Month: March 2022

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Spring Survival

The internet abounds in winter survival posts, with strategies from the small (enjoy a new tea!) to the large (take a vacation somewhere warm!).  I know, because I’ve read many of them.  But the thing is – for me, anyway – surviving winter isn’t really a problem.  I like winter.  I could do without the dry skin and driveway ice, but beyond that, winter and I are good.  I love a crisp, bright winter sunrise – the warmth of a pile of in-progress knitting in my lap – hiking a crunchy frozen trail – roasting a tray full of winter veg.  And now that Nugget has gotten into skiing, snowy mountain days are back on the menu and I couldn’t be happier about that.

So winter survival isn’t really an issue.  But spring survival – that’s a whole other thing.  As Kelly Gordon (of the Love Well Blog and Sorta Awesome podcast) says, “Spring is my fourth favorite season.”  I just don’t feel the raptures that Anne Shirley feels when contemplating the advent of flowering trees and meadows.  Buds and blooms look like a giant sneeze-fest to me.  No, thank you, I hate it.  Wake me up when it’s paddleboarding season.

But like it or not, we all have a few months of spring to endure before summer dawns.  So I made a list of survival strategies.

  1. Get ahead of spring allergies, and stay ahead.  A few years ago, I replaced my Claritin with Allegra and found that it was a huge improvement for me (possibly I’d just used Claritin for so many years that my body got used to it and needed the shakeup, or maybe Allegra is just a better formula for me – either way, it was an upgrade).  But I still have to be on top of allergies; I have to start the Allegra regimen before I think I need to, and I have to remember to take it every damn day until the oak trees are really and truly done pollinating.  (Oak trees are my personal hell.)  This year I’m considering doing one better and talking to my PCP about getting allergy shots.  Maybe.  Can’t hurt to ask her about it.
  2. Switch up my exercise routine.  I like running outdoors (and I can’t run indoors right now anyway – I wore out the tread on my treadmill and it tore) but on high pollen days it’s just not going to be an option for me.  So I’m planning to think ahead by compiling a queue of Barre3 online and Peloton classes I want to try on those days when the air quality is just too poor for me to go outdoors.
  3. Plan spring activities so that I have something to look forward to doing on the weekends.  Another Mount Vernon day is in order; I love to ogle the baby animals and stroll through the riotous blooming flower gardens at the height of spring.
  4. Resume Saturday morning farmers’ market visits, and page through cookbooks to find new recipes to try with all those spring veg.
  5. Play around in my garden – in inexpensive and/or impermanent ways.  I’ve mentioned on here before that as our current place is a rental, I don’t want to pour a lot of money into the garden or make permanent improvements.  But nothing is stopping me from scattering a packet of inexpensive wildflower seed around the yard, or from stocking up on nice planters that I can take with me when we buy the forever house (hopefully next year).
  6. Read springy books!  I do love reading seasonally – even in the spring – and I have a stack awaiting me for April already, including Green Shades, an anthology of garden writing collected by Elizabeth Jane Howard; The Morville Year; Illyrian Spring; Onward and Upward in the Garden; and Monty Don’s latest.  I might revisit The Enchanted April, too, and pull out some Beverly Nichols if I have time.  There’s nothing like a good book to revive the spirits.
  7. Spring clean on a theme.  My house is pretty clean already, thanks to regular deep-cleansing sessions, but the garage needs help.  Steve and I have our eye on a special project this spring: emptying the shelving that was already in place when we moved in (tossing the gummy paint cans and broken appliances) and repurposing it to store all of our outdoor gear in an organized fashion.  I’m already looking forward to not rushing around looking for life jackets on the first kayaking morning of the season.
  8. Remind myself regularly – and as frequently as necessary – that this is just a season, I will breathe through my nose again, and my beloved summer is right around the corner.

What do you do to get through sneeze season?

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It’s Monday! What Are You Reading? (March 28, 2022)

It’s baaaaaaaaaaaaack! Y’all, Little League season is here again! Did you miss all the little slugger pictures from last spring? Good news, Saturdays will be baseball days until June. (That sound was the sound of me digging through my dresser to find my “I Can’t, We Have Baseball” t-shirt.)

Yeah, so Saturday was as busy as they get. We were up and out the door at 7:30 a.m. (yawwwwwn) for Little League Opening Day. The league skipped big opening day festivities last year for obvious reasons, so this was our first experience and let me tell you: it was a circus. We found our team easily enough, thanks to the huge and impressive “Coach Pitch – Orioles” banner that the coach had prepared; said goodbye to Nugget and wandered off to find a spot along the “parade route.” The three motorcycle cops who were opening the parade steamed off promptly at 8:00, followed by the three elementary school mascots, and then – nothing for fifteen minutes; none of the teams were ready. But at least the cops made it to their doughnuts on time, right? Womp, womp. Anyway, the parade eventually straggled through, there were too many speeches, and we won “best banner” in the coach pitch division – off to a good start. As soon as we were released from Opening Day, we rushed off to Nugget’s birthday party, which I scheduled for the first day of baseball season in a fit of spectacularly poor planning. It worked out, though – our game was luckily scheduled for later in the afternoon and we only lost one party guest to sports. Nugget got a huge turnout for his party, which was at our local playground – the kids had a ball running around, and the grownups milled about drinking LaCroix and talking. Nugget’s best buddy even made the trek out from Arlington to join the contingents from the first grade class and the neighborhood; that’s friendship, indeed. Anyway – after a parade and a three-hour birthday party we were all wiped, but no rest for the wicked: we headed back to the ballpark for the first game of the season. Nugget acquitted himself admirably and Peanut appointed herself Official Babysitter and Head Cheerleader, and a good time was had by all.

As you can imagine, I was completely exhausted by the time we finally wrapped up the day. I couldn’t even face cleaning up the birthday present detritus and collapsed into bed at 8:30, and slept for TWELVE HOURS. On Sunday, I had big plans to get stuff done around the house: I have a mountain of laundry that needs folded; several science experiments growing in the fridge; and a blank weekly menu board. But I was still wiped, and ended up unable to muster the energy for anything more strenuous than taking the kids to swim lessons (Nugget leveled up again and is moving on to Glider 3!) and a stroll around the neighborhood with The Mom Hour in my earbuds in the afternoon. Well, there’s always the weekdays for getting stuff done.

Reading. It was a good reading week, if a slow one (attributable to the busiest, most jam-packed week I’ve had since starting my current job). Everything I read, when I found time to read, was delightful – and each title so different: wartime short stories from one of my favorite writers, a Mitford memoir, and a frothy Angela Thirkell novel, yes, please to all.

Watching. All Springwatch, all the time – or at least, every evening – the 2021 series, on Britbox, while we wait for 2022 to drop. Y’all. If you don’t have Britbox, I really can’t recommend it highly enough. It’s worth it if only for the wildcat kittens on Springwatch ’21. I’ll say that again, louder for the people in the back. Wildcat. Kittens.

Listening. A hodgepodge this week, as usual. Some music – belting out Pink and The New Pornographers on the way to the grocery store, like ya do. Some audiobook – I’m still working my way through Agatha Christie’s The 4.50 From Paddington and expecting to finish it up while commuting this coming week. Some podcast, namely The Mom Hour, for when I can’t face anything but Meagan and Sarah’s gentle voices.

Making. Oof. Nothing much this week – other than work product, it was one of those weeks, as busy as they get. And a couple of dinners for the family, probably, but I can’t remember them. No crafting, no photography, no interesting baking, no plans. Next week should be calmer.

Moving. For a hectic week, I did do a good job of prioritizing self-care. Three runs, including an interval run via the Peloton app, two yoga sessions, and several long walks. I hoped to get out for a long bike ride on Friday morning, but it was not to be – what with the work schedule. But it’s all right; I did what I needed to do to stay sane.

Blogging. Spring survival techniques on Wednesday (yes, spring survival; you intrigued?) and back to Arches National Park for another stop on Friday, do come around then.

Loving. At the risk of sounding my age, I have to admit that the thing that has made the most difference in my life for the past week is – my new pillow. I’d been clinging for far too long to an old, lumpy pillow and after a couple of nights of really terrible sleep, Steve ordered new pillows for both of us from Casper. I was skeptical. I’m now converted. It has made all the difference.

Asking. What are you reading this week?

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Colorado & Utah 2021: Arches National Park – Delicate Arch Trail

It doesn’t get much more iconic American West than Delicate Arch – does it? But let me start from the beginning.

We had a big Saturday planned – a road trip out to Moab, Utah, which isn’t far from Dan and Danielle’s home in western Colorado. We split up between two cars – Dan driving Steve and the kids in Danielle’s car, and Danielle and I in Dan’s truck with the dogs, Ollie and Marlin. Dan planned a few stops to show us some of the sights on the way… and we had a few (or six) unplanned stops to tend to a carsick dog. By the time we got to Moab, everyone was relieved to get out of the cars and onto the sand. First stop was sliding down a giant sand dune; the kids and dogs needed to roll around in the dirt after being cooped up in the car. A few big slides and we were on our way to the day’s main stop.

Even the views from the car were epic! We stopped by the visitors’ center to quickly grab Junior Ranger booklets for the kids, and then we were on our way again. Dan had his heart set on showing us an American treasure.

Danielle kept apologizing for the clouds. Clearly we brought the marine layer with us from the east coast.

The hike to Delicate Arch was pretty much the biggest adventure we planned for the week. At about three miles round trip, with 480 feet of climbing and some exposure, it’s within our kids’ range but getting close to their limit. (Their record as of now is four miles, but that has to be broken up with a picnic at the two mile point or they turn into hangry little monsters.) Delicate Arch was doable, but absolutely in the “adventure” category for them.

We went at their pace and took plenty of breaks to check out the views and admire how far we’d come.

I couldn’t get enough of the incredible desert landscape! There’s something about the muted colors and dramatic, windswept rock. It gets you right there, ya know?

Eventually, we hit the exposure part, and it really wasn’t that bad. We instituted a hand-holding policy for the kids – you must be touching one of your adults at all times until we release you. Nugget claimed Uncle Dan.

Around a corner and – there it is! WOW.

We decided today was not our day to clamber over the lip and scramble down to the arch itself. Happy to stay right here, drinking in this view. Maybe we’ll get up close and personal next time. We hung out scanning the horizon, snapping photos, and getting our Christmas card picture (photo credit to Dan).

Eventually, reluctantly, we tore ourselves away from the arch – it was not easy – and headed back down the trail. Dan and Danielle wanted to show us Danielle’s favorite arch and we couldn’t leave the dogs loitering for too long. As we descended the trail, the sun came out and lit the desert, bringing out the bright reds and oranges of the sand and rock.

So, so stunning!

Next week, still in Arches – we see elephants! Curious now? Stay tuned!

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Themed Reads: Great British Nature Writing

I’ve always loved nature writing. I grew up on a steady diet of Lucy Maud Montgomery, so how could I not? As an adult, I identified with The Blue Castle‘s Valancy Stirling and her anxious awaiting a new book from her favorite nature writer; I have certainly gotten a little too excited about a new book from Melissa Harrison or Stephen Moss. But one hole in my nature reading has been: I have not found many American nature writers or nature books to enjoy. Terry Tempest Williams, yes. Maybe a little Henry David Thoreau, but I have to be in the mood. Most of my nature writing in recent year has been imported from Great Britain – England, especially, but some Scotland too. The Brits do seem to have the most robust tradition, and I can’t get enough. Here are three favorites of the genre.

If you’re a bird lover, you can’t go wrong with anything by Stephen Moss. I loved Mrs Moreau’s Warbler (all about the naming of birds) and The Twelve Birds of Christmas (a pithy and original take on the “Twelve Days of Christmas” carol) but I think my favorite has been The Robin: A Biography, which I just read recently. Moss takes the reader through a year in the life of the English robin (not to be confused with our American robins, who are no relation) and drops in bits of cultural miscellany and natural science along the way. It’s a total joy. And it’s the first in a series; The Wren, The Swallow, and The Swan followed in short order. I have all three on my shelf to get around to reading soon.

Another favorite writer currently living and working today: I’ll read pretty much anything if Melissa Harrison is involved. I loved the series of four seasonal anthologies she collected and edited (Spring, Summer, Winter, and Autumn, of course) but most of the pieces in there were not hers – she wrote an introduction and contributed one piece to each volume. Although the seasonal anthologies are well worth your time (Winter was my favorite, but they’re all great) I liked The Stubborn Light of Things: A Nature Diary, even better. This volume collects several years’ worth of Harrison’s Nature Notes columns from The Times of London and follows her from life as a city-dweller to a new abode in rural Suffolk. It would be a wonderful volume to dip in and out of over the course of a year, if you can stop yourself reading it all at once (I couldn’t). Bonus: Harrison recorded a weekly podcast of the same name, memorializing her country walks during the early days of the COVID-19 pandemic. It’s a lovely and refreshing listen (and still available).

Another collection of newspaper nature columns, A Countryman’s Winter Notebook – newly published by Slightly Foxed – gathers pieces by Adrian Bell, who is if not the grandfather of English nature writing, at least the wise uncle. Bell wrote a trilogy of memoirs (all published by Slightly Foxed as well) about his life on a Suffolk farm, and it was his writing that inspired Melissa Harrison (see above) to move to Suffolk. Harrison isn’t the only Englander to have been inspired by Bell. According to Slightly Foxed, English soldiers during World War I used to carry copies of the first volume of Bell’s classic memoir trilogy (Corduroy) into the trenches with them in their pockets to remind them of what they were fighting for. (Slightly Foxed has hinted that they are considering publishing a series of four collections of Bell’s seasonal writing; I hope they do!)

It was almost impossible to choose just three examples of British nature writing. There’s just not enough space with such a wealth to choose from! (And please accept my apologies for leaving H.E. Bates and Claire Leighton off. Consider this their honorable mention.) For a smallish island (hello, Bill Bryson!) the Brits have contributed several continents’ share to the nature writing field. I haven’t scratched the surface, I know, and I couldn’t be happier to have so much more to discover.

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It’s Monday! What Are You Reading? (March 21, 2022)

See that? Spring is in the air – officially, now! (Ostara blessings to my earth goddessy types.) The equinox is past, the buds are on the trees and there are a few blossoms out already. Of course, that means something else, less welcome, is in the air too. My red car is yellow from the sheets of pollen around here. I’ve started my annual course of Allegra, because the only way to survive this season without being totally miserable is to start early and stay ahead of it.

Anyway – pollen aside, it was a lovely weekend, really lovely, from beginning to end. I started on a high note: a happy hour, over videoconference, with my dear friend (and former coworker) Vanessa. First, and most importantly, we’d missed each other terribly and it had just been too long. There was so much to catch up on: her second baby (her birth story was insane) being the main event, but she’s also interviewing for a few jobs with my current employer! Obviously, the idea of being in the same office with Vanessa again is almost too wonderful to comprehend. I’m peppering her with interview tips and trying not to let myself get too excited. But, really. We talked as hard as we could for two hours – until my sour and her hard cider were long empty – and made plans to get together in person soon.

The rest of the weekend was wonderful and restful. On Saturday, we slipped out to our favorite park for a hike, and I spotted all kinds of signs of spring along the trail. Came home to a delicious sushi dinner – yum. Sunday was just as good – a four mile run on my favorite trail in the morning, followed by swim class for the kids and then a visit from another dear friend (and former coworker) Amanda. Amanda brought her two sweet munchkins over to play with mine, and while the kiddos ran around outside the moms ate frittata and drank tea; caught up on all the stresses and joys of motherhood; and emptied the kids’ dressers of outgrown clothes (now to be loved by Amanda’s family – they’re my favorite hand-me-down victims; this is the latest in a long history of me pawning off the kids’ clothes on Amanda). It was a weekend full of fresh air, good food, and time with cherished friends; what could possibly be better?

Reading. It didn’t feel like a slow reading week, but I guess it was – two books finished, and one on the go. What have I been doing in the evenings? Now I can’t recall. Oh, well – all excellent reads, though. The Armourer’s House was delightful; Agnes Grey a long-anticipated re-read (review coming soon for The Classics Club Challenge); and I’m about halfway through English Climate: Wartime Stories and absolutely loving it.

Watching. Lots and lots of Springwatch (last year’s content, on Britbox), and Steve and I also finished up Mapp and Lucia, starring the marvelous Anna Chancellor.

Listening. A mix – some music, some podcasts, some audiobook time. All good stuff, but nothing notable to report.

Making. Well, the biggest news here is what I did not make: any progress on my Costa Rica photo book, which is unfortunate because there was a very short-lived promotion including unlimited free pages; that’s a crazy deal and I missed out. This will just be motivation to get it done so that if a similar deal comes around again – hopefully it will – I’ll be in a position to take advantage of it next time! Otherwise – hmmm. Some progress on Nugget’s scarf, but not much. No progress on my fingerless gloves. Lots of work product. A delicious tomato-basil frittata and chickpea pasta with homemade tomato sauce, which Amanda and I enjoyed for lunch on Sunday. Much folded laundry (and I’m still behind).

Moving. A good week in movement! A couple of walks, two yoga sessions, and a few runs – including a lovely and peaceful four-miler on Sunday and an intense HIIT run (via the Peloton app) earlier in the week. My fastest pace was 05:42 minutes/mile! Now, I’m sure I didn’t sustain that for more than a couple of seconds, but I didn’t even realize I could get to that pace at all. So thanks, Becs, for the push, and thanks, Garmin, for the info. I AM A BEAST.

Blogging. Themed reads on Wednesday – it was a hard one to write, because there was an absolute wealth of material and narrowing down the options to just three recommendations was not an easy task. And then back to the wild, wild west on Friday with a fun hike recap. Check in with me then!

Loving. So, this would not be a “loving” for many people, and honestly I’m a bit surprised that it was for me, but… ya girl worked in the office on Thursday! I put on my nicest jeans (my company is famously casual), drove into Arlington, parked in a parking garage, found my DESK (!!!), promptly stole someone else’s desk (!!!!!), and worked an actual office day. This is exciting stuff, people. The last time I worked a regular day – not a hearing, deposition, or special event – in the office was March 13, 2020. Two years. When I was in the thick of commuting every day I think I would have said working fully remote would be a dream, and it has been great to have the flexibility, and I don’t plan to go back to five days a week in the office – probably ever. (It goes without saying, but I’ll say anyway that I’m very aware of how lucky I am to have the flexibility to work from home.) But I was surprised by how much I missed the interaction with people (who even am I?). There was deskside chatter with a transportation lawyer who started around the same time as I did and supports some of the same business lines, and some “getting to know you” conversation with a regulatory attorney as we heated up leftovers side-by-side. It all felt novel and fun – scanning my badge to get into the suite, wandering around looking for the fridge and the ladies’ room, seeing new faces and scouting out better desk spaces to request… Yeah, if it’s not clear, I really enjoyed cleaning out my email inbox in a different location.

Asking. What are you reading this week?

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Colorado & Utah 2021: Uncle Dan’s Dinosaur Tour, Part II – The Trail Through Time

Our next stop on Uncle Dan’s Dinosaur Tour was right across the street from our off-roading adventure – convenient! Dan had us all excited about the famous Trail Through Time.

We wandered past a few excavation sites before our first stop – a dinosaur pelvis.

The signage was really helpful – showing not only the type of dinosaur from which the fossil likely came, and where it was located within the dinosaur’s body, but also exactly where to find it in today’s rock.

To be honest, the kids were a bit underwhelmed with this part. It did take some imagining to put it back in the dinosaur’s body. It was clear that this wasn’t ordinary rock, but not especially obvious what it was – unless you knew (which we did, thanks, signage!). The adults all thought it was really cool, though.

We blitzed past a few other fossils in rock before coming to a stop at the highlight of the day – part of the spine of a diplodocus! Sauropods are my jam, so I was excited about this. But we were all excited – now this was obviously dinosaur bone.

Nugget got a paleontology lesson from Aunt Danielle.

I mean, it doesn’t get much more awesome than that, does it?

Right in the rock and there for anyone to see and touch!

Such a neat experience, and surrounded by gorgeous scenery, too – can’t beat that. We could have stayed for hours, but the sun was starting to set and we had to beat the daylight back to the cars. Uncle Dan promised more dinosaur excitement later in the week, so stay tuned.

Next week: crossing off a bucket list item with a hike to an iconic American sight.

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Reading In This Season

Recently, I was listening to an episode of The Read-Aloud Revival Podcast: “Hey Mamas, Reading for Pleasure is Part of the Job!” Sarah, the host, was being gently validating and encouraging – as usual – giving permissions and tips for making reading for pleasure a part of everyday life even with very young children. She shared her own experience of having three babies one year old and under and struggling to make time for her own reading in that season, and how her personal reading life has changed and evolved over the years. And it occurred to me that, while I’ve examined my reading life in other stages of motherhood – like the bleary-eyed days of a preschooler and a kindergartener – I haven’t squinted at my book time recently.

Reading through motherhood is a series of mini-shifts. Mini-shifts in schedule, mini-shifts in expectation.

  • Both of my kids read fluently now. This seems like a big shift, but to arrive at this moment there were many small shifts and incremental progress. I still read aloud, but we have moments now of all sitting quietly with our respective books. I’ve waited for this for years, people.
  • My commute situation has changed a few times over. I used to get in an extra ninety minutes of reading each day on the Metro (my commute was 45 minutes each way and I would whip out my book as soon as I got on the train and sometimes even before). COVID work-from-home life removed the commute from the occasion but added in walks with audiobooks – a slower way for me to read, but it adds up – and now I am looking at another commute shift as I start to transition back to the office, but with a drive commute instead of Metro as I’ve moved outside the Beltway.
  • We’ve recently moved bedtime back by about an hour. It was a long-overdue shift that I’d been wanting to do for awhile, and 100% the right decision for the kids’ ages, but it does mean an hour less of reading time in the evenings.
  • Reading attention ebbs and flows with political and current events outside my cozy home bubble. Orange wannabe dictator; global pandemic – big reading slump. New floppy-haired nutjob in the governor’s mansion ruining my beautiful state – mini reading slump. I fall into a doomscrolling spiral. And then I reset, breathe, hide my phone in the kitchen and get back to my books.

So this is what reading looks like, in my current season of life with two elementary school-aged anklebiters:

  • It looks like half an hour of reading over my morning coffee, setting myself up for the day before I dive headfirst into dishing up breakfast, compiling school lunch and snacks, laying out clothes, inspecting bed-making, and digging for juice boxes in the back of the fridge.
  • It looks like Beezus and Ramona read aloud at the bus stop, at least on the mornings we remember to grab the book on our way out the door amidst the flurry of grabbing sneakers and masks and asking Alexa what the temperature is outside.
  • It looks like an audiobook (currently, The 4.50 From Paddington by Agatha Christie) several days a week, while walking around my neighborhood – sometimes as soon as the bus barrels off, sometimes mid-afternoon between conference calls – and on the way to the grocery store or library.
  • It looks like bringing my book to the swim school – and indoor soccer, in the winter – on Sunday afternoons and squeezing in as many pages as I can while Peanut and Nugget are in the pool.
  • It looks like cozy weekend afternoons on the couch, stretched out after a run and deep in my current book while the kids read or color or do whatever brings them joy. Reading in front of them has become more natural.
  • It looks like The Hobbit or Harry Potter or a picture book in Nugget’s room for half an hour until he drifts off.
  • It looks like collapsing on the couch at 9:00, after Nugget finally drops off to sleep and the rest of the house is quiet, finally opening the book for the hour I’ve promised myself.
  • It looks like a page or two from A Poem for Every Spring Day before I drop off.

There’s definitely less time for reading at the moment than there was when I was commuting on Metro every day, or when the kids were going to bed stupid early and I had long evening stretches to curl up with my book while Steve met up with his friends on whatever the video game du jour happened to be. But if I’ve figured anything out in nine years of parenting, it’s that this is also just a season, and things will change again almost before I’ve had a chance to get used to this routine.

What does your reading look like in this season of life?

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It’s Monday! What Are You Reading? (March 14, 2022)

Good morning, friends. I’m digging my parka and snowboots and Smartwool accessories out again over here – because after several downright hot days (the kids went to school in shorts and t-shirts; we hiked last weekend in shorts and t-shirts, too) we got about two inches of heavy, wet snow on Saturday morning. Around here, that’s significant. Even more significant: it’s not gone yet, although most of it is. Anyway, the snowfall meant a hasty reshuffling of weekend plans. I’d made appointments to take both kids for haircuts on Saturday morning, and in the afternoon Nugget was scheduled for a private ski lesson at an indoor ski center (I know!) – one of his birthday treats, since he turned seven (again, I know!!!!) on Friday. But the haircuts were clearly off, as they would have us driving forty minutes each way at the height of the bad weather, and the indoor ski center asked me to reschedule so they could release the instructor. So instead, Nugget spent all of Saturday playing his new Nintendo Switch and I don’t think he was mad about it. (In fact, I was the only one who went outside all day – for a long, delicious walk in the snow. If this was winter’s last hurrah of the year, I didn’t want to miss it.)

There was a lot of Switch playing on Sunday, too, but not exclusively – we had to put a stop to that. Swimming lessons broke up the day as usual, and then we bundled up and headed to our favorite, Riverbend Regional Park, for an afternoon hike. And then the birthday boy played more Nintendo. Well – he’d better not get used to it!

Reading. Pretty busy week in books! I finished up The Fairy Tale Girl on Tuesday and spent the rest of the workweek on Martha’s Vineyard, soaking up every beautifully handpainted and handlettered detail of Susan Branch’s story there. I finally ended the trilogy of her memoirs (The Fairy Tale Girl and Martha’s Vineyard: Isle of Dreams are books one and two, but I’d read the third, A Fine Romance, last year – I should re-read it, though, because it was a total delight) and moved on to the first book in Stephen Moss’s series of “biographies” focusing on British birds – The Robin: A Biography. Loved it, and flew through it (see what I did there?) and finally picked up this gorgeous new edition of Rosemary Sutcliff’s novel of Tudor London – The Armourer’s House. I’m about halfway through and really enjoying it, as I always enjoy Rosemary Sutcliff.

Watching. A little too much watching Nugget play Nintendo Switch! We’ll put the brakes on that. And some episodes of Gardener’s World, of course, and Despicable Me 3 on Sunday, to tempt Nugget away from the Switch.

Listening. I’ve been back on a podcast train. I recommended The Mom Hour to a newly pregnant mama last week, and then dove back into my stack of episodes myself.

Making. Progress on my Costa Rica photo book has stalled out, both because I have had less access to the family computer than usual, an especially busy week at work, and I missed the boat on a really substantial discount so the impetus to hurry up and get it done is no longer there. But I will get it done, soonish. I also made progress on Nugget’s scarf, and on my first pair of fingerless gloves. And a big dinner and birthday cake for the new seven-year-old!

Moving. The usual. Some running. Some Peloton classes. A few long walks, including one in the snow – which reminded me that my Sorel boots are warm but not up to three miles of tramping around the neighborhood.

Blogging. A post on reading in this season of life coming atcha on Wednesday, and back to Colorado on Friday. Check in with me then!

Loving. It turns out I am pretty good at Mario Kart. Who knew? I remember always finding Mario Kart difficult and frustrating – I was more of a Super Mario World kind of girl. But I’ve been playing Princess Peach and tearing up the track. It’s silly, but it’s fun to play a game with my little guy.

Asking. What are you reading this week?

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Colorado & Utah 2021: Off-Roading at Rabbit Valley

After our trip back in time to see dinosaur eggs and a bone imprint, the kids were clamoring for some non-educational fun. Luckily, Uncle Dan had another treat in store – off-roading! Vehicle-loving Nugget was hype for this, but we were all excited. And it was Steve’s birthday! So what better way to celebrate than by driving a RZR through the desert?

Our destination was a natural recreation area called Rabbit Valley. (Spoiler: I did not see any rabbits.) We met up with Danielle’s parents, who brought their own RZR, and got ready to hit the trail. There were six available seats and eight people, so Danielle and her mom set off on a walk in the desert while the rest of us divided up between the two vehicles – Dan, Nugget and I rode with Grampa Don (Danielle’s dad), while Steve drove Peanut in Dan and Danielle’s RZR. Here we go!

I suspect that Don could really open it up and drive wild in this thing, and that he was dialing it back for us. It still felt pretty extreme!

Yes, Nugget is wearing his Pokemon pajamas. Parenting is all about picking your battles.

When I wasn’t wondering if we were going to roll over (we didn’t) I was taking in the scenery along the trail. Otherworldly! Finally, we came to what Dan described as a “pretty overlook.”

I mean. Yes, pretty. Pretty spectacular.

Down in the gorge, the Colorado River was sparkling in the desert sun.

I could have stayed all day, drinking in these views! We did stick around for awhile, but eventually the kids got itchy to be on the move again and we were back in the RZRs. We shuffled the party around a little – Nugget went with Steve and they drove in front so they weren’t literally choking on our trail dust, and Peanut joined me, Uncle Dan, and Grampa Don. What a cool experience, and definitely something we don’t get to do every day.

Next week: our adrenaline interlude is over and we are back to dinosaur hunting.

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The Classics Club Challenge: Romola, by George Eliot

George Eliot’s Romola is a tour-de-force; basically, it’s Middlemarch, but make it Renaissance Italy. (That’s simplifying things a bit, okay, but you get the gist.) The story opens with the arrival of a stranger, Tito, in the city of Florence. Tito is a Greek scholar, kind of, who has led something of an exciting life – but you have to extrapolate that from between the lines, at least at the beginning, because he’s playing it very close to the vest. The Florentines are naturally curious about this stranger who has appeared so suddenly on a feast day, but Tito isn’t sharing his history. He quickly falls in with a barber who knows everyone and wangles himself an introduction to a blind local scholar, Bardo de Bardi, with good connections that Tito can use.

When Tito meets Bardo, he’s interested not just in his connections – Bardo also has a daughter, Romola, who is beautiful, elegant and graceful. Romola is devoted to her father; her brother has run away to join Savanarola’s Dominican brotherhood and Bardo feels betrayed by this son who chose mysticism over logic. Romola lives to ease her father’s burdens, and Bardo quickly sees in Tito someone who could replace the son that he has lost. It’s no surprise that Romola and Tito quickly marry (against a warning from Romola’s brother) – but Tito turns out to be hiding a disgraceful past, and prepared to be as treacherous as he needs to be to ensure his wealth and position and keep his secrets buried. Bardo dies, happy in his mistaken belief that his daughter is married to a gem of a person, and Tito’s first act is to sell his father-in-law’s prized library to a disbursement of buyers, destroying both Bardo’s dearest wish (that his library be kept together) and Romola’s affection for him in one fell swoop. Romola runs away, determined to seek out a famous female scholar in Rome (or Venice? I forget which) and become an independent intellectual woman – but on her flight, she is intercepted by Savanarola himself, who talks her into being a good Christian woman and devoting herself to her husband, and sends her packing back to Florence.

Romola was labouring, as a loving woman must, to subdue her nature to her husband’s. The great need of her heart compelled her to strangle, with desperate resolution, every rising impulse of suspicion, pride, and resentment; she felt equal to any self-infliction that would have saved her from ceasing to love.

To be perfectly honest, this is where George Eliot lost me. I was already struggling a bit to get through this chunkster of a novel – it’s crammed full of overwhelming amounts of detail and political information about the players in Renaissance Florentine society; just try to keep all the de Medicis an anti-de Medicis straight. But I was stoked to read the story of a woman striking out for herself in a time when that was just not done, making a home among an intellectual sisterhood, and claiming her independence. And then not only did none of that happen, but the way in which Romola was stymied just rang so false to me.

Romola had no affection, respect, or allegiance to the Dominican monks – least of all Savanarola. For the entire first third of the book, she shares her father’s disgust for the monks who, in his view, stole away his son, converted him to mysticism, and caused him to reject the intellectual life that his father stood for. Romola visits her brother on his deathbed and is enraged and deeply upset by his mystical vision that if Romola marries (anyone, but it’s Tito that Romola has in mind) a parade of horribles will result. And it is presumptuous for this brother who ran away from home and rejected his family to then presume to dictate to his sister that she can’t get married because disaster! I was right there with Romola. But then in the course of one conversation over a couple of paragraphs, Savanarola convinces her to return to her husband (after previously urging her to take her brother’s advice and not get married) and to become Savanarola’s biggest cheerleader from among the fancy class of Florence. I suppose George Eliot is making a point about the magnetic force of Savanarola’s personality, and it’s my twenty-first century reader’s lens that is getting in the way, but I just didn’t buy it. And then Romola, instead of the single independent intellectual woman I wanted to read about, becomes a downtrodden wife and over-the-top Christian missionary to the poor of Florence. No, thanks.

As you can no doubt tell, I was disappointed in Romola the character and in Romola the book. It was no Middlemarch. (Part of my problem was also that I, unaccountably, thought that Romola was about Romani people, and I spent the first five chapters wondering why were in Italy and where the caravan was. But I did eventually figure out that I’d gotten the wrong idea about the plot and lean into the actual story, only to be deeply disappointed by Romola, the side characters, and – well, everyone.) If Romola de Bardi is supposed to be a Florentine Dorothea Brooke, she has some backbone to grow.

Have you read Romola? What’s your favorite George Eliot?