Giving thanks for family.

This morning I was listening to a piece on On Point about the changing face of the American family, put out in time for our Thanksgiving celebrations. Apparently quite a lot of us don't think marriage is necessary anymore, and something like 41% of babies are born to unmarried parents. But, overwhelmingly among those surveyed, Americans value family above all else in their lives. I agree with this, which may seem ironic given how often I actually see my brother, my sister and her family, and my extended family (meaning my aunts, uncles, cousins and their kids, etc.), but it's true. I believe that it's important for family to support each other and to care for each other. And to have fun together. Which is why I try to have fun with my family as often as we can, and which is why the theme of this post is giving thanks for family.

My sister's family, my mom, Doug, and I had an opportunity for fun last weekend, when we went to Old Sturbridge Village. This may be an annual trip, which would be fine with me. Going in the cold fall seems somehow appropriate. We all bundled up and had a great time seeing the horses and visiting the buildings and seeing the crafters at work (Like the blacksmith, who had one of the more interesting demonstrations. It seemed almost otherworldly, being in his smoky, cloudy cabin, seeing him in his period dress banging out things like kitchen spits. Made me want to learn a trade and live off the land (that is, until he said that getting burned is a daily requirement of his job, and I have to wonder what kind of health insurance OSV is providing for these workers, and then I have to wonder what kind of health insurance I'd have for myself if I were a blacksmith, working off my little plot of land behind my little house, so then I go back to being thankful for having the kind of life I lead right now.)). We also had time for some ye olden times checkers. I played Frankie in a match, in which he soundly beat me, but then he and Doug went head to head and Doug, ever-competitive, beat the pants off of poor Frankie. But Frankie's such a good sport; he held no hard feelings against Doug for that one.

Let's see, what else did we do. Not a whole lot else (this is pretty much what you do at Sturbridge Village), but it was really fun to spend time together. We posed together for a lot of photos, probably because we wanted to document us being together (we had not all been together since our trip to New Hampshire this past July). Here's one of me and my Mads, my wonderful and beautiful niece who's going to be ten this winter (and note her braces!): and here's one of my sister and her family: They have such a good family. So solid. The kids are well-behaved and well-adjusted, and my sister and my brother-in-law have a great dynamic. They actually enjoy spending time together (my sister and brother-in-law, but also the whole family). Of course, this may change once the kids hit their teen years, but I doubt it will change too much. Frankie will enjoy spending time doing things with his father, Maddy will enjoy spending time with her brother and father, and my sister will enjoy spending time with Maria and all of them. If there were a family that could survive a trip around the country in an RV, in close quarters and no television to distract them, then they'd be it. I admire them for that. I applaud them for that. I hope that Doug and I can have some kind of semblance of that (whether or not it involves children, or that many children, remains to be seen) - and maybe can join them on their roadtrip!

Anyway, so I give thanks this Thanksgiving season for family and the family institution. My actions may not speak as loudly as my feelings do on this one - so take my word for it, Family - I appreciate you and miss you when I haven't seen you for a while.

Playing Catch-Up.

I'm going to try to play catch-up with this post. I'm going to try to cram in all that happened in the last couple of weeks. That's going to be hard to do, since there has been a lot going on, and one of the most important things that has been going on deserves a post of its own. So okay, I've just decided that I'll leave that bit out and save it for later, but I've still got about a million things to blog about, so let's get going.

1. Our friend from our genealogical days, Chris Child, turned thirty earlier in the month. We went to his 30th birthday party. I don't know how we did this, but we managed to only take photos of Chris's back the whole night. Like this one (he's the one in the hat): We wanted to capture on film his necklace. It was this giant "gold" cross with a lot of fake diamonds in it. If it were real it would have weighed about 10 pounds, because it was huge. But it was fake, and it was so homeboy over-the-top that it was so worthy of a photo. Next time Chris turns 30 we'll take a picture of his face (and the chain).

We did manage to have our photo taken, though. It's a good one, and because Doug and I rarely a)have someone take a photo of us and b)take a good photo, I want to share it with you. I also want to share with you a photo of the birthday card that we almost got Chris but didn't. Chris is not really a cat person, so we didn't think he'd find this card as roll-on-the-floor funny as we did (we nearly got ourselves kicked out of CVS for making a scene, I think), but wow. Look at those heads! On those tiny human bodies - in suits! Speaking that business-speak! And look at the litter box! Maybe you had to be there to get the full impact, but this one had us busting a gut.

2. La Bayadère, however, was not a roll-on-the-floor-laughing kind of event. Doug and I were given a couple of tickets from our very good and frugal friends to see the Boston Ballet's performance of La Bayadère, which was very appropriate, given that I had just come back from India. The India in the ballet is nothing like the India I saw, though. This was exotic India with women dressed like "I Dream of Genie" and some men barely dressed at all. The India of stereotypes and fantastical history books. It was a good story, of love and betrayal and all of that, but I decided in this ballet that ballets are set up all wrong. This is the second ballet I've gone to in recent memory where I've slept through a good part of the second act and have felt that the third act is gratuitous. The dancing is always very good in the third act, but it seems tacked on, and has little to do with the actual plot or action of the story. I would put the third act of ballets where the second act is, and move the second act last. That way those of us who nap during these epic events can miss little of the plot and can wake up to an act with more meaning. I wouldn't change the ambiance of the theaters, though. The Boston Opera House, where the Boston Ballet now performs, is incredibly designed.

3. We have been doing a lot of housework. We raked up all of our leaves (over several weekends) and produced a massive amount of leaf bags, yet again. Here's one of this year's batches: And then we waterproofed our back steps. We were supposed to have done this a long time ago, back when the back steps were redone in June, but we never did. The waterproofing solution was made for application in temperatures between 50 and 90 degrees F, and we applied our weatherproofer on a 51 degree day. Hmmm. Maybe that's why the steps look like they do. And maybe that's why Doug's so sad. Because that white film that you see? It hasn't really gone away yet. It fades, but then if the weather is damp or humid or rainy the steps turn bright white again. And slick. Guess that means we successfully weatherproofed them, but it also means that we now have white-washed back steps. Don't let our mason see that.

Wow. Okay. There's a lot more to write about. A lot. Like the changing of our phone/cable/internet service, our trip to Sturbridge Village, Doug's activism in the fight for men's health issues, our massive redecorating project, and, of course, the story of my employment. But all of that has to wait. I'm tired. And I am going to go cook dinner. Because it's 6pm and I'm hungry and Doug will be home soon and because I don't want to eat too late. Because I don't have to eat late tonight. Or tomorrow night. Or any night for the next week and a half. Because I'm on vacation (because of that employment thing I should tell you about). And when I'm on vacation I don't have to do anything that I don't want to do, and I don't want to blog anymore. My eyes hurt from staring at the computer screen. Man is it easy to get used to not using this thing! It's only been four days but already I feel a sense of freedom. A sense of disconnected-ness. I love it.

Good things come in big packages.

Today I came home to see these packages on my kitchen floor: Those are mighty big, I think, and have an awful lot of bubble wrap in them. What could possibly have been inside? The new scratching posts that we ordered for the cats? Why no! Something so much more fun! A new guitar! In pieces!

Doug bought someone's stripped 1965 something or other (I should know this... it's either a Strat or a Tele... or no, maybe this is that Jaguar that he's been talking about. I'm going to go with that one. The Jag.) and it came in the mail today. Doug's as happy as a clam. The guitar is not broken, so don't cry (you'll notice that Doug's smiling in that photo of him and the bottom half of the guitar, and if it were broken he would not be smiling); it was shipped without the neck attached so that it wouldn't break or be damaged in the mail. Now Doug has to put it back together, or have someone else do it, and then we can hear why this thing is so special. I can't wait, because Doug's been on the prowl for this kind of guitar for a while. There was this red one that he wanted, but he didn't like red, and even though it's this coveted type of guitar, if it's red then he's not going to use it and it's going to be a waste of money. Trust me, I know, I do that all the time with shoes and things. So now he has this stripped one, which is better than red. I bet it even sounds better than a red one. I'm hoping I will be blown away by the sounds Doug can get out of it (but what I'm really hoping is that I can tell the difference between this guitar and his many others when he plays it. That's the real test for me, and I hope I pass.), and I know Doug is hoping that he's blown away, too.

Since this post is mainly about Doug, let's share another of Doug's accomplishments: At Brimfield this past July, Doug bought a whole bunch of postcards with forest creatures on them. The idea was to frame them. Doug chose to put them into this floating frame, and we recently put it on the wall in our art room. I think it looks wonderful, don't you? Doug has a flare for design, it seems. He'd be great at decorating a log cabin.

And, since I'm at two things already I may as well go for a third to round out my "three things" principle. The third will be New Orleans. Doug and I are going back to New Orleans after Thanksgiving. Just for a few days, but still. A few days of being able to explore the city together (you'll remember that last time we went I was there for a conference and Doug flew in on a red-eye and flew out within hours, more or less) will be a treat. These will also be a treat... authentic po'boys from places like Central Grocery. My mouth is watering just thinking about it. Can't wait!

At least it's warm in here.

I'm procrastinating. I admit it. I don't really have anything to write about, but since I don't feel like actually doing all of the things that I have to do today (since the vast majority of it is work-related), I'll spend a bit of time blogging instead. Plus the time change is throwing me off. I went to the grocery store this morning and the digital clock in the car is wrong - still telling me it's one hour later than it actually is. I based my whole schedule around that time, and now that I'm home and all the clocks that are correct are telling me the correct time I'm having such a hard time adjusting. It was one time in the car and now it's another time in my house and I can't function. But what is time, anyway? Why does it matter so much to me? Why can't I adjust? Yes. Anyway.

Friday night we played trivia at the Old State House. We made some new friends, two very capable and enthusiastic trivia players, and caught up with some old friends. Doug was excited about answering the "name three actors who played James Bond" question correctly. I knew the one about Henry James. Team Huzzah came in fourth, and when there's another trivia night we plan to go and do better. Maybe we'll become competitive trivia players (we may have to actually know the answers to more than the more obvious questions, though, and that could be a problem).

Yesterday my mother visited and we did some shopping, because that's what my mother and my sister and I do best when we're together. My mother bought a futon and I bought a lamp. We both bought some shoes. But can I say that I'm tired of stuff? My mother and I were talking about how we needed none of what we purchased. None of it. Don't even know if we really even wanted it. We are just doing our American duty and shopping. And I'm a little tired of it. I should have been reading instead, and then maybe I would do better at trivia night the next time out. New Danskos aren't going to help me know who sat on the British throne when the Old State House was built.

And now today I can't focus. Can't concentrate. I'm supposed to be doing work (for work) and I will, but I haven't been able to focus yet. I even started to think about how I should be outside raking my leaves. Look at the sea of leaves in my backyard: You can't even see the grass - there are that many leaves. But then look at all the leaves that are left on just one of the many trees in our yard: How can I go out there and spend my time raking when half the tree has yet to shed? This is when I start thinking to myself that we should have bought a condo. But if we had bought a condo, how would I spend my time procrastinating? Thinking about why the condo company doesn't get someone to come and rake up all the leaves?

I really should go and do some work. It might be time now, because I'm getting a little tired of myself. I know what would have been a great way to procrastinate, though - going to Maine to wish little Ruby a happy first birthday. Ruby's one! I can't believe it. She's such a cute girl, and we don't see her nearly enough. I mean, not even remotely nearly enough. We don't see my nieces and nephew even remotely nearly enough, either. What is it with us and neglecting the people we care most about? Why is it that we do that? How come we're not in Maine celebrating Ruby's birth like we were last year at this time? Life gets in the way, but we promise not for long. Even life can't keep us away from this little bundle.