Bright Hot comments: 47

I have been so busy and so happy. For one thing, I cleaned part of my house (the kitchen, and some of the living room). That kept me busy and made me so happy. I tried to make a list of some other stuff I really needed to do and got very overwhelmed and confused. Eventually I did make the list but then I immediately went to the river. That made me very happy. The next day we went downtown for the parade (why do marching bands always make me cry?) and the fountain and the fair and the boats. That made me happy. The next day the weather was scorching. That made me sad! But I have air conditioning and that made me happy. There's a lot of happy/sad talk at home right now. Amelia is figuring out how to express these two things, and figuring out how other people express them (no one here has much trouble expressing themselves). Most things make us happy. A few things make us sad. When she throws a plate of strawberries that I just cut up for her on the floor (she's a big thrower, ugh), she touches my arm gently, "Mom, are you sad? You sad, Mom?" Then, she pats my arm, consoling: "It's okay. It's okay." Turning her face up to look into mine. Oh, sweet, dear love! She makes me laugh fifty or sixty times a day. I'm starting to write down so many of the funny things she is saying. I love this age so much!!!

One thing that made me unbelievably happy was getting to spend an entire day with Amanda while she was here in Portland this week. I HAD THE BEST TIME. We had a sweet little lunch at Maurice, which is like a tiny little jewel box of light and deliciousness, then just hung out at Powell's for the entire afternoon?!? Not only do I not ever do things like either of those two things anymore, but . . . with Amanda, who is as thoroughly awesome as you would expect. The girl is beauty through and through. I love her. What a great day. Thank you, Amanda, for being you, and for coming to visit. You inspire and delight and teach (and have taught) me more than I can ever say.

And today, oh! It's cool and cloudy! I panic, not sure what to do with such a perfect day! (It was in the 90s over the weekend! It was horrible!) The woods are calling. Maybe the farm. Maybe the river. Summer, you overwhelm me with goodness. Where to start?

Birthday Beauty comments: 104

Andy had a birthday last week and I'm still glowing with happiness for what turned out to be an awesome weekend. I "surprised" him with a couple of nights at the river cabin and a trip up the mountain for breakfast. I say "surprise" because I forgot to tell pretty much everyone else it was a surprise, and he woke up on his birthday to his phone blowing up with sweet texts, several of which said something like, "Happy Birthday, Andy! Have fun at the cabin this weekend!" He's all, Um, honey, what cabin? Oooopsie. Oh, sweet love, it was the best. Amelia sauntered around, free and excited and happy and big and loud and thrilled and thrilling. I sat and listened to the river, and watched the sun move, and smelled the pine. Andy crocheted (that's his squirrel head, Marty — Andy is such an amazing crocheter — he's cagey about his Ravelry page — I will get details) and chased Meems and threw rocks in the river. We had breakfast at beloved Timberline on Sunday morning and hiked a little way up the path behind the lodge, from which you can see a stunning view of Mt. Jefferson peeking above the valley (camera cannot capture the panorama here). On Monday morning we woke up to rain splashing the river. Everything so green. Birds singing. Flowers blooming. Baby marching. What a great weekend. Happy Birthday, my dear, sweet, amazing, wonderful, lovely, exceptional Andy Paulson. My true love. Happy, happy, happy birthday. I love you. Xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Splash! comments: 107

Summer has come kerplunking in this week — today it's supposed to be 80-something degrees, and, suddenly, it's here. Bees are buzzing, flowers are blooming, grass is growing, sidewalks are being chalked, iced lattes are being ordered. It's still light out toward 9:00 p.m. The grill has been lit, the plants need water, the plums are already starting to fall on my sidewalk. Last weekend the weather was chilly and overcast. Suddenly, now, it's summer.

I have absolutely no plan for the summer. Nothing. There's nothing in place. Not that there ever is. But we really have no plan. I'm not great at volleying at the net. I feel that I should come up with something, even if it's just some general organizing idea? I don't know. Watering the yard with a toddler can take all afternoon, for instance, so I suppose there's really not that much need for a plan. . . .

Thank you to everyone who commented about my library post. Your comments were very poignant — so many people have memories of libraries, and so many libraries seemed to have changed. That was so surprising to me. I don't know why. I thought libraries were so immutable! Why would I think that? Newspapers have changed, and I used to think the same of them. Thank you to those of you with information about or offers to take pictures of the River Forest Public Library! I really enjoyed hearing news about it, thank you. I think this summer maybe Amelia and I will do a library tour, and go check out a bunch of the Portland branches and see what they have for us. She's even sort of letting me read my own book everyone once in a while which feels fantastic. Right now I still have Sometimes a Great Notion, Brideshead Revisited, and Canada by Richard Ford in my backpack. Those all seem too hard, don't they? I don't know what I want. But I think it should be lighter than these. There's a reason they call 'em "beach reads," right? (Not these, I mean — the other ones I don't actually have. . . .) Because it's hot in the summer and you need something light. I think I want something funny. . . .

Summerblooming comments: 60

We were going to go hiking but then instead of going straight we turned left, and found ourselves at the river. It's time to put the summer stuff in the car — an extra bathing suit, sunscreen, camp chair, shovels and cups, quilt, binoculars. It's time!

"Do you like the river?"
"Yes."
"Do you like the sand?"
"Yes."
"Do you like the birds?"
"Yes."
"Do you like the trees?"
"Yes."
"Do you like the . . . rocks?"
"Yesssssss."
"Do you like throwing sand on the blanket?"
"Yes."
"I thought so."

Everything is draped in flowers right now. The roses droop majestically and we admire. My little raised beds in the front look scruffy and random, peppered with poppies, alyssum, yellow daisy things, white statice, other things, I have no idea what. The weather has been so unbelievably perfect. I hold my breath.

My sweater comes along! The color is extremely uninspired. The yarn is nice to work with, though I wish my cable were longer. I feel like my stitches are all squished on my cable and I don't like that. I think my other cables are in my basket of shamefully incomplete WIPs. That's like, double lame. Not only are the projects not finished, they have needles/cables sitting in them. Perhaps I should be not so lazy and do something about that. Bah.

Our friends made dinner for us at their beautiful home Saturday night. Their seven-year-old daughter answered the door when we arrived and then wordlessly came out to the porch and squatted down and threw her arms around Amelia, who threw her arms back around her. They stood like that, hugging each other, for a long minute and I almost cried. Sylvie doted on Amelia all night long, letting her play with every toy, bringing her everything she wanted, playing with her for hours. Amelia watched Sylvie and tried to do everything she was doing: eating with a fork, not throwing food at the dog, coloring on the paper and not on the table. When it was time to go home, we were all saying our goodbyes and I asked Amelia to return the baby carriage to Sylvie's room. She wheeled it down there but then didn't come back out. I went down the hall to find her and there she was, alone in Sylvie's (absolutely adorable) bedroom, fully tucked into her big-girl bed, with the covers pulled up to her chin. Serious, hopeful look on her face. God I love this kid.

 

Outside, Outside comments: 87

Andy worked Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, so Meems and I were out and about most of the weekend: children's museum, Crystal Springs garden, farmer's market, a picnic with friends, playground, watering our plants at home (can you believe it? Everything already needs water), a little bit of napping  and breezes through the window. It was HOT out. April, and summer is here.

Inside (and this is why I really don't want to be inside) it appears that every single drawer, shelf, and cabinet in this house needs to be emptied, organized, and refilled. Like, every single one. I can't open anything without a tangle of toothbrushes, skirts, books, cans, piles of patterns, dresses (yes, I keep my dresses in a drawer), cough-drop wrappers, toys, dolls, parts of toys, parts of dolls, doll clothes, cars, ribbons, washcloths, muddy shoes, lone socks, ponytail holders, more books, piles of fabric, and take-out Thai containers falling on me. HOWL. I am a disaster. My house is so disorganized right now. I can't stand it. When in the world am I going to have time to do all this? I don't know.

I seriously think that because we spent so much time outside this "winter," the normal nesting things that need to happen when you've lived in a house for fifteen years (I can't believe it's been fifteen years), didn't happen, because we just kept going outside. And now that it's summer, it's . . . summer. And we keep going outside.

I need a plan. And to stay home occasionally.

***Details about her dresses are here. :)

Edgefield comments: 45

Spent the day with my sister Susie at Edgefield; April 6, 2015. Spring there is green, soft, quiet, a little enchanted, a little haunted, a little empty, certainly lovely. I've been to Edgefield many (wonderful) times in full summer, on golden evenings, with beers and bands and blankets. But now, in the spring, on an overcast afternoon, you can see its dim, gentle, melancholy beauty, and I almost prefer it.

Spring Joy comments: 55

Afternoon at the river, which we had (gloriously) all to ourselves, until Amelia said, "Home!" and put on her own shoes and started walking by herself across the sand back toward the car :: Dark storms and ruby-glowing dogwood trees :: Andy-made chocolate chip cookies from this recipe, and they were indeed very good (Denise's suggestion — thank you, Denise!) :: A rhubarb pie from this recipe, which is delicious (if you like goo, which I do) :: A spinach souffle from this recipe which I thought was just . . . meh (needs more spinach, less egg, in my opinion) :: A chocolate cake from this recipe (which has replaced Hershey's Deep Dark for me — this one is better, and you can let the kiddos lick the spatula because, no eggs [irony]!) and our favorite frosting :: Cake baked by me and decorated by Meems (which made Andy laugh his head off when he got home and saw it) :: An attempt to take a photo of the vest, of which I am already knitting another, as this thing is just what I've been wanting :: Going out to get a columbine plant, a dozen more eggs to bring to the Easter egg hunt tomorrow, and Thai food for lunch with my dearest, darling, sweetest, most wonderfully wonderful girl.

Wishing you all a truly joyful weekend filled with love and springtime things! Xoxoxoxo

Some Things comments: 52

Oregon, there are some things you do very, very well, tulips and hazelnut fields being two of them.

Wooden Shoe Tulip Farm with friends; March 27, 2015. (About a month earlier than we went last year. And weirdly, I made the same pie in that post the other day, too.)

Rainy-Day Dress comments: 54

Last week, those trees in the photo above were covered in blossoms. Only last week. Already, now, they are spattered in spring green, and growing leaves by the day. Spring is both fast and slow. In Oregon, sometimes spring lasts well into June. That's the perfect spring, as far as I'm concerned, one that hits with a bang in February but lasts until June. Yes, please!

I've had a stressful week, filled with lots of little and large stresses and struggles, mostly in my own mind and of my own making. Ahhhh, modern life, you challenge me. Some days, especially the lovely rainy ones, I'd like to lay on the sofa and watch Outlander all day (though, wow, it's so intense, isn't it? I think it is). I feel quite certain I could do that, maybe alternating with episodes of Kipper the dog, all day. There's no such chance, but I bet you I could. I'd knit, like, 50,000 yards of worsted weight into tiny toddler vests for my boo and feel quite satisfied in every way.

The majority of my creative energy has been put into knitting versions of this pattern until I get the one I like. I made longer shoulders, knit the wrapped stitches (after all the short rows) on the wrong side so that I could get two mirror-image halves, joined them in the back before picking up the rest of the stitches to go up the back, then cast off the neck edge and made little back shoulder straps. None of which is yet pictured here, but I'm just saying. I'll show you when I get a picture of it. It worked. I've been wanting something like this for Meems for spring. Now if I can just get her to wear it. She calls all of her sweaters and knitwear her "fuzzies." Sweet love!

The slide picture (note pine cone being hurled) and the Mt. Hood picture (taken from work — he sends me these almost every morning) are all by Andy and his iPhone. He is amazing with that thing, seriously. He is amazing, period.

***She put almost every single thing that was on the stove and on the shelves into the oven or down the sink hole.

***The teddy is mine, from when I was her age. :)

Queen of the Neighborhood comments: 70

We stumbled upon this incredible tree a couple of weekends ago, right at golden hour. Isn't it just breathtaking? All of these pictures are from the same tree, over about a fifteen minute period, just after dinner. Beautiful tree.