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Hometown USA

Posted on November 20, 2008

Sometime back in the ’50’s someone said out little city was, “Hometown USA.” We like to scoff, wordplay being a passion of ours but sometimes it really fits. I had a date with Briar on Tuesday. We went, at her request, to the coffee shop for some, “lonely time.” We had cocoa with whipped cream, which she declared was, “mmm, delicious sour cream!” We shared banana bread, “That sweet crumbly stuff with the nuts.” And I had coffee, “for before relaxing.” It was bliss. And then came the first snowfall. Cue the music. Perfection. I wish that I could have more hours spent simply enjoying the perfection that is a snowy day in a small town as seen with my first baby beside me.…

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The Night We Didn’t Camp

Posted on November 16, 2008

I have often enjoyed sleeping in a bed other than my own (now don’t go getting all gross on me) I mean the pull out sofa in the living room, on the deck out back or on the floor in front of the fireplace. As a matter of fact, when Sean and I lived in Watertown, we spent 5 nights out of seven during the winter months, sleeping on the pullout sofa by the fireplace. There is a sort of delicious, doing-something-special kind of sensation that is all too often left behind with childhood. Unfortunately at 35 it tends to result in a morning-after filled with regret (I said don’t be gross!) it is a creaky, achey, what-made-me-think-that-was-a-good-idea remorse. Briar has taken after me…

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Making Faces

Posted on November 15, 2008

First, for those of you who’ve been as annoyed as I have by the obnoxious profile photo I’ve been using, which, when viewed in context didn’t seem nearly so annoying, rest assured I’ve changed it. I commented on a lot of new blogs, I wonder if they all thought I wasn’t worth a click. What you used to see: What you now see: And what you can’t see in what you now see: I know, I cropped out the precious Fin and the kicky foot of Ave. The thing about having three kids is that there is incredible guilt in not including everyone, not keeping everything totally equal, which of course is impossible, but the person that I am has me trying. And failing.…

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Squeeze Squeeze

Posted on November 14, 2008

We were sitting together in the fading afternoon sun, the table before us festooned with bits of blue Play-Doh and imaginatively colored turkeys. The braids I’d set in her hair during the daily sprint to get out the door were unravelling, the spotted ribbons and ties tucked in my pocket after having been torn free during a living room dance session. Her bangs were tickling her eyelashes, swaying and sticking with each blink. Her cheeks, less full each day, bore little sprays of color, part marker, part concentration, as she held a pair of scissors in one hand and a sheet of construction paper in the other. I held Fin in my lap as I waited, this being our first time with a project…

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