Today was the first day I noticed it staying light perceptibly later; all at once spring seems visible over the edge of the horizon. This awareness of lengthening light always makes me think of Lacy. Who else is as attuned as I am to the rhythms of the world as we move from solstice to equinox, and back again?

Valentine’s Day. I normally hate this holiday with a passion, though I’m enjoying sending Tabblo Valentines … check it out. Really cool, fun, and easy.

I think most things about Valentine’s Day are trite and hackneyed and lacking in real emotion. I don’t know that I’m interested in romance, per se, though I am very moved by deep human emotion. I filled out one of those dumb questionnaires about myself today (and I say dumb in a non-judgemental way, because I LOVE those things) … and the answer to “when did you last cry” was “yesterday – I cry most days.” Carly responded and said, what are you crying about – is it x, y, or just from real emotion? And the answer is clearly Z. That’s just how I’m wired. That whole without-skin thing.

Songs that I think evoke true feelings, that I’d consider “romantic,” include:
Romeo & Juliet – Dire Straits
A Case of You – Joni Mitchell
Love Will Come to You – Indigo Girls
any Springsteen from The Ghost of Tom Joad
Melissa – Allman Brothers
Simple Man – CSN&Y
Easy Silence – Dixie Chicks
True Companion – Mark Cohn

I’ll keep thinking of more and will add.

And, now that I’m in this mood and cooking with gas, a few of my favorite words by others that evoke love, romance, emotion, feelings (this could be an epic post, so I’ll try hard to pick only a very few).

“I believe that without each other we are missing something vital to us both. I believe simply that.” – Mary Gordon, Living at Home

“Thank you, whatever comes.
One hour was sunlit and the most high gods
May not make boast of any better thing
Than to have watched that hour as it passed.” – Ezra Pound

“I believe in the soul. I believe in the dawn, the evening, the small of a woman’s back, the hanging curve ball, high fiber, good scotch … the sweet spot, soft-core pornography, opening your presents Christmas morning instead of Christmas eve, and long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days.” – Bull Durham

“He taught me to trust myself and not to settle for seeing things the same way.” – Ann Beattie, Jacklighting

“A magic person walked up to my life just now and my life shifted ninety degrees.” – Reynolds Price, Blue Calhoun

“To the one with her head out the window, drinking the rain.
To the one who sang me a lullabye over the phone.
To the one who, divining love in this rocky terrain, has made it her own.” – George Starbuck, dedication of Bone Thoughts (to Anne Sexton)

Closing up the BCG shop. I have over 10 years of personal writing, photographs, etc on this computer so I’ve been going through it all in preparation for transfer to a new home computer …

And someone suggested that it’s dangerous not to have any of my pictures backed up, so I am putting as many as possible onto Tabblo … I trust my beloved Tabblo-ers will take good care of the pictures … the process is resulting in some crazy strolls down memory lane. If you find yourself with time to kill, check out www.tabblo.com … if you’ve ever accepted pictures from me you should be able to see a whole bunch from the past now. Weddings, christenings, and a couple of ones dedicated to special folks.

Whit turns two


So, Whit is two. Seems like yesterday we were at Verrill Farm at Grace’s very elaborate second birthday party. Poor Whit had to make do with Bread & Circus cupcakes and a few dear friends in the kitchen. Company was excellent, the planning a little less detailed than Grace’s bash. It’s amazing how differently I feel about them at age two. At two Grace felt like a little person – I re-read yesterday the letter I wrote to her on her second birthday, and she was clearly such a little personality already. Whit is clearly himself, of course, but he’s just so much less fully formed. I’m sure at least half of this is my own self wanting to keep my last baby a baby, and it may also be a boy/girl thing … it’s certainly driven in large part by how much less verbal he is than she was. But I still think of him as my baby – I still call him that, I still carry him most of the time, I seem unready for him to be launched into the life of his own independent childhood! I’m not aware of this unreadiness, by the way, intellectually, but when I reflect on the way I treat him, that is the emotion that seems to be manifest. It also seems odd to think that at Grace’s birthday I was six months pregnant with Whit – it’s hard to imagine being pregnant now.
Well, I guess it’s official: no more babies in the Mead-Russell house. It’s a cliche and it’s also powerfully true: the days are long, and the years are short.

Been a slow and sick week.

3 cases of strep in our house (possibly 4 if Daddy would go to the doctor)
1 ear infection
1 newly-minted terrible two-year-old
3 straight days when childcare providers cancelled due to their illnesses
102 highest fever Whit’s had so far
10000 number of times I have read Grace’s favorite Berenstain Bears book
1 Princeton baby (Will Forkner) born healthy and happy on Whit’s birthday – hooray!
1 mother with rapidly diminishing hold on her sanity

And, now, 10 days until I get to meet Ava in New York!