"of magical things..."

Like star dust glistening on fairies' wings
Little girls dreams are of magical things.
-- Sherry Larson

Get Your Green On

No, it's not St. Patrick's Day...but we could sure use some of Erie's green around the schoolyard! Locals, anyone want to join me at the HP Library on October 14th? The daily view of our schoolyard from my office sure does inspire me to help our school get our green on!


CREATING & SUSTAINING GREEN SCHOOLYARDSJoin Sharon Danks and Rachel Pringle, the authors of two new books - Asphalt to Ecosystems: Design Ideas for Schoolyard Transformation and How to Grow a School Garden: A Complete Guide for Parents and Teachers - as they discuss how to conceive, design and sustain green schoolyards and school gardens. Books will be for sale and a book signing will follow. Bring a brown bag lunch. Beverages and dessert provided by Moraine Township.Thursday, October 14, 12 p.m.-1:30 p.m. RSVP (847) 432-3240.Presented with Moraine Township, School Districts 112 and 113, and Climate Cycle.

P.S. No, we are not having an early winter (knock on wood, knock on wood)...that snow is from last March.

J on J

Twilight at the "Fall Frolic" next door.

Silly bands, pony tails, and bare feet--that's what little girls are made of...

The Fitting

The Quiet(er) House

Everyone tells you how fast it will all go--that they grow up before you know it. But it doesn't mean anything until they wave, rounding the corner into the old brick school house--and you return to a much quieter house.

Goodbye Summer

Goodbye Summer,

You were as long as the wait in the kickball line,

as short as the ice cream's melt-time,

as sweet as the watermelon on the front porch,

as lazy as the breezes off Lake Michigan,

as feisty as the mosquitoes at dusk,

as kind as the luck of the game,

and as elusive as a photograph that tries to hold these beings still and young and ours, if only for a frame.

A powerhouse fly ball soared into right field toward the end of the last game of the season. I was one of the many exclaiming "WOW" as the opponent's ball soared up, up, and up. It was hit by a kid I remembered from an earlier game--he's three times as big as any of the other kids--always has looked like he's on the wrong team level. But a surprise to all the "Wow-ing" spectators: The sweet sound of the ball's smack into a mitt left our crowd cheering instead...it was caught by a Met!!!

And what to my surprise, when I peered around the beam blocking my view, when I looked out yonder to right field and saw the ball in Liam's mitt. And a huge grin across his face.

It was a familiar scene to sports fans at that point: team members rushing to their teammate, surrounding him in hugs and high-fives for a job well done--the catch meant a third out, which sent them running into the bleachers where the celebration continued.

A familiar scene indeed, all except that it was someone I knew all too well this time bearing the signature lucky mitt. The same little fellow who has been relentless all summer with "Mom, will you play catch with me?", "Dad, can we go to the field?", and the ritual Saturday morning question upon first waking: "How many minutes to my game?" Answered with, "5 hours, honey."

I learned later from the coaches that Liam had to really reach for it. They called it, "The play of the season." I had tears in my eyes watching him being the center of the team's affections on the bench. My friends all had goose bumps.

It could have been luck. It could have been practice. It could have been simply being the right person in the right place. But in that moment, on this day, it didn't matter: it was our guy's dream come true. And he walked away with the "game ball" still clenched in his mitt.

On Father's Day...

To my awesome Dad, on Father's Day~

There are a many things I'm grateful for, but a few thoughts come to mind today.

Thank you for...

1. Flying out immediately once you heard your first grandchild was born, despite all my protests not to have ANY visitors during the days immediately after his birth. I'll say it again, You were right.

1a. Following all my bizarre NewMom rules on that visit like "No talking in the car on the way home from the hospital." Dad, I said no talking. Shhhhh...you're going to wake him up.

2. Saving all my 'letters home' from the Air Force Academy. What I once thought was a waste of drawer space, I'm now excited to read some day...although probably not before my children are grown and my house is clean.

3. Answering the phone at 6am every morning I rang in those dark days that followed September 11th, 2001...for a few weeks that was the brightest part of my day.

5. Thinking I'm the best photographer in the world, and making me feel like it's as important ("or more") than being a pilot.

6. And most of all, dear Dad, thanks for teaching me how to brew the perfect cup of English tea. I would truly be lost in life without the lesson that all things get better over a cup of tea...as long as it is strong and brewed with love.

Yellow Belt Brothers

When I lost my 4 Gigs of photos over 2 months ago, there was one shot I pined for.

Thanks to PhotoRecovery, I don't have to pine any longer...

"For every beauty..."

For every beauty there is an eye somewhere to see it.

For every truth there is an ear somewhere to hear it.

For every love there is a heart somewhere to receive it.

-Ivan Panin

The Barbershop: Just Do it

The last time we took our boys to get their hair cuts at the "kid cutter" place it dawned on me...this was not a place where children's hair was cut. This was a toy store, a DVD preview store, and, oh by the way, they happen to have a few people equipped with scissors. Those wearing aprons would cut your kids hair in 30 seconds after enticing them with some random movie--one that you'd probably rather they not watch in the first place.

And let's be clear...no parent, not even on their best parenting-game-day, would be seen walking out of those specialty kid-cutters without a plastic toy that would be lucky to stay intact long enough to make the drive home without breaking.

So on our recent vacation, we were more than pleased to take our boys to a real Barbershop. You might remember those types of establishments...they are staffed with pleasant gentlemen who will treat your lad like a prince. They will not entice them into the seat with multi-media props. They will, however, talk with them. They'll engaged them in conversation and in the process, give them a marvelous hair-cut.

This gave me pause for thought on how much I really do prefer the Barbershop experience.

Reason #1.

Instead of looking at a DVD the whole time, they actually admire their "before" locks because they are looking into a mirror instead of a t.v. screen.

After...

What makes a hair cut complete? The lollipop, of course. But that's not all at a Barbershop...

Reason #2. At a Barbershop, the finishing touch is the soft brush of the talcum powder...instead of the requisite toy purchase.

Reason #3. Who doesn't like to get their hair cut from cool guys from New Jersey?

When all is said and done--wet and combed, cut and brushed--I still find myself admiring their locks scattered on the ground beneath them. At ages 7 and 4, I no longer save them in tiny ziploc bags like those first precious curls, but I do find that I still have to take a quick shot. Our Barbers understood. They are parents, too.

The rite of passage of a grown-up hair cut and the ritual of becoming little men...well, in a Barbershop you actually have the quiet to appreciate these moments--instead of battling over whether to buy the plastic tadpole or the styrofoam sword as you are trying to check-out.

Two haircuts, 52 photos, and zero meltdowns. Sounds like a new tradition in the making.

Give a Girl the Right Shoes...

"Give a girl the right shoes, and she can conquer the world." - Marilyn Monroe

I grew up barefoot living on a sail boat, but I always remember the pair of black patent leather 'dress shoes' that my mom gave me. I didn't conquer the world, but I sure learned to dance.