Friday, August 17, 2012
When Alexi gets home tonight, after work and his Friday night hockey game, he’ll be off for one day shy of three weeks. Setting up an ‘Out of office until September 7’ email autoreply had to have felt good.
In four days, we’re getting on a plane, returning the day after Labor Day. I don’t feel compelled to feed our housesitter, much as I love her, so we’re cleaning out the pantry. We had a pot of rice and beans for dinner last night, and refashioned the leftovers into tacos tonight, topped with avocado, tomatoes, corn, and sour cream. The next few days we'll have yogurt parfaits, bacon and eggs and biscuits, and other pantry-cleaning meals, while we pack and organize and daydream about what we’ll be doing for the remainder of the summer.
The boys had camps this week - Cal chess, Abbott hockey – and, unaccustomed to the grind of traffic while getting them to and from, I found myself muttering inappropriate things under my breath more than once. I don’t think the kids caught it. I heard on NPR recently that Seattle has the fourth worst traffic in America.
This morning I took a walk through the Arboretum, hovering under the shade of the massive trees. Inadvertently, I left my headphones at home, so I took a day off from my audiobook, The Grapes of Wrath. It was kind of a relief. Steinbeck, he's like a preacher that can make you squirm.
Cal wanted to know what I’d done while he was at camp. I told him about meeting up with a friend, who he knows, then amended my description to say, specifically, that I’d had a lemon brioche and my own little teapot full of tea. He smiled and imagined it. I also described my walk, and we reminisced about a recent field trip there, together.
After dinner, we cooled off in the ocean, then the boys collapsed in their beds. Now it’s dark, and for the first time all week I need a sweatshirt outside. I hear a light breeze on the water, and a distant train horn. Tomorrow is supposed to be cooler.