If you were here
you'd know we're doing well
and things have changed in four years
but not too much
If you were here
you'd see her garden in full bloom
like it was that year
full of life like it was back then
it keeps on blooming
If you were here
you'd have more little ones than you did back then
two you never even got to meet
they can throw footballs now
and talk back to you, just what you were waiting for
If you were here
you'd know that lucy said
"when he's not sick anymore,
can he come be my grandpa?"
just yesterday
If you were here
you'd get to know my husband
like you never did
and you would know why i love him
so very much
If you were here
you'd know we're still pulling for cancer
riding again this year, and raising so much
you were so proud of that
back then
If you were here
we would make you the most delicious top hat
you've ever tasted in your life
(maybe not as good as yours)
if you came to visit boston
If you were here
we wouldn't have to miss you
but we miss you so much
and we wish you were here
today
5.23.2007
5.20.2007
Harbor Islands
Last weekend P's parents came in for a Mothers Day visit from Ohio. They can't stay away! It's really fun that they love Boston as much as we do. They assure us that when the time comes for help with little people, they will be here in a flash, which is so great. We had a busy weekend. They came in Friday (post-cookies, see previous post), and P treated them to his homemade steak dinner. He is so proud of his newfound ability to cook a steak. It was delicious. Saturday morning I made french toast, and we weren't sure what to do that day, but then an idea came to us: why not visit the Boston Harbor Islands--we had never been before. It turns out the ferry over to the islands is just at Long Wharf, a three-minute walk from our house. It was a cool day, but we enjoyed the 25-minute boat ride and the view of the city. We chose George's Island, where pretty much the only thing on the island is a Civil War-era fort. The view of the city from there was spectacular.
5.11.2007
Day Off
Today I took the day off work to do a lot of stuff... you know, important stuff like get my passport picture taken (just over three months 'til Chile!) and clean the house (in-laws coming) and do laundry. What did I end up actually doing (in addition to the important stuff)? Taking a long walk around the waterfront while it was still hot and sunny out (before the rain came), and trying out a *new* chocolate chip cookie recipe (Williams-Sonoma Cookies book) in my new convection oven! Suffice it to say that by the time P's parents arrived for the weekend, 2pm, and everyone had had a taste of the scrumptous delights, more than one cookie per person had been mysteriously taken ... we all know who the culprit could be... 
5.07.2007
May
It's May! It's May.
May is many things to me. May is surely an improvement over the past five or so months in Boston. The sun is brilliant today,--a reminder that warmer days are coming soon. I should have worn sunglasses, but the sun felt hot and perfectly melting on my face. May is happy and bright, sunny, springy, and full of life. Birds are chirping! May is the month when the tulips come out in Columbus Park, two blocks from our house, and the month when the flip-flops show signs of life, too. May is when the restaurants open up their front windows. May is green and new. May is a deep inhale of fresh air.
But unfortunately for me May is always a reminder of the dreariest May four years ago, an entire month with not a bright spot to show for it, not even the sun outside. May is sad for me. May is all out of whack in every possible way.
May is the time when I start a new exercise routine; I go shopping to spruce up my wardrobe; I bake my worries away; I sink deeply into Scripture; I cry for no reason.
May is so in need of an uplifting distraction that it is the perfect time each year to start gearing up to raise money for our August bike ride for cancer. (I tried to edit this and everything erased, bummer.) We are riding in memory of my dad, who died four years ago this May, and in memory and honor of everyone we know who has suffered from this disease. We are riding for Paul's mom, and my step-mom, and all our friends who have loved ones with cancer.
This year I'm putting my May to good use.
May is many things to me. May is surely an improvement over the past five or so months in Boston. The sun is brilliant today,--a reminder that warmer days are coming soon. I should have worn sunglasses, but the sun felt hot and perfectly melting on my face. May is happy and bright, sunny, springy, and full of life. Birds are chirping! May is the month when the tulips come out in Columbus Park, two blocks from our house, and the month when the flip-flops show signs of life, too. May is when the restaurants open up their front windows. May is green and new. May is a deep inhale of fresh air.
But unfortunately for me May is always a reminder of the dreariest May four years ago, an entire month with not a bright spot to show for it, not even the sun outside. May is sad for me. May is all out of whack in every possible way.
May is the time when I start a new exercise routine; I go shopping to spruce up my wardrobe; I bake my worries away; I sink deeply into Scripture; I cry for no reason.
May is so in need of an uplifting distraction that it is the perfect time each year to start gearing up to raise money for our August bike ride for cancer. (I tried to edit this and everything erased, bummer.) We are riding in memory of my dad, who died four years ago this May, and in memory and honor of everyone we know who has suffered from this disease. We are riding for Paul's mom, and my step-mom, and all our friends who have loved ones with cancer.
This year I'm putting my May to good use.
