the squibix family blog

After that we got some ice cream.

I was all set to, in this post, write about how happy I was to have rediscovered automobile transportation. When we were in Maine we all really enjoyed being able to range widely and stop whenever something caught our attention—or when someone needed a break from the car. Now that we once again have two working motor vehicles and two legally licensed drivers, I figured we could have some of that same freedom in the metro-Boston area: why not drive all over the place and, say, find a new playground every day?! But then I read this article, and never mind—we have to get back to human transportation. That's alright, I need to be getting more exercise anyways.

Then we hung out in camp; luckily, Zion is clearly an expert at relaxing. The rain was intermittent so we looked for indoor events to do. We stopped by the Oceanarium, but despite advance billing it wasn't sufficiently child-friendly—in fact they didn't even let us buy tickets. A brewery tour had the advantage of being free entertainment, but it didn't quite hold the attention of the kids (to say nothing of poor Rascal, left behind in the car). Happily, the sky started to clear in the evening so Harvey and Mama were able to spend some time at the pool and playground. And unsettled weather sure makes for a pretty sunset!

Parts of the island were very remote (but I still met some joggers out there). Everything flowering was purple.

Other parts were entirely civilized, and crowded with pedestrians and golf carts. Or at least paved.

Before too long I had to go home, but hopefully we'll be going back again soon!

He should know by know that the journey is as much fun as the destination—well, if not the journey itself then the intermediate destinations along the way. We made our first stop in Searsport intending to look in at Left Bank Books (which we've enjoyed before), but were distracted by the sight of the ocean down a side street. When we explored and found a playground we made a quick change of plans.

I wasn't in the best of moods, thanks to an enormous cut on my foot, but everybody else had a great time playing on the variety of great playground equipment (even Rascal: he got away when we opened the car and ran all over the place before we could collect him). Then of course we had to check out the water, especially since Harvey found a "swimming girl"—or "swimmin guller" in his idiolect—that clearly needed a place to swim.

Coming from Massachusetts, where shoreline access is strictly controlled and rationed, it's always exciting to find places like this. Yeah, that's the ocean; it's always there; go down and visit if you feel like it... We sure did!

After another tantrum we were back in the car and on to Camden, where Zion nursed and Harvey and I learned about local literary figures.

We also enjoyed watching the seabirds: ducks (and ducklings!), seagulls, and cormorants. The former were very disappointed that Harvey didn't have anything better than rocks to offer them.

There was one more stop, but it didn't produce any pictures: a highway rest area on I-95 (I don't even remember which state!). One of our few failings as hippies is how much we enjoy McDonalds, so we were very disappointed when the timing of our dinner stop produced only a Burger King—all the more so when I saw the prices. They may have been inflated for the captive highway audience, but all I could bring myself to afford was ten small chicken nuggets, and Harvey ate most of those. Luckily we still had some leftover peanut noodles and homemade bread—not to mention the last of the cookies.

This time the tantrum came before we left, when a game of "hit people with sticks" turned bad (who could have imagined?!). But that just meant that we were all ready to pile back into the car and roll through the last of the homeward miles.

Now what's the next adventure going to be?

Tomatoes are probably my favorite thing to grow, thanks to a combination of high yields and tastiness; not to mention that I love the smell of the plants themselves. Every year I figure out the tomato-production process a little better. This year the innovation was staking (rather than cages) for the big tomatoes, and also proper pruning—which I finally figured out with help from a youtube video. Even us back-to-the-land types need help from modern technology from time to time.

I anticipate soon having more tomatoes than I can even give away, but for now we're enjoying every one. That big orange one went into a tabouleh salad for dinner this evening.

Come by next week and take some home for your own salads or sandwiches!

As I may have mentioned before, I like to grow "crops" in my garden. That is, I want to plant enough beans that we can, on any given day, pick enough to serve for dinner. We've got the space; might as well take full advantage of it! The only problem, as you have no doubt already perceived, is that enough beans on any given day means that many beans, at a minimum, three times a week. We can't quite handle that much. In this particular case we don't have to because the beans aren't doing as well as they might—but suffice it to say that we have vegetables to spare. Here's a way to get rid of them!

At the same time, I don't want to discount the—what is it?—radical anti-capitalism inherent in this effort. It's early days of course, and we're not going to bring down the Whole Foods produce department or anything like that, but there's something very nice about sharing. I've always felt like I should be giving away food, but I tend to not be forward enough to visit with people and bring them things. This way I can share with more than just the friends who come to visit us.

In theory, anyways. One of the problems we're having with the stand so far is that sitting out in the sun all day isn't really good for tomatoes and peppers, so I don't want to pick tremendous quantities to display. On the other hand, if there's not a lot out there then people won't feel comfortable taking anything. A conundrum, but one that can probably be solved by a few weeks of steady operation—to get folks used to the idea—and a roof over the stand to keep out the sun. That's in process; we had an umbrella for a while but it blew into the street and got run over.

So there it is. I hesitate even to mention it here, so limited and insignificant is the effort thus far. But it's something we're doing, and I suppose advertizing won't hurt either. So if you're in the neighborhood, come on down!

Last time we made this trip Harvey very much enjoyed the fish hatchery, so we asked our hosts for a repeat performance. It was just as much fun a year and a half later—more so, even, because I managed to photograph some of the fishes and because we had one more person to thrill to the fishes' hungry splashings.

It was also a bit warmer—but not as much as you might have expected, given that our last visit was in April. Still, below-average temperatures never keep us from the beach, even if they do cause us to choose wading over actual swimming. Even Zion declined to immerse himself—but that might have been due to tiredness. Still, we love a beach!

And of course, the Barrettes gave us a great lunch—and enough after-beach snacks to make dinner unnecessary. Thanks guys... Sandwich is great!

Our guests were the Stevenses and their friends (and ours!) Brent and LeAnna and family, who blog at The Wonders Of. It was a great time, and in preparation our house was clean for approximately four hours—of course, we were out for three and a half of those, but it's still got to be worth something.

Our activity level over recent days has been pretty taxing—especially on Leah, who's the one who makes sure everything happens the way it should—but I'm glad we were able to host everyone this evening. The kids, all 10 of them under 8, had a great time running around the yard and tipping each other off of the hammock, and the grown-ups got to sit and talk at least a little bit. And I really enjoy being able to offer hospitality, making a comfortable space for folks to come and hang out—even when everything isn't perfectly clean and prepared (though we did do a pretty awesome job in the hour and a half between church and the pond!).

There's more excitement planned for tomorrow, too: a trip to the big city. Will we survive? Who knows; right now Leah and I are sitting quietly in separate rooms engaging in mental recovery and preparation. It sure is hard being adventurous and popular when you're an introvert!

As plotted by Google Maps the route from our house to the Public Garden is just a bit over 17 miles, one way. Naturally, by the time we got there we had worked up a pretty good appetite for our packed lunch.

After dining we met up with our friends (including Harvey and Zion's friend Timothy) and, once everyone had gathered around to hear me read the famous story—of course we brought it along, we had to compare the pictures with the real thing!—we headed over to the duckling statues.

There was quite a crowd trying to get their turn on the ducks, mostly for photo-op purposes, so the kids didn't get to play as long as they might have liked (not that I can cast stones, of course: I had my camera out the whole time). But the ducklings were definitely experienced, to everyone's great pleasure.

Next up was the Swan Boats, which turned out to be pleasantly affordable. We decided that the ride around the pond was the first time on a boat for both Zion and Harvey, which still seems shocking to me. But in any case it was a very pleasant excursion: wonderfully quiet and relaxing thanks to the pedal-powered nature of the boats (Leah noted that all our transportation for the day was pedal-powered!). And there really are ducks living on the island, like in the book.

Then it was on to more active pursuits. Somehow I never knew that you could swim in the Frog Pond in the summer—for free, even!—but needless to say as soon as the kids saw it they were in the water.

After they dried off—and note that this was all without swimsuits or towels, since we had no expectation of bathing—it was onto the nearby Tadpole playground. It was fun but included some water features, so when our injunctions to stay out of the fountains! started to wear off, we had to find another place to play. The next playground, out on the Esplanade along the Charles River, was pretty fancy.

It was really designed for bigger kids, but there was still enough to keep our little ones occupied for quite a while—longer than Timothy wanted to stay awake. We bid him and his parents goodbye and then Mama and Zion played some more while Harvey and I walked around and looked at the river. Harvey was very interested in seeing the spot where Mr. and Mrs. Mallard made their nest, and we also worked out the route they took to get to the Public Garden. Of course, back then Storrow Drive wasn't a divided highway—good thing!

On the way home we stopped to pick up some dinner, and ate it at a picnic table on the shores of Spy Pond in Arlington. With the proximity to water I was prepared to tell the kids that they couldn't swim because of the poison algae, but they were so tired that it never came up. They did enjoy the food, though.

We finally made it home at around 7:00, after nine and half hours away from home. We felt kind of bad for abandoning Rascal all that time, so we'll probably stay home tomorrow and give him some attention. We might need a bit of rest ourselves, too!

We were chatting about the deal with the cashier at Chip-In Farm—after I asked Harvey if he had five cents I could borrow—and she told us how she had some pictures of her younger brother that he wished had never been taken, including one with a headband. He's in high school, the age when embarrassment is one of the three main emotions for guys (along with lust and hunger I guess), but I hope that Harvey is never embarrassed by this or any of the other photos we post of him.

We put up pictures of our kids, and write about them, because we think the aspects of their personalities that those pictures and stories reveal are so amazing and wonderful that they should be shared. Yes, I can imagine a situation where Harvey grows up wishing no one had ever seen him wearing a million Mardi Gras bead necklaces, or kissing his baby brother while wearing a diaper, or even looking like an angel on the Christmas Card, but I think the world would be a better place if it let him keep thinking that all those things are totally awesome, just like he thought they were at the time. We saw a little boy in tutu the other day, over his shorts and Red Sox t-shirt, and it was a great look; I say let's have more of that kind of free-spiritedness in people of all ages instead of permitting in the young but then squashing it out in the name of conformity.

All that is to say, grown-up Harvey: I apologize in advance if you ever regret these outfits or these images, but I think you're about the coolest guy there is.