Friday Happiness::
.Apple cake and bread to bake today. And knowing that at this moment, a friend is making roasted acorn squash soup for our dinner tonight.

.The Avett Brothers on the radio this morning. "Ah, Brooklyn, Brooklyn, take me in."
I especially like the words "tell the ones that need to know"; doesn't that conjure up the people in your life that you love?

.Measuring everyone's height, grown-ups, too, in pencil, on our kitchen wall.

.The beautiful photos, at this joy+ride, from our neck of the woods.
When we were young, my brothers and I used to take picnics to the cemetery, and swim in the river that winds along its edges. I realize that sounds strange and morbid, now. But it didn't seem strange at all, then. It's actually one of my clearest and fondest memories.

.Way too much on our plate this weekend, but all of it promises to be fun. If you're local, come join us for the opening reception for Public Bookstore on Saturday.

Enjoy the weekend. Thanks for reading.
tt

Monday morning love

I am loving, today,

::walking the kids to school.

::granola with bananas sliced in.

::the neighbors' dogwood, in full bloom outside our bedroom window.

::the neighbors' news-twins! born last night. A girl and a boy. Healthy and happy.

::summer in spring; opening the doors and windows.

::holding classes outdoors, for the middle schoolers.

::Public Bookstore inspiration, in this, and this.

::Laura Veirs; and this perfect Monday song.

More tomorrow. Thanks for reading.

tt

Monday, not even close to morning.

So, the day is gone. I started this post about twelve hours ago.

Before I made pancakes, before I was parent of the day (photo day), before Anna and I collapsed into a fully dressed heap of a nap.

Before I ran around and picked up and dropped off and picked up; before I got to see the piano teacher, and make a date to hang out and drink wine.

Before the wind came up, and the cherry blossoms in the yard kitty-corner came snowing down on our tentatively greening yard.

Before the dinner making-and yes, I need to do a "dinner post"; want to do a dinner post. Tonight, matzoh-ball soup, and meatball sandwiches. Yes. Both. And more to come, for Tim and I. See why dinner around here deserves a whole post? Or three.

Before baths and iTunes downloading and In the Night Kitchen. Before tea, and goodnight hugs and kisses, and Frere Jacques and "Wisemen" (aka, I Can't Help Falling in Love).

So now, here I sit for a minute or two. To say hello. To finish what I started, all those hours ago.

Here I sit, before our own dinner, and a chance to trade stories from the day. Before the trash goes out, and the cat comes in. Before the book-club book gets finished. Before we tuck in, and say our own goodnights.

Before it starts all over again.

More tomorrow. Thanks for reading.
tt

Saturday dispatch from the Gallery.

Are you the kind of person, upon leaving the farmer's market and rummaging around the basket for the bag holding a full quart of giardiniera, and finding that the helpful vendor had tied up the container in yet another bag, and twisted on one of those little twisty things, who would rip the bag right open from the side to get to the stuff as soon as possible, or who would take the time to untwist the twisty thing, thus insuring that you could safely re-twist the leftovers, assuming there were any, back into the extra plastic bag, so it wouldn't spill all over the basket in the car?

Just wondering.

::

This is a funny thing for me, to sit idle (more or less), in the gallery, for hours every once in a Saturday while. When I came in, Tim had set the computer up for me, with Pandora going. He's mentioned it before, that he's been listening to it here, but truth be told, I hadn't really focused on what he was telling me about it.

I typed in Bon Iver (yes, I'm still on that), and for the last three hours I've been listening to some of the best music I could hope to hear. Jose Gonzalez, The Shins, Iron and Wine, M. Ward, Wilco...it's kind of like having a cute boy you have a crush on making you a mixed tape.

::

I've been occupying myself by taking pictures (none of which I can post yet, as I don't have the proper cord down here at the gallery), picking at all my farmer's market loot, which I have with me because I came straight here from the market this morning, and watching YouTube clips,which literally had me in tears of laughter. (Thanks, Alexis!)

::

My stepdaughters and their friend came in and yanked me out of my Flickr-induced stupor, and were kind enough to run up the street for a cup of tea. So I'm wide awake now and watching the clock, ready to step out of the hush and still of the gallery, into the glare of finally sunlight, and start my day over again, in real life.

Hope you shed a few tears of laughter today, too.

More tomorrow. Thanks for reading.
tt

Have I mentioned I'm a huge Johnny Cash fan?

We got the band back together last Saturday night, more or less. I hadn't played the bass in so many weeks. I'm embarrassed to say how many weeks. Lots.

And I was never that good, even way back when, in the summer, when we were playing all the time. I can't carry a tune at all, either. But in our band, I have what they graciously refer to as "timing". I can sing the song along with our playing. Which is more than can be said for some of us. Ahem.

All of this is totally and completely not.the.point.

I love to play. I love to hold the guitar, and take apart the song until I can figure it out. I get it pretty quickly, too. But again. Not so good. Awful, actually. And not the point.

The point is that this is one of my life-long fantasies. Being a part of a band. Playing the bass. I remember distinctly, in college, daydreaming about being the one up there playing Sympathy for the Devil, for instance, instead of being one of the lost and wandering drunken souls down on the dance floor, waiting for the chance to go home. I'm not an exhibitionist, not by a long shot. Actually, I get all blushed and rashy at the thought of someone listening to me, looking at me.
But it's a way to escape, withdraw, I guess. Or so it seemed, back then.

But now, that's not the point, either.

The point is that my husband is over there playing the guitar, and looking so earnest and happy. And our lead guitarist, well, he's practiced more than anyone, and has gotten so good that I want to get better, just to be able to keep up with him. And our keyboardist: he is constant, and steady, and who knew that he could play so beautifully, almost any song we pick, and keep it all going for us, even when we are fumbling and laughing so much we can barely make out which song we're on.

And then, another point: we are fumbling, and laughing and our kids are among us now, picking up any instrument left, joining in, a part of the band. And all of a sudden, we're all doing this amazing thing. This thing that we can teach them, and they can teach us, and we can all learn, together. This thing that makes us laugh, and makes us a part of something that is unlike any other part of our lives.

We're making music. Together.

We got the band back together last Saturday night. Music to my ears.

More tomorrow. Thanks for reading.
tt

ps. Johnny Cash, and Bob Dylan. And Neil Young. And lots of people who were born way before me. But I still do love that Bon Iver boy, even if he was born in 1981.

Monday morning love

A few things I am loving right now:

lots and lots of little white lights, all over the house.

that bread recipe I told you about. If you have not tried it because it seems like so much work, or too much planning, try it. It takes less than five minutes at a time, a couple of steps, and you will love the smell, love the bread, and love that you made it yourself.

the likes of Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, and Sammy Davis Jr. singing holiday songs. Hokey, I know. But if you don't sing along to Baby, It's Cold Outside, there's no hope for you. Sorry.

extracting all of our Christmas decorations from the attic, and watching the girls be so excited to see them again. Being just as happy to see them, myself.

the sprinkling of snow we're getting now and then, like a teaser, before the real thing.

having a calendar full of parties and houseguests and friends visiting to look forward to.

President Elect Obama.

I may sound a little giddy. I think it's all the little white lights.

More tomorrow. Thanks for reading.

tt