practicing

interlude

he’s back
and once again
the house is filled with music!
I’ve missed this

week-ending

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and everyone is returning home
looking forward to a week of family
there will be suitcases to unpack
laundry to be done
and many dirty dishes left in the sink
but the house will feel like a home
at least for a short time

on a hot summer day

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not only hot, but the air was filled with humidity
super hair frizz weather
so what did I do?
I baked pies

Yup, that’s right

I cranked up the air conditioning and spent the afternoon in the kitchen

two pies, a peach and an apple

my oldest son, Eric is making his way east tomorrow on a business trip

and will be spending a week or so here at home

and since we missed celebrating his birthday with him this month

I thought I should make him something special for dessert

he’s not a birthday cake lover

his favorite has always been apple pie

So happy 25th birthday Eric!

and

happy 100th birthday Julia Child!

(even though apple pie is obviously not french)

Bon Appetit!

 

 

getting to be that time

there are signs

crosswalks have been re-painted

bus routes published

shopping has commenced

I recently viewed a lovely photo

of pancakes and waffles

prepared by a mom

a favorite breakfast for her daughter

before leaving for college

and I just received an email today

from a friend

anxious about sending her son off to kindergarten

she worries

will he get on the bus?

will he adjust to a full day of school?

 

no matter what age

or what grade

going off to school marks the passage of time

it’s always bitter sweet

 

my son’s summer job on the Cape comes to an end on Saturday

and then he’ll be home

I plan to savor every last day

until he takes off once again

in just a few short weeks

to begin his junior year of college

 

There are two lasting bequest we can give our children: One is roots, the other is wings. ~Hodding Carter

roots

sign of our times

condemmed

on a lovely tree lined street
surrounded by stately homes
a family once called this home
the kids that grew up here
went to school every morning
played Monopoly on the farmer’s porch in the summer
mom tucked them in bed every night
there were celebrations here
birthdays, anniversaries
a Christmas tree stood in the livingroom
and it’s lights shown bright through the front window every December
for years

until one day it all changed

at least that’s how I imagine it

in my mind

every time I pass by this house