Pine Trees and Coco Beans

It's tradition. Every year, the weekend after Thanksgiving, we go hunt for our White Pine.

It has to be a White Pine.

For some reason, it never goes smoothly though. Grace is five this year. This is the first year that she hasn't had some sort of fit during our Christmas tree expedition. Clare decided to pick up the reins though. So we tromped through the forest wooded lot, back to where our trees were hidden, to find a perfect one.

All a while Clare screamed while mist from her mouth from the frigid air, and snot ran down her face. We persevered though, and found the tree.

After the half mile hike back into civilization we wiped noses, dried tears and bought hot chocolates. And everyone was happy again, because chocolate makes everything better.

The Start of Summer

Some people celebrate Memorial Day as the start of summer.

We dace to a slightly different beat, patterned after arm splashes, spinning wheels and pounding feet. Our summer season starts with Matt’s first triathlon. This was Pocomoke weekend.

It was Matt’s 5th year running the race, and while he claims that the field was too slim, his endurance and ambition paid off. He placed 16th overall and 2nd in his age group, resulting in his first real metal.

While I was proud of him, my joy came from watching my girls soak up the sun and sand on the Ocean City beaches.

And our mass consumption of taffy and doughnuts of course.

Pilgrims

The tradition stands. Although we did push it back a little this year. Instead of the day after Thanksgiving tree pilgrimage, we did the day after the day after tree pilgrimage.

Here is our story:

Girl finds tree and directs its destruction:



Girl has second thoughts on tree and thinks on it for a minute:



Girl watches in glee as the sentence placed upon the tree and it is removed from the earth for her amusement and appreciation:

Pumpkin Pickin'

Saturday started off today with a sort-of plan.

We would stop by my OB's office to grab my N1H1 shot at their free flu clinic and then head to the pumpkin patch if it wasn't raining yet.

When the elevator doors opened on the 2nd floor of my OB's building, I never got off the elevator. I couldn't. There were close to 200 sweaty, pissed off, pregnant ladies crowding the halls to the point of chaos. Me and crowds don't mix like that. I will take my chances and use more hand sanitizer.

So off to the pumpkin patch we went. (Pumpkin picking and fresh Christmas tree chopping are two traditions that are firmly ensconced in me, and therefore are demanded to be passed onto to Gracie.)

Gracie picked her own pumpkin.

Then she picked a second one. Whatever, how much can two small pumpkins cost, right?


She frolicked through the fields.

And helped Matt do the heavy lifting.

And just as we finished, the rains started to sprinkle down.

This Friday will be her first foray into actually scooping her own pumpkin. We will see how excited is is about this next year....

Sand & Sun

We're back from a weekend at the beach.

It was lovely. Normally I mean this sarcastically, but aside from a few ugly moments, it was perfect.

It took a few minutes, but Grace quickly warmed up to the feel of sand under her toes

and the rush of the cold ocean on her legs.

Then came the real fun with periodic breaks that included frantic dashes back into the ocean.

This 3rd annual family pilgrimage to the shore, did start around an event though.

This year was Matt's the 2nd anniversary of his first triathlon.

730 days, thousands of miles, 8 inches off the waist and he is a full blown triathlete.

Oh, and let's not forget to mention the fact the he was 48 minutes faster this year than in 2007.

He chose to follow this work out with a little 56 mile bike ride on Sunday

in preparation for the next big race.

While Matt burned thousands of calories, Gracie and I went on our own little walk.

Through the Prime Outlet Mall.

Yeah, we had a good time.

Going on Safari

Today, I christen thee Spring. I wish I had a bottle of champagne to smash, or drink – whatever, to fully embrace today.

After a few weeks of teasing temperatures, I think that we can fully declare springtime in our nation’s capitol. It’s going to be 70+ degrees today, with the same promising warmth and sunshine tomorrow. In lieu of booze, we will be celebrating by taking Grace to the zoo tomorrow.

Some of my best childhood memories are from spending days, which probably added up to months over 15-ish years of childhood, strolling around Brookfield Zoo. It is funny, how even now, I know the layout of that zoo like tweens know the layout of malls. I have stories about statues and exhibits; I have memories of benches and stalls; I have smells forever engrained on my psyche; I have photos of hugs and laughter.

As a parent, I can’t wait to make our first trip to our new zoo, The National Zoo, and relive those memories through Gracie’s eyes.

This will be her first time to hear actual animals make noises instead of me and Matt. Sure she know the call and response to cow, horse, monkey, snake, lion, donkey, duck and more, but I want to see the excitement on her face when she gets to see a real live monkey hanging from a tree.

So stay tuned. We are charging the camera batteries tonight and there will be a full pictorial issue of our adventure coming shortly.

Sea of Yellow

Everyday I drive past a little section of town that is really only used during the summer months for festivals and the Apple Butter markets.

Desolate right now without the tents and balloons, the town plans for decoration via spring flowers. Along the road there are fantastic patches of daffodils which have come up in full force in this wonderfully mild Mid-Atlantic spring.

This past Sunday we went down to that patch and took Grace's 18 month / Easter photos to send out to family.

It was a family event.

- I crouched with my back against the rail snapping photos and cursing the delay in my camera click.
- Matt did his best to wrangle Grace and return her to the flower patch every few minutes in her attempts to run out of my specified photo locations.
- Grace ran and looped her way through waist high patches of bright yellow flowers, pausing occasionally to explore, caress and then destroy.

A great time was had by all.

O Christmas Tree

This season really is steeped in tradition for me. Neurotic traditions at times, but tradition.

For example, that I HAVE TO go cut down a REAL WHITE PINE tree the DAY AFTER THANKSGIVING. I have to. I think my head might explode if we don't.

So after pretending to work for 4 hours in an office with all of 5 out of 60 employees in attendance we went to get our tree. I will let the pictures tell the story....

Matt being manly with his dull saw and tree transporter.


......................Doesn't everyone leave their baby by the good trees in order to mark which one you wanted?........................

........................Helping Daddy cut the tree down!........................

...........................................Timber!...........................................

...........................The final result..................................

What these photos don't show is that I think we may have selected a tree that was in the front yard of the tree farm's owner's house. But hey, there was no sign saying they were off limits.

It also does not illustrate was the amount of time it took me to decide on this tree and the amount of times I made Matt walk up and down a rather steep hill to look at ones that were 5 feet taller than our ceiling.

Oh well. Come my little Evergreen friend and scent my home with your branches!