Dear Joe and Eli,
This is my new blog. You can go to it whenever you want (if you can get on the internet) and read what I have to say. You can reply to it, too, which is pretty neat, and if you don't type very well, you can always just give me a call. I would like to just write you a letter now and then, but it could get very expensive, so I think I'll just use the blog.
In this blog, I'm going to name stuff we do. Tonight, for instance, is a Wednesday night and I drove up from Cortland after work to my house, changed fast, and drove with Henry down to Joe's soccer game at Barry Park. He is the gold team, of course, and I found Eli there (Mom left), and I picked him up and Henry went to Peter's with me and Eli.
We got the food we needed for Henry to cook a very unusual supper--but more on that later.
So we dropped Henry off to cook. Eli and I kicked the ball around for a while, then saw Mom running past in the park with Latte. He ran after her (after looking for cars, of course) and we ended up on the edge of the water in the lake. It was very beautiful, blue, cool and hot at the same time, and we saw a turtle swim and paddle around under the alge as if he were looking for something important. We never figured out what it was, but we did have a conversation about snapping turtles and Bobby's house--until we saw the resident Great Blue Heron, who was standing extremely still--they are very good at that--and we watched him watch us. I have been reading Ralph Waldo Emerson, so I thought of how Emerson would have looked at this giant bird.
Eli played with a muddy puppy, then we got a juicebox for Joe, watched him play a bit more, and went home. There, Henry had a *very interesting* supper for us: chicken tandori: curry and peas and potatoes and gravy and rice. Joe and Eli thought it was sort of hot, but they were very polite. They told Garfield stories (until I stopped them) and we talked about rides at the fair and vomiting for a long time. Then the boys went upstairs; I checked my e-mail and Joe read and Eli played wit the frogs Speedy and Browny until Professor Palfi came up and looked at the frogs with us and watched Joe play Bugdom (he recently got to level four, a feat that takes a lot of time). Joe was serious, but polite and very good at explaining the game; Eli was patient and through with the professor as he explained about the frogs. Henry was just trying to get Tibor Palfi to look at the lastest draft of his book on drugs and the brain. I guess they did.
Then Joe and Eli and I went to the park and played catch in the dark with the large plastic softball-shaped ball. Joe threw it very hard at me, but I caught it. Oh, I forgot to mention that we took pictures of the frogs and mailed them to Mom.
All is well here. I love it when the boys come over. They are getting very tall, becoming good storytellers, and generally treat each other well.
That is all for October 6, 2004. I see Joe tomorrow morning at 7:45! We'll have fun (and food).
1 comment:
My dear brother,
I loved reading the blog. Why do we call blogs blogs? Is it because we are at war?
I tried to comment on the blog but couldn't do it. I don't know why. Perhaps it is becuase the debate is on and everyone is distracted. Perhaps it is becuase my group talked about fate; perhaps my snippets of converstation during my time at church this week drove all spirtual awareness away from the blog. Oh the things I heard this week. They were thick slabs of stuff -- for a few moments tonght it was about prison people, and what it is like being there, and what they will say when they trust you . I always think that it must be terribly difficult to go to a prison to visit, especially as clergy, and listen and fogive those people for what they have done. It takes a lot of courage.
I remember, though, one thing that came back to me, and I shared it with the table of 6 of us at church tonight. A woman I was working with at HRDI in Chicago was so unusually together than the other clients I had. Most Most of them, as you know, were dirty and really ruined inside and out. She seemed so clear and ready to get out in the world and take charge of everything since she had gotten out of prison. Then one day, she told me that she had been in prison for murder. I didn't really know what to do with that information. I was faced with the worst thing I could ever imagine. I just couldn't wrap my brain around it. I didn't think I could like her anymore, much less be her counselor, and I was really ashamed of that. I did, though, but wrestled with it a lot.
I felt pretty bad about the fact that I even had a problem with her. But the only reply tonight was how much she must have trusted me to tell me her secret. I had never thought of that before. Here I was thinking me me me. It is really not about me at all. Hm.
Anyway, a fuse just blew (literally) up int he kids' room, and Mary is all upset. She is a fuse herself. Tomorrow she tests for her blue belt in taekwondo, and although she is very ready for the test, she is very nervous.
I loved hearing about all the instruments Joe has loved. Isn't the french horn the one that you shove your hand into? Is it the one that is used in Young Frankenstien to lure the monster up the castle walls?
I thought of the apples you and Eli were involved with today. You know, the Sayres planted apple trees, and so did the Saffley's. In fact, Janet Safley's dad, the pig farmer extrodennare, planted one tree for each child. They grew low to the ground and were very tart. Were they crab apples? They were always warm and sunk half in the grass. The horses loved them. I love big crunchy mouth noises when horses eat apples and carrots. Wow. How did I get to this paragraph? I must be tired.
I hope you are well. I love the blog. More later
Sara
Post a Comment