So I’ve been terribly remiss getting my pictures up and on the computer. With very little preamble, let me present to you:
– Pictures from Justice’s funeral
– Many neighborhood babies
– Apple-picking/rough-housing
– Mr. Toothless
– Adam’s birthday game night
– Thane’s fourth birthday
– Halloween
– Leaf raking
– Mocksgiving
and finally
– A trip to Plimouth Plantation (taken today, in unseasonably delightful weather)
I’ve had a very long day today. I rose at 4:30 am to make a 7 am flight out of Boston. The TSA lines were very, very short. The folks manning them cheerful, efficient and thorough. There did not seem to be any pall cast over Logan as we flew out, the pinking sky in the east making silhouettes of clouds. I flew to Atlanta, the time collapsing in the liberty of the constraint of an airline seat.
I’d thought that I had about an hour before my colleague arrived at the airport, and I was just lowering myself into a massaging chair for a manicure (I know! Such luxury! But I’d meant to get a manicure before I went client-facing and it seemed like too good an opportunity to pass up!). My phone rang. He’d gotten there early! Rats! I decided to get the manicure anyway, and my Northern impatient self attempted futily to relax at the Southern, relaxed rate of the service. However, if you believe I did not smudge Regina’s meticulous work, you do not know me well.
We had cajun, lemonade and planning for lunch, and then launched into a three hour meeting fueled by software architecture and coffee. I had fun. I know you’re not supposed to have fun at three hour business meetings, so I apologize but… well. I had fun anyway.
Then back to the airport, stumble through security (again: short lines, nice folks), exchange heels for socks, walk the entire length of the Altlanta airport, dinner, check my email on my phone (46 new message!) and find my seat. Now I’m enjoying in-air wifi (oh! What a marvel technology is!) and feeling satisfactorily tired and accomplished and urbane. We’re probably somewhere around Pennsylvania right now – give or take.
Tonight I’ll rescue my car from the parking lot (only one day!), drive darkly over the Zakim to the steepled towns of the North and kiss my sleeping children before I lay myself down next to my drowsy husband.
So I’ve been giving you the Camp Gramp updates for the last week or so. Obviously, Adam and I were not with our children. So what were we doing? A quick litany, for my remembrance and your enlightenment.
Friday night: Fly in. Very tired. Zzzzzz.
Saturday: Go to Seattle for family picnic and Gilbert and Sullivan’s Iolanthe. The family picnic was lovely. I got to see all my uncles & aunts on that side, if few of my cousins. The playground location meant that that kids had fun too. This was the first time my kids had gone to G&S. They were beautifully behaved, but a not-insignificant reason for that was because they were, well, asleep. Hard to fight the time zones, late hour, exercise and dark theater, I guess!
Sunday: Church (where I got to be the pianist) was followed by a quick lunch. Then Adam and I went up to Paradise on Mt. Rainier. It was snowy and crowded up there, but we had a nice hike. We came down and then went to Wellspring. It is such a glorious place she has built there for weddings. We hiked through her lovely grounds, got massages and sat in the hot tub with the best view ever.
Monday: We drove down to Ashland. We took the direct route instead of the ocean route, which made the 8 hour trip seem short by comparison.
Tuesday: We saw As You Like It. This is one of my favorite comedies, as beautifully executed as only Ashland can do it. (This was the play that initiated my celebrity crush on Ted Deasy back in 1997.)
Wednesday: We skipped our traditional three hour breakfast to go White Water River Rafting on the Upper Klamath. It was AWESOME. We saw tons of ospreys, quite a few bald eagles, and some adorable otters. The whitewater was fantastic. Seriously, those rapids are something else. It was awesome. However, we were TIRED when we got back that night, and we still had a play.
That night we saw Henry V, which I had just seen in London at that Globe theater. These were very different productions. That Henry had been downright funny, playing up the comedic aspects to the hilt. Ashland’s Henry V walked away from the humor and the funny lines, dwelling on the martial themes with absolute seriousness. As usual, I was ready to sign up on the dotted line after the Crispin Crispian days speech.
Thursday: We took our regular 3 hour breakfast. (I’ve been reading through Bujold’s Vorkosigan Saga). That night we saw The Merry Wives of Windsor, Iowa, which was a rewritten version of Shakespeare’s. They held on to the blank verse and the plot, but the marriages in question were gay marriages and the jokes very topical. It was VERY FUNNY. (And hey! It had Ted Deasy!)
Friday: Our last day out. Only a two hour breakfast. Before we left, though, one more play. We, through luck and good fortune, were at the world premiere performance of All the Way. The audience was packed with actors and dignitaries – the theater sold out. It was absolutely amazing. Our favorite play last year had been a Ghost Light… this was our favorite play this year. It went through Lyndon B. Johnson’s passing of the Civil Right’s Act and reelection. If that sounds dry, it wasn’t. It was very entertaining, and extremely educational (for those of us who did not live through it). There were big laughs, and times of tears. It was fascinating to hear how the arguments have changed in the last fifty years… and how they have not changed one whit. Some of the same arguments being made around civil rights you can still hear being made today. It was amazing. I highly recommend you go see it.
And now we’re back in Mineral, surrounded by young people who are related to us and getting ready to fly back to Boston tonight.
It was a great week!!!!
There is no crying at the Olympics!
Today is Olympics day. We are going to watch the opening ceremonies tonight so decided to have some competitions this afternoon for the kids. Mistake. It is very difficult to handicap a competition between three so divergent ages. Therefore, only Sebastian escaped tears.
We had a torch parade — 3 of the 4 glow sticks failed to work. Perhaps this is because they are about 5 years old. Thane won that one! His glowed. it is currently residing in his suitcase where he is convinced it will still be glowing when he gets home.
Thane lacks the competitive spirit — or more accurately, doesn’t understand hide and seek. He dropped out when he and I were the seekers and he noticed the Scooby Doo DVD paused on the downstairs TV. That was probably a good thing.
Grey was upset because he got found in hide and seek. They looked in his place. He didn’t want to participate in the outside competition, but was eventually lured out and did very well in jump out of the swing contest!
Kay hated soccer, which was the competition she asked for. When she kicked the ball, it went crooked. Also, she hated the legos competition to build the tallest tower. The blocks kept falling apart. Baz won that one too with an improbable creation.
The final competition was a team sport. Go to Dick’s store together and get as many nutritious snacks as possible with $1.25 each. What?! Candy provides nutrition! They started this competition happy. We will see how they come home.
The best laid plans of Gramama and Papapa ….
Today we went my kind of camping. We spent the afternoon and early evening at Eastcreek Campgrounds. Delightful! The stream is just right for the kids. Shade for me. A fire pit for Don. What more can you ask for? That, and coming home to sleep in a bed — with innersprings and all.
I wish I were in that bed with innersprings right now. I am tired. Today Thane asked me if I was going to make a baby. Well, no! I no longer have the energy required. But having sung my entire collection of songs — Go down medicine, The fly swallowing one, etc. — they are still awake. It is shameful to go to sleep before the children, shameful!
This morning the legos came out. They played peacefully for about 2 hours with legos. It was fun to listen to.
Grey made his ham and egg creation and Thane chose lunch, Mac and cheese. It has been fun to have the children involved in meals.
On the health front, Kay lost the most skin today. I have no idea how she did it, but she has a cut on her heel. It will be painful for a while. Honestly, it is amazing that Thane still has any skin left. That boy is the bump king. But he is so cheerful about it. Medicine and a bandaid and he is good to go again. I am concerned about his big toe.
Goodnight to all. Camp Gramp is wonderful. I have awesome grandkids!
The economics of Chuck E Cheese is fascinating, or perhaps it is the marketing. It is a study in inflation psychology. We got 120 tokens with our badly overpriced and mediocre pizza. That is 30 per child. All around us, machines screamed, “Play me.” There were lights and graphics and sounds. It is incredible noisy! You can shoot, drive, ride, or hit innocent small creatures on the head. You can have your picture taken. You can shoot basketballs and throw baseballs. Or you can try to drop your token into the slot for the jackpot. Grey ran around like mad and had finished the tokens before the pizza arrived. Thane likes putting the tokens in the slots but cares little for the tickets or the games. He likes the graphics, but he doesn’t need to interact with them. Kay likes cute things, but she did did spend quite a bit of time at a shooter. Baz is the most thoughtful of the players. He walks around looking, analyses each of the games to see what he likes best and what he is likely to get the most tickets from. He always finishes his tokens last.
After plowing through the 30 tokens Camp Gramp supported, Grey impulsively and Baz thoughtfully decided to invest their Camp Gramp spending money in another 50 tokens. It was unbelievably hard to let them do that! What a waste! But we didn’t say anything when Kay invested her Camp Gramp spending money in a blue bear clinging to a piece of candy and Thane spent his on a dinosaur egg — which when put in water actually hatched (actually, this was neat — but worth $3 not $10.) So all the spending money is gone now.
Back to Chuck E Cheese. The games you play spew out an incredible number of tickets. I picked up 26 of Thane’s. He wasn’t interested. Kay had 76 — she was interested. Grey got 140 — he was very interested. Baz earned an impressive 441 tickets. At the ticket “store”, each ticket is worth about a penny. Where do they find all that trash? You would think the children were starving because the candy was popular. Baz got a magic trick and a rocket, plus a bag of cotton candy. Kay got vampire teeth. She can hardly wait until her mouth gets big so they don’t hurt. Grey got CANDY! Thane got one of those packets of Koolaid type stuff with a little stick you use to dip in it. Don’t worry, he didn’t eat most of the pure sugar. He deposited it in the car seat. The vacuum cleaner took care of the mess.
What amazed me is that all the children were happy! They had a great time and they thought their prizes were wonderful. It was such trash! But they were happy. Is it the games or the tickets? What motivates the children to so deeply desire this particular Camp Gramp activity? And why don’t Don and I refuse? Amazing. We noticed the demographic is changing. There were more tweens and young adults there. The children’s section has shrunk and the adult games, car chases, etc., have increased.
The whole day was not consumed by CEC. We went to Hamma Hamma, an oyster farm on Hood Canal. It was very interesting! I know a job that will inspire you to go to college — oyster shucking! That looks brutal. If I can get them downloaded, there is a picture of the children on top of a pile of oyster shells. (The shadow at the top of the picture is not impending weather, but a finger!) They looked wonderful against the blue sky!
Speaking of college, our tour guide was wonderful. At the end of the tour, someone asked her if she went to college. “Yes” she said, “a little college in Vermont.” Class of 2004 — Middlebury. She is putting her degree in English literature to good use!
Then we went to the Olympic National Park — or a subsection of it — Seal Rock Camp Grounds — remember it, Matthew. The children played in the water for about an hour. It was a nice time. They don’t like the sun screen we have — I think there may be a little too much red on Thane’s face. Such bliss — water, rocks. It doesn’t get much better.
I would like to apologize to my children for making them take trips without DS or videos. It may not be the best interaction we can get, but it sure cuts down on the fighting and whining. I didn’t hear “are we there yet” more than twice.
Sleep is settling over our little camp and I am about to join them. It will never do to let them get ahead.
The health report: Baz feels fine. Thane spent the whole day coughing and informing us he was going to throw up — then not doing so. Since he revived in remarkable ways when something fun offered, we were not too worried. On the other hand, let’s not talk about the cuts. The rocks were a little sharp. Again, Thane won hands down! I love the therapeutic value of a little antiseptic wash! Medicine!
Well, folks, it’s the blog series you’ve all been waiting for! Yessirree, it’s CAMP GRAMP time! For those of you who have not yet met ths marvel, let me explain. Every summer, my parents gather up all their grandchildren and abscond with them for a week of adventures, bonding and Lucky Charms. We lucky parents then scoot to do non-child-friendly things. This is, by my count, about the 6th Camp Gramp.
And we’re off! An afoot! So, with no further ado before I start OUR drive down to the Oregon Shakespeare Festival in Ashland, I give you… CAMP GRAMP!
Camp Gramp Day # 1
Fabric paint! How could I have thought that was a good idea! The bright orange Camp Gramp shirts look awesome, but Grey’s pants, Kay’s shirt, and my jeans bear the marks of a painting party. The orange shirts went to church this morning, even on the pastor! No one will mistake our obvious togetherness. They will be washed often this Camp Gramp.
After the Saturday afternoon Camp Gramp work, putting up the tents and making the teeshirts, we went to Seattle for our annual Gilbert and Sullivan operetta. We had a lovely picnic in Rogers park with the family, then went to the Bagley Wright theater. The moment the curtain went up and the overture started, Thane, who was on my lap at the time, was enthralled. But due to the still Eastern time, he was asleep within 20 minutes, and so was Grey. Only Kay stayed awake until the end of the play. Iolanthe is not my favorite, but it was a good production. We returned home about 12:30, tired puppies all.
Today we went to church together. Brenda substituted at the piano — many thanks. Her offertory was very nice! (Eds. note: my piano playing is not my top musical skill, but I didn’t bring my trumpet.)
After lunch (mac and cheese and tuna fish — with chips — does it get any better than that) I got some down time. It has been a little busy lately. I was reading when I heard Kay say — “Just use the spoon. I will get a bowl of sugar for myself.” I went out to find Kay teaching Thane to eat sugar from a bowl. This particular educational activity I have discouraged!
Thane is also learning to use the DS. He is very excited, but not very proficient. I am hoping to teach him not to touch the top screen in hopes of changes. He got Grey’s StarWars game and erased his profile yesterday. There were tears. Then today Baz reminded Grey that at the same age, Grey had erased Baz’s Scriblenauts profile.
We had a remarkably lovely July 4th today. I should be in bed in fifteen minutes, so I’ll give you the condensed version.
For the second time this week, we went to Gloucester to the beaches there. And for the second time, we had a superb time. Today was absolutely perfect: the air was the right temperature, there was the right amount of sun, the sand was everything silicate particles should be and the water was delightful. Today we went to Good Harbor beach – Saturday we went to Fort State. Both were a tremendous amount of fun.
The waves were absolutely great at Good Harbor today – just right for splashing through, or jumping over, or boogie-boarding. They were enticing and entrancing. The boys are just finally getting old enough and sturdy enough to have fun in the waves – Thane with a careful hand on him at all times, and Grey with a newfound resilience as he fell under tumultuous waves and rose again grinning. They’re also old enough that I got to read a little on the beach, and we flew kites (they practically flew themselves). It was a sunny, sandy delight.
We were home just long enough for a farmshare salad and quick shower before packing a tired family into the car (plus two neighbors!) for the fireworks on Wakefield’s Lake Quannapowett. As we laid down our towels, the skies to the North looked dark. As darkness fell, flashes of lightning fought with flashes of illegal fireworks to light up the sky. By the time the display started in earnest, so had the thunderclouds behind it. It was really remarkable. We were completely dry, but lightning laced between clouds directly behind the truly remarkable display of fireworks. I must say, God’s display got the bigger applause from the crowd.
It started raining – bucketing – as we walked quickly back to the car.
But guys… it was SO COOL. Unfortunately, I have zero pictures from today because I was lazy at the beach, and figured that any pictures I could take of (normal) fireworks would be lame. I usually don’t take “scenery” pictures because others have done the exact same ones, only better. And my photography skills have not yet extended to fireworks, which are tricky. I’m terribly sad, but I’m hoping that someone else did much better and you’ll get to see how awesome it is as lightning laces its way through fireworks!
Yes, I now think it is time to become comatose! Happy 4th to all my American friends, and happy day to the rest of you!
Pictures from Saturday here!
Time to wrap up my last few days, I think.
Wednesday was a long day at work, concluding with a long client meeting. I had hoped that I might talk some of my colleagues into going to a pub with me, but helas, it was not to be. So I resolved to go find that neat looking pub I’d passed earlier in the day (it’s crazy, you can easily walk to visit multiple clients in our London office), Old Doctor Butler’s Head. My thought was that with Euro 2012 going on, in business attire, I would blend right into the crowd of after-dinner-cocktail business folks and feel less conspicuously alone. Ha. I stood out like a middle-aged American woman in an ancient London pub who ordered the steak and kidney pie because it seemed the thing to do. The bartender took pity on me. From where I was sitting, I could watch the game, as well as the perfect pints of Guinness being poured. I liked watching the Guinness. It starts off as pure foaminess, coming very slowly from the taps, and then there’s this fascinating cascade as the beer gathers at the bottom and the bubbles at the top. I digress.
I sat at the bar, with the excellent steak and kidney pie, and between pouring pints the bartender told me stories about it. He talked of the glory days when bankers were superior to bankers today. He told me about the gas lights still scattered throughout the pub. And finally, he invited me to come see the ancient wine-cellar in the 300 year old pub. “It’s brilliant!” he assured me. I picked up my bag, worked my way through the crowd and carefully “minded my head” as I entered the low-ceiling, cold, ancient crypt. It was pretty brilliant. He took pictures of me in the wine cellar and the beer cellar. (He brilliantly interposed his finger in most of them – ah well!) I thanked him, and tipped like an American. He told me we were friends forever, and gave me (ironically!) a coffee mug covered in London beer logos.
I trotted home with a happy step. The bankers had completely ignored me, but the bartender was my friend!
The next night – Thursday – my colleagues did take me out, which was lovely. But their commutes are even worse than ours, and so we were done by 7ish. It seemed too early to go back to the flat and read, or some such thing, so I decided to catch the late match (Ireland -ugh. Worst team in the tourney!) and dinner at another pub. I had so far been invisible everywhere I’d gone, so I had little concern as I sat down to watch. Then a friendly looking 60 something gentleman with a long flowing silver beard came over to talk to me. He opened his mouth, and sound came out.
I had no idea – not a one – what he was saying. He was speaking English. I focused harder. If I just paid attention, I could certainly work my way through that accent – at least catch one word in three or four? Impenetrable. Every once in a while a word would out, or a complete sentence, and then disappear back into this mellifluence. I smiled and nodded. I did gather that he loved London. He’d live here for more than 20 years. He was from Glasgow. Then the conversation was once again lost. He did not seem too perturbed by my cheerful statements I could not understand a word he was saying. I had no idea if he understood me as poorly as I understood him. Everytime his mates would go out for a smoke, they’d walk by and clap him on the shoulders. They’d grin at me – but none rescued me. Finally, I caught two words, “hotel” and “cab” and finally wondered what I was smiling and nodding to. I decided (my plate of pies finished) that it was time to leave. I bid him farewell, a touch uncomfortable. One of his mates was outside smoking. “Who,” I asked, “was that?” In perfectly intelligible English I was informed I had just dined with Alex. He was a local fixture. He roamed the streets with a shopping cart during the day. He was likely the richest man in the entire section of London. And he had indubitably only charitable notions towards me. And no one else could understand him either. Relieved, I returned to my room to prepare for the morning’s departure.
Winging my way across the Atlantic, glad to be home, glad to stop working. I met with my husband, got my sons, went for ice cream, picked up our first farm share of the season, made a batch of jam and fell to sleep.
When my phone then rang at 4 am, It was actually not so off for my body’s time. I picked it up, assuming it was someone in London who had forgotten I was no longer there. But no. It was a call to say that a young man was on his way, and could I please go stay with his sister while his parents went to meet him? I brought my blankie and my phone, never happier for an interrupted sleep than this. I just got to meet sweet William a scant hour ago – his dark hair the incredible fuzzy-softness of a newborn baby, his six-pounds-and-change a tremendously light bundle wrapped in a stripey hospital blanket.
Imagine a scene:
A woman in a London flat. The flat is near the center of the city – between Moorgate and the Barbican. The flat is a nice one – it has a private porch, two bedrooms, a vast number of switches (including some she can’t find), a very large tv with cable and a well-stocked kitchen. She arrived early in the morning. She was met by a colleague who showed her the key attributes of the apartment, took her grocery shopping for perishables, showed her where she should present herself Monday and after assuring himself she was well established – bid her have a great weekend.
Yeah, it seems pretty unreal to me too, but here I am on a very European leather settee watching Germany vs Portugal on the BBC. There are even tea lights people. Tea lights.
A few months ago, my vp announced that he wanted to strengthen the ties between the UK office and the Boston office and called for volunteers for an exchange program. I wasted little time putting my name into the ring. Then I blinked, and all of a sudden it was time for me to go. I hastily shoved some clothing into a bag, verified that my passport was up to date, worked a full day Friday and flew out. That seems like a million years ago now, but in truth I haven’t slept since then.
I figured that as long as I had a free room (corporate apartment), and the company was paying for my airfare, it made sense to go a little early and grab a weekend in London. By myself. Doing stuff I want to do. (The hard part being, of course, winnowing it down to the the handful of things I would like to do well instead of the million things I could be doing.) So today I landed in Heathrow at 6:30 am local time… 1:30 in the morning according to my body. I’d grabbed a catnap on the plane, so didn’t feel too awful. However, when I went to get some cash out, I got re-jected!!! So I used my credit card at one of those currency places to get cash instead (it took forever – the guy was a trainee and had his manager standing over his shoulder and talking him through ever button click) and proceeded into Paddington station. Fast forward through a very lost cabbie (I thought they were supposed to take a really hard test? But then again, I suppose London has changed a lot since the Blitz, which is clearly when this guy started driving.) Then there was the aforementioned being-shown-around. I had just said farewell to my guide (who has spent the previous night in our flat) and went to Starbucks to buy some caffeine to keep me going.
“Hmm.” I thought. “Where’s my Visa?” Oh dear. I had left it on the counter at the currency place. Now, I have three credit cards: a Visa I use for everything, my debit card, and an American Express I have mostly for shopping at Costco. Well, my Visa was back in Heathrow and my debit card was being blocked. And you know those adds about, “But they don’t take American Express”? They were talking about London. I got back to the flat and attempted to reach my bank, someone. It took me 20 minutes to figure out why Google talk and Skype weren’t working (see also: hadn’t slept). When I finally could call out, everything was closed. At home it was 6 am on a Saturday. (Because of course my cell phone doesn’t work at all in the UK.) I finally managed to figure out how to call the currency place and verify that they do have my credit card, and they have put it aside for me. But now I have this, uh, creative tension. In some places, I have money. If they take Amex, I’m golden. I have money on my Starbucks card, which works here. And if I actually got in any sort of bind, I could call one of my UK colleagues and they would rescue me. On Monday the bank should unfreeze my account. But for tomorrow, unless its Amex or Starbucks, I have 20 pounds to my name (and a nicely stocked kitchen). Creative tension.
So what did I do with my day in London? Well, to my everlasting delight Shakespeare’s Globe takes American Express (for ticketing only, not for the gift shop). It was 11:30 by the time I was ready to leave the apartment and there was a 2 pm matinee of King Henry V – my favorite of the histories. I walked about a mile and a half across the Millennium bridge to the theater, walked up to the box office and asked if they had any tickets left. Sadly, the only tickets they had were the best in the house! So I ended up getting a front row, top balcony seat. With an hour and a half to to spend until it was time to be seated and the Tate Museum next door, I decided to check it out. My neighbor, a graphic designer, had abjured me in the strongest language to go see it. So I did. I decided to focus on one gallery instead of walking quickly through all of them, and found myself in a surrealist exhibit of dreamscapes. I liked some, didn’t like others, thought some were fascinating and others more about the artist statement than the art. But it was fun. I rarely go to art museums, and I enjoyed the experience.
Then – bliss! There was a renaissance wind band playing in prep for the show! Haut instruments! Cornetto and sackbutt, as well as recorders and lute. Huzzah! I got one illicit picture before being notified “no photography”. Then the play. This was the opening performance, I believe. There were a few moments when that became clear – one or two lines less expertly delivered than others. But it was a find production. The limitations of the Elizabethan in daytime are interesting. Many of the tricks of modern theater were unavailable. They did use some of the tricks of ancient theater, with smoke bombs for cannons. The only other note I had was how unbelievably distracting the helicopters that hover over the Thames like locusts are. One nice thing about Ashland is the town quiets down for the theater. The same cannot be asked of London.
I took the long way back, although fatigue was catching up to me after two and a half hours of Shakespeare. (Crispin Crispian day! If only you didn’t fall in the middle of October I would celebrate it as one of my fake holidays!) I walked the Thames down to London Bridge and crossed over there, stopping at the lovely Liverpool Station for Cornish Pasties for dinner.
And now, to bring things full circle, I’m watching Portugal vs. Germany and telling you about what I’m doing! I’m pretty sure this would be a better blog post if I had slept more than 3 hours in the last 30 or so, but I figure bad is better than none at all.
My Truant Pen 