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One Two Three

One table
Two chairs
Three hours
full of conversation.

One cup
Two stirrers
Three creamers
drained of their milk

One pastry
Two bites
Three pieces
left ignored

One hope
Two people
Three chances
to start again.

One sentence
Two words
Three concerns
shared for the future.

One lie
Two truths
Three  inconveniences
litter the floor.

Three years
Two hearts
One wish
forever swept into the dustbin.

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Written for my creative writing class. Note the poem the professor wants, but its what came out.

No worries, this does not mean that there is any distress in any of my relationships.

I dont do a whole lot of Seafair stuff.  Not a lot of it interests me. With the exception of Miss Things parade appearence a few years ago, all Seafair has been is a traffic nightmare. (In years past the Greenwood parade would double my commute.) This year though with the arrival of Miss Bit, I’ve made an effort to get out to some of the kid friendly activities.The Wallingford parade that Miss Thing had done a few years ago, was just as enjoyable for the Bit.  The Greenlake Milk Carton Derby had us all wondering if we could build a boat.

This week was the Greenwood parade, which we found appealing for its proximity to home. After all, all we had to do was walk 3 blocks and there was the parade route.
And what a parade it was. Two groupings of pirates,

a couple of good bands                                           A community garden complete with flowers hopping along.

Miss Bit’s schol was also represented and she kept calling out “Greenwood it’s me! One of your students. I’m over here!”

All in all, a lot of fun. Next year maybe Miss Bit will join the “parade club” at school and be part of the parade. Either way  I get the feeling I’ll be sitting on the side curb  waving at the kids and dancing to the bands.

So I can officially say I’m back to attending church, on and off. Last week was Broadview UCC. This week was University UCC. The contrast is pretty clear between the two congregations. Going back to Broadview, i did have some of the initial “Where have you been” questions. Thing is they were cloaked in hugs and care and I knew that folks genuinely cared about me and wondered where I had been.  Sure I shrugged it off, and made a point of not hanging around for coffee hour, but the worship and the care was real.  
University again felt fairly anonymous. I came in right as service was staring and opted to sit up in the balcony. Since it was a small group, we circulated during passing of the
peace and someone asked if i was new. That was nice.  After service I didnt run out right away but  had a cup of coffee afterwards during the reception. I wandered around and looked at the different things going on, but really  I felt like a little lost puppy.  i finished my coffee and popped out over to Trabant to wait until the library opened.

I find University to be appealing because of the size of the Congregation and what a Congregation of that size means. There is a young adults group for those beyond youth group, a parents group, family events, a LGBTQ group. (Broadview does have one, but well.. I was never invited, and didnt want to push my brand of Q on them) There is an alternative style service held on the occasional Wednesday nights. There is a lot going on. I find it appealing because it reminds me of growing up in Downers Grove. I’ve said that before and don’t want to sound like a broken record but, it’s true.

Anyway, i need to figure out where i fit and where i want to be. i think its going to be a long process figuring it out. On the other hand, As i told  someone in the house hold this morning. “It’s ok if I go to the other church, after all God is in both places.”

While I love my new tupperware. Particularly the refirgerator set that I just got. But I still like bento stuff.
And  i’ve been looking for this set ever since I saw Lunch in a Box talk about it.

Why? It’s lock and lock.  They are easy to clean, they seal tight and they are functional. It’s  a coordinated set. Two food trays, one drink cup, all in an insulated back.
Why? Because I  have been looking for one and havent been able to find it.  So that makes me want it more.

Anyway I got it in dark blue instead of light blue and found it at Central Market in Shoreline. Leah only let me get one, though I’m tempted to call up there and see if they can get it in orange or burgandy.

It’s Johns ** fault really. You see he’s my neighbor. They are a pretty standard family 2 kids, 1 stationwagon and a sports car, slip and slide in the back yard etc.  He’s raising boys. Loud rambunctius, screaming so loud it seems they are killing each other , boys. As the male role model that he is John must do his duty and properly prepare his boys to be boys. He’s extremely gender biased about this. We see basketballs and nets (one for each boy) Baseball team jerseys , the whole works sport wise.

Since he’s raising boys, he also has to model the way to cook like a man. The grill comes out every other week or so. A standard kettle grill, kingsford briquettes and lighter fluid.  i’ve seen this happen twice. The first time, I sat in the kitchen watching him butcher hotdogs thinking “He’s doing it wrong” The second time, the night before last, I sat in the living room eating dinner and  could smell gas. i was sure there was a leak.  I poked my nose around the house looking for a spot where it might be stronger, going down to the basement where the heater is (We have gas heat now) Nada. Sticking my head out the door confirmed it. John was barbecuing again.

I bought my new grill in self defense. I’ve missed grilling and smoking and it was time for me to get active again. I understand the conviencence of gas grills, and enjoyed using them, lighter fluid just  ruins the atmosphere in my opinion. I couldnt let  the standard for outdoor cooking in our neighborhood be  lighter fluid and kingsford.  So a new grill was purchased, and I’ve been putting it through its paces.

I got an invitation from John last night. Our neighborhood does the  “nights out” thing, where th block closes and we mingle. the invitation says a couple of grills will be going so we should bring our main and something to share.  I wonder if I could wheel my grill out.

To make  you drool, here is a picture of the smoked turkey from last season. I think i might do another one of those this year. (Hmm wonder how that would go over for the neighborhood potluck…….)

**Not really his name

This really is a neighborhood for cats. First there is Mr Pants, whom you’ve all heard me talk about before, Then there is Sasha who came into the yard on Friday as I was barbecuing ribs, she stayed in the yard a good 3 hours hopping from person to person begging for pets, lazing in the sun, stealing  Leah’s blanket, and Miss Bit’s seat.

Tonight I also met  Gatsby  on the way out for coffee tonight, to this last one  who greeted me on the way home.

Cute huh? (He’s a polydactyl and he wanted to know why I was fussing with the camera and not petting him.)

He’s pretty but boy he doesn’t look so smart does he?

Here’s a repost of a favorite Fourth of July post. Scroll down for the details on what we did this year.

—-

Growing up, the 4th of July was a big deal to my family. We’d always be involved in a barbecue , parade watching, and some sort of fireworks the big day. Some years my brother and I were on the parade, clamoring onto the fire engine with a friend of the family. We threw candy, waved at our friends and family, and felt like stars of the show. Once the firetruck finished its run, we’d race over to where our family sat and join them for the remainder of the parade.

Pa (my grandfather) made sure to teach us kids right, we stood at attention and put a hand over our hearts as the flag passed by. We respected the veterans, ignored the politicians and danced to the marching bands. This was celebrating our country, celebrating being Americans.

After the parade, we’d head home and heat up the grill. We’d have burgers, hot dogs, potato salad , deviled eggs, baked beans , jello molds, and on and on. Any family celebration in our house meant food. The beer would come rolling out too. No fancy drinks for my folks. Dad drank Heineken(and fed it to the dog), the rest of the family drank Bud or coors , depending what else was on sale.

As it rolled to dusk we’d sit out in the back yard and wait for the fireworks. Sure we had our snakes , snappers, and smoke bombs, but we were waiting for the big fireworks. There were at least 4-6 different local fireworks shows we could see from our backyard. Then it was off to sleep, letting the excitement of the day fade away as we faced the rest of our summer vacation.

I’m a midwestern girl at heart. you all should know that already. Fireworks, parades and picnics are my celebration. The way you show affection is in the kitchen. And always respect the veterans, ignore the parading politicians and dance to the marching band.
—

This fourth was actually different then most. I did no cooking, but put together my new grill . Looking over blog entries from the past  years it seems I typically make deviled eggs, chocolate tofu pie, and some sort of barbecue. This year we went to the Edmonds Parade where Patrick trooped in his Tie Pilot outfit with the other folks from the Garrison Titan 501st. Then as a group we ajourned to Red Robin. Then it was back home and we ended the night with Willie Wonka on DVD.

(See how cool the Stormtroopers looked? Patrick is in the back, just beyond Darth Vader )

We were at the Zoo for a bit yesterday and as the girls went through the day and night house, I had a seat outsid and waited watching the crows and squirrels run around.  

A few minutes later a little boy and his mama came by. The little boy was crying hysterically,  He was crying  inconsolably about his fishy crackers. Mama sat on the bench with him and cradled him and  they talked about Verona.  
“Bad Verona you took our fishy crackers!” The mom said  with the slightest french accent. “Poor Anthony lost his snack” The boy shudder with tears. “Verona you are in time out” he cried.
They kept talking about bad Verona and the crackers and how Verona would never be given a snack if she came to their house. Even if she begged for toast or bread, Verona would go away empty handed because she had taken Anthony’s snack.
“My fishy crackers” cried Anthony
They they began calling all out the things that Verona could not eat.
“No steak for Verona” Mama called in her soft accent.
“No waffles either” Said Anthony, shaking off the tears.
“No crepes for Verona”

This went on and on as they called out bad Verona , put her in time out and told her things she could not eat.

Apparently they had parked their little wagon next to the  stroller parking by the day and night house. The mother disregarded the sign that said, don’t leave ziplocks full of snacks out in the open as the crows get them. The  sign literally showed a bag of goldfish crackers being snatched. And indeed thats what had happened. The crows “Verona” had stolen poor Anthony’s fishy crackers. And though mama had consoled him with an oatmeal cookie ice cream sandwich, he was very much missing his fishy crackers.

Bad Verona!