Wildman, Nipples and My Friend Dorian Gray

I've been a little remiss in my entries lately. The hot weather (which for a dyed-in-the-wool New Englander like me is crippling) combined with employment and the exhaustion of life in general have left me a little, em, neglectful.

Anyway, We took H to The Basin today, it's a gorgeous glacial pond up in the Chatham area, and today was an especially nice day to go... bright, sunny, not too muggy, not too hot, lower humidity... clear visibility. Stunning. H had a great time. He was at his happiest. He spent most of the time in the water, or "having adventures" of one sort of another. I really think we're raising an all natural Wildboy. He'd be naked in nothing but a loincloth running through the woods if we didn't keep demanding he do silly things like wear socks.

However, on the ride home we discovered one thing about Wildboy: he's still a four year old kid, and there's no Freak-Out in the world than a four-year-old's Freak-Out when he discovers bloodsuckers attached to his person while he's strapped into a booster seat in a moving vehicle. Our perfect afternoon was officially ruined. He says he's never ever going back to The Basin.

So much for Superhero levels of bravery.

In other news, Annette has finally finished the Vogue Knitting "Nipple Sweater" and it turned out amazing. Well, it only took her what, three months? But it's in a beautiful fingering weight yarn and knit up on mainly size two needles. I think she thought she'd never finish it, but as you can see, Success Is A Beautiful Thing! Bright smile, Annette! Wear it proudly, and I sure hope it wins first at the fair!

Also this week, I met up with my old friend Shanti in Portland. She lives in Jersey, and I hadn't actually SEEN her in eight years. We first met when we were 14 and have been fast friends since. One of those people that even if you haven't seen them in, say, eight years, it seems like you were never apart? We all have friends like that. It was great to see her. I didn't take a picture of her, because it wasn't necessary. Much to my disappointment, she looks EXACTLY the same as she did when I met her, oh, over 20 years ago. She hasn't even got any gray hair (I do) which is very unfair because her hair is every bit as long and lush and BLACK as it was at 14. She sucks. But I love her. H was very taken with her as well... they became instantaneous buddies, and on the way home he told me he liked her because she's "cute." "Really? What was it about her that was so cute?" "Her face." He's always liked older women, but he has, until now, shown a preference for blondes. I could probably just post her high school graduation picture, but I won't, because she may not appreciate that!

All for now,

Ta,

Anne

Living With SuperGuys

This is Underwater Explorer. He didn't stick around very long, I think because his clothes were too cumbersome. But he was cool for an afternoon or so.

The things you learn when you live with a super hero... first is that there is a super hero in each of us. H has the super strength of his pure will. There is no bending it. Bill has the super power of determination. He cleaned out our hideous garage this weekend, in 90+degree heat, and actually finished the job, rather than doing what I'd do, namely say to hell with it after half an hour, and go inside into the air conditioning to watch Dr. Phil with a large bowl of ice cream.

According to H, I have super snuggly powers. I could have guessed this one, because there always seems to be someone in this house who wants to snuggle me. In the mornings it can get pretty frustrating (especially in this heat) because when H comes into our room and climbs (read "jumps") into bed with us, I end up with him, Bill and the cat all wanting to snuggle at the same time. Thank God we don't have a dog.

So, the other day, I dropped the Dark Avenger off at school, hot day, shorts, sandals, lots of exposed limbs on him, and realized that there was still a lot of duct tape adhesive on his ankles and wrists.

As I often have to do as a preemptive measure, I said to his teachers... "oh, um, let me explain the duct tape...before you call DCYS..."

His teachers, knowing H as they do, said "super hero thing?"

"Yeah. He was a Cyberman."

"So you weren't duct taping him to the wall?"

"Not this week. We discovered not long after that aluminum foil works much better if you want cybernetic parts."

According to H, removing duct tape from your extremities hurts "much much more" than removing the Power Rangers bandaid you put over the picked mosquito bite scab.

Sometimes I really wonder how Clark Kent's mom did it. I would have been worried sick every time he took off to fly to Metropolis.

Later,

Anne

So....

Dad passed away in the early hours of June 29. He went as he lived, peacefully, with great dignity. The past week has been consumed by details, planning, and tears. But we're all hanging in there, and thankfully, my father is now out of pain. Still can't talk about it, I'm going to miss him so much...

I've torn back the steeked vest three times. I think it's on the right track now. Good old vest. It's done it's job, and kept me preoccupied. I'll probably have a mental breakdown the minute I finish it--I'm beginning to believe it's all that's holding me together right now. But... if I keep tearing it back, I could theoretically hold back the flood of tears and anguish it's keeping, so maybe it's just going to be one of those been-knitting-it-20-years type projects. It's awfully nice, though, we'll see.

I might be fine.

Anne