July 2011

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Some day, I feel that this summer will be remembered as part of a sort of Belle Epoque. It’s hard for me to say exactly why I feel this way. So just pictures for now:

A long overdue visit from Trace-Face.

And Tracy's girls. The Mighty A-to-Z.

Little J, getting lost in the lavender at Jason and Marco's new home.

Swoon. This will be one of the, "My dad was so cool" photos that J shows his girlfriends.


And one of me because I love the light, which seems to grace this moment and so many others these past few weeks.


Oh, and this one. My view from the hammock. Can you spot the monkey?



Fourth of July weekend is easily our family’s busiest weekend of the year. The Company’s family picnic, the Sugartown Parade, the County Fair, and all of the BBQ-ing and swimming make for a whirlwind of fun. And the rockets’ red glare. And soggy towels strewn everywhere.

This year, the revelry started a day early, when my friend Jason and I took Little J and three of his buddies to visit Daddy’s work on Friday.


Saturday was all about the generous annual offering we always take advantage of, The Company’s annual Fourth of July picnic. It was, as Tanis beautifully put it, “hot as the devil’s armpit.” But somehow, we kept cool. We rode in a horse-drawn buggy and indulged in the requisite lemonade and gelato: both yummy and grand.


Everyone (especially Debbie and my mom) had been reminding me to take it easy when I could. We’ve figured out that too much gypsy-ing around (as Deb puts is) weakens my white cell count. I know, Sandra. You *have* been telling me to put my feet up since Spring ’09.

But who could rest with this one egging her on:

20110705-043046.jpgNote that Little J agreed to wear this handsome-guy shirt to church in exchange for a few extra minutes on Angry Birds.

Sunday evening, we braved the crowds at the County Fair (see above comment re: devil’s arm pit) to see the fireworks. The show was worth every mouthful of dust.

20110705-064557.jpg “When exactly does the show start, Mom?” That is cotton candy hanging off his lip.

On the actual 4th, we rode bikes to the Sugartown parade. Deb said I looked like Angela Lansbury in my skirt, on my big yellow cruiser, which Heather has dubbed, “Bumble Bee.”

After the parade, we went to Lil’ Salty’s. A huge waterside, a small army of babies and kids, and ample opportunity to sneak treats from the dessert table–thanks for the Linn’s olalliberie pie, Mom–made for a day too big for the word, excitement. And yet…this ALSO happened:


Lil’ J’s first loose tooth had been wiggling for about a month. Toward the end of the party, he just pulled it out. Just like that.

But here’s the kicker: when I followed him into the house to make sure he was ok, I saw that he was just fine.

In fact, he was surrounded by three doting eight-year-old girls. One put the tooth in a zip-lock; one gave him a piece of ice to suck on; and the other inspected the bloody gum-crater and assured him the Tooth Fairy would be generous.

Clearly Little J was fine and dandy without me. I was happysadbewildered by this. So I grabbed a mini cupcake and made my way back to the adults’ area, quietly ruminating over all the reasons it would not be wise to tear up at that moment.

This morning, life was back to normal: summer camp, chemo, and work. All three of us went our separate ways.

But before we did, I took this picture of Little J’s butterflies, who overnight, shed their cocoons and spread their wings.



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