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Jul 23

What’s that strange noise?

I woke up super early this morning, because there was this odd sound… took me a few minutes to orient myself, and realize that it was actually RAINING.  It’s been a hot, hot summer so far, with a ton of humidity and very little rain.  It’s drizzling now, and I’m pleased on behalf of my poor tomato and pepper plants.  For the record, laissez faire gardening isn’t always the best choice – I realized yesterday afternoon that they were choking in weeds.  So I pulled out the tiny baby oak trees that had sprouted (there were several) and moved the containers around to give them a new perspective.

We’ve had a quiet summer so far.  Lots of swimming at various pools around Worcester, lots of little day trips around.  We had a birthday party for Abi and Tali, Julie’s best friends, on Saturday, and then a slumber party that night with Jordyn and Sarah.  Sunday, we went down to Look Park in Northampton for Nic’s 30th birthday party.

Sam’s not great at a party – at least not at first.  If it’s an all day party, he’s loving it, because once he adjusts and gets comfortable there, he’s totally fine.  He’s a social kid and loves being around people, once he gets over the crippling anxiety at first.  But in the beginning, he attaches himself to me like a suction cup and is really pretty miserable.  Julie mimics him – so the party wasn’t actually all that much for me.  Jessie was fine, she had Amber, and a zillion other little kids running around, so she was bopping all over the place.  But Sam and Julie stuck really closely to me.  Fortunately, Becky was there with Abby – who’s just as likely to stick to her like glue as well.

Becky and I spent most of the party over at the playground with our three kids, none of whom wanted to actually socialize with anyone else at the party.

My aunt Anne brought an album full of old pics to the party.  And I started glancing thru them, and had to stop.  My grandfather has been gone for three years now, and it still feels far too soon to be able look back at pictures of him and smile at the memories.  It’s too painful.  On the way home, we drove up to Quabbin Reservoir.  My grandfather loved it up there, any time we were out in the area (and really, you’re never in the area – we had to make a special trip because it’s in the middle of nowhere), that’s where we’d go.  I drove up there with the kids and Marc – the first time I’d gone as an adult, and it’s really, really beautiful.  I felt like it was a fitting way to remember him on that day.  It didn’t make me miss him any less, but I did feel like my kids got to enjoy a little bit of what he brought to my life.


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