my mainestay

Homesick!

so my mr. laptop doesn't usually work, but for some reason the salty Maine air seems to have given him another chance at life. It's been a good couple of months since I perused the stuff on here, all the time I've been back from Provo, in fact, so I was much and pleasantly surprised to find a little cash pool of photos from the bygone days. and man, it makes me miss you all.
because besides the three kitter-tastics, I am all alone in the world. or at least in the state.
Hope you enjoy this (short) homage to the good old days in P-town. and for those of you who escaped under the radar, know that I miss you too, wherever you are and wherever I am not.

okay. I'm taking care of the Kittergirls in Maine for a month in this little town on the coast called Castine. It is beautiful. The quintessential new england experience. The quintessential Maine experience: lobsters, woody areas, cold ocean, LL bean.
Cell phone reception here is basically nonexistent.
Sunday afternoon-Wednesday night I am alone with the girls (ages 8,6,4) while their parents work/sleep down in Boston. Then the rest of the week I'm kind of on-call, mostly able to do my own thing.
It's Wednesday night, so I'm just coming out of one of these shifts now and I have to say, as I've said before, I don't really get how mom's do it. I'm pretty spent. sibling arguments (does it matter who got to open the garage door?!!), whining, not eating my scrambled eggs because I forgot to leave out the pepper.
my only sanity right now is Leslie coming up to spend weekends with me. Not a bad outlet to have, that's for sure, except that monstrous bus rides and never ending goodbyes on the tip of every hello carries an insanity all its own.
anyway, that's my summer. just doing it like a rockstar. okay. peace out.

Willa

sometimes I think Willa is crazy
then I remember that she's 4
then I think maybe I'm crazy, for understanding her so much of the time

naming your business in Maine

"Mainely Pottery"

"The Maine Course"

"Game Mainea"

some stuff I've been up to

well, hey. It's been a long while since I've written on the old blog. It's not that boston hasn't been plenty exciting and news worthy, just the opposite, I think. I've been just kind of doing it so much that I haven't had time for reviewing it. I could surely sum the last month and a little up by saying: I am happy and home here in my lovely Roxbury with Leslie.
This Friday I will be heading out for a short detour to Maine (to nanny for a month) and then we are going on a couple backpacking trips in CA. September I will be done with long crazy trips, cute but messy subletters, and all that jazz. Then I will be a home body once more.
Last Friday (the 4th) a squirrel broke into our house and ate some cookies and left paw prints on the counter. I thought it was funny.
Anyway, here are a few photos (of other stuff, not the culprit...sorry).
love you. EEB.

Oh ho ho...my arrival at Logan airport (with my guitar case so stuffed full of heavy stuff I could barely carry it)
Having a girlie night with Leslie and our summer subletter, Christy
(the mitts were for a "special" hand treatment, wherein you dip your hand into a vat of hot wax until you can't stand the pain anymore AKA can feel your heart beating in your hand)


Well, you know how it is... just a little foux de fa fa with the llama and a redbean/icecream sandwich fish
Hiking Mt Watchusett with some buds and Les on top of the mountain posing like the superhero she is


The source of my power
(don't worry mom, not real. not my wrist.)

Pics from Leslie's birthday
(a close look should reveal that our home now includes a cotton candy maker and lots of dehydrated camping corn)

love eebs
(with some help from the Kittergirls)

The Soul selects her own Society--
Then--shuts the Door--
To her divine Majority--Present no more--

Unmoved--she notes the Chariots--pausing--
At her low Gate--
Unmoved--an Emperor be kneeling
Upon her Mat--

I've known her--from an ample nation--
Choose One--
Then--close the Valves of her attention--
Like Stone.

Hello Boston

good night ladies
good night ladies
good night ladies

I'm going to leave you now

and again

somehow Jeff and I have become the family kiddie birthday entertainment. but what are you going to do? we're just so cute.

Belly up, belly up to the bar boys

Andrew says every musical has a brothel scene and it makes him really mad. No matter what the musical is about, when act two starts, the curtains open and BOOM: we're in can can skirts, singing something uncomfortably ridden with innuendo

This is not a brothel scene. this is my last two weeks in Provo. It's a weird transition, to start missing what I have. anticipating what I've been missing. I don't think my brain really knows what to do with it. my heart always seems to know what to do. but may or may not share that information with the rest of me.


I'm grateful for brothel scenes. Or I guess I mean, I like Debbie Reynolds' raspy voice.

Not to toot my own horn...but

I'm looking pretty fierce today

Happy Mom's Day, mom

owies

don't know what's been up lately, but I keep getting hurt.
my poor left hand alone has suffered a whole range of injuries in the last few weeks:
kitchen knife to the thumb
key slash to the palm (mandy trying to defend herself)
some more slices to the thumb thanks to my cracked flat iron
series of slices to the pointer finger from raw ends of my guitar strings

a few nights ago I took a hard knee to the quads (basketball) that left me limping.
last night andrew and I were trying to reenact the break dancing scene from the end of Ocean's 13 and I landed my hip full force on a bar in our couch I didn't know was there. it knocked the wind out of me and today I have this mini-me hip on my hip.

I guess it's a little kid urge in me to display my wounds to everyone and ask for sympathy.
Today teaching kindergarten during our 5 minute "talking time" I asked the kids to tell me about their worst owies. It was great. everyone kid had a story.

My hands are shakin
From carryin this torch
From carryin this torch for you

My lips are bleeding
From kissin you goodbye
From kissin you goodbye every night

My sheets are tearin
From sleepin in too long
From sleepin in too long with you

My hands are shakin
From carryin this torch
From carryin this torch for you

My head is where
It's always been
If only I knew where

My feet can't stand
their ground no more
It seems that I don't care

My hands are shakin
From carryin this torch
From carryin this torch for you

My lips are bleedin
From kissin you goodbye
From kissin you goodbye every night

My heart is poundin
yes yes yes
My mind just second guess
My love is so
articulate
But I am such a mess

My hands are shakin
From carryin this torch
From carryin this torch for you

My lips are bleedin
From kissin you good night
Oh kissin you goodbye
It's all that I do

My sheets are tearin
From sleepin in too long
From sleepin in too long with you

My hands are shakin
From carryin this torch
From carryin this torch for you

(Sondre Lerche)

ERIN

clumsy, curious
Relative of sturdy pioneer women, stalwart Florences and stormy Becks
Lover of kiddie space pajamas, white, bowie
Who feels it all (I feel it all)
Who gives strange mementos; unsolicited advice; love tokens: rocks & leaves
Who fears jr high students, eternity, 4 am
Who longs to see pyramids, squids, temples, new lands, strange fish, you by my side
Resident of everywhere. nowhere. not sure

BECK

The Shapes of Leaves
by Arthur Sze
Ginkgo, cottonwood, pin oak, sweet gum, tulip tree: our emotions resemble leaves and alive to their shapes we are nourished. Have you felt the expanse and contours of grief along the edges of a big Norway maple? Have you winced at the orange flare searing the curves of a curling dogwood? I have seen from the air logged islands, each with a network of branching gravel roads, and felt a moment of pure anger, aspen gold. I have seen sandhill cranes moving in an open field, a single white whooping crane in the flock. And I have traveled along the contours of leaves that have no name. Here where the air is wet and the light is cool, I feel what others are thinking and do not speak, I know pleasure in the veins of a sugar maple, I am living at the edge of a new leaf.

AWOL

man I'm sorry. I've been a little bit distracted.