Sunday, November 13, 2011

Notes from the Weekend

Saturday, two of my daughter's friends spent the day in our home. One is a Dutch boy who joined our daughter's class in seventh grade. He used to be scared to death of my husband, who noted wryly that the boy was scared only because he knew the dad could see his thoughts. The young man did pretty well on Saturday though. I guess he's growing up.

The other friend is a young lady who lived two summers with us, my daughter and her sharing a room from which could be heard squeals of laughter and singing and dancing at all hours of the day and night when rumor had it there was academic work to be done. The girls are part of the same scholar program, but she lived too far away to get to the classes during the summers after seventh and eighth grade, so she moved in temporarily with us. We adore this girl. She is dryly ironic in a way that I absolutely love, and you heard it here first, she will go very far.

This young lady had told the young man he was mistaken about my husband, that really he was a very humorous and easygoing man. The young man decided to test her perception by visiting our daughter at home for the first time in all the years he has known her. I couldn't help feeling sorry for the kid when he accepted a glass of pomegranate juice that my husband offered and then felt that he had to finish it although he clearly hated the taste. My husband told him he could have something else, but he shook his head and swallowed that purple juice like a stalwart. The girls were rolling with laughter because they knew just what was going on. "Poor kid," my husband said to me under his breath. But the kid did okay. I loved hearing the three of them together. There was much laughing and excited teenage chatter all afternoon.

Today, my girl had her first college interview, which she said went fine and could I please stop questioning her about it because after all, it was done. After, we went to lunch at Tom's, the diner featured on Sienfeld, and then we walked across the Columbia campus because the leaves were changing and called us in. We sat on the sundial and just chatted and soaked in the crisp clear color of the day. We took a couple of what my daughter calls "selfies," pictures you take of yourself holding the camera at arms length. I must be feeling pretty good today because I'm actually posting a photo of myself. I'm just charmed to be with my beautiful daughter.

Our lovely baker is at this moment making raspberry lemon squares for cooking club tomorrow. Sunday night is baking night in our house. I'm really going to miss this. I said to her, "I really going to miss you when you go to college." She looked at me for a beat or two and then she said, "Well, that's depressing." And then we both burst out laughing.


  1. Dear Angella-

    I don't know how we'll manage it, but we have to get together for dinner. You and your man, and me and the old lady, and some table absolutely covered in killer food, and wine and drinks, and maybe somewhere your man and I could sneak off for a cigar in the dark, and a pile of books, and some art to look at, and, and, and.....

    I just know we'd blow the top off the world.

    I know it.



  2. It is nice to see a picture of you! You are just lovely.

    My dad used to scare my boyfriends. He is a big and burly man. He had long and hair and a beard then and could have passed for a biker. The thing was, he is kind, funny and gentle as a lamb. I don't think hurts to have a dad that makes the boys a little nervous!

  3. You both are such beauties. Love you both!

  4. Said it before and will say it again - LOVE your family!!

    If I had known that family could be like yours, I would have made different life choices. (No regrets, and I'm so glad you have such a great life!)

  5. I wish you could get you some chickens. I was thinking tonight about how easily and beautifully chickens fit into a life where there is an empty nest. It makes no real sense, but it's true as the blue of the sky.
    It would be good to get them now so that you would have something to bolster you against the coming change.
    Ah well. Grandmother stuff.
    I love you, woman. I do.

  6. How beautiful and gracious you are. I feel less so today Sunday Sunday Sunday and I'm glad to come here to read and to look at photos. It feels like getting invited to an adult's house every once in a while and being amazed how things can fit and work and roll along.

  7. Scott, i can hardly wait. It will be a beautiful gathering indeed. somewhere, in a parallel reality, it is happening right now. i know because i am smiling just thinking about it. love to you and yolie, so much love.

    Birdie, my husband is big and bearded, too, and a gentle teddy bear. my daughter laughs at the fact that boys find him scary. she rather enjoys it. and when a boy can walk right in and make eye contact and engage, she enjoys that too.

    Mark, you are so kind. love to you too!

    Nola, we are twin souls living out our opposite experiences, remember? who says we can't have it all?

    Ms. Moon, chickens sound divine around now, especially the way you describe dolly. i have been burying my fingers in her feathers in my imagination ever since you described their softness. i know you sense the coming change is big. i know it will be. i'm going to be like tearful and hang on tight. i'll probably be right here a lot, too. i love you, too, woman. big time.

  8. dear rebecca, this is one of the good days! everything worked today, so i am glad you came by and caught us impersonating grown ups. i love when we manage it.

  9. You both are just the cutest thangs. Really. The eyes, the eyes, the eyes --

  10. Impersonating grown-ups, hahaha, I love that.

    So beautiful you are, and your family.

    I bet you feel like I do, about ten years old with wrinkles wondering how it all happened.

    Thanks for all this.
    love d

  11. Deirdre, i feel just as you do! how did you know? i remember when i took my first child home from the hospital i was incredulous that they were actually sending him home with me and trusting me to care for him. i feel like i'm making it up every second! i love you, woman.

  12. so so thankful for you. for our paths crossing.
    I love the story of your holiday weekend. How it makes me feel loved too.
    and grateful.

    and this photo of you and your daughter? priceless beauty. I know how hard it's going to be without her next year. I know.