posts tagged with 'memories'
notes on the year's moments
As I was going through pictures for yesterday's post, I had a few thoughts about the year that's past. First and most terrifyingly, it was really warm! All of the boys wore shorts at some point in every month except January. Last year's winter was very short, though we had lots of fun skating and did get a few beautiful sledding days, though nowhere near as many as we would have liked. Climate change is scary.
I also noticed our outdoor activities changed some from the year before (though of course we still spent more time than ever outside!). We did less biking, which feels kind of sad; we improved a lot as MTBers in 2021 and I had hoped that trend would continue in 2022. One good reason it didn't, though, is because we spent lots more time outside with friends, and our friends don't like biking as much as we do.
But of course that friend time was super fun and worth it! A big part of it was park day, which after we started it in September 2021 saw its first anniversary and its first full calendar year in 2022. It helped a lot with our outside hours total, because it was the rare Wednesday when we didn't spend close to four hours, or even more, at the park with a fun crew of kids and adults. There was also Backyard Farm Club, which grew out of the park day group and got going in May. We met weekly through the summer, and are now down to once a month, with less farm chores to occupy us. And then this fall we also started a new co-op group for learning and playing together, which has been meeting every Friday in our yard!
Of course, even with all of that we did get some time to adventure on our own. We explored some new places and visited old favorites. We traveled to the Cape and went camping not once, but twice! (though I realize I never wrote about our Maine adventure... oops! Our fall trip is here.) And this fall we spent some time at the ocean closer to home.
Those are the types of things that come through in pictures. We also read lots of books (and some of us played lots of video games), practiced writing, reading, and math, played music, did a little bit of art and a lot of gardening, and generally had a full and exciting year. Good thing I wrote so much of it down so I can remember it!
moments from the year
all of us
Here are some of the our top moments and images from 2019. I looked back though all the pictures we posted on this blog in the last year, and picked my favorites—either for aesthetic reasons or because of how much fun the moment was (usually a mixture of both!). I limited myself to three photos for each month, which was really hard, because there were so many good moments. But you have to have some standards. Here's to lots more wonderful moments in 2020!
January
New Years Day walk
on the slopes
out on the pond
February
enjoying his own private rink
boys with a book
getting some swinging in after playing at MIT
March
and spring silliness the next day
me hearty
back on the water
April
lamb barn
the fog of war
new suits for 2019
May
a fine spot for a birthday lunch
ocean!
caring for the little hens
June
yesterday's flowers still beautiful
always reading
midsummer spectacle
July
here comes one!
holiday sugar
adventurous
August
the ford in the meadow
playing for the World Championship
front yard camping
September
history in action
the beach is best in September
hiking into fall
October
battle on the bridge
more fires
fall wading
November
fall!
path blocked
Thanks!
December
this is the life!
midwinter cathedral
Christmas day in the morning
moments from the year
we're getting good at this!
Here are some of the our top moments and images from the year of 2017. I looked back though all the pictures we posted on this blog in the last year, and picked my favorites—either for aesthetic reasons or because of how much fun the moment was (usually a mixture of both). I limited myself to three photos for each month, which was really hard for some months, especially in the spring and summer when there were so many to chose from. Then in late fall my camera was broken and I hardly took any. Still, I think it's all pretty representative of the best parts of our year. Take a look!
January
angelic Zion
winter's snow and ice cream
he agreed to hold the sign I made
February
lovin the snowman
where you have to steer
summer hike in winter
March
blow Lijah blow
suited up again in March
two-horse open sleigh
April
close examination
we all love a parade
green and sparkling
May
arr, matey!
green at the riverside
the beach with dogs
June
showing his work
very good form
saying happy
July
grandfather-grandson bonding
it's working!
Concord River swimming
August
where did I bring them?!
mountaintop moment
basketboys
September
homeschoolers' field trip
have you ever seen a more hippy homeschool scene?
sunset September swim
October
the fall yard
wave jumping
crowded with revelers
November
backyard campfire
chicken for lunch?
playing on roofs
December
hitting the slopes
all is calm
yay winter
[Full disclosure for future readers... this post was actually posted retroactively, in July. Shh, don't tell anyone!]
moments from the year
the family that hikes together poses together
I didn't really take any pictures this past week, so instead of moments from the week I'd like to present a few highlight moments from 2016. I looked back though all the pictures we posted on this blog in the last year, and picked my favorites—either for aesthetic reasons or because of how much fun the moment was (usually a mixture of both). I limited myself to three photos for each month, which was really tricky for some months. For others—July and November—the pickings were surprisingly slim. I think it's all pretty representative of the best parts of our year. Take a look!
January
at 18 degrees farenheit
homeschool coop explorers 2
back in the saddle in late January
February
he swears he can see
monkey with banana
another tree pose
March
now that's a playground
winter's last
not happy
April
interactive history
comfey brothers
jump in!
May
there's a lot going on in this picture, actually
friends
big lick
June
in the mud
by evening he decided he liked the water
party time
July
Harvey's independence
look at them go
cool down time
August
relaxed and happy
Maine feet
Walden waves
September
september ice cream
now that's how you swim in the ocean
party night
October
new swing
fall energy
wade in the water
November
night hiking
thankful and joyful
getting out early
December
peaceful
Christmas tree play
Christmas cousins
partying like it's 1992
Leah and I don't really do movies. But thanks to their culture loving grandpa, the boys get to experience all the greatest animated hits of the last half-century or more; two weeks ago it was the turn of Aladdin. For the most part, Grandpa provides a complete service: he shows them the films, and talks about them, and plays through the imaginative reenactments, all so we don't have to. But Aladdin's music is a cut above the rest—several cuts above—and it's leaked through to daily life here in our house. After two weeks of requests to sing the songs, including on almost every car trip (our car stereo is out of action, so singing is all we got), yesterday morning I finally broke down and procured the soundtrack. We were treated to three and a half playthroughs before I called a halt and told the boys they had to go outside.
Not that I minded the music: Leah and I wouldn't remember it if it weren't so catchy, and while they were listening (and dancing and acting) the boys left me alone to do work. As Leah remarked, it's funny how they constructed the score as by layering a few stereotypical Arabic instrumental sounds (not entirely racist in effect) over some 20s-style jazz. It sounds good, and would have sounded even better if Robin Williams had sung his lines rather than acted them. Good, that is, except for the Magic Carpet song. Guess which one I had stuck in my head as I was getting ready for bed last night?
And the funny thing is, as I heard the saccharine tones playing in my mind I didn't think of the movie at all; no, what came to mind was listening to KISS 108 radio back in 1993 or whatever. Up next "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)" by the Proclaimers, or "All For Love" by Bryan Adams, Rod Stewart, and Sting. Good heavens the early 90s were a tough time for music. I had to resort to Wikipedia to recollect the details of the latter gem; but clearly the concept still haunts me. Thank goodness I discovered Sonic Youth a couple years later, and free jazz shortly thereafter, and was able to leave commercial music behind forever.
But yeah, "Friend Like Me" still sounds pretty good. At least for the first three plays in an hour.
a long run
When Leah and I moved into our first ever home together—well, the first one where it was just our names on the lease—a friend gave us a pair of dish towels. They were wonderful examples of the genre: colorfully striped in durable cotton. They served us well for that year in Arlington as I slowly learned to cook, then made the move to this house the following year and continued to do noble duty. None more than the last year when we've been getting by without a dishwasher, for no reason other than a bizarre intersection of ideology and laziness that I can't figure my way around. But alas, after 11 years of hard service their race is nearly run and, rent in numerous places, they're destined for the scrap bin or even the trash can. It's a little sad—they were great dish towels—but no towel lives forever.
The colander we got in the same gift, on the other hand, is still going strong—and we got a pair of new towels from my mother for Christmas. So that's ok.
objects in the rearview mirror
We are currently working on selling a car and buying a bigger one. Both cars are used and crappy. The potential difference between their prices is well within the range of our federal tax refund. Which is all to say this should be a low stress transaction. This shouldn't break my ability to cope with normal life.
But Oh God I am so completely stressed out.
The first car I bought was a '91 Toyota Corolla. To say "I bought it" is speaking loosely. The fact is, when I turned 16 my father searched for a used car. He located a good one, went to see it, and negotiated the price. He wrote a check, added the vehicle to his insurance, drove the thing to our house and handed me the keys. My part consisted of turning over $2000 I had saved from my Bat-Mitzvah. I didn't have to write a check because our accounts were linked. This was technically "my money," but it's not like I did anything to earn it. I showed up one day to a party with all my relatives and there was the car money three years in advance.
I learned to drive on that car. I drove it for a year after I got my license. Then I crashed it into the back of a SUV while I was trying to change the song away from "Istanbul not Constantinople." My Dad bought me another used Corolla the following week. No one yelled at me. This is the sort of thing that happens, my parents said. Everyone was glad I hadn't killed myself or my younger brother who I was driving to advanced math class at the time. Really good I didn't kill my brother, actually. He always had a higher earning potential than me.
In college I studied abroad and my parents sold the Corolla to a friend who needed a car for his daughter. My dad called me long distance before I was to return home from France. "I'm thinking of buying a new car for you," he said. "What do you think of a Jetta? All the cool kids are driving Jettas these days."
"Um, okay? Sounds good?"
"You can go online and pick the color."
This is how I obtained the car I am currently selling. A dark green VW Jetta, asking price: not my money anyway. Our new family van will be purchased with the proceeds (a tenth of what my Dad paid for it 12 years ago) plus money my husband earned through his work, or money from an inheritance he got last year, or money we get free from the government for having two cute tax deductions. I can send emails and set up showing times and think about a negotiation strategy, but really I am playing a part I don't deserve in a game that does not need me in it.
I have been called a great many names over the course of my life. People routinely call me fat, for instance. And though this is rude and irritating it does not cut to the core of me, because despite my vile self-mockery on this blog or when I'm naked with my husband, I'm actually secretly happy with my body. But there is one name so terrible that no one has ever called me it. No one has thought to say it because I'm always flitting around cleaning or crafting or making snacks, always working as fast as I can to run away from the label I secretly believe is true. In the dark secret corner of my heart I know that I am USELESS.
Unhelpful. Unnecessary. Not worth my salt. Extraneous to the process, and yet pretending to belong somewhere within it. Selling or buying or owning a car reminds me that this has always been true.
I want to end the blog post here, but perhaps that'd be a bit unfair. It feels EMOTIONALLY true of course, but it cannot literally be so. There are a great many things each of us gets that we don't deserve. The list should probably start with "salvation," but it could also include food stamps or the baby monitor my mom just bought me or the free public wifi network that's available in many parts of the US but not in other countries.
That we have not done something to deserve these gifts merit some reflection, though perhaps not a complete breakdown into self loathing. And that is the rational side of my brain talking. Making itself useful, if you will.
continuity
Just now as I struggled to put the comforter cover on the comforter without waking Harvey I had a flashback to six years ago, back when the bed was new. I was super-proud of myself back then, I suddenly recalled very clearly, the first time I wrestled the thing together without disturbing the sleeping Leah. Isn't that a touching family connection?
(It's not that we do our laundry late at night, it's just that we usually have better things to do than put the bed together until the point at which we want to go to bed. Somethings, clearly, we wait a little bit too long.)