The Seaside Reminds You

Posted on July 23, 2025 by Steph

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The seaside
Reminds you of
Where you’ve been

“The Seaside,” by Janis Ian

We just got back from a week in Rehoboth with extended family four days ago. We stayed in a house where we’ve stayed twice before, once in the summer of 2020 and again Thanksgiving that same year. Because of covid, houses were going for cheap then and we could afford a five-bedroom house a block from the beach for just the four of us. I am very fond of this house. I love the aqua-painted kitchen, the wood paneling on most of the rooms, the cathedral ceiling in the dining area, and the indoor balcony that overlooks part of the first floor. We missed our families so much during those visits, it was satisfying to be back with mine this year.

The house is full of memories of those covid-era visits. There were little things, like the hooks where we hung our masks, and bigger ones. During the summer one North was partially paralyzed and in a wheelchair. We’d rented the house before we knew that would be the case, and so every time we left or returned to the house, we had to lug the wheelchair up or down the four brick stairs that lead to the porch and then we had to help North pull themselves up those same stairs.

When we arrived on Saturday and were walking up those stairs, this memory hit me hard. I asked Beth how many days she thought it would take not to think of that summer five years ago every time we went up or down the stairs and she said probably longer than a week. She was right.

Saturday

But about this trip… we all arrived at the beach in the late afternoon, despite having very different journeys. We had a four-and-a-half-hour trek from Maryland to Delaware, with a return to our house in the first five minutes of the drive for forgotten items, a stop for lunch, and moderate traffic. My mom, sister Sara, brother-in-law Dave, and twelve-year-old niece Lily-Mei arrived at the beach house, having been travelling from California since the previous morning. They flew to Philadelphia, arriving in the middle of the night after a re-routed connection (changed from Chicago to Colorado) and stayed overnight there and slept most of the next morning before driving to the beach.

North and I took a walk on the beach before the party was complete and then after a dinner of burgers, hot dogs, corn, and watermelon (with many cooks pitching in), everyone but Lily-Mei went to the beach or boardwalk. I was in the beach contingent with my mom, sister, and Dave. We admired an elaborate sandcastle with a stairway carved out of it, an intricate clear and purple jellyfish washed up on the beach, and the pink-tinged sky over the ocean. We saw dolphins and pelicans and osprey. Sara had not intended to swim on this outing, but the water was warmer than usual (and even more so for those accustomed to the Pacific) and she couldn’t resist, so she stripped down to her bra and underpants and dove in. Later she explained she always matches these garments just in case such opportunity for spontaneous swimming arises, though it’s more often in lakes and rivers when she’s at home.

There was some commotion on the beach further north. We saw what looked like police car lights on the beach and more searchlights on two boats close to shore, plus there were helicopters in the sky. We later heard it was a rescue mission for a lost swimmer, a young man, and sadly he was not found. It would be a few days before his body was discovered by a kayaker.

Sunday

Sunday morning, I woke to a message from my health care practice, letting me know the second strep test was negative. I’d been wearing a mask around those who weren’t in my immediate family (and presumably not yet exposed to whatever I had) but after learning it wasn’t strep, I put it away. I still had the sore throat at that point, but it lessened over the course of the week and eventually went away (mostly).

I took a walk on the boardwalk, finding a shady place on a roofed concrete platform in front of a hotel where I could watch the ocean. It was a sunny day, and the sea sparkled. I was wearing North’s crocs because the bottom straps of one of my Teva’s had slipped out of the base of the shoe when I was a half block from the house. As the crocs were the only shoes they had, I’d promised to return in an hour. However, when I texted to ask if they’d rather have the shoes back at eleven or an iced chai from Café a Go-Go, they opted for the chai, so I stayed out a little longer. (I ended up wearing my Birks for the rest of the week, despite my qualms about wearing them on the beach and getting them wet.) I can’t complain about the Teva’s lack of durability, however. I got them on a trip to the Southwest with Beth in the mid-nineties.

Beth, North, and I went to the beach in the early afternoon. We all stood in the shallow water together for a while and then North and I went in deeper. The water was very calm and full of jellyfish. We kept seeing them and brushing up against them and even stepping on them (which is an unsettling feeling.) We never got stung that day, though we did get that itchy, prickly feeling you sometimes get after sharing the ocean with a lot of jellyfish. However, it was the first time I’d been in the ocean since last July and North did not get as much time in the water as they would have liked on their trip to the beach with friends in June, so neither of us wanted to get out.

North’s trip in June was a senior beach week for most of the participants, but it was not what you might expect of a senior beach week. There was a chaperone (an aunt), the kids were not allowed out after nine p.m., and they were not allowed to swim unless a lifeguard was on duty and the aunt was watching, too, and the aunt rarely wanted to go to the beach. North loves the water and being back at the beach seemed to be bringing their frustration with this situation back.

Back at the towel, I finished up my book club book and then dozed in the sun. After a little while, I heard a tween girl’s voice and thought sleepily to myself, that girl sounds like Lily-Mei, without thinking about the fact that we were expecting Sara, Dave, and Lily-Mei and I’d even been wondering what was taking them so long. Do you see where this is going? They’d had trouble finding us and had settled one lifeguard stand over and then when they finally did find us North had gone back to the house and Beth and I both appeared to be asleep, so they didn’t want to wake us. Lily-Mei had concerns about going in the water because of the jellyfish, so she didn’t, and she and Dave left—maybe to go to Funland—I wasn’t sure, and Beth left, too, but I had another short swim while Sara read.

Mom made ratatouille for dinner and after the dishes were done, everyone but Mom and Noah went to the boardwalk. Sara and her family were headed for the arcade games at Funland and Beth, North, and I were tasked by Mom to get fudge at Candy Kitchen. Beth and North got frozen custard, and I went ahead to Funland to see if I could find Sara and her family. We hadn’t been separated long but they had already won a stuffed animal. Lily-Mei is a whiz at these games. Beth and North caught up with us and we watched the three of them play for a bit before coming home.

Monday

The next morning, I could see the fruits of their labor on the couch. There were three stuffed animals, and one of them was a truly enormous yellow duck. Apparently, Lily-Mei won the ring toss. You know that game, the one that’s so hard to win most people think it’s rigged? (Every time I went by the ring toss for the next several days I’d stop to see if anyone won and I never saw anyone do it.)

Discussing it, my mom said, “She wins so much stuff.”

And Dave said, “Yeah, she’s lucky.”

And my mom gave the proper grandmotherly response, “No, it’s because she’s good at everything she does.”

Beth went kayaking that morning; I was home all morning unpacking (which I hadn’t done yet), reading with Noah, conferring with my sister about my mother’s birthday cake and calling to buy the cake, chopping parsley and scallions for dinner, and generally hanging out with people. North made a tomato-cucumber-mozzarella-pesto salad for lunch and there was enough for me.

North and I spent a long time in the ocean that afternoon. Noah joined us briefly at the beginning and Sara for a longer time later. There were fewer (almost no) jellyfish, but not much in the way of waves. Sara and I took a walk on the beach, discussing parenthood and friendships and other things and then I got myself a frozen custard on the boardwalk.

I came home from the beach a little early to lend Noah a hand with dinner. He was making vegetarian crab cakes, and I got there in time to help with the frying part of the operation. They were a big hit. Both Mom and Sara asked him for the recipe.

Tuesday

It was our anniversary, the summer one that commemorates our first date (in 1987), but neither of us remembered it until the night before. We knew we had an anniversary this week, we even had dinner reservations, we just made them for the wrong night. We decided to keep things as they were because other people had made plans around this timing.

We opted to have a mini date on our actual anniversary. Beth needed ingredients for the meal she was making that night, so we went to the farmers’ market and a cheese shop and then got beverages and pastries and took them to the boardwalk. While we were gone, in an attempt to be “the cool older cousin,” North took Lily-Mei out for coffee and they got jagua tattoos on their hands.

Then Sara, Dave, and Lily-Mei were shopping in downtown Rehoboth for a dress for Lily-Mei to wear to her parents’ covid-delayed wedding in September. (They got legally married the summer of 2020 but never had a wedding and decided to do it this year.) Mom took my kids out to a late lunch, and Beth was working and then starting dinner prep, so I went to the beach alone in the mid-afternoon. (Sara worked almost every day we were there, and Beth worked intermittently, too. I was the only non-retired adult who was completely on vacation during my vacation.)

Almost as soon as I got there, the lifeguards cleared the water because lightning had been sighted five miles away. About a half hour later, they cleared the beach. People were still allowed on the boardwalk, so I went to a pavilion and read on a bench for a couple hours. Eventually, the lifeguards went off duty and I considered my options. There were dark clouds to the west and sunny skies to the east. I had not seen any lightning in the two and a half hours I’d been on the beach and boardwalk. People were trickling back onto the beach and some into the water. I decided I’d split the difference and read on the beach but not risk a swim. I told Beth later I didn’t think she’d want me to get electrocuted on our anniversary. “Or any other day!” she exclaimed. As a result, I read two-thirds of a novel in a day, which is a real luxury for me, and I did it with an ocean view, so I can’t complain too much about not getting to swim that day.

I came back to Beth’s signature beach week dinner—gazpacho, salt-crusted potatoes with cilantro-garlic sauce, a cheese plate, bread, and olives. She put Spanish guitar music on for ambiance and served dark chocolate for dessert. This meal is always much anticipated and enjoyed by the beach house crew. I think there would be a revolt if she didn’t make it.

After dinner everyone but Beth, who does not care for scary movies, watched The Presence, but we had to fast-forward through a scene that was not age-appropriate for Lily-Mei and then later had to consult some online summaries to learn what happened and how the plot twist at the end worked. North figured it out without help and Dave objects to the logic, in ways I can’t explain without giving spoilers.

After Beth and I had gone to bed, there was a long discussion, led by Lily-Mei and later related to me by North, about the relative hotness of various celebrities. It started with Brad Pitt because some of the group was going to see the F1 movie the next day. My mom’s verdict: yes, very much so, especially about thirty years ago. Lily’s Mei’s: not now or then. Everyone else was in the middle or expressed no opinion. Then Sara, Dave, and Lily-Mei (who were all kind of still on West Coast time) went out to the boardwalk and brought home fudge and other candy.

Wednesday

I had lunch with my mom because a large portion of the crew (everyone but me and North and mom) was going to see the aforementioned F1 movie. We went to our usual spot, a boardwalk restaurant where most tables have an ocean view and where I indulge in one of my once or twice-yearly departures from vegetarianism to eat fried clams. Mom got a grilled cheese sandwich with crab. The food at this place is fine, but not outstanding. We mainly go for the view.

Once I was back from lunch, North and I went to the beach. We were in the water a little over a half hour and got out because we kept brushing up against jellyfish. There were more that day than any other so far and I got stung in more places than I realized until I got out of the water and saw the angry red marks on both thighs just above the knee, one ankle, one wrist, and one forearm. It barely hurt when it happened, but the stinging and redness got worse with time. (It still hurt when I went to bed, but by the next morning, I was fully recovered.)

Beth and I had our delayed anniversary date. We did not exchange presents because we are going to an Emmylou Harris and Graham Nash concert later this month and that is our present to each other. We did get cards. In fact, we picked out the exact same card from BrowseAbout. It has two starfish on the front and says, “It’s written in the stars. You were meant for each other.” We both crossed out “you” and replaced it with “we.” This is less of a coincidence than it sounds like for two reasons. First, while the store has a large selection of cards, I couldn’t find many anniversary cards. More importantly, Beth often gets me a card with star imagery for our anniversary because the summer were both twenty, thirty-eight years ago, she wished on a star for me to fall in love with her and I did.

We went out for tapas (asparagus, spinach-ricotta gnocchi, brie and fig wrapped in phyllo, and a salad with strawberries, watermelon, feta, and candied pecans, all excellent). We were seated next to a long table of at least ten lesbians who were either in late middle age or seniors. They were about to go to a play together and seemed in high spirits. I told Beth if we retired to Rehoboth, it might not be hard to find a friend group.

We followed dinner up with ice cream on the boardwalk. I decided to get cinnamon with churro bits to continue the Spanish theme. Beth was in the mood for brownie sundae, but we went to a few places and couldn’t find one, so she got coffee with hot fudge. I said I thought one kid or the other could be induced to make brownies when we got home and mentioned we still had sour cherries in the freezer for a topping. She was enthusiastic about this idea.

While we were on our date, everyone else went to trivia night at a gay bar in town. Apparently, they won a couple categories, because, according to my sister, her husband knows something about sports, and her daughter is a good guesser. Everyone was home when we got home, but Sara, Dave, and Lily-Mei returned to the bar later that evening for karaoke.

Thursday

Beth, my kids, my mom, and I went to Egg for breakfast, Sara’s crew having elected to sleep in instead. Noah and I did what we usually do on summer visits to Egg—got two orders of lemon curd-blueberry crepes—I eat a half an order, and he has one and a half. He loves crepes and I can manage about a half order of sweet ones without a blood sugar spike so it works out for both of us.

I left Egg on foot to go to BrowseAbout to get a gift certificate for my mom’s birthday and to pick up a book for myself, as I had almost finished both books I brought with me. When I got there, I discovered that I’d left my debit card in the pocket of the skirt I’d worn the day before, so I had to go home, get it and return. I stayed in the air-conditioned house long enough to fold a load of laundry. The day was the hottest of our trip (only high eighties but quite muggy). Still, I can’t really complain about the walk, a long portion of which is along the boardwalk. I even found some wild blackberries growing in the dunes and ate a few. (I had no idea blackberry bushes could grow in sand.)

When I got back it was almost noon, and the house was quiet as Sara and Dave had taken all our offspring to Jungle Jim’s waterpark. I stayed in the house to blog and when they returned and had eaten a late lunch, North and I went to the beach.

If you’re wondering if we went into the water, you don’t know either of us very well. I did decide I’d take just a quick dip, but the waves were better than they’d been all week (though still not as big as I’d like) so then I decided I would stay in until I touched a jellyfish, but I ended up staying in for a half hour and getting almost as many stings as the day before. “Same time tomorrow?” North joked as we were getting out of the water and I was assessing the damage.

Some of the lifeguards had a vinegar solution so you could spray on stings, and I did and initially I didn’t think it helped much but the stings didn’t hurt for as long as the day before, so I guess it did. North, whose suit protects them better than mine, got back in the water for a little longer and then we both read on the beach until biting flies drove North back to the house. I had my legs wrapped in my towel and that mostly foiled them, but I followed soon after. I showered, read with Noah, and then returned to the pavilion to get a little more beach time without getting sandy or bitten again.

Dinner was spring rolls, made by Sara and Dave. They made them the last time they came to the beach, three years ago, and they may have found their own signature beach meal. (Once you find a meal that works for four vegetarians, one diabetic, one person with a gluten sensitivity, and a few picky eaters, you tend to stick with it.) Sara played Thai music because she said she was not going to be outdone by Beth when it came to ambiance.

We visited the boardwalk after dinner, got ice cream, and went to Funland. By this time, Sara had convinced a somewhat reluctant Lily-Mei that the big stuffed duck could not come home with them on the plane. I suggested leaving it in the house as a surprise for the next renters, but Sara thought the cleaning crew would throw it away, so she and Lily-Mei came up with the idea of taking it to the boardwalk and giving it away to another kid. They decided to go back to the ring toss, on the assumption that any parents who allowed their child to try it were willing to bring home an enormous prize.

I had some unvoiced doubts. What if the parents were assuming there was no way their kids could win the ring toss and that was the very reason they let them do it? Or what if a child who had failed to win would be uninterested in an unearned prize? But we went ahead and watched as the first person I’d seen win the ring toss all week did so. We watched the next contestant, a girl who was probably around seven years old. She did not win. When Sara asked her dad if his daughter could have the duck, he was very grateful and the girl flashed an enormous gap-toothed smile and said, “Thank you so much!” So that worked out well.

At Funland, Sara, Dave, and Lily-Mei rode the Viking ship while my kids rode the Paratrooper, a fast-moving, direction-switching Ferris Wheel. (Beth had peeled off to play Skee ball and my mom had headed home.) Then Noah went home and the remaining five of us went in the Haunted Mansion. We all tried to make funny faces when the camera for the souvenir photo went off. After all these years, I’m still not exactly sure where it is, so I had to do it several times before I saw the flash. The pictures turned out well. Sara and I went home after that, leaving Dave, North, and Lily-Mei to ride more rides.

One thing we didn’t do on Thursday is attend a Good Trouble rally, even though there was one in Lewes, which is just north of Rehoboth. I had thought it might be nice to go to a protest all together as Mom and Sara’s family are no strangers to them, but by the time I started thinking seriously about it, the week had filled up with planned activities and I didn’t want to try to reorganize the schedule to fit in one more thing. I have some mild regret about this, as I haven’t been to a protest now in over a month.

Speaking of politics, over the course of the week I noticed that the t-shirt shops all over town that have been carrying copious pro- and anti-Trump merchandise every summer since the 2016 election, suddenly had almost no shirts with political messages. I am not sure what to make of it, but it reminds me of how the Trump signs mostly disappeared from the red counties of western Maryland, western Pennsylvania, and Ohio between our drive in February to take North to school and the drive in May to bring them home.

Friday

Friday was such a busy day, I barely made it to the beach. In the morning North and I went to Café a Go-Go which we had not yet patronized together. We got drinks and split a slice of tres leches cake.

When I got home, I ran errands with Sara and Lily-Mei. We picked up another dress that Lily-Mei had her eye on for much of the week and had finally decided to buy with her own money. It was a shiny, silver sleeveless gown. It looked like something you might wear to the prom, but she was planning to wear it to my mom’s birthday dinner and the next school dance she attends.

Speaking of my mom’s birthday, the next two errands were to pick up her cake from the bakery and some ice cream from a convenience store. The cake was lemon with vanilla frosting and raspberry filling.

Once I got home, I took off again with my kids for a pizza lunch at Grotto’s. We would not be having our normal Friday night pizza, so we did lunch instead. Then we met up with Sara and Beth so Noah could take a picture of Beth, Sara, North, and me (the four Obies in the group) in front of the sign for a restaurant that’s called Obie’s by the Sea.

We came home, ate cake, and mom opened her presents. In addition to the gift certificate, she got jewelry and a diamond shaped piece of glass with pressed flowers inside to hang in a window. She seemed pleased with everything.

Next, Sara drove Mom to the bookstore to pick out some books while North and I made the briefest trip to the beach yet. We only swam twenty minutes, but the jellyfish were still there, so I didn’t mind the abbreviated swim much. Sara had asked Beth earlier if she thought North and I might prefer the Delaware Bay since Beth had not seen any jellyfish while kayaking there, and she said, “I will answer for my wife. No.” It’s true. I like swimming in bays fine, but it’s not the ocean. Nothing else is and I am not the ocean’s fair-weather friend. And, as I learned later, the bay is full of jellyfish this month, too.

We headed back to the house, showered, and went to my mom’s birthday dinner at a Japanese restaurant. We decided to take just one car because parking in Rehoboth is challenging. Beth, Noah, and I walked. (Between walking to coffee, lunch, the beach, and dinner, I ended up with over 20,000 steps that day.)

The restaurant is one we’ve been to as a group a few times before and a hit with our hard-to-accommodate crew. Mom got the seafood pasta she often gets. I got seaweed salad, edamame with Old Bay, and vegetable tempura. It was delicious as usual.

That night everyone but Beth and me (the early birds) went to a drag show at the same bar where they’d previously been to trivia night and karaoke. Mom had never been to a drag show, and she enjoyed it, especially when one of the drag queens asked if anyone had a birthday and she got to go up on stage and dance and collect money from patrons of the bar. She said it was “the greatest birthday ever.”

Saturday

We packed up the house in the morning. It was a little more stressful for me than usual because I’d slept poorly and being tired made our many belongings all over the house and every little decision about what food to try to fit in the cooler, what to throw out, and what to pawn off on someone else feel overwhelming. Beth and Noah drove to the realty to return the keys and everyone else lingered on the porch for a while to say our goodbyes after the house was locked. The West Coast relatives were headed to Philadelphia where everyone except Sara would be getting on a flight back to California. Sara is staying on the East Coast for another week, to visit my cousin Holly in northeast Pennsylvania.

My family didn’t leave right away though. We rarely do. Beth and Noah got cold beverages and found a shady place to read while North and I paid a visit to the beach. I finally got the idea to wear a long-sleeved t-shirt in the water to protect my arms from jellyfish stings. North’s suit, which only exposes their hands, feet, and lower calves had protected them relatively well all week. They had almost no stings. It worked, though my legs still got some bad stings behind each knee. We ended up exiting the water after less than a half hour, even though it was our last chance to swim in the ocean until next summer and the waves were a little bigger than they’d been most of the week. North spotted a dolphin for the first time that week, so that was nice.

North and I split up briefly. I took a short walk on the boardwalk and then popped into the tea and spice shop to stock up on my favorite teas and North got a takeout order of grilled cheese and fries for lunch. We all met up at the crepes stand, Noah bearing more fries, and we got crepes and orangeade. Even though I was sad to leave the beach (as always), sitting in the shade after a swim, eating our traditional last-day-at-the-beach lunch with my little family of four, I felt the stress of the morning packing rush melt away.

We made one last trip to the beach to put our feet in the water and got our last frozen custard. Soon we would hit the road (with a quick stop at a Crocs outlet) for a relatively traffic-free, intermittently rainy drive that would turn into challengingly heavy rain at the end. Back at home, two affectionate cats, many new blooms in the garden, a day of post-beach chores, and the rest of the summer awaited us.

(Almost) Perfect Days

Posted on May 18, 2025 by Steph

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Oh, it’s such a perfect day
I’m glad I spend it with you
Oh, such a perfect day

You just keep me hangin’ on
You just keep me hangin’ on

Just a perfect day, problems all left alone
Weekenders on our own, it’s such fun

From “Perfect Day” by Lou Reed

Friday

The night before we left to pick North up from school, I made pizza with broccoli, and we watched Perfect Days. The film tells the story of a middle-aged man who cleans public toilets in Tokyo and his ability to take pleasure in the little things in life. Of course, it’s not that simple. We learn obliquely that he has a traumatic past, which could explain his insistence on order and his ascetic way of life. There’s a lot of American music from the 70s and 80s in the film and it takes its name from the Lou Reed song. I recommend it, if it sounds like your kind of movie.

Saturday

Beth and I set out for Oberlin around 10:15. Noah was staying at home because he was going to attend a town meeting hosted by Zeteo from MSNBC with Senator Chris Van Hollen and others to discuss the current political situation on Monday evening. I was a little sad we were going to be separated on Mother’s Day and my birthday (which fell on the same day this year), but I also didn’t want to discourage him from being politically active, so I didn’t press him to come.

On the drive we started with music and Beth chose Lou Reed’s Transformer (the album with “Perfect Day” on it) because the movie had put her in the mood. We also listened to eight out of the nine episodes of a podcast called Let’s Make a Rom-Com, about writers collaborating on, you guessed it, a rom-com pitch. It was light and more diverting than talking about politics, which is what we might have done left to our own devices. We stopped for a late lunch of salads at Next Door, a vegetarian-friendly restaurant in Bedford, Pennsylvania that may be becoming our go-to lunch-on-the-way-to-Oberlin spot, followed by gelato, and arrived in Oberlin around dinner time.

We found North sitting on the grass in front of Keep with people eating leftover wedding cake from wedding-themed party that had recently happened there. North had skipped dinner to go out for Chinese with us. After dinner we dropped them back off at Keep and settled into our rental house.

Sunday

Sunday was my birthday and Mother’s Day. We’d chosen to take a day trip to Put-in-Bay, an island in Lake Erie Beth and I once visited in college and where she’d also been as a child with her family. It’s a place Beth and I remember fondly.

We’d resolved to try to have a politics-free day, and we mostly did, though we slipped up a few times. This one didn’t count, though, we decided. In the ferry parking lot, the attendant asked us about the message “No Kings. June 14” Beth had written on the back window of the car with washable paint. (She’s been keeping it updated with the names and dates of whatever the next big national protest is.) We’d been a little nervous driving through Western Maryland, Western Pennsylvania, and Ohio with this on the car, but no one said a thing about it up to now. (Interestingly, I’d noticed there were dramatically fewer Trump yard signs, flags, and billboards compared to the last time we made this drive, in early February. The change was especially notable in Pennsylvania.) Beth told the attendant about the protest, and he said, “Is that the day he’s having his stupid parade?” So, that was a satisfying exchange.

You are discouraged from bringing cars on the island and there are golf carts you can rent, so we did that. It was fun riding in an open-sided vehicle along the roads. The day was cool (with highs in the fifties) but sunny so it wasn’t too cold. Our first stop was a short wildflower trail. There was an informative sign at the beginning so we could identify May apples, Jack in the Pulpit, blue phlox, and other blooms.

Next, we had lunch on the patio of a restaurant in town. I got a vegetable crepe for my meal and split a chocolate-peanut butter one with Beth for dessert. The wildflower trail had been both my and Beth’s first priority, so our next stop was North’s—Crystal Cave. We knew the cave purports to have the world’s largest geode, though North looked it up and found a cave in Spain says the same thing, so who knows? In any case, it contains a very large geode. In fact, the whole cave is the geode. A dozen or so people can stand inside it and walk around, and it looks just as you would imagine such a thing would look. It was very cool.

We decided to visit the butterfly house next. It’s a greenhouse filled with hundreds of butterflies, and it had just opened for the season, so there were a lot of butterflies hatching in nursery you could see through a window. North got to release a newly hatched one from a plastic cup. It wasn’t quite ready to fly, so it fell to the ground, but it wasn’t hurt, just sat there, gently stretching its wings. The butterflies were all different colors and sizes and very beautiful.

We took another short trail to a cliff overlook and then went to visit the old lighthouse before we got on the ferry to go back to the mainland.

Right near the ferry, there was a store called Cheese Haven, advertising that it sold 125 kinds of cheese, so we felt obliged to go inside and buy some (a big hunk of Parmesan, brick, and smoked Swiss) and to get some candy and raspberry-cheesecake fudge, too. Beth had been looking for strawberry fudge all day because we both remember having excellent strawberry fudge at Put-in-Bay. On consideration, Beth thought we might have actually gotten it on a different, nearby island. It is difficult to recreate memories from almost forty years ago, but we had a truly lovely day, and we made some new memories with North.

Back in Oberlin, I opened birthday and Mother’s day presents (though I was saving my cake for later at home) and we had Mexican for dinner and then went to Dairy Queen. It was packed and I have never seen so many employees behind a fast-food counter. There were so many they seemed to be trying not to get in each other’s way, but they also seemed quite cheerful. I wondered if the store was training all its new employees for the season. Anyway, the line was long, but it moved quickly, and no one seemed impatient. The atmosphere was more festive than harried.

Monday

Monday morning was North’s acting class showcase. The students were divided into seven groups with two to three actors in each and each group performed a scene from a play. They were all well done. The first one, about a married couple splitting up, seemed like it could have been a one act, but the others were clearly parts of something larger and left you curious about how the play unfolded.

North had a comic role, a thirty-something man high on mushrooms. (I asked if they did any extracurricular research for the part, but they said no.) I always like seeing North on stage and they shone. Afterward, the professor said to us, “Wasn’t North great?” and what parent is going to disagree with that?

North had three take-home finals but they’d finished them early so when the showcase was over, so was their first year of college. We had lunch at Keep (a tasty tofu scramble with sautéed carrots and zucchini, rice, and mini cinnamon muffins) which we ate on the porch. North’s friend Cal came over to eat with us and North asked the assembled diners to sing “Happy Birthday” to me, even though it wasn’t my birthday anymore.

They spent the afternoon packing up and cleaning their room, and after we helped them load everything into the car, we had a picnic dinner on Lake Erie. We got takeout from The Root Café, a hippie sort of vegetarian place. After we ate, we walked on a path near the water. You could see the Cleveland skyline across the lake. There were a lot of people walking on the path and North said they felt like a character in Bridgerton, taking a promenade. From there we got ice cream and drove back to Oberlin. North spent the night in our rental house because their room was vacated and cleaned.

Tuesday

Tuesday morning North attended another acting class showcase to see a friend of their perform in an abbreviated version of Chekhov’s The Seagull. It was a little before lunchtime when we left Oberlin. It was a long, rainy, traffic-stalled ride home. We had lunch at a highway rest stop and dinner at a dinner in Western Maryland. When we got home, North was reunited with the cats—Willow initially ran down to the basement on seeing them but soon remembered who they were—and their brother who had been saving funny memes on his phone to show them.

I had a very nice birthday weekend. I can’t say they were perfect days because I was separated from one of my kids on Mother’s Day, but it was nice to reunite with North in a special place and then it was nice to be back home and all together again for the summer.

Plus, my birthday celebration was not over…

The Three Rs: Four Rallies, A Road Trip, and a Little Romance

Posted on February 16, 2025 by Steph

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The first half of February was crazy busy. In different combinations, the three of us went to four protests, all of us took a road trip to Oberlin to see North perform in a play, and we celebrated Valentine’s Day. Settle in, this is a long one.

Rallies 1 and 2: Treasury and Department of Labor

The first Tuesday in February, Beth, Noah, and I all went to a protest outside the Treasury Department. That was when Musk and his youthful minions were rummaging around your personal financial information at that department. It was a much bigger rally than the one outside the White House the week before. I’m no good at estimating crowd sizes, but it filled the street and sidewalks for a long block in front of the Treasury Building and we were packed in tightly. I later learned a lot of people I know were there, but I didn’t see them at the time.

A lot of members of Congress spoke, but I couldn’t always hear the introductions. You could tell when Representative Jamie Raskin and Senator Elizabeth Warren were about to speak, though, because people chanted their names enthusiastically. I thought the best line was about the government being run by a “billionaire boy band,” but I’m not sure who said it, possibly Senator Chris Van Hollen, which was interesting because I don’t think of him as a wit.

There were a lot of American flags in the crowd. This has been true at nearly every protest so far. I like the idea of not ceding symbols of patriotism to the right. We could see workers inside the building, watching us from various windows. A woman near me gave them the finger emphatically and repeatedly, and I wished she hadn’t because there are still career civil servants who haven’t been fired yet working there and who knows what they were thinking? In fact, at one point, a woman in the window waved at the crowd.

The next day Beth went to another protest at the Department of Labor. I couldn’t make that one, as I had a work deadline, or I thought I couldn’t. The FAQs I was writing for a supplement company didn’t take as long as I thought they would, but by the time I knew that it was too late.

Where it Stands: A federal judge has blocked DOGE access at Treasury and then extended the block, but another judge allowed access at Labor, Health and Human Services, and the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau.

Road Trip: Friday

Two days later, on the first Friday in February, Beth, Noah, and I drove to Oberlin for a quick weekend trip. The play North had been rehearsing all Winter Term was being performed that weekend—five shows from Friday night to Sunday afternoon. We had tickets for the Saturday evening performance. And because North would be also performing at a matinee that afternoon, they encouraged us to go see another play, one they’d auditioned for and could not attend because it had the exact same performance schedule as theirs. So, the plan was to drive up Friday, see the two plays Saturday, visit with North during the little slices of time they had between performances, and to drive back on Sunday.

It took us nine hours to drive to Oberlin, with frequent stops, including one for lunch at a very nice vegetarian-friendly restaurant in Bedford, Pennsylvania, which we hope to visit again. Early in the drive we listened to music, jazz I think, and talked about the sad state of our country, just long enough to get it out of our systems before we switched over to vacation mode. We listened to podcasts for the rest of the drive, alternating between Let’s Make A Sci Fi, which is about three writers collaborating on a science fiction television series pilot, and two different podcasts about Severance, which the three of us are watching together. These were good, diverting choices, if you have a road trip coming up and they sound up your alley.

There weren’t a lot of Trump signs in Western Maryland, even though that part of the state did go for him, or in Ohio, which also did, but Western Pennsylvania was awash in them, both billboards and yard signs. (Last week I ran into my friend Becky, who was about to take a trip to her hometown in North Carolina, and she and I talked about how it’s in some ways a relief to drive away from the D.C. area where the horrors are taking place and in some ways it’s not, because, depending on your route, you may see ample evidence that people voted for those horrors, whereas in D.C. and its suburbs, few people did.)

We arrived in Oberlin about six-thirty, which was after North’s call time, so we didn’t see them that night. We got pizza from Lorenzo’s, the only restaurant in Oberlin from Beth’s and my era that’s still open, and we ate in our rental house and watched Severance. It was the fourth episode, the very dramatic one that takes place at the company’s outdoor retreat.

Road Trip: Saturday

We met North for breakfast at the Feve, which is famous for its pancakes. I’d eaten an egg and some vegetarian sausage at the house, so I took a risk on a chocolate-strawberry pancake. It was huge and my blood sugar went a bit higher than I would have liked, but we were on vacation.

At the table, we presented North with two tote bags, full of gifts—dried mango, white chocolate-strawberry truffles (an early Valentine’s present), and Valentines from all of us and the cats—plus several boxes of tea we were donating to Keep after a cabinet re-organization Noah recently undertook. I think they were most excited about the mango. They ate nearly the whole bag over the course of the day. We also had two slices of anniversary cake we’d frozen for them, but we didn’t give them those until later.

We stopped at the mail room to get some medications that had arrived and then took them back to the house to hang out until their call-time. They ate leftover cheesy garlic bread and some apple. After we dropped them off at the student union, where the play was being performed, Beth and I went to find a bouquet for them. There was a gift shop downtown that sold flowers, and we got them six purple roses.

We had leftover pizza for lunch, and we read (me and Noah) and worked (Beth), and I took a walk down a bike path in the neighborhood where Beth had walked before breakfast and recommended. There were woods, a park, and houses’ back yards on either side, and it was a pleasant place to walk.

Later that afternoon we went to see Wolf Play, which won a prize (confusingly called an Obie) for off-Broadway performances in 2023. It’s about a lesbian couple who informally adopt a six-year-old Korean boy whose first set of adoptive parents relinquish him and then there’s a custody battle when the first adoptive couple splits, and the father decides he wants the boy back. The boy believes he is a wolf (or maybe just pretends to be) and is played by an adult actor who is manipulating a child-sized puppet and who speaks both his thoughts and his words. It was very well done.

We re-united with North after their performance. Beth picked them up and they got a noodle bowl at the student union, which they ate at the house, along with more mango. After we dropped them off at the student union, we got takeout Middle Eastern food for dinner and ate it before going to see North’s play.

Deficiency was student written and this was its debut. It’s about three brothers (two in high school and one in college) who are at their alcoholic father’s house for spring break. Unbeknownst to each other, all the brothers are all taking testosterone for different reasons and there is confusion and conflict when a package containing some arrives from their mother’s house. North was playing the middle brother, a trans boy, and their performance was comic, serious, and tender in turn. It was wonderful to see them on stage and in a more substantial role than they’ve had for a long time.

Road Trip: Sunday

There was snow and an ice storm overnight and Sunday morning freezing rain was falling and it was extremely slippery outside. We had breakfast, packed up the house, and then I went for a rather treacherous and much shorter walk down the same path where I’d walked the day before. We picked North up at Keep and dropped off the cake. The Christmas tree was still up in the lounge. I was charmed by paper snowflakes in the windows surrounding a “Free Palestine” sign, I think because it made me think about what it’s like to be in college, close enough to your childhood to make paper snowflakes, but old enough to be politically engaged.

We went to Slow Train, which is North’s favorite place to get coffee in Oberlin, to get coffee, hot chocolate, and pastries (I got a spinach-cheese croissant). We lingered because it was hard to leave after such a short and fragmented visit, but eventually we said our goodbyes and dropped North off at Keep just in time for a lunch cooking shift before their last show, and hit the road.

The trip back was a little faster partly because we had lunch at a Noodles & Company, with a stop at The Milkshake Factory, instead of a sit-down restaurant. We listened to the same podcasts as on the way out, and got home around dinner time, so we picked up Indian to take home.

Rallies 3 and 4: Capitol and D.C. Attorney General’s Office

Two days after we got back, there was a rally in front of the Capitol, organized by the American Federation of Government Employees, which was holding its annual conference in D.C., so the focus of this one was to support federal employees. I met Beth at her office and walked down to the Capitol with about a dozen of her co-workers. As at Treasury, there were a lot of speeches by members of Congress (including both our senators) and a lot of American flags. I was given a small one, which I put in the buttonhole of my coat, along with a button that said, “Public Workers Work for Me!”

Where it Stands: Mass layoffs are in progress.

That week I was writing a one-thousand-word article on arnica, due Thursday afternoon, so I thought the AFGE rally would be my only outing into the city, but on Thursday morning around 9:20, Beth texted me to say there was a rally in support of trans youth at noon. Sara had already told me that if I really needed more time, I could send the article to her Friday morning and just I couldn’t skip that one, so I decided to go.

The rally was to urge the D.C. Attorney General to direct hospitals in the city not to deny gender-affirming care to trans youth. States attorneys general and hospitals across the country that provide this kind of care have had different interpretations of the executive order and different responses. In short, it’s not clear if it’s binding or even legal.

Disappointingly, Children’s National Medical Center, where North has received care, decided to stop prescribing puberty blockers and hormones (they never did surgeries on minors) but to continue with psychological and psychiatric care. Since appointments with a psychiatrist are the only kind of gender-related care North currently receives there, they are not directly affected, but it hits close to home anyway. (For a while, they were taking birth control to suppress their period, partly for dysphoria reasons, but there were other medical reasons, so it’s unclear if they still had the prescription if it would have been cut off, but it’s possible it would have been if the words “gender” or “dysphoria” were anywhere in the paperwork.)

I met Beth at her office, and we walked to the A.G.’s office. This was a smaller protest, because it’s a niche issue, compared to some of the others, but it was quite spirited. There were speakers (the mother of a trans girl, someone from an organization that works with trans youth, a doctor from George Washington Hospital who provides trans health care and who threw some shade at Children’s, etc.). Between speeches, we marched in a picket-style oval in front of the building and chanted. “A.G. Schwalb, do your job!” was the most common one. A reporter from the Washington Post talked to Beth and me, but I didn’t get the impression she was going to quote us because we don’t have a kid who is currently being denied care. Anyway, she didn’t take our names.

The rally got started late and Beth had to leave about a half hour after it did, but I stuck around for another forty minutes or so. Someone else who had to leave gave me her hand-painted “Protect Trans Futures” sign, which I decided to keep, as I may need it again. As always, a lot of people had homemade signs. I thought “Trans Kids Deserve to Be Trans Adults” was the most moving. I also liked the one that said, “Trans Rights. Trans Joy. All Day. Every Day” with what looked like blue and pink conversation hearts in the background. I thought that was a nice, seasonal touch.

Where It Stands: A federal judge has temporarily blocked the order restricting gender-affirming care for trans youth. And then another one did the same thing.

It’s important to note, there are losses in this round-up, but there are also wins. If you are going to protests or calling your representatives or giving money to organizations fighting for our democracy, please keep it up. It can feel overwhelming and hopeless at times, but I am trying hard to believe that it’s not.

Romance

Life does go on, outside politics. Our Valentine’s Day was low-key, but we did celebrate. Noah made a chocolate banana bread, with vertical slices of banana baked into the top. The banana strips were pleasingly sweet and chewy. Meanwhile, I fashioned our regular Friday night pizza into a rough heart shape, and we exchanged small gifts, all food. Beth got me a very thoughtful little bag of diabetes-friendly treats—some single-serve nut butters (walnut and pecan), an unsweetened raspberry-cashew dark chocolate bar, and some tiny paleo pies (lemon and key lime with coconut-nut crusts). Noah got dark chocolate caramel hearts, and Beth got dark chocolate hearts and dark chocolate-covered orange peel sticks.

I picked up that last item at a fancy chocolate store in Union Station on the way home from the AFSGE rally. Even as we are focused on justice, we can’t forget to take time for our little joys along the way.

First Steps

Posted on January 6, 2025 by Steph

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North is back at school. While I was cooking dinner on New Year’s Eve and listening to Roseanne Cash sing “Everyone But Me,” the line “It goes by real fast” jumped out at me. I thought of the kids’ childhoods, of course, but more immediately, North’s three-week break.

The first two days we were home from the beach North was wiped out by a cold—they tested for covid, and it was negative—and they spent those days mostly in bed. By Monday they’d recovered enough to take a short walk with me to Koma and get a chai (them) and a latte (me). On Tuesday, they delivered a tin of homemade Christmas sweets to Maddie and Miles and spent most of the afternoon at the twins’ house. Then Noah and North stayed up to see in the New Year, finishing a season of Queen’s Gambit, and consuming a lot of snacks while they waited for midnight. Meanwhile, I’d caught North’s cold, and Beth and I were abed by 9:45. If I could have roused myself from the couch—where I was feeling sick and listless—I would have gone to bed earlier.

New Year’s Day: First Hike

On New Year’s Day Beth and I went on a Maryland State Parks First Day hike, as we often do. I was quiet in the car on the way to Merkle Natural Resources Management Area. I was still sick and fatigued. Also, the persistent dread I’d been feeling since the election, which lessened a little over the holidays, was settling back down around me, if anything worse than before because it was finally 2025. After hearing so much about Project 2025 for so long, the very name of the year sounds menacing and dystopian. Is that going to wear off?

But we got there, and we took the hike, and it was nice to be walking outdoors, and it lifted my spirits a little. It almost always does. The park is a Canada goose sanctuary. Some geese live there year-round, but most of them winter there from October to March. We saw a lot of geese on the drive to the parking lot and hundreds more in the fields surrounding the visitors’ center, but we didn’t see any on the actual hike, because it was mostly on a wooded trail, and they prefer water and open fields.

The ranger pointed out a beaver dam and beaver-gnawed trees and identified tree species as we walked past streams and ponds and a heap of garbage that he said was eighty to a hundred years old. There was an upside-down car, what looked like an oil tank, some appliances, something made of porcelain that might have been part of a sink or a toilet, and what I think was the torso of a rocking horse. There was also the rusted frame of a banana-seat bike, which made Beth speculate some of the trash was from after the 1940s. After the hike we went into the visitors’ center and watched turtles swimming in a tank. It was the first day I was wearing my new Fitbit, and it was novel and interesting to have something counting my steps and zone minutes again after an almost six-month break from that.

Back at home, we had a lunch of fancy cheeses, crackers, fruit, and sparkling juice. This is another New Year’s tradition for us. And I made black-eyed peas for dinner because there is no way I am skimping on luck this year.

Thursday to Sunday: First Road Trip

Thursday morning, we hit the road for Oberlin. The drive took eight and half hours and we passed the time with music and podcasts (a couple episodes of Handsome and one each of Normal Gossip and Where Should We Begin). Somewhere in Western Pennsylvania I fell asleep and when I opened my eyes the first thing that I saw was a sign that said, “Trump. Fuck Your Feelings,” so that was a rude awakening… literally.

We arrived in Oberlin around six. We dropped North’s things off at their new, possibly temporary, first-floor single room in Keep, which they requested because it was empty for Winter Term and it’s easier for them not to have to climb two flights of stairs. We helped them move some of their stuff down from their third-floor room into the first-floor room.

It’s still trippy for me to be in Keep, where I lived for a year and a half. To intensify that feeling, North’s new room used to belong to my sophomore year boyfriend, so I once spent a lot of time in it. I also spied a picture of myself North added to the “Keeple of the Past” display, a collage of photos of people who once lived in Keep. Can you spot me? The Christmas tree was still up in the lounge, and we noticed the ornaments we gave North over Thanksgiving on it.

We went out for Thai at a very festive-looking restaurant, all strung with colored lights. I got a green curry the waitress warned me was hot and she did not lie. I ate all the tofu and vegetables, but I had to leave half the broth, and it got my nose running and knocked all my congestion loose. Beth said that was good for me and maybe it was because the next day my cold was almost gone.

North came back with us to our Air BnB, took a shower, and hung out for a little while and then Beth drove them back to Keep for their first night in their new room.

Friday morning, we woke to a couple inches of snow on the ground and snow falling through the air. It wasn’t a surprise, it had been forecast, but Beth was delighted anyway (even though now she had the cold we were all passing around). We’d had flurries a few times at home and a dusting of snow over Thanksgiving weekend in Wheeling, but no accumulation anywhere we’ve been this fall and winter so far. After breakfast we walked through the snow to CVS to get a comb since Beth had forgotten hers and vitamin D and magnesium because I’d forgotten mine. Then we met up with North for warm beverages and pastry at their favorite coffeeshop in Oberlin.

We had a busy morning and early afternoon. We took North to two different grocery stores to stock up on fresh and dried fruit, olives, bagels, cream cheese, yogurt, cereal, milk, and frozen foods. Keep’s kitchen will be closed over Winter Term so North will be living there but eating in a different co-op and it seemed like a good idea to have some food on hand where they live. This was in addition to the tote bag full of instant oatmeal, hot chocolate mix, toaster pastries, and popcorn we had presented them with before we left home. I don’t think they will starve, even though their play rehearsal schedule may cause them to miss meals sometimes. After the first grocery store, it was snowing so hard there were almost white-out conditions, and we had to stop at Keep so we could wait out the squall before proceeding to the second store.

Next, we took a walk in the arboretum. I promised Beth I would not break up with her there. It’s an old joke—I once took a “yes, we are really breaking up” letter from a quite recent ex-boyfriend there to read and I broke up with two other boyfriends there in person, so it does have a break-up vibe for me, but it’s a pretty place and I do have other memories associated with it. The reservoirs were partly frozen, and the snow was lovely on the tree branches and cattails. We were all rather cold after that walk, though, so it was nice to warm up with a tasty lunch of Mexican food.

We picked up some medications that had arrived at the mail room for North. Beth and I walked a little more on campus after that, passing by Noah Hall—it wouldn’t be a trip to Oberlin without at least walking by the dorm where we met—and then we picked North up at Keep and drove the building where their first rehearsal was starting at two, and we hit the road for Wheeling.

It was sad to leave North, of course, but happy at the same time because I think they’re going to have a good Winter Term. I always loved Winter Term, being able to focus on one intensive class or project for four weeks before the spring semester. Rehearsing a play seems like a perfect project and we’ll be back in Oberlin in a month to see it performed.

The snow was heavy and blowing across the road at the beginning of the drive, but it cleared up, and we got to Wheeling around 5:15. We were staying at a hotel that night because Beth’s brother and his wife were at her mom’s house. They’d been there for Christmas and had gotten sick with norovirus and had to extend their stay because they were too sick to fly. They had since recovered and were leaving early the next morning. After Beth and John consulted with each other on the phone they decided not to visit with each other, just in case John and Abby were still contagious. Beth and I brought pizza back to the hotel room and had a quiet evening—she read, and I wrote much of this.

Saturday morning, it was quite cold, in the teens, so Beth didn’t want to go out with wet hair, and we stayed in the hotel room until it was dry. We ran some errands and then arrived at her mom’s house in the late morning. We all sat in her mom’s bedroom, and she caught us up on various members of the extended family, who was doing well and who wasn’t. It made me think how people’s lives are kind of like a microcosm of a family’s or even a nation’s life, alternating good times and bad times, always a mix of both, even as the ratio shifts.

Beth and I went to Oglebay Park to walk in the snow. When we set out the wind was blowing hard and it was so cold my face ached and I thought I’d made a mistake coming along, but it died down and then I was fine. I had on a new pair of boot socks we’d purchased that morning because my feet had been cold in the arboretum, and they helped. It was quiet in the park other than occasional honking geese. You know how smell travels farther when it’s very cold? Even when I was walking a few feet behind Beth, I could smell the cherry cough drops she was sucking.

We walked from the lodge to the mansion and around Shenck Lake and saw a big flock of geese hunkered down, motionless on a snowy hillside. Afterward we got coffee and hot chocolate in the lodge. I stared out the window watching the falling snow, still feeling pensive and a little melancholy.

When we got back, we went to visit Beth’s aunt Carole, who lives two doors down, and Carole’s son Sean, who was visiting from Ireland, and shared more news of family. Then we had a late lunch and settled in for a quiet afternoon of reading and writing and watching the falling snow.

Sunday morning, we ran some more errands and hit the road for home a little before ten. We took our time on the drive. We stopped for lunch at a café in Cumberland—where I got a cozy meal of tomato soup, grilled cheese, and chocolate-peppermint tea—and for a walk in Rocky Gap State Park. There wasn’t much snow there on the ground there, or anywhere after Cumberland, but Lake Habeeb was partly frozen. There were ducks on the water and a couple beaver-felled trees.

In the first five days of the new year, we walked in four different parks in three different states. I don’t know where the year will take us as a family or as a country, but for better or for worse, we have taken our first steps.

Seaside Christmas

Posted on December 28, 2024 by Steph

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Arrival

I set foot on the beach late Monday afternoon just as the sun was setting, after an uneventful drive to the beach. Based on the vibrant pink clouds I could see in the sky as I walked toward the beach, I may have missed the most dramatic part of it, but it was still beautiful down there, with a band of coral-colored clouds right over the horizon and puffy pale pink ones higher in the sky.

I walked up and down the boardwalk for twenty minutes or so, not lingering because it was about a mile from the boardwalk to the house and it would be cold and dark soon. The colored lights on the bandstand, on the giant Christmas tree, and all along Rehoboth Avenue had come on while I was on the beach, and it warmed my heart to see them.

Back at the rental house, we ordered takeout Japanese from a restaurant just around the corner. They didn’t have any reservations available for that night or we would have eaten there. It’s lovely inside, with koi ponds built into the floor and a lot of greenery and fairy lights. Beth and I went to pick up the food and brought it back home.

After dinner, the kids and I decorated the tree that Beth had set up and strung with lights. We have a large and eclectic collection of decorations, and it always seems as if they can’t possibly fit, but they always do. It’s our annual Christmas miracle.

Christmas Eve

I was up at six o’ clock—I often wake early at the beach. I wanted to go to see the sun rise, but I couldn’t quite rouse myself. It was cold out, just a little below freezing, plus I am not a morning person and I would have liked more sleep, but after dozing for forty-five minutes, I got up and dressed and was out of the house by seven and on the beach at seven-fifteen, just as the edge of the sun was peeping out from behind dark clouds. Then it rose and cast a line of molten gold across the silver sea. I walked along the beach and boardwalk, noting how the early morning sun turned the dry dune grass a reddish-brown color. Right before I left, I saw a huge flock of white birds, probably snow geese, flying from over the ocean, toward the land. It had been well worth getting out of bed.

We were planning to eat breakfast at Egg, but we hadn’t set a time and neither of the kids was up when I got back to the house at eight, so I had some yogurt with almond butter and banana to tide me over. We didn’t end up leaving the house until around ten, so it was a good thing I ate.

After breakfast, Beth braved the grocery store on Christmas Eve (she said it wasn’t too bad) and the kids and I started on the first baking project of the day, making cookies out of the gingerbread dough I’d made at home. We cut them into various shapes, trees and hearts being the most popular, and made four initials (B, S, and two Ns) and decorated the cookies with colored sugar, hard candies, pecans, pepitas, raisins, and dried cranberries.

Later Beth set out on a walk, and the kids and I had lunch at Grotto. We usually have our weekly Friday night pizza there when we’re at the beach, but this trip would not include a Friday night, so the kids thought we needed to have lunch there. I suggested Friday lunch right before we left town and that we not have pizza for dinner that night, but this blasphemous idea was summarily rejected. I didn’t want to spend the carbs on pizza when there were so many sweets in the house, so I had a salad and a couple mozzarella sticks. North had pizza and Noah had stromboli.

After lunch, North and I went for a walk on the boardwalk, stopping to see the Christmas decorations in the Victorian-themed Boardwalk Plaza hotel. There are a lot of nativity scenes, but we are especially fond of village with the train and little merry-go-round that Santa rides. There is also a little ballroom in which tiny mechanical figures dance. Next, I accompanied North on some last-minute Christmas shopping for Beth and Noah at two candy shops, and then we got tea and coffee at Café a-Go-Go.

At the house, Noah and I read two chapters of Dracula with breaks for me to trade texts with the property manager of the house about the non-functioning gas fireplace. (This troubleshooting exchange had begun the night before and never did result in a fire, but did net us in a $100 apology Visa gift card when we finally gave up. We ended up making do with a fireplace video that we played over and over on the tv.) Meanwhile, North made chocolate-peppermint cookies. Beth made chili and almond flour cornbread for dinner, and we watched Christmas is Here Again and Noah read “The Night Before Christmas” to us, a Christmas Eve tradition.

Christmas

North was the first one up on Christmas morning. After they emptied their stocking, they started making Christmas breakfast: an orange-cranberry loaf, eggs scrambled or fried to order, vegetarian breakfast meats, and fruit salad. It was delightful.

While North was cooking, I wrote a small batch of postcards for a special election in the Virginia Senate and took a short walk down to the post office to drop them in a mailbox.

We opened presents after breakfast. We had not really consulted with each other about what we were getting Beth, and we all went heavy on chocolate, possibly for the comfort value. She got seven dark chocolate bars and one disk, two dark chocolate barks (almond and orange) and two hot chocolate mixes (dark and caramel). When we were laughing about it, she said she did not mind at all. “I am a simple woman,” she said. She is serious about chocolate at any rate, and she did get other presents (peppermint foot lotion, a wallet, a gift certificate for e-books, etc.)

My biggest present was a new Fitbit from Beth to replace the one that broke last summer, but I also got a lot of tea. North got me my favorites from the tea shop in Rehoboth and Noah got me something called “A Feast of Tea,” a tower-shaped box with eight kinds of tea he bought in London. He also got me a book. I started to read the blurb on the back out loud but when it turned out to be about a dystopian cannibalistic future, I decided to spare my squeamish wife the description. North got both of us of a white squirrel ornament, because I’d said it would be nice to have an Oberlin ornament. Beth also got me a foot file, which I thought was kind of funny since I got her foot lotion. We both battle prickly heels in the winter and have been married long enough to get each other this kind of gift.

Noah got a portable charger, some sweets, and a pile of books. North got lavender earrings, lavender lip balm, and a lavender bath bomb, and a lot of gifts designed to keep them warm and dry during an Oberlin winter (long underwear, an umbrella—we also got them a new coat, but didn’t count that as a present). For fun, we got them an Oberlin gift certificate that can be used at a host of businesses in town.

By the time we finished opening gifts it was almost noon, but we’d had a late and large breakfast, so we weren’t hungry for lunch. We all went for a walk on the Gordon’s Pond trail. I’ve never seen as many herons as we did that day and there were also egrets and ducks on the pond and a noisy flock of geese flying overhead, continually breaking out of and reforming their V formations. Noah took a lot of pictures. There were other people on the trail who inevitably said, “Merry Christmas” and it was hard to get irritated about them assuming what holidays we celebrate since Beth was wearing a Santa hat.

There’s a path to beach off the trail parking lot so we rambled on the beach for a while. My mom called from her sister’s house in Boise, and we handed the phone back and forth as we walked around the barnacle-encrusted rocks and the piles of sea foam on the sand.

Back at the house we had lunch. North had spicy ramen noodles and orange sections while I made a board of cheeses (baked Brie and Gouda), crackers, apple slices, olives, and nuts for everyone else. We all looked at the pictures my sister posted on Facebook of all the Goth-themed presents Lily-Mei got and the whole family posed together in skull pajamas. Beth said she thought that when your parents dress up in Goth pajamas it kind of takes the rebellious edge out of it and I said I think that’s the difference between going through a Goth phase at eleven versus at sixteen.

North took a bath with their bath bomb and the rest of us read or watched tv for the rest of the afternoon until it was time to make dinner. Noah and I made spinach lasagna, garlic bread, and vegetarian sausage. We watched the Dr. Who Christmas special and Christmas was over.

Boxing Day

I was up before the sun again and went down to the beach to see another sunrise. I found a little Christmas tree, about two feet high, decorated with ornaments and candy canes, on its side on the beach. I tried to right it, but it wouldn’t stay up.

I came back to the house, ate breakfast, and North and I made plans to go back to the beach mid-morning. I had some retail errands to run on the way (but not returning anything as so many people do on the day after Christmas). My phone screen has been cracked for a year, and I keep putting off getting it repaired, though it makes me nervous whenever I’m out in the rain that moisture will get in and kill it. Anyway, I’d seen a sign in the window of a shop saying they fix phone screens, and I thought I might just get it taken care of, but I wasn’t sure if the store was closed for the season or not because it had not been normal business hours when I passed it. Turned out it was closed, so my phone is still cracked.

Next, we visited the soap shop because I wanted a bar of their pine-scented soap, partly because I like it and partly because I have often read it’s Joe Biden’s favorite from this store and I am feeling sentimental about the end of his term, like many others in town. We kept seeing “Thank You, Joe” signs around. But then to remind me of the limitations of political moderates, North spotted a Blue Lives Matter flag in the store (which Noah had reported seeing earlier and I’d looked for before going in and didn’t see). By the time North saw it, I’d already started my transaction. So, I have my soap, but I might keep away in the future.

We stopped at Café A-Go-Go and got tea and coffee again, before hitting the beach. I tried to find the little tree to show North, but someone had taken it away. We walked and then headed home for lunch, stopping at the Christmas store, not to buy anything for “for the vibes,” as North said.

That afternoon Noah and I read Dracula and then he embarked on a television binge— an episode of Queen’s Gambit with North, two of What We Do in the Shadows with me, and one of the new Star Wars show with Beth. While he and I were watching our show, Beth and North went out for ice cream.

While Noah and Beth were watching their show, I left for my third trip to the beach of the day, just in time to catch the sunset. One advantage of short winter days at the beach is later sunrises and earlier sunsets, making it easy to take in both in one day. While I was walking along the beach some seagulls flew over me and their white bellies were stained a rosy shade of pink. On my way home, I detoured to wander through the neighborhood near our house and admire people’s lights.

Back at the house, it was laundry and a dinner of leftovers and packing and stripping the tree of its ornaments, only three days after we put them on. Beth said that’s always the saddest part of leaving a Christmas vacation house.

Departure

And, sadly, it was time to leave. The next morning, we packed, swept up the needles, and vacated the house. We parked near the boardwalk so the kids and I could say goodbye to the ocean. As we walked down to the sand, Noah wondered if the water would be colder in December than in November (when we more often visit Rehoboth).

Why did the water temperature matter? To say goodbye to the ocean, the kids stand barefoot by the waterline and let twenty-four frigid waves (of whatever number corresponds to the last two digits of the year) run over their feet. When they disagreed about whether a small ripple counted as a wave, North insisted, “We have to do this right,” then wondered if they would still be doing this in the winter of 2075. Noah said it might end in a trip to the emergency room.

I don’t do this barefoot in November or December. I wear rainboots, but as often happens, a rogue wave surprised me and filled them with icy water near the end of the ritual.

We met Beth on the boardwalk where I took my boots off and turned them upside down to empty the seawater out of them and Noah attempted to remove every grain of sand from his feet before putting his shoes and socks back on. Beth asked if we needed warm beverages to warm up and after Noah made a quick stop at Candy Kitchen, we proceeded to the nearest coffeeshop. North actually got their coffee iced because that’s the only way they drink it, but I got a warm latte and Noah got hot chocolate, and then we piled into the car and drove away from the beach.

“Goodbye, see you next summer,” North said, as we drove down Rehoboth Avenue.

Three hours later, just past the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, we stopped for a picnic lunch at Sandy Point State Park. We spied the Sandy Point Shoal Lighthouse in the middle of the bay and watched a container ship clear the bridge. Some hardy paddleboarders were setting out on a chilly adventure. Beth said they were “crazy” and then in her very next sentence wondered if she should get a dry suit to extend the kayaking season.

“The bay is nice, too,” I said as we walked back to the car.

“The bay is great,” she said. “I love the bay.”

So, we will be back to both, paddling in the spring, and swimming in the summer. I hope you get to do some things you love in the coming year as well, whatever it may hold.

Ten for December

Posted on December 10, 2024 by Steph

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The Trouble with Christmassing

Last week, Swistle wrote a blog post, called “Having Trouble Christmassing” that really hit home with me. A lot of you have already read it, but for those who haven’t, here’s how it starts:

I am having some trouble Christmassing. Which is not surprising, given the state of Everything, and really I am doing better than I did in 2016. But: I am having trouble. I have a to-do list that gets longer every day. I feel as if I might genuinely not be ready in time, and also that I am highly likely to feel regret that I didn’t enjoy this last holiday season enough before it was bleak, bleak, BLEAK late January, which is scheduled to last for many years. I have not started the Christmas cards. I have not been listening to Christmas music. I have not brought down the Christmas dishes, or put up any decorations except for the tree, which I was highly motivated to get up and decorated while the twins were home for Thanksgiving. I have bought very few presents. I am getting that quiet, dazed panicky feeling I get when I seem to Simply Not Be Doing something that needs to be done.

When Swistle posted this, we’d completed our Christmas card photo shoot, Noah had edited the finalists, and I’d written the text, but we had trouble making a final decision about the picture and the project stalled. I had only bought gifts for one person. The only decorations I had up were the few cards we had received so far and a green dish towel with a Christmas tree topped with a sea star on it that I hung from the oven door handle.

I’m thinking we may go minimalist with inside decorations this year, not so much out of political despair but because of the kittens, who knock everything off everything else all day long and who are such good jumpers and climbers (especially Willow) that there’s nowhere we could put anything that they could not reach. I am certainly not setting up the Christmas village I inherited from my mother, which has many small, fragile pieces and is important to me. But here’s what we have done in terms of preparation and celebration:

10 Efforts to Christmas

It took me longer than usual to start listening to Christmas music. Beth and Noah wanted to on the long drive from Oberlin to Takoma Park the Sunday after Thanksgiving and I didn’t mind, but whenever it was my turn to choose the entertainment, I went with podcasts. I eventually started to listen to some at home, but until today when I really dove into it, my ratio of Christmas to non-Christmas music was lower than usual. I listened to a lot of music that’s Christmas-adjacent, like the soundtrack to Rent or albums with one Christmas song on them, like Dar Williams’ Mortal City.
The first day we were home from Wheeling, with grim determination to be festive, I put on a pair of reindeer and holly socks, went on a walk, and took pictures of the neighbors’ Christmas decorations. The two skeletons that change costumes with the seasons are a perennial favorite—one has a Santa hat right now and the other one has a Christmas light headband—but I also like the inflatable Santa riding a shark. Who wouldn’t?
Noah left for London the first Wednesday of December. I asked him to send me at least one photo every day and most days he has. Many of them were of Christmas lights in the city. He attended the lighting of the Christmas tree in Trafalgar Square and had this to say about it: “It took forever to get to the tree lighting. People had to sing and play music and give speeches and Jesus and WWII.” If this sounds crabby (especially coming from a musician), it was his first day there and he had barely slept the night before on the plane and because he didn’t check in by the deadline at his hotel, they cancelled his reservation (which was for a whole week!) and gave away his room and he found himself exhausted and without lodging in a strange city. The hotel eventually found him a room in another one of their properties, but he’d had a stressful day.
Before he left, Noah wrapped his present to Lily-Mei, and he found the perfect paper for a preteen Goth—black with gold snowflakes in white circles—in the closet. I wrapped the rest of the gifts in the same paper and mailed them on Thursday. It was pleasing to have one person checked off my list.
Beth and I finally picked a photo for the card—by this point we’d forgotten which ones of the final three the kids preferred, and to make it less complicated, we decided not to ask them to remind us. After all, the four of collaborated in the narrowing down from almost forty to three so everyone had already had a substantial say. Beth designed the card and ordered it.
On the first Saturday of December, Beth and I went to Agricultural History Farm Park. The idea was to take a walk somewhere new and to take in some Christmas cheer. We walked on trails through woods and over a creek and along harvested cornfields in golden late afternoon light. In the barn, there was live music (oddly, someone playing guitar and singing Tears for Fears “Everybody Wants to Rule the World”) and free hot cider and gingersnaps plus more treats for sale. Outside the barn there were people taking a hayride and there were goats in a pen and a man giving a blacksmithing demonstration. (It made me nervous that he was not using any eye protection, and it wasn’t because he was in period costume because he wasn’t.) On the way home, we stopped at a coffeehouse where we got coffee, hot chocolate, and macarons (peppermint for me, chocolate-hazelnut for Beth) and we picked up a wreath at a grocery store. It was a pleasing outing.
That night, Beth and I went over the kids’ lists and decided what to get them and which ideas to farm out to relatives. Over the rest of the weekend, I communicated with my mom and sister about who was getting what. This exchange is still in progress and it’s not Christmas shopping exactly, but it’s a precursor to shopping.
Sunday Beth put up the wreath and started the outside lights, both the candy cane lane and the strings of lights that go in the trees and on the porch. She finished on Monday.
On Monday morning as I was walking in a chilly drizzle, I got a text from North, asking, “Hypothetically, if you were getting an Oberlin ornament,” if I would prefer one of three options. I’d asked for an Oberlin ornament for Christmas, so this was not exactly a surprise, but it was cheering, nonetheless. I chose the white squirrel, which is Oberlin’s unofficial mascot because of its small population of albino squirrels. North had been waiting impatiently to see one and finally did recently. (Before that they saw gray one with a white tail, probably the offspring of a mixed-color squirrel couple.)
Monday evening, in a flurry of focused online activity, I nearly finished my shopping.

So, things are moving along. Cards on are their way to us, most presents have been purchased, decoration is partly complete. When both kids are home later this week, we’ll decide which if any indoor decorations to put out, get a tree, and walk through the lights display at Brookside Gardens.

I’m looking forward having everyone home and to the tree and lights outings. As I prepare for Christmas, I’ve been oscillating between feeling I’m dutifully going through the motions and enjoying the tasks. I think that’s okay. We can’t always feel the same way and sometimes duty slips into merriment when I give it a chance. Either way, we will manage to Christmas.

Waiting for Joy

Posted on December 7, 2024 by Steph

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We’ve been home from our Thanksgiving week trip for almost a week now, but once I got back into the swing of work and chores, I never did get around to blogging about the last few days, so I thought I’d finish that before switching gears.

Black Friday

On Friday morning Beth and I lingered at the hotel long enough to have a soak in the hot tub after breakfast. It seemed it would be a waste to stay there five days and not use it. We showed up at Beth’s mom house in the late morning and took separate walks in snow flurries that persisted on and off all day and gave the day a festive feel. (The snow never did stick in Beth’s mom’s neighborhood, but when we went back to our hotel that night there was a dusting there. Wheeling is a hilly town and apparently it has microclimates.)

Most of us ate Thanksgiving leftovers for lunch and then Noah and I finished The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires and Beth went ice skating at Wheeling Park. In the mid-afternoon, Beth, North and I left to do a little Christmas shopping. We went to the Artisan Center and Centre Market. We got a few small gifts for my niece Lily-Mei, who at eleven and a half is redecorating her room in a goth theme. This turned out to be the holiday project I didn’t know I needed. Maybe because it seemed more like Halloween than Christmas it was the only gift buying that interested me (and even now it’s the only gift buying I’ve done). We got some little figurines of cats in goth outfits, a painting of a raven, and picked out a wooden statue of another raven (though by the time we returned to that store to buy it, it had closed).

We went into a vintage clothes and record shop to look for a warmer winter coat than North currently owns. Since the thin down coat that served them for a couple winters in Maryland seemed to be about right for November in Ohio, they suspected they will need something heavier for winter, but they couldn’t find anything at this store. Next, we stopped at a coffee kiosk and got a half-sweet gingerbread latte for me and chai for North and headed home.

When we got home, Beth’s mom was watching a WVU-Arizona basketball game (WVU won) and then Beth, North, and I watched an episode of Gilmore Girls. Beth went to pick up pizza for us to eat in front of Hot Frosty, which was Noah’s pick for a Hallmark-type Christmas movie. It was just what you’d expect from this kind of movie. I don’t think I need to say more.

Small Business Saturday

In the morning, Noah and I started Dracula. I taught this book for years in my horror class and I’m deeply gratified to be sharing it with him. We went out for lunch at Later Alligator. (The promise of crepes was how we enticed Noah out of the house for the first time in a few days.) I didn’t read the description of my crepe carefully enough and when it arrived, I was a little dismayed to find it had white rice in it because rice tends to spike my blood sugar and unlike a lot of other things I was eating that week, it wasn’t worth the splurge. I did my best to eat around it.

We met up with Beth’s mom for more Christmas shopping at the Schrader Environmental Center gift shop in Oglebay park. Because of the rice and because I wasn’t really in a good headspace for more Christmas shopping, I decided to take a walk in the park while everyone else shopped. Next, we proceeded to the park lodge coffeeshop for coffee and pastries. Beth and I had noticed lavender lattes there earlier in the week and they are North’s favorite, which was part of the reason we returned. (Thanks to the walk, my blood sugar was low enough so that I was able to have half a slice of gingerbread cake.)

Back at the house I did laundry and made cranberry applesauce out of our apple-turkey centerpieces and some leftover cranberries. But before dinner, we headed out to Oglebay to drive through the light show. We haven’t been to Wheeling for Thanksgiving or Christmas for a long time—this was the last time—because in recent years we’ve been going to Rehoboth for Thanksgiving and Blackwater for Christmas, so we haven’t been to the light show in nine years either, though when the kids were small we went almost every year.

I think a lot of people who live in Wheeling think of the Festival of Lights as a touristy thing, and find the traffic it attracts annoying, but I am quite fond of it. It’s been around for forty years, and I probably went for the first time in the late eighties or early nineties, so I’ve seen it grow bigger and bigger. I like seeing the old familiar lights, like the candles surrounded by poinsettias, and the newer LED displays. I only took one picture and didn’t ask Noah to take any because it’s hard to take pictures from a moving vehicle and I didn’t want ask Beth to stop the car repeatedly. I knew which one I wanted, though.

Back when North was in preschool and knew their letters but couldn’t read, they used to insist every word that started with a J was their name because their birth name started with a J. So, the year they were two and a half, when we drove through the Festival of Lights, they saw the word JOY and got very excited about seeing their name in lights, so to speak. For years afterward it became a family joke to say the sign said North’s old name. But we hadn’t been through since North changed their name and when I said, “Look, it says North,” everyone laughed.

There are several tunnels made of lights along the route, and these fixtures also inspired nostalgia. I reminisced about how the kids used to try to hold their breath in them. The tunnels are not long but when traffic is slow, which it generally is, it takes a long time to get through them. I remembered how this used to lead to conflict and tears. When they were nine and fourteen for instance, when Noah was trying to hold his breath and North wasn’t, he claimed they had “forfeited” and he had won, which made them mad. So, at the next tunnel, North retaliated by breathing as loudly as they could to torment him while he tried to hold his breath. Reminded of this tradition, of course, both of them held their breath and it took so long to get through one of the tunnels I thought they would pass out, but they didn’t. And no one cried, so I guess that’s improvement.

That night after a dinner of leftovers and cranberry applesauce, Carole came over to say goodbye because we were leaving the next morning.

Advent

Even though I am not Catholic, it always pleases me when Advent starts on December 1 and the little chocolate-dispensing calendars are accurate. This was one of those years. We didn’t buy an Advent calendar this year, but I thought of it anyway.

On Sunday we were one the road for fourteen hours, first driving North back to Oberlin, making a lunch stop there, and then driving from Oberlin home. On arriving in Oberlin, we helped North carry their luggage up to their third-floor room and they hung some ornaments they’d asked us to bring from home on the tree in the Keep lounge.

Next, we stopped at a grocery store to get them some food because meals were not starting up at Keep for another day and a half and we had brunch at a restaurant in town. Everyone but me got pancakes—sweet potato-cranberry for Noah, chocolate chip for Beth, and blueberry for North. I had a broccoli-quinoa omelet, salad, half the potatoes that came with my meal, and some hot tea, and I did not feel too deprived. I put this photo of Beth and the kids at the restaurant on Facebook and North saw it and texted me, “I like this picture where none of us are smiling and only Beth is looking at the camera.” Believe it or not it was the best of four pictures I took.

After eating we took North back to Keep and said our goodbyes. It was not nearly as hard as when we left them there in August, partly because we’re getting used to being apart but mostly because we were going to see them again in less than two weeks when they come home for winter break. (And now it’s less than a week.)

If Advent is a time of waiting for joyful things, even in dark days, it truly has begun.

To Be Grateful

Posted on November 29, 2024 by Steph

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Tuesday

Two days before Thanksgiving, on North’s first full day in Wheeling, they did schoolwork for much of the day and I worked on a long-form blog post about nootropics, as I had the day before. Beth’s aunts Susan and Carole dropped by separately. I saw Susan, but missed Carole, as I was out on a walk.

Late that afternoon we did a photo shoot for our Christmas card in Wheeling Park. I wanted to do it that day because it was going to get colder as the week progressed, though as it was it was still kind of chilly to be out without jackets in the late afternoon.

In 2016, I didn’t know what to do about the Christmas card. This is what I said about it:

A few days ago, I told Beth I was thinking of not doing a Christmas card this year. It just seemed like a lot of work and it was hard to imagine putting a smiling picture of us on the front of it or writing a cheerful letter about what we’ve been up to this past year. The annual card means more to me than to her, so I thought she might go along with the idea of taking a pass. Instead she looked surprised.

I said I wasn’t sure if it was just post-election depression and if I’d regret it later if we skipped a year. She asked if I’d thought it was too much work last year. I said no, so clearly it was post-election depression, but that the part I wasn’t sure about was whether I’d regret it or not. She gently suggested we take some pictures at the beach “just in case.” We discussed the possibility of sending a card with no letter, of taking a more pensive looking picture, of putting some political message on the card.

I’m still not sure what we’re going to do, but I think she handled it just right. If she’d said that we should do the card, I might have said it was pointless and started crying. If she’d said sure, let’s skip it this year, I probably would have cried, too, because that would mean it really was pointless.

We ended up doing cards that year. I suggested to the kids that they look pensive, and Noah did, but North didn’t. I can’t remember what we did about the letter, and I can’t find one in the folder where I keep those documents, so it’s possible we skipped it, but my filing is not impeccable and other years are missing, too.

I felt similarly about the card this year, but we couldn’t stare moodily at the ocean on this year’s card because we weren’t at the beach. Before the election, we’d planned to pose by the Christmas decorations at the lodge at Oglebay but I couldn’t imagine doing anything so cheery now. So, instead of our usual red and green color scheme, I asked everyone to dress in muted, nature-evoking colors (blues, greens, and browns) and we posed in the autumnal, less decorated landscape of Wheeling Park. They all indulged me. Beth asked jokingly, if I’d like to take the photo in the cemetery that’s adjacent to the park and the thing is, while we were standing there with the hill of graves in sight, I had actually thought of that, but I didn’t want to go that far. Plus, as North said, it would be disrespectful of the dead to use their gravestones as props.

We walked around taking pictures by various bushes and trees, some bare, some evergreen, and some with red berries or leaves. The graveyard did show up in the background of some of them. I told people to smile or not, as they chose. I alternated between small smiles and more somber expressions. Then we approached the lake with its “Danger. Thin Ice” sign and took some pictures there (for Facebook, rather than the card), as it seems to be a good representation of the outlook for 2025.

It turned out to be comforting outing, being outside with the four of us all together, joking a little in a dark sort of way. I asked North if it was nice being back with their “weird family.”

They said, “Yes. Is it nice being back with your weird kid?”

I said, “Yes.” And it was.

When we’d finished the shoot, we went to warm up with coffee, tea, and hot chocolate at the coffeehouse in the park. Then we went back to Beth’s mom’s house and North and I collaborated on an improvised vegetable soup for dinner.

Beth and I checked into a hotel that night. This was the plan all along because her mom’s condo is small for five people. But since North had arrived earlier than expected, we’d managed the night before with Beth, Noah, and me in the guest room (he was on an air bed) and North on another air bed in the living room.

Wednesday

In the breakfast room of the hotel in the morning, I entertained myself by people watching. (Beth and I went down separately because I wasn’t ready when she was.) I heard a little boy complaining that his brother had sausage, and he did not have any. His mother fetched him some sausage and then he exclaimed indignantly, “I didn’t want sausage!”

Next a college-age young man in the same party tucked a few packages of Nutella into his pocket and his father (or maybe stepfather—based on the ages of the four kids it could have been a blended family) said, “What are you doing with your life that you’re stashing Nutella?” It wasn’t said in a joking way either. He seemed to mean it. The young man, undeterred, started putting muffins into his backpack while the (step)father started to mansplain Tik-Tok to a teen girl, opining it was “all about trends.”

Eventually I tore myself away from this fascinating family and Beth and I went for an hour-long walk in Oglebay park. We checked out the site where the winter carnival is running in the afternoons and evenings. There was a tiny skating rink with artificial ice (made of plastic). Beth decided she was not interested in skating in such a small area. We looked at all the Christmas trees decorated in different themes (culinary, floral, animal-themed, patriotic, athletic, and one dedicated to the Oglebay family—iron barons who donated the grounds of the park and its mansion one hundred years ago).

Back at the lodge, we stopped for coffee, a muffin, and biscotti. It was there I heard my first Christmas music in the wild this year (an instrumental version of “God Rest Ye, Merry Gentleman”) and from then on it was full-on Christmas music, which Beth pointed out was not surprising given that the Festival of Lights is in progress.

We went back to Beth’s mom’s house and found North cleaning up from having made pie crust. We stayed long enough for Noah and me to read for a half hour (We were near the end of The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires) and then have lunch. Then Beth, the kids, and I went to see Wicked.

The situation in the theater was very strange. In the lobby, there was just one kiosk for tickets and no staff other than those selling concessions. The kiosk was serving both people who needed to buy tickets and those who had bought them online and still needed to print them. The lines for both concessions and the tickets kiosk were quite long, so we split up. The kids got popcorn, pretzel bites, and soda, and Beth stood in the ticket line. She sent me deeper into the building to go look for a ticket taker so we could find out if we really needed to print the tickets (as an email she received indicated) or if the code on Beth’s phone could be scanned, but there was no one anywhere. It turned out we could have waltzed right into the theater with no tickets, and no one would have been the wiser.

But just to be safe, Beth did wait in the line (which stopped for a while when the machine broke down—and one of the two staff people did come over then to fix it). Unbeknownst to us, Beth’s aunt Susan was attending the same screening of the same film with several of her grandkids and great grandkids in tow, so when they arrived Beth bought tickets for them, too, so they wouldn’t have to wait as long in line. Susan said Beth was “an angel.” Anyway, we did pay to see Wicked, because we are law-abiding citizens. It was fun. I recommend it.

Back at Beth’s mom’s house, North made the filling for their pie and put it in the oven, we looked over the almost forty pictures from the park and narrowed it down to three finalists, and we had Chinese takeout for dinner and then watched A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving and Mayflower Voyagers.

Thanksgiving Day

Beth and I returned to the house from our hotel around 9:20. The kids were still asleep, but her mom was watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving parade. Beth and I got started on the mushroom gravy and then I left her to finish it while I folded laundry in the living room while watching the parade.

Later that morning we went for a walk in a cemetery, not the one from the photo shoot, but another one. It’s a big graveyard with winding paths, tall trees, headstones, mausoleums, columns, and obelisks. I saw stones from as long ago as 1875 and as recent as this year. There are still grassy areas to fill in. I saw surnames I would not like to have (Boring) and ones I would (Seabright, not that I’d swap Lovelady for that, but it is an excellent name).

We discussed my ambivalence about what I’d like done with my body after my death. I’ve always liked graveyards, and I like the idea of loved ones visiting my grave or strangers walking by and exclaiming “What a great name” but the idea of my ashes being scattered at sea is also appealing. Of course, I said, Beth would probably rather be scattered at Blackwater. We could have our ashes mixed, she said, after we were both dead, and scattered in both places. It’s not a firm plan, but it’s a possibility. Take note, kids.

We’d been walking a while before Beth happened to mention her maternal grandparents had headstones in this cemetery, but she didn’t remember where. In a book or a movie, we would have stumbled across the graves, and I looked, but we didn’t. On the way home, we detoured to go walk to their two-story brick house. We also walked by Beth’s middle school (which was her mom’s high school back in the 60s) on the way there and from the edge of the cemetery you just barely could see the house where Beth lived during the first half or so of her childhood. I told her I liked knowing what memories I was walking by when I’m in Wheeling. We moved a lot when I was a kid, and though we’ve given our kids a childhood in one place, I have a hard time imagining what that would be like sometimes.

Back at the house we found North making caramel sauce for their apple pie, having finished the cranberry sauce. We had lunch, and Noah and I continued to read our vampire book, and Beth’s aunt Jenny came by for a visit, followed by her aunt Carole, who dropped off a pumpkin chiffon pie. We now had three kinds of pie, because Beth’s mom made a pecan pie the night before after we left for the hotel.

Beth, the kids, and I made our traditional Thanksgiving craft of turkeys made of apples, raisins, dried cranberries, green olives, and toothpicks. They grace our table every year as centerpieces, but this year Noah wanted to take them outside to photograph them. I went with him, and he asked me to arrange them to look “natural… like they’re in their habitat.” You can judge if I did a good job.

Later in the afternoon, North basted the tofurkey roast, Beth’s mom made mashed potatoes, Beth made stuffing, and Noah chopped the green beans, and I steamed them. Various people read and napped. I listened to “Alice’s Restaurant” and a playlist of songs about autumn, since it won’t be autumn for much longer.

Then we ate our feast (joined for pie later by Carole and her granddaughter Holly). Some years at Thanksgiving we go around the table and say what we are thankful for, but we don’t do it every year. I thought about it ahead of time and decided I would not initiate this activity because gratitude is currently a work in progress for me and I didn’t want to put others on the spot if anyone felt the same. I did want to have an answer, though, if asked, because I do want to be grateful. I think it’s important. Beth recently advised me not to let the incoming President take the joy out of my life and it is good advice.

At the table no one asked for examples of gratitude. Instead, Beth’s mom asked us to recount our most memorable Thanksgivings. She told us about the only year she didn’t spend in Wheeling, early in her marriage when she and Beth’s dad were living in Bluefield, WV, and the way she described it sounded a little lonely. I commiserated and mentioned how it strange it was to be in Spain the Thanksgiving I was twenty. My Thanksgiving dinner consisted of a sweet potato boiled on a hot plate in a dorm room. “That is sad,” she said.

Beth mentioned that she had a gallbladder attack, and we’ve had lice and covid on or very near Thanksgiving. Beth’s mom suggested we consider happier Thanksgivings and reminisced about the Thanksgiving Beth was one year old, and they had her birthday cake with Thanksgiving dinner. Beth said she’d be sure to tell her younger brother that their mother’s happiest Thanksgiving was before he was born. I put in that while we’d had many happy Thanksgivings with extended family on both sides, the first year we went to the beach for Thanksgiving was memorable because it was new.

But back to gratitude… If I am being honest, I have been very sad and disappointed and sometimes fearful since the election. It’s not irrational. My family includes a lesbian couple, one of whom works in the labor movement, a young adult who recently worked to elect Democratic political candidates, and another young adult who’s trans. While we are not the most endangered people—that would be immigrants—some or all of us could be in the crosshairs soon. There are some things that make me feel less terrible, though, and each one makes me grateful. Here are the ones that come to mind:

Family, especially my extraordinary wife and kids
The kittens
Nature
Good food and coffee
Books, music, movies, and tv (especially Ghosts UK right now)
All of you who will be fighting the good fight over the next several years

Get the Party Started

Posted on November 26, 2024 by Steph

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Beth turned fifty-eight the Saturday before Thanksgiving. Her birthday is usually before Thanksgiving and when it is, it’s what gets the holiday festivities underway for us. She had a busy, pleasant day. She was out of the house most of the morning and part of the afternoon. The skating rink in Downtown Silver Spring had opened for the season, so she went skating and then to pick up her birthday reward pastry at Starbucks and a large quantity of apples at the farmers’ market so North could make an apple pie for Thanksgiving, and then on series of errands.

Back at the house, I wrapped her presents and baked a cake, the one I most often make for her birthday, dark chocolate with coffee frosting. We had a video call with North in the mid-afternoon, during which North showed Beth a pair of mittens they had knitted for her, and she unwrapped gifts from Noah (a salad dressing shaker from her wish list) and me (a dark chocolate bar and a sampler pack of four Spanish cheeses).

Noah and I made vegetarian crab cakes for dinner, at her request, and then we had birthday cake and watched the last episode of season 3 of Ghosts UK. We are whizzing through this series, which we only started watching right after the election, but between several different travel plans, it will probably go onto the back burner for a while. Speaking of family travel, after we watched tv, we started to pack for our Thanksgiving trip. We are currently in Wheeling, where we are spending a week with Beth’s mom.

We left the following morning. Truth be told, I was melancholy for much of the drive, because there was time for my mind to wander and I’ve been trying to avoid letting it do that. Thankfully, though, there weren’t nearly as many Trump signs as I expected in Western Maryland, Western Pennsylvania, or West Virginia. (I’d braced myself.) The leaves were mostly past peak, but there were parts of the drive with some muted fall color left and at the higher elevations, there was snow on the ground. At a rest stop as we walked back to the car, Beth swerved off the sidewalk to step in it and then she smiled.

We arrived in Wheeling at 4:15 and after chatting with Beth’s mom, Beth, Noah, and I went for a short walk because we’d been cooped up in the car for most of the day. Some people had Christmas lights up and there were some lingering Halloween decorations, too, but I most appreciated the seasonal touch of the house with two inflatable turkeys.

Back at the house, Noah told Beth’s mom about his plans for his upcoming trip to London. (I don’t think I’ve mentioned this, but he’s taking a week-long solo trip to London in early December.) Beth made ravioli for dinner and then we watched Picnic at Hanging Rock, which I had not seen since college, but remains as artsy and atmospheric as I remembered.

North was originally supposed to join us on Wednesday, but the friend giving them a ride to a nearby town kept changing the day of their departure, first back to Tuesday and then to Monday. I was a little concerned about North missing so much class. We’d decided to have Thanksgiving in Wheeling (rather than coming for Christmas) partly because Oberlin’s Thanksgiving break is so short (they only had Thursday and Friday off) and we could reduce travel for North in what’s essentially a long weekend. But the decision was in the driver’s hands and of course, we were also happy to have more time with North. I got some texts from them about their change of plans Monday morning while I was taking a walk in Wheeling Park.

Late that afternoon, Beth and I drove to Cambridge, Ohio to pick North up at a Starbucks. Our car pulled into the lot probably less than two minutes before Levi’s car did. North emerged, we thanked him and wished him a safe drive—he was going all the way to North Carolina in one shot. We proceeded inside where North picked up one of the cranberry-coconut milk refreshers they’ve been wanting to try and a cranberry bliss bar. (There are no Starbucks within walking distance of campus, so North has been impatient to try the new items and old favorites on the holiday menu.) From there we proceeded to Taco Bell for dinner and then drove back to Wheeling, where North was reunited with their brother and grandmother and our Thanksgiving party was now complete.

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.

All For The Love Of You

A Chronicle of Suburban Lesbian Family Life

Category Archives: Travel

The Seaside Reminds You

(Almost) Perfect Days

The Three Rs: Four Rallies, A Road Trip, and a Little Romance

First Steps

Seaside Christmas

Ten for December

Waiting for Joy

To Be Grateful

Get the Party Started

Welcome Home, Obie