Keeper of my gate.

The other day the kids played in the yard while I walked in and out of the house with boxes.

To the car and back again. The process was smooth and I didn't mind it one bit since the weather was simply mild and sunny for this time of year.

But when Declan took to the white picket fence gate and held it open for a moment, I realized and was instantly grateful that my life was easier with him as my gate keeper.

Unfortunately, neither his attention span nor doorman etiquette lasted more than two trips through the passageway. So, before I lost him completely, I asked him if he could find something to hold the gate open for me and continued on to fetch my next box.

I walked out to the car a minute later, he was (politely) asking and directing Nonie to sit in the spot by his foot on the driveway, with her back propping the gate open. She clearly had no idea what was going on but followed his directions with wide-eyed excitement because her big brother was paying attention to her.

Then, in his sing-song voice - the voice he uses only occasionally when he talks to his baby sister as if he were her parent - he said:

There, now be a good little girl and make sure Mommy's gate doesn't close on her.

And she did.

And for the rest of my lugging of boxes I thought of only this:

Might my children be the gatekeepers of my life?

When I am with them it seems like my opportunities abound, my goals are clear and reachable, and when I need it the very most - my gate is always held open with an encouraging smile.

Thinking 'Bout Getting Older.

There are far too many thoughts whizzing through my mind to write a clear, and coherent post.
This would explain why you haven't heard from me much in the past few days/weeks. What an insanely busy 6 weeks.

I keep saying to people "life seems to be in fast-forward". My neighbor, she drives by while I scoop the mail up, my friends in town - while our grocery carts eek by each other in the pasta aisle, my not-yet-friends in the parking lot of Nonie's preschool.... they all hear my same phrase - "life seems to be in fast-forward".

And it does. Life seems to be moving in fast-forward. The bags under my eyes and my gray hairs are having trouble keeping up.

Can't believe we're halfway through October and moving full steam ahead into November.
Wait. What?!

I'm thinking about getting older. I'm thinking 'bout it a lot.

During these weeks, and days, when I keep saying to myself:

Slow Down.
Look Around.

Your Children Are SO YOUNG.
And Full of FUN. And they WANT to be with YOU.


So, in full awareness of the "getting older" mindset - the other day,

I said to the hubs - let's take the children for a bowl of soup at our favorite spot....
and then to the Res for pictures.


And then to the res for pictures. A photo shoot -

So that we won't forget this day.

This day when I'm thinking 'bout getting older.


***

So, when we got there the children laughed and ran and played about -
as they always do.




And when they got tired we (me and the hubs) taught them all about echos.

You know the echos that come from the sounds we cry out from the depths of our timid souls especially when we think about getting older???

The sounds we hear reflected back at the most unassuming and unexpected times.

-those echos. We had an impromptu field lesson about them.

First it was funny to get the children to scream as loud as they could.

Then,

we each took a turn - howling to the wild blue yonder and carefully listening to each echo as it returned from the distant valley.


That night,

I howled. And howled and howled.

My echo responded. And responded and responded.

And when the howling was done,

In my mind, in my heart, and in my soul...

I never did feel quite so young.

All that matters.

You can't quite tell in this picture - but Dec's tiny hand was cozy in mine as we walked.

Today, we ventured across the Brooklyn Bridge to Brooklyn.

Then walked it again to NYC (with yummy Pizza & Strawberry ice cream in our bellies).

And today, this jaunt across the bridge and back? This is all that mattered.

I stood on the bridge at midnight,

As the clocks were striking the hour,

And the moon rose o'er the city,

Behind the dark church-tower.

I saw her bright reflection

In the waters under me,

Like a golden goblet falling

And sinking into the sea.

And far in the hazy distance

Of that lovely night in June,

The blaze of the flaming furnace

Gleamed redder than the moon.

Among the long, black rafters

The wavering shadows lay,

And the current that came from the ocean

Seemed to lift and bear them away;

As, sweeping and eddying through them,

Rose the belated tide,

And, streaming into the moonlight,

The seaweed floated wide.

And like those waters rushing

Among the wooden piers,

A flood of thoughts came o'er me

That filled my eyes with tears.

How often, oh, how often,

In the days that had gone by,

I had stood on that bridge at midnight

And gazed on that wave and sky!

How often, oh, how often,

I had wished that the ebbing tide

Would bear me away on its bosom

O'er the ocean wild and wide!

For my heart was hot and restless,

And my life was full of care,

And the burden laid upon me

Seemed greater than I could bear.

But now it has fallen from me,

It is buried in the sea;

And only the sorrow of others

Throws its shadow over me.

Yet whenever I cross the river

On its bridge with wooden piers,

Like the odor of brine from the ocean

Comes the thought of other years.

And I think how many thousands

Of care-encumbered men,

Each bearing his burden of sorrow,

Have crossed the bridge since then.

I see the long procession

Still passing to and fro,

The young heart hot and restless,

And the old subdued and slow!

And forever and forever,

As long as the river flows,

As long as the heart has passions,

As long as life has woes;

The moon and its broken reflection

And its shadows shall appear,

As the symbol of love in heaven,

And its wavering image here.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's The Bridge

For the Birds.

Behold the birds of the air...

I have no idea how much snow we have but the cars are completely buried.

7:40am and it is still falling. Sideways.

Just watched my neighbor trudge through the process of shoveling.

But what interested me the most is that she didn't shovel her path to her car.

She shoveled her path to her bird feeder.

This was the first thing she did when she stepped outside this morning.

I also know that she has a barn full of animals waiting for her to feed them this morning just down the road - but since the plows haven't moved through this area yet - she has little hope of getting out.

Since I had just offered up food to the hungry birds sitting helplessly outside my kitchen window - I found my neighbors actions interesting.

In full disclosure, I took the lazy route and simply moved trays of salted sunflower seeds to the front porch. Yes, seeds right out of the cupboard since I've run out of our bagged birdseed. It is just far too early to start shoveling...(jeesh, I haven't even had my tea yet!).

As I moved from the window I couldn't help but think of the verse Mom painted in our vaulted kitchen wall (framing the window to the outside) in the house we lived in when we were younger. You'll surely find variations of Matthew 6:26 if you run a search for it, but this is how I remember it written:

Behold the birds of the air;

they sow not

nor do they reap,

yet your Heavenly Father feeds them.

Oh Yes He Does.

And He Feeds Me As Well.

FRONT PORCH VIEW OF MIGRATION . AWESOME

We stood on the porch in our pjs watching this crazy, early morning flight.

It took close to 6 minutes until the last bird flew over the horizon.

Then we went inside and squealed in amazement at the spectacle of it all.

It was awesome!

And this is what Mama Earth did.

Last night the sun set right on me. On us.

Down at the lake with the kiddos in tow.

I raced in from work and whisked them away to the beautiful out-of-doors that I had admired all day from my stuffy office window.

Determined to spend some "quality time" before the sunset, I threw blankets on them in the red wagon and wheeled them as fast as I could to the lake. To the LAKE! To the LAKE!

I was still dressed in my fashionable heels and crisp work clothes.

Nonie chewed on Dec's wandering fingers while I pulled.

Once our feet hit the soft sand, the kids dug and scooted and ran about, and played with sticks.
I sat quietly and observed them and their surroundings.

And this is what Mama Earth did.

A Sunset Shared...

On Sunday we scrambled.

With news that the presidential helicopter was leaving Cape Cod, we hopped on our bikes and cycled as fast as we could to the airport. Sweat dripped on our brows as we arrived in time to see the endless procession of black suburbans whiz by. Wow. Our hearts raced with excitement. We were impressed by the spectacle of it all.

We waved and wondered which vehicle you were in. And. We were certain that you saw us. How could you miss us?

Then, we re-grouped at Sharky's where all around us vacationers celebrated your arrival with the Obama-rita and the Barack-o-taco. But, we stuck with the tried and true Steak Quesedilia. Delish delish. So so nice got to type it twice.

On a whim, we ventured to Pohogonot to see Oyster Pond from afar. We waved to neighbors enjoying the sights and sounds of this very Vineyard evening. Twigs and berries were sailing their boat around the furthest bend just as we made our way across the sandplain. The sun seemed to be searing through the clouds. It took my breath away. It did.

It is there where we kicked off our flip flops, leaped beneath a setting sun, sent laughter through summer's warm breeze, goofed at the camera and wondered ...

if...

the president was less than a mile down the beach from us, doing the same thing with his family.

We hoped he was.

Sunset over Oyster Pond, Edgartown. August 23. 2009.

I Love the Place

Where the creations of the day are set out to dry in the green, green grass...
Where the sky and the sea become one...

Where sunsets captivate cousins...

a new view

I'm looking for a new view. The view across my living room right now is of a dwindling living space - turned stage area for packing up life. I think I do this too much. In the past four years I have moved six times. I am getting too old for this.

I want a view that doesn't involve looking out an iron-barred window. That window, by the way, has recently been painted shut. From the outside. It's hot in here.

I want a view that will stay the same for more than ten months. This particular view comes with a monthly paycheck. Maybe a dog.

I want a view of a place that is close to my family. I like being in the loop.

It's a good thing I held off on the moving out process until now. I wanted to start two weeks ago. I've sold my couch, 4 tables, and a bookshelf. I am sitting on the floor. I might have jumped the gun.

But I'm excited for a new view.