at Ranvita’s house with friends from high school, at which everyone made a different pasta or potato dish to share.

The first Saturday in June, roughly the same group of friends also met in downtown Silver Spring for lunch and then went to Ranvita’s house to prepare for Pride Prom, which North attended with El. North says it was more fun than regular prom because it wasn’t as loud, the music was better, and they knew more people. (Beth and I discussed how it was very lesbian to get ready for prom at your ex-girlfriend’s house and go with someone else and everyone is fine with it.)

In addition to all these group social engagements, their new friend Valerie came over and had dinner here one day, and they went to El’s house the afternoon after graduation practice to watch Fear Street 3, having previously watched the first two installments together, and then they went to Maddie’s house the day before graduation to drop off tickets—we had extra and North gave them to several of their junior friends—and they hung out there for a while.

3. Cleaning

The kids and I gave the porch its annual big clean the same day as Pride Prom. This chore involves carrying all the porch furniture onto the lawn, scrubbing the walls and floors with soapy water to remove pollen, grime, and dust, and then lugging the furniture back onto the porch. It also involves water play, usually in the form of Noah spraying North with the hose (with their consent). Because it was a sunny day, the spray made rainbows and that seemed appropriate because it was the first day of Pride month. It also reminded me to find the little Pride flags we stick in our front porch planters in June. (I often leave the flags there all summer and into the fall, taking them down after National Coming Out Day in October.)

4. Dealing with Medical Issues

We also had to squeeze in a lot of appointments before North’s departure for camp. On the day after Memorial Day alone, they had three. One of these meetings, a virtual one, was with the Office of Disability and Access at Oberlin to discuss accommodations. North wants a room on the first floor or in a building with an elevator and access to early registration so they can try to avoid late afternoon classes, as that’s when they get their migraines. The staff person they spoke to was encouraging, but their case hasn’t progressed through all the official channels yet.

Speaking of their migraines, they recently got two new prescriptions, a monthly injectable preventative that you have to be eighteen to take and a rescue nasal spray they just happened to have not tried yet. They’ve only had one injection so far, about three weeks ago, and we can’t tell if it’s making a difference yet, but it can take a while to work (sometimes up to three months), so we’re still hopeful about it. It took so long to get through the red tape that was necessary to obtain the nasal spray that it just arrived on Tuesday and they haven’t tried it yet. We really just need one medication or the other to work because North already has a rescue medicine that works for them, but it can only be taken twice a week, and they get four to five migraines a week. If either of the new medicines works well enough to reduce the number of migraines they get to two a week or fewer or effectively halt them once they start, it will greatly improve their quality of life. So, keep your fingers crossed for that.

5. Watching Television

The Sunday before graduation, North and I were talking about how they were leaving for camp in less than a week and we drew up a list of the six television shows they are watching with various members of the family to see if there was a chance of finishing either all available episodes or a season in any of those shows. It only looked possible for Dr. Who (the kids watched the most recent episode on Monday morning) and maybe Emily in Paris, which they’re watching with me. We had six episodes left in season 2, and we watched three of them on Sunday night, one on Tuesday night, and two on Wednesday night. The four of us also hit the midpoint of season 2 of Grownish.

6. Riding the Rails

In other activities, North enjoys trains, so they amused themselves by taking the Metro to stops they’ve never been just for the ride. One day soon after school let out, they rode the Red Line from one end to the other and were in process of doing the same on the Yellow Line on the Monday before graduation when they exited a train car, not noticing their phone had slipped out of their pocket onto their seat or the floor. They realized what had happened when their podcast cut out as they watched the train the phone was on pull away with it. Metro Lost and Found didn’t respond to inquiries, so we had to get North a new phone. I told them it was an extra graduation present.

7. Being Promoted to Honor Thespian

The same day they lost their phone, Beth, North, and I attended the induction ceremony for the International Thespian Society in the courtyard of their school. There was music playing from various shows that have been put on over the past three years and cake and then we watched all the new and returning thespians each light a votive candle and set it afloat in a metal tub of water. When the candles bump up against each other in the water the melting wax causes some of them fuse. The theater director, Mr. S, explained that each time it creates a different collective pattern from everyone’s individual contribution, just like live theater performance does. It’s a very simple but beautiful ceremony.

Mr. S introduced each student and announced how much credit each had earned for acting, crew work, writing Cappies reviews, participating theater outside school, or taking a theater class. You need at least ten points total in two categories to be inducted and then there are a few levels above that. North was inducted last spring with twenty points, earned thirty more this year, and was awarded ten more from taking an acting class in tenth grade (due to a recent rule change). This meant they will graduate at the Honors Thespian level. The next day at graduation rehearsal, they came home with thespian cords and a Cappies medal (plus a certificate for earning a GPA of 3.75 or higher).

8. Graduating

Graduation was at ten a.m. Thursday at DAR Constitution Hall in the District, and the students were supposed to arrive at 8:30, so we left the house at 7:20. We dropped North off and headed for Peet’s Coffee, where I got a latte and Noah and I split an apple Danish. Beth and I took off on separate walks while Noah waited for us there. The doors were supposed to open for guests at nine, so we were surprised to see the graduates still milling around outside when we arrived.

Instead of letting the kids in first, the doors opened, and everyone was let in at 9:15. North was annoyed at having to wait so long, but that’s how these things go sometimes. We found our seats and waited. We picked a spot where Noah thought would be good for photos, and we noticed Talia’s family on the other side of the hall almost directly across from us. Talia and North went to preschool together and reconnected in high school when they worked on some of the same shows together. Talia’s mom and I have been good friends since our kids were two. Because North went to high school out of boundary and most of their friends this year were juniors, I knew many fewer of the kids graduating than I did at Noah’s graduation, so it was nice to be able to see Talia’s folks experiencing the same thing, if from a distance.

So, you’ve been to a graduation before, right? They are all very similar. There are speeches. The graduates cross the stage and collect their diplomas. People are told at the beginning to hold their applause until all the names have been called and no one does that. (There was an especially fervent fan club of a girl named Sophia sitting near us.)

Beth predicted ahead of time that covid would feature prominently in the speeches since this class had their first year of high school almost completely online. The principal spoke about that and about how their first year was his first year as principal of the school, and how it took a while for him to get to know their class. The student speaker quoted the song “Life is a Highway” and used it as a metaphor for their trip through their high school years, from the online ninth grade year through the masks, distancing, and limited extracurriculars of their sophomore year to the more open last two years.

I always pay attention to names, and while I didn’t go so far as to count to see what was most popular, it seems there were quite a lot of Zoës and Sophias in North’s class. The most interesting names belonged to a boy whose two middle names were John Coltrane and a girl who was named Love Lee Angel plus one more middle name and a last name.

After we’d gone from Abrahams to Zuniga, all the names had been called. Caps flew into the air. North only tossed theirs a few inches because they’d bejeweled it with the Oberlin logo and they wanted to keep it for pictures. That was what we did next. We met El and several of North’s junior friends who’d come to perform in the choir or watch the ceremony—for pictures.

The rest of the day had been planned by North. We went to Sunflower for a late lunch. It’s our favorite vegetarian Chinese restaurant but we don’t go often because it’s in Vienna, Virginia, which is kind of a hike from where we live. We most often go in October, as it’s near our traditional pumpkin patch. We were all very hungry by the time we got there, and the food was delicious. We are especially fond of the fake shrimp.

Back in Maryland, frozen yogurt was our next stop, but I had to abstain because it was too close to lunch and my blood sugar was in what I consider the special occasion range and still rising. Next, we went to downtown Silver Spring and watched Challengers, which was fun. Miles and Maddie met us there after the movie was over for more pictures because they hadn’t managed to meet up with us in the city.

We got home and had a late dinner of frozen entrees. We figured ahead of time there would be no time to cook dinner that night, so we’d stocked up. While we ate, North opened their graduation gifts. They’d previously opened checks from both grandmothers; Noah got them an earring rack; I got them two t-shirts from Takoma businesses (a Takoma Beverage Company shirt with rainbow letters and a tie-dyed shirt from People’s Book where North’s queer poetry book club met); and Beth got them a stuffed white squirrel wearing an Oberlin College t-shirt. North had requested a stuffed white squirrel that was “less scary” than the angry-looking mascot they’d found on the campus store’s website. Beth made the t-shirt herself with an iron-on Oberlin logo. I told them my gift and Beth’s were to remind them of where they’d come from and where they were going.

And then North had to finish up their packing because the very next day they were…

Going to Camp

The next day Beth, North, and I drove to the Girl Scout camp in western Virginia where they are going to spend most of the summer as a counselor. It’s in the George Washington National Forest, near the West Virginia border. Beth had a meeting that went until one and we left soon after. The drive was supposed to take two and a half to three hours, but with traffic it took almost four, with a few brief pit stops for coffee, gas, and restrooms. We listened to podcasts (Handsome, Normal Gossip, and The Moth) and watched the scenery get less suburban and more mountainous. We arrived at camp at five, a half hour late for counselor orientation, but the staff person who met us said the tour had just started and North hadn’t missed much. We dropped their stuff off in their cabin and said a hasty goodbye.

I would have liked to get a better look at the camp, but from what I saw it was much more rustic than the Girl Scout camp they attended the summers they were nine, ten, and eleven. There are no flush toilets, and the cabins have no electricity. I know there’s a charging station counselors can use, plus washing machines, driers, and refrigerators somewhere, and a row of sinks with running water in a shelter outside the latrines, so there are some modern conveniences.

It felt strange to drive away so soon after arriving, but North gets weekends off—the campers rotate in and out every week and the sessions run from Sundays to Fridays, with Saturdays off for counselors—and there’s a bus that runs between Silver Spring and camp that both campers and counselors can take, so they intend to come home sometimes, maybe as soon as in two weeks.

Meanwhile, in News of the Other Kid….

After leaving camp, we found an Italian restaurant nearby where we had pizza before hitting the road back to our own summer as a trio. A summer, which will involve employment for Noah, as it turns out. As we approached the restaurant I got a text from him. Do any of you remember the job he interviewed for in February with a media company that took forever to get back to him? Well, he got that job. It’s a full-time video editing position that will start in about a week and last until early November. The company makes video content for businesses, organizations, and Democratic political campaigns. They’re hiring extra help for the election season.

Noah’s been working only sporadically since last summer (most often for this very office) so it’s a relief for him to have something steady for the next several months. It looks like both kids are embarking on summer adventures, expected and unexpected, as they travel life’s highway. I’m very happy for them both.

Sunrise, Sunset

Posted on May 25, 2024 by Steph

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Yesterday was a big day around here, full of endings and beginnings. North has finished high school (though graduation is almost two weeks off) and we adopted two kittens.

Penultimate Week of School

“I am never going to high school on a Tuesday again,” North informed me on the second Tuesday in May when I got back from voting in the Maryland primary. Public schools were closed because some of them were polling places, so North had the day off. They had already voted by mail, so they ordered pizza and watched two horror movies back-to-back—Halloween and Bodies, Bodies, Bodies. “Are you living your best life?” I asked them and they said yes. The reason they’d have no school the following Tuesday was that it was Senior Skip Day, and I did end up saying yes to that.

Last Weekend of the School Year

The following weekend Beth and North went cabin camping. They took some hikes, including one along the Susquehanna River, where they saw a lot of herons, and they explored antique stores in Havre de Grace, where North bought some penguin earrings. On Saturday North fed most of their school papers for the year into a bonfire, which has been a May-and-June camping trip tradition for both kids over the years. (They had to save a few papers because there was another week of school left.)

Last Week of School, Monday

On Monday, North went to school in pajamas because it was Pajama Day for Senior Spirit Week. They were also lugging a tote bag filled with apple juice, pineapple juice, paper cups, and a bag of Sour Patch Kids. This was their contribution to their AP Lit class’s end-of-year party. In law, they started watching Legally Blonde, and they didn’t expect to have to complete any assignments on it. They reported that they were doing math games in their IB math class and regular work was continuing in Sociology and Mythology, but things were definitely winding down.

The next day was Senior Skip Day. This was also the day we met the kittens (virtually). But let’s back up a little here, so I can tell you about a different cat, because he was an important part of how we got here.

The Original Conjuring Cat

If we’re friends on Facebook, you’ve probably seen pictures of our next-door neighbors’ very friendly cat, Uno. I haven’t asked, but I assume his people named him that because he’s blind in one eye. Uno’s family moved in back in December and sometime in February he started to expand his territory to include our yard. He rolls around and naps on our grass, occasionally climbs a tree, and winds around my legs while I come outside to put compost in the bucket or hang laundry on the line. If I stop petting him before he thinks I should, he knocks the socks off the drying rack or bats at my ankles to get my attention. Sometimes when someone opens the back door, he will come inside and explore. We are all smitten with this cat.

The first week in May, Uno’s people went away for a few days and North cat-sat for him. He must have missed his family because for a few days he came inside our house more often than usual and stayed longer. He actually jumped up and sat on my lap while we were watching television one night. Everything about this experience, his weight and warmth in my lap, the way he purred and licked my hand, was deeply comforting. It was that night I felt something shift in me and I realized, more than a year and a half after Xander died, that I finally felt ready to have cats again. Like Mr. Mistoffelees, Uno had performed a conjuring trick on me and melted that frozen, cat-shaped part of my heart.

I decided not to say anything to Beth or the kids for a week, just to see if the feeling stuck. It did and ten days ago (in our family therapist’s waiting room) we started looking at kittens available for adoption at various rescue organizations’ websites. The next day, Thursday, we put in a request to meet two male kittens. We heard back from their foster home on Sunday that they were no longer available, so we chose another pair of kittens, one male and one female, from a litter of four, and we heard back that same day that they were available. We made an appointment to meet the man who was fostering them virtually on Tuesday morning, knowing that North would be home for Senior Skip Day.

The Naming of Cats

Before the meeting, we talked a lot about cat names. I am the one who cares the most about names, the one who regularly posts comments on Swistle’s baby-naming blog, and the one who has a list of cat names saved up for future cats that is longer (by far) than the number of cats I am likely to have in the rest of my life, unless I become a crazy cat lady. But I also like the serendipity of cats who come with good names already. Matthew was just such a cat. Xander came to us with the name Spanky, so obviously that had to be changed.

When we were waiting to see about the two male kittens, I wavered between their shelter names (Oliver and Enzo) which I liked, and the names I’d picked years ago for two male kittens (Jonas and Ezekiel, from the Indigo Girls song). Everyone seemed willing to let me decide. But when we learned they’d already found a home and we were considering the male-female pair, I was lukewarm on their names (Dawson and Darla), but I didn’t have go-to set of names for a mixed sex pair.

I did have one for a gray female, though, Willow. My logic was pussy willows are gray, and I also liked the idea of another name from Buffy, the Vampire Slayer because it is my all-time favorite television show. We had a brief discussion about how the kitten in question might be more of a gray/brown mix, the kind that’s often called a brown tabby, but Beth reassured me that pussy willows are gray and brown if you include the stem. I’d been considering giving any cats we adopted middle names to honor Matthew and Xander and when I put Willow and Alexandra together, it sounded perfect. Willow Alexandra… isn’t that lovely?

My girl cat name list was longer than my boy cat name list. In fact, the only other male name I could remember was reserved in my mind for an orange cat, so I asked if anyone else had ideas. North brainstormed a few: Charlie, James, Leo, and Walter. I liked most of those and threw Jonah and Zachary into the pool, but I wasn’t set on any of them. Then I remembered Graham, which I’d completely forgotten was on the list. (I never wrote any of this down.) We decided we should wait to meet the kittens and see what fit.

Last Week of School, Tuesday (Senior Skip Day)

Tuesday morning, we chatted with the man fostering the kittens while we watched them play with toys and tumble around on the floor with the other two kittens in their litter. We learned all four were getting spayed or neutered the next day and after that, they would be ready for adoption. We requested the forms for the next step.

When we got off the call, Beth said very sternly, “We can’t have four cats,” but no one had said anything about that, so I think she might have been speaking to herself as much as to us.

After the meeting, North and I walked to Koma, a coffeeshop that opened in our neighborhood last winter. We got coffee and split an apricot Danish. I dropped them off at home and continued my morning walk. When I got home, Noah and North were watching Dr. Who. I set North to work organizing and culling a drawer full of free greeting cards we get from charities. (We get more of these than we can use, and the drawer is stuffed).

In the mid-afternoon El came over to watch Fear Street 2 with North and they stayed for dinner. North had wanted them to come earlier, saying it was kind of missing the point of Senior Skip Day to come after school had already let out, but they weren’t really put out. Beth had asked them earlier in the day how their skip day was going, and they said, “Good. I’m not at school,” which I think was all that was required.

Last Week of School, Wednesday

We picked North up at school Wednesday afternoon because we had an appointment, and they had a gift bag. Four of their friends who are juniors had bought them a teddy bear wearing a mortarboard, a box of Sour Patch Kids, and a card. They seemed quite touched by this gesture.

The Naming of Cats, Part 2

That same day we heard from the shelter than Dawson had been adopted so we said we’d take one of the remaining female kittens in the litter and I immediately switched gears to my female-female name pairs. There were three: Amelia and Chelsea (after my two favorite Joni Mitchell songs), Chloe and Olivia (after a line in a Virginia Woolf essay), and Ruth and Naomi (after the Biblical characters, who are sometimes read as lesbians). North didn’t like any of them. But it turned out not to matter, because soon after we got that news, the man who was fostering the kittens said it was a mistake on the shelter’s part, that someone had considered Dawson but not taken him, so he was still available.

Last Week of School, Thursday

North left for school wearing a senior class t-shirt for Senior Spirit Week. They came home and reported they had successfully returned their chrome book and confirmed they had no outstanding debts to the school so they could graduate, after waiting in line for over an hour to do so. There were cupcakes in their math class.

After school, Beth and North went to PetSmart and came home with all manner of pet toys, including some from the Pride display. There was a rainbow-colored tunnel, three interlocking rainbow-striped arches made of cardboard for climbing and scratching, a ball track, and worms that dangle from a stick because the man who fostered them said it was their favorite. They also got the kind of food they’ve been eating and litter. We also ordered a cat tree with platforms and a cave and a ball on a string to bat.

Friday: Last Day of School and Kittens’ First Day Home

North wore their Oberlin t-shirt to school on the last day of school. In the early afternoon we had a phone call with the shelter to finalize the adoption paperwork and an hour later, we were picking North up at the bus stop, so we could go pick the kittens up from their foster home in College Park.

In the car North reported on their last day of school. Nothing academic happened except in Mythology, where they listened to the teacher read them a story about Gilgamesh. There was Italian ice in math class. They liked seeing where people were going to college on their shirts.

The kittens came right to us when their caregiver brought them out. They were curious and friendly, not shy at all, and they went into the carrier without much fuss. We marveled at how tiny there were. Matthew and Xander were twice as old (four months) when we got them, and they grew into very large cats, so they were big for their age and already looked half-grown when we adopted them.

I hadn’t gotten much work done that day but once we were home it was impossible to work. Obviously, we had to sit in the living room and watch the cats for the rest of the afternoon. They explored the living and dining room, jumped up onto whatever surfaces they could, nosed around under furniture and came out with dust on their whiskers. They liked all the toys and played energetically with them. They pounced on each other and wrestled and didn’t seem at all sore from their surgeries two days prior. When they discovered the basement steps they raced up and down them. (We’d wondered if they would be able to manage the stairs when we first saw them, but that worry was put to rest. It’s relevant because it’s where their food and litter will go, though we started off with it upstairs.)

After a few hours with them we decided Walter was the name that fit best. It was the only one that was either first or second on everyone’s list. I am pleased with how it alliterates with Willow, and I also like that it could be after Walt Whitman, since our first cat (who Beth got in college) was named Emily, after Emily Dickinson. I told the kids that Whitman and Dickinson were the two best nineteenth-century American poets. “And that’s a fact, not an opinion,” which made them both laugh.

“You have strong opinions about poetry,” North told me. But why wouldn’t I? I spent a big chunk of my twenties and thirties studying and teaching literature.

As for the final piece, Walter’s middle name is Matthias for Matthew. So, the names are Willow Alexandra and Walter Matthias. Willow is the one with the white markings. She looks a lot like Emily as a kitten and a bit like Uno, too, who is a tabby with a white chin, chest and feet.

Around five-thirty Beth drove North to school for Senior Sunset. It’s an end-of-year tradition that, along with Senior Sunrise, bookends the year. The kids sat out on the football field, socialized, signed each other’s yearbooks, and watched the sun set. Pizza, chips, and snow cones were served. It sounded like a nice, low-key event. North said it was fun, and they hung out mainly with other kids from the GSA.

The cats have been here for a full day now. They seem quite at home, not unsettled by the move at all. They will cuddle with us, but only briefly (unless they fall asleep) because they are quite busy playing with their toys and running around like maniacs. They are starting to meow more after being almost silent yesterday. From the night Uno sat in my lap to the day they moved in with us it was only two and a half weeks. And in less time than that, North will be leaving for the Girl Scout camp where they are spending the summer as a counselor. Part of the reason we hurried once we’d made a decision was so that they would have time to bond with the kittens before leaving for most of the summer.

So, all in one day, there was ending, of our time with kids in K-12 public schools, and a beginning, of our time with these kittens who will eventually be our empty nest cats. It makes me wonder about the future, what North’s college years will be like, what’s in store for Noah, and what the kittens’ adult personalities will be like.

Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly fly the years
One season following another
Laden with happiness and tears

Serial Celebrations

Posted on May 15, 2024 by Steph

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Celebration #1: Birthday

“It’s a good thing you’re coming,” I said to North as we walked out the door Saturday morning. “Because I love you and I enjoy your company, but also because I might need your help.” The point of the outing was to claim my birthday reward at Starbucks, and I sometimes have trouble figuring out how to redeem stars and rewards on the app and one kid or the other has to help me.

This time it was clear what I needed to do, however, so I didn’t need help and soon North and I were enjoying our drinks and pastries. I got a latte and a cake pop. I would have gotten the birthday cake pop because I can be literal like that, but they had a new flavor I wanted to try (orange) so I went with that. North had a nibble and said they liked it better than the pineapple cake they got. I tried North’s berry-flavored bubble tea, and I thought it tasted like cotton candy.

I left North sitting outside Starbucks while I walked several blocks to the library to return The Scarlet Letter, which I had just read for book club, and then I returned. On our way home we dropped off some children’s books at a Little Free Library. I am still distributing the books the kids culled from their rooms back in March. The supply in the cardboard box in the living room is slowly dwindling. It felt like a very productive morning walk.

After lunch, Noah and I read The Interestings, and then we all enjoyed the strawberry cake with lemon frosting Beth made at my request. (I remembered the lemon frosting on North’s birthday cake and how good it was.) It was excellent as Beth’s cakes always are.

I opened a couple presents—two kinds of nut butter from my sister (pistachio and lemon-cashew-coconut) and an Oberlin hoodie from Beth. I’d been saying for about a year that when North chose a college, I would replace the rather worse-for-the-wear WVU hoodie I’d been wearing since North was in kindergarten with one from their new alma mater. (Many members of Beth’s family went to WVU, and it was a present from her mom.) Earlier in the week I’d opened a card from Beth’s mom informing me a tree was being planted in a national forrest in my name. The kids got me one big gift for my birthday and Mother’s Day combined, and I’d elected to open it the next day. My birthday is always near Mother’s Day and this year it was the day before, so my birthday was just the first act of the weekend festivities.

After presents Noah and I watched an episode of Angel and then we surrendered the television to North who needed to watch Thor Ragnarok for their mythology class. They’d missed movies in two classes while taking the AP English exam the week before and they had to complete assignments on both, so we’d all watched The Judge with them the night before. That one was for their law class. You know it’s almost the end of the year when the teachers start showing a lot of movies.

I talked to my mom on the phone, and she told me I had two gifts coming. She didn’t tell me what the first one was because she thought it would come soon, but the second one wasn’t going to arrive until late May. I had a pretty good idea she had pre-ordered the latest Stephen King because I’d asked for it. She confirmed my suspicion.

We went out to dinner at El Golfo. I had the spinach enchiladas, which is what I always get there, and Beth and I split a dish of chocolate mousse. They had a nice set up for people to take Mother’s Day photos. When Noah asked who would be in the picture, I said just Beth and me.

“Are you a mother? No, you are not,” I said, but North pointed out that without the kids we would not be mothers, so we took one without the offspring and one with them.

At home, we watched Grownish and then my sister called shortly before Beth and I went to bed. And the first celebration was a wrap.

Celebration #2: Mother’s Day

North asked us ahead of time if we’d like breakfast in bed for Mother’s Day and we decided to eat it at the table instead, but they did make us both breakfast to order. I had fried eggs, vegetarian sausage patties, strawberries, and Red Zinger tea. It was luxurious to have a meal cooked just for me.

North was going to spend the afternoon and evening at Maddie’s, so they asked if I’d like to watch Emily in Paris in the morning. It seemed a good idea since Noah and I had watched our show the day before. When Beth got back from grocery shopping, we opened our Mother’s Day presents from the kids. Beth got six dark chocolate bars in different flavors from the kids, and I got a new purple backpack. My old backpack, which I think I’ve had since I stopped carrying a diaper bag, is developing a hole in the bottom, so I’d asked for one. (The surprise was the color—I gave the kids several options.) I haven’t actually started using it because I have to clean out the old one and transfer all the things that I carry in it to the new one. It’s kind of a rat’s nest in there, so that will be a project.

The kids’ next project was to start prepping for dinner. I’d asked Noah if he could cook dinner, since Saturday is his night, but we’d gone out to dinner, so he had not cooked, and Sunday is Beth’s night, and it didn’t seem right for her to have to cook. He agreed and asked her what she’d like, as I had chosen the restaurant the night before. She requested the vegetarian crab cakes he’d made once before. (The main ingredients are chickpeas, artichokes, and hearts of palm blended and fried). North volunteered to help even though they wouldn’t be home to eat them, which was just as well because they don’t like them. As it turned out, both kids had evening plans, so Beth would fry the cakes herself and roast asparagus to go with them.

Once the dough was made and stowed in the fridge, and Noah and I had read a half a chapter of The Interestings, Beth and I left to take North to Maddie’s and Noah headed off to his weekly game night at a Panera in Rockville. I went with Beth and North because Beth and I were taking a walk in Brookside Gardens. While we were there, we saw a wedding party, many families on Mother’s Day outings, and group of geese with three adults and a half-dozen or so half-grown goslings.

We came home, relaxed a little, and then Beth finished preparing the not-crab cakes and we had what she deemed “a romantic dinner” for two, before snuggling on the couch to watch Abbott Elementary and The Big Door Prize. It was a nice end to a weekend in which I spent time with the whole family, and alone with my firstborn, my youngest, and with the woman who has been with me for every step of this motherhood journey.

All For The Love Of You

A Chronicle of Suburban Lesbian Family Life

Author Archives: Steph

About Steph

Welcome Home, Obie

Between Camp and College

Reunited

Interlude

18 to 81, or Interesting Times

Comings and Goings

Summer’s Coming Around Again

Life is a Highway

Sunrise, Sunset

Serial Celebrations