It's not really about the scissors.

I've been really cranky lately. I've been feeling like a big green grouch. So cranky and grouchy in fact that the last time Tim asked me where the scissors were, I snapped back, "Where are they usually?" (sorry Tim). At first I chalked it up to PMS, but I can only do that for so long, and then I have to start figuring out what is really going on. A few days ago I woke up and noticed that during the night I've been doing something similar to chewing on my cheek, there are holes on the insides where my teeth meet. Then, later that day I noticed that I drive around with my teeth clenched, and I have to actively remind myself to relax them. I think this move it affecting me more than I care to admit.

This is not usually how I am about things. Yes, I like order, and I like plans but I could always get by without them. I can ignore the fact that we have a huge piano to get from the dining room to the truck that will be parked on the street (if they can even get it onto our dead end street it's going to be so freaking big) and both doorways have about five steps down and the movers who got the piano in here backed the truck right up to the porch and put their ramp out and rolled the piano into the house. I was always ok without very important plans to solve problems like these in advance. But now my teeth are constantly clenched, i chew on my cheek at night and I snap at my husband about where the scissors are (I would just like to mention here that it is [or at least i thought it was] common knowledge in our household that if you can't find the scissors, you go look in Eden's room. She usually has the tape and the string, too). Anyway, we are so on schedule. Tim has even geeked our move out by (brace yourselves) cataloging each box, entering it's L, W and H into a little gadget that tells us how many cubic inches we have packed. It's pretty cool. and organized. But still- I can't really eat because I feel like my stomach is turned inside out all the time.

So today I decided to not deal with this anxiety yet again by hanging out with a baby and a new mom. Dita, Miles and I had a really great day eating lunch and trying to check out the new show at the Albany Center Galleries. It was closed, but we got a few good peeks in. The show includes works by my uncle, Robert Gullie, my dear friend (and roommate from college) Laura Glazer, and Chris Stain who is a brilliant graffiti artist. It felt pretty cool walking towards the building and seeing larger than life images of Laura's birds. It was also really great to hang out with Dita and Miles. I've forgotten about the rhythmic life of an infant- The eat, sleep, hang, eat, sleep hang of a baby puts a lot of things in perspective and brought me back to thinking about things in the moment while I am there. So today I will stack and put away the CD's that are in our way while walking to the kitchen and tomorrow I will worry about tomorrow.

Learn to Coast.

We just found out that a neighbor recently published in Mother Jones (here is the article). It's pretty entertaining and I haven't driven the same since I read it.

Little Green Mysteries.

For the past three or four years, I've planted a few perennial flowers in the back garden here and there. I'm mostly obsessed with hydrangeas, two of mine bloom beautifully and two have only one or two blooms all summer. This makes me sad, and sometimes I try to coax them into blooming more. I talk to them and I offer them luxuries like, "I will build pretty little winter huts to protect your fragile branches in the 0 degree snowy, windy weather" and "I swear I will water you at least twice a week this summer!" but to no avail, the two skimping hydrangeas are showing up late again this year, and I probably won't see much before we leave. sigh.

There is another strange phenomenon going on in the back of the yard where I planted some peonies three years ago. It looks like this back there:
There are two plants on the left, one gianormous one in the middle and a small blooming one on the right. They have been there for three years and this is the first year the left ones haven't budded. They were bought all at the same time from the same store and I can't figure out why only two are blooming. While looking up information on the care of peonies, I find that they are a very hardy plant. Oh dear, it must be me.

I did have a sweet little surprise while walking past plants and taking notes. I couldn't remember what kind or color these healthy lilies were (peeking out through the strangling weeds that I have still to take care of):
And then I remember that i, in fact, forgot to plant this lily last year and it's growing out of the pot I bought it in, probably better than if I had planted it myself.

So, here's to the Erin, the new groundskeeper at Casa de McEwen (as of August). I know the plants will love her more.

Thunder

We are standing in the open front door staring at the western sky. It's dark, windy, and the rain is starting to fall. It was hot and humid today and as expected on such summery days, a thunderstorm is finally rolling through. Our favorite place to watch is from the front porch swing. The thunder rumbles and the rain tells us it's finally time to pour a glass of white wine or open a beer- start the evening. Sometimes, if the thunder is loud enough, the kids shriek from upstairs. I stand next to Tim thinking, this might possibly be the one thing I'll miss most. He says out loud, "Are you going to miss this?"

Buggy bug bug.

Sometime around midday on Thursday, (the fourth day into Tim's trip to Cleveland) I spaced out so badly that I found myself slamming my breaks in attempt to avoid the big fat SUV directly in front of me. My nearly full ice coffee flew into the passenger foot space, and i thought, "i was totally looking straight ahead the whole time, what is going on?" This was the beginning of The Bug.

Thursday Eve was the kids Writing Workshop Celebration, which is the only school event that I will not miss. The school works in conjunction with Columbia University Teacher's College and the program is just amazing. Throughout the school year each classroom has a few "Book Release Parties" where they open up the classroom and share the books that they've written in a particular category. Unfortunately, they leave non-fiction books till the end of the year and the best stories go unread by most of the parents. I remember enough from Thursday to know that Eden's book was about cats and Eamon's book was about whales (on the way there he was sure his was about cats, I haven't figured out why), but i don't remember much else. We went home and watched a movie while the rest of the 'hood played outside. I could barely stand up.

Friday, I was home all day with the kids due to the holiday and I managed to get three pictures packed. After that I mostly needed to lay on the couch, often yelling "please stop screaming" and, "if s/he says s/he doesn't want to get sprayed with water then s/he really doesn't want to get sprayed with water" towards the driveway where the children were. I almost puked twice, which is serious for me. The last time I puked was before Eamon was born. Before that, I don't even remember.

Tim's plane got in at 8:30PM so, in order to kill some time, I took the children to Target. I warned them when we went in that I was only purchasing packing tape and q-tips, we would not walk out with anything else. I think the only reason this worked is because I let them wander aimlessly through the toy section. They looked for as long and as hard as they wanted, and I just stood in the center aisle looking spacey. We left, got Tim, and I pretty much slept from then until this morning (thank you, dear husband, I needed it).

But I feel GREAT now! So, here is your Friday Photo Flashback that Tim and I found while packing:

Dear Playroom,

Within your slanted attic walls, where a full grown person can't quite stand straight, you have seen great things. You've watched the building of wooden commuter train tracks, cities, nations of animals with houses, shops, and little wooden landscaped yards. You have witnessed princesses atop firetrucks putting out deadly fires, and transformers dancing the waltz with pandas. You have seen the same block building built and knocked down (gleefully!) more than hundreds of times. You knew all the secrets of the hiding forts, and where the treasure lies. Your nooks were loyal friends during hide and go seek and the refuge where After Pinata Candy Gorging predictably took place. You've seen tremendous tickle fights and cautious consoling. Your third story stairwell has lead to hours upon hours of uninterrupted, uninhibited imagination and creation. You have seen young friends develop relationships, you have seen adults transform into children. You are the setting of lemon yellow wall colored Best Memories Ever. You have served us well, dear playroom. We will miss you.

How long will they play?

We started a new game this morning. It's called "pack you books!" So far everyone is still enthusiastic:


I wonder how long they will play.

For the last few months we've spoken about the move like, "if we move..." or "We might live here..." We haven't quite made it official for the kids yet, though we have just started talking about it to neighbors and school friends. Eamon has noticed and because the move will happen right around his birthday, he's said to lots of people "before my birthday, we are moving to California!"

The school that the kids go to currently will be relocating for the next two years for a renovation. Yesterday Eamon told me that they were packing things up in boxes in his classroom, too. Last night I said "You know that you will be going to a new school when we get to California, right?" To which he replied "you mean they're not coming with us?"

And so it begins...

I just want to say that I LOVE Craig's List. Really, really Love it.

Yesterday I was staring at the packing catalog thinking of all the much more exciting things I could fill our home with for $210 rather than packing boxes and bubble wrap. I was also thinking how terribly annoying it is that companies actually make new boxes for people to move their stuff in. There has to be a better way! People are moving all the time, and stores are always getting rid of boxes. Where are all the boxes?

On Craig's List!
I scored a whopping 43 (recycled!) boxes for the equivalent of a nice bottle of wine. Plus I was able to pick them up all in one spot rather than drive around all creation checking in alleys behind stores to see who left some out.

So here it is, the first of many....


Tim is in Cleveland this week, hopefully his last trip. We've settled the last bit of business with Employer and now there's no turning back. From here on out it's, pack-pack-pack, visit, pack-pack-pack, school thingy, school thingy, pack-pack-pack, Field Trip!, load truck, wave to truck as it drives away with all our stuff, vacation, fly, empty truck, fly back, vacation, Party!, say goodbye and fly Home.

It seems so strange to be calling Los Angeles our Home.

From the Pandaphiles

Today Eden is going to a playdate at her friend Phoebe's house. She is so excited that she's been bouncing continuously since Wednesday when we made the plans. Why would such a play date be so extraordinarily exciting? Well, Pheobe was born in Shaanxi, the province in China where Pandas reside. That's about as close as you can get to a deity in Eden's eyes without actually having supernatural powers. Pheobe has tremendous Panda Love, too. It's pretty much all they talk about. They made plans to get thier Pandas together and play panda school.

Pheobe is an amazing girl. She was placed in a 1st grade class a few days after meeting her new family and flying to a new country and home. I just recently learned from her parents that she's only known English for about a year and a half, she speaks so fluently it would never have occurred to me otherwise. It makes me wish I could immerse my kids in a second language sometime soon.

Here are the Pandas all lined up ready for Panda school:

Photo Flashback um... Saturday.

Eden in the Pacific. Age 3. (This was delayed in part because Nell is so smart she graduated from college and I helped her paint her kitchen as a present and then Steve suggested orange, "really a creamsicle," he said, for the backsplash [and he was right], so there had to be an appropriate drink at her graduation party in her new kitchen. I spent part of Friday gleefully collecting ingredients. It is called creamsicle and it is good. So go ahead and blame it on the drink.)

A little less Baby

Today I came into school with Eamon because I had to drop some things off to another mom. I was following and when I came around the corner after him, I saw a giant 5th grader rocket out of the breakfast room, collide with Eamon, knock him literally off his feet about 18" into the air and then land directly on top of him. Ouch.

Eamon didn't look at me. The gianormous 5th grader helped him back up and said sorry. Eamon kind of did the equivalent of a cartoon character shaking his head and then walked over to get in his Kindergarten line.

I followed him to his line, bent down and said, "Wow, are you ok?" He had the beginnings of tears in his eyes, so I asked him if he needed a hug. He put his arms around me and while he was hugging me, his hands patted my back gently.

"I'm ok mom, I landed on my backpack."

After these next few week I won't have a Kindergartener anymore. I was so worried that Kindergarten wouldn't work for Eamon. Eden thrives in her school setting. Her Pre-school teacher had nothing but compliments the whole year long. She is sharp, quick, and outspoken. The same Pre-school teacher told me to be cautious with Eamon. Not because of what he can do, but how he learns. He's mechanical and in his head like his dad. We have to be aggressive advocates for him because of that. Some people in his academic life wanted me to get him tested for learning disabilities when he was 4. We didn't go through with it. He didn't know all his letters, but he could rock the lego table like an 8 year old.

It seems like a small miracle that he has such an understanding teacher who gives him the time and patience he needs. I have my foot in my mouth right now because last August, when we found out who his teacher would be, i was very much against it. She's been around for a while, and she seemed a little old school to me. But every conference this year she said "Everyone learns at their own pace, he will get it when he gets it."

She was right. For the past two weeks Eamon has been asking me how to say nearly every sign that he sees and spell words that he hears. He repeats the sounds over and over under his breath. He is on the cusp of that magical click when it all comes together, and he wants to do it because he really really loves it. It baffles me how you want them to do something on their own so much, but when they finally learn it and after you are so proud of them, you get sad for the little bit of baby they just lost.

Eden just said this...

(really loudly while playing that game of origami folded paper with fortunes)

"if I become a richie like Oprah, I will give half of my money to charity"

The girl has only seen Oprah twice. In her life.

And then in a completely unrelated conversation, I asked her to please relax to which she replied "YOU relax lady!"

(who is this child?)

All for the Points

Yesterday Nell told me about an ingenious plan to encourage her kids to clean. They get points for doing things and in exchange, they can trade those points in for treats. The points are represented by shiny glass blobs that you can put plants in or put at the bottom of your fish tank (these really make the whole thing irresistible for the kids, who doesn't love to collect shiny pretty things?) I immediately told the kids about it and now we have lists of what they can do and what they can get for the points they earn (computer time, ice cream truck, etc.)

I would just like to express my eternal gratitude to Nell after having this exchange with my daughter this morning:

E: what else can i do, what can i do for points?

Me: take a look at the list.

E: OH! The dishes, can I do the dishes?

Me: sure

E: Oh, Thank you Mom!

Happy Mother's Day

(The third line Phonetically spells Beautiful)

Photo Flashback Friday.

I am so very sorry that i missed this...

it's enthralling to see what a pianist does with their hands when someone else is playing the music. At one point Ben takes his bent knee piano playing stance three feet away from the keys. It's so cute!

I was going to talk about trees and strings and things...

But then she said this:













Click

E: Are you going to put that on your Blooooog.

me: Do you mind? I guess I should ask, huh?

E: I don't mind, just don't write anything FUNNY about us, ok?

me: I'll try my best.

Programmable Soda?

What does it take to loose your love of an artist? What is it that allows you to hold onto to them, too? Should you work at it, know you gave it it's chance, or let it speak to you (or not) without effort, knowing it will work if it's meant to?

I am struggling with Tori Amos. I love her, loved her. Scarlet's Walk seemed brilliant to me, there wasn't a song i didn't like. When the Beekeeper came out I was so excited about a new album that it kind of blinded me. The weekend her tour hit the northeast was the same weekend of a monumental birthday for Lauren. It was an excuse to see as many shows as possible and we scored an extra last minute add-in show in CT on our way from NY to Boston. It used to be that the "secret" time of the show when the band would leave and she would play the piano all by herself was my favorite. This tour was entirely solo. We even scored 4th row seats for the show ON Lauren's birthday. Jackpot! Except, it wasn't great. The songs just didn't squish and refill my heart like they used to. Yes, she played a version of Tear In My Hand that made me weep, but besides that it just wasn't there. What's happened? Is is me? Am I growing up, am I old?

I was weary when American Doll Posse came out. I didn't follow too much of the press about it. I listened to only a few of the preview songs. I can no longer go into one of her albums knowing about the concept behind it. I get what she is doing, i think it's great. I like the dialog of mothers asking the men in charge "what's going on?", but i feel like I'm being force fed. I'm giving ADP it's chance, i even took "Almost Rosey" out for a spin with the windows rolled down. It went well, but I feel like I'm picking through a plate of pretty food that might taste horrible. Is that fair, or is that just what it's come to with her?

I'm going to give it a few weeks, in the meantime, i want to listen to this over and over...

Beware of the Fairytale Flakes (or, strange encounters at the grocery store)

I am so sorry for mothers of young girls who come across this at the grocery store (It really does say "Fairytale Flakes" under "Princess"):
And while we are on the subject of being against things:
Also, Has anyone ever seen an artichoke that looks like this (it reaks of GMO to me)?:



On another note, I'm now sure that anonymous is not in fact my mom. So sorry! So who are you anonymous? are you still here? Please do speak up!

The weekend

I want to backtrack to this weekend because it was worth a few good stories (mostly the Orgasmic Flan, but we'll get to that...)

Saturday my mom and I left for Boston to see my sister's Graduation from NEU. It's her second masters, but the first time she's walked for one. We are proud, it was a busy two years for her. It was a nice ceremony. The speaker was good, they got right to the point, the walking was like a car wash and we were out of there in time for dinner.

Mmm dinner. There is a place right around the corner from my sisters house that I've always seen a line outside of but never been to. It's called Dali and it is an authentic Spanish Tapas Bar. It is now in the number two spot of my all time favorite restaurants, right behind Cafe Moto. The wait was 2 hours but i forgot about it after we sat down. The plates were truly small and one (maybe two) bites were enough. There were 5 of us, we drank sangria and tried over 15 dishes. It was heaven, and then came dessert. We ordered flan and almond cake.

I like dessert, but i don't have a terrible sweet tooth. I am more of a savory girl. I'll choose salty over sweet on most days which is why after putting a spoonful of Dali's flan in my mouth i was stunned when i finally came to and heard Lauren's friend Victoria say "it's almost like 'When Harry Met Sally' but for real." I looked around and everyone at the table was staring at me while i savored the flan. I kind of didn't care, I was more worried about not swallowing because i didn't want the flan to be over. We were supposed to be sharing desserts, but Bjorn took the plate of flan and handed it to me. My sister said, "please don't lick it".

After spending dinner at a Spanish restaurant we were guilted into going to a Cinco de Mayo feista for a friend and fellow graduate of my sister. He is raising money to ride his bike across the country for A Really Good Cause that i can't quite remember right now. It turned out to be a kegger with free mustaches. Good Times.

I came home to Nell and Tim scanning letters from our adolescent past. The kids were all playing together so nicely and i walked into giggles and smiles from Tim and Nell in the kitchen. It felt good. It felt free and shapeless like when we were writing the letters. It was a moment i wanted to spend a lot of time in. It made me miss all the people who weren't there with us.

10 Whole Things

After some technical difficulties and much help from the wonderful tech savvies in my life (thanks Nell, tim) here it is, 10 things you must know about me (tagged by Nell):

1. I grew up in a house that sat on 10 acres of land. Two acres were open and eight were wooded. I spent every every day during the summers before 2nd grade playing outside with my sister. I remember eating ice pops on the swing set but i don't remember what we did when it rained.

2. I once fell out of a second story window. Actually, it was more in-between falling and jumping. One day, during the summer before i went to kindergarten, my sister and i were told not to leave our room until the entire thing was cleaned. We decided we had to run away. We grabbed two sheets, tied them together and hung them out the window. I, being the youngest, was told to go first. I climbed out holding onto the sheet but when the time came to climb down the makeshift rope i panicked, jumped and let go, falling to the freshly seeded grass below. My sister ran down the stairs yelling, "Andrea's DEAD, Andrea's DEAD!". My mother (seven months pregnant with my brother) screamed so loud that the neighbors who lived 1/4 of a mile down the road came to see what had happened. I was fine, but started to sob when i saw how terrified my mother was upon finding me lying on the ground.
(One other time my sister and I tried to run away, we packed a blanket, water and gum (in case we got hungry). We got to the top of the driveway and couldn't decide which way to go. We instead went to the back of the house and had a picnic with water and gum.)

3. I spent the summer of 1997 in Bar Harbor with my sister, her Mean Friend, and Laura. We lived in a haunted house on Ceder Ave. I'm pretty sure the Ghost was a woman. She would turn the lights off and close windows on us, but she would do scarier things like thrown towels and yell things to men in the front apartment.

4. I used to travel between Albany and Rochester by bus a lot. One afternoon on my way to Rochester a man from Saudi Arabia sat down next to me. Somewhere around Utica he offered me $350 and his hand in marriage. I declined and he got off in Syracuse.

5. I am addicted to vintage instant photography (as opposed to digital i guess- Which i am also pretty addicted to). I have a very extensive collection of photo booth pictures. This fall I dragged my brother on a 4 hour round trip to Northampton so that I could make a special one for Tim on our anniversary. I also like polariods but i haven't pulled mine out of the attic in over 5 years.

6. When i was 13, i went to England for three weeks on an exchange program sponsored by the Rotary Club. While there, i smoked my first cigarette, dyed my hair fire engine red, inhaled all sorts of strange aresol things through handkerchiefs, drank entirely too much, and bought my first pair of doc marten boots. When i got back I had to give a talk to the Rotary club about what i learned.

7. The first concert i ever went to was 10,000 maniacs at the palace. It was December 12, 1989. Natalie Merchant is still one of my very favorite artists.

8. The only famous person I ever ran into serendipitously was Natalie Merchant. It was a fall evening in Hudson and i saw her walking towards my sister and i on the sidewalk. She was carrying her sleeping daughter. I was starstruck and kept walking. Later, we saw her in a modern furniture store sitting on the couch looking through a fabric sample book. She asked her daughter "this is our color, don't you think?". Her daughter and I locked eyes and my heart just melted. I said "hello" and left the store.

9. My Children were both born naturally without medicine, not because I am hard core against it, but because I am so terrified of a large needle being stuck into my spine that i would rather endure 13 hours of child labor to avoid it, for real.

10. I met my husband when i was 14. People call us high school sweethearts but we actually only attended school together for 1 year out of the 16 we have known each other. We had a shotgun wedding. I wore a red dress. This November was our 8th anniversary. It's hard to even consider what life would be like without him.

I think I am supposed to tag people now but Nell tagged all the people I know on the internet. It's late, I will think of something tomorrow.

Photo Flashback Friday ( I know you've been waiting...)

all five people who read my blog (yes i can name you- Tim, Lauren, Evan, Nell and an anonymous who I'm sure is my mom.)

(Two CUTIES!)

My Personal PTA Liberation

I've just never been one of those girls. I never wanted to go to the prom, I didn't really like going out drinking, I don't need to know what everyone is doing all the time. I'm not the kind that craves those things. Not that I don't like those people but I'm just not them, or maybe they aren't my people. I like to be open though, I like to be accepting and if I can, I try to avoid judgyness. I have done a pretty good job of being true to myself in that way, but then children came and with them a whole new set of self doubt. Take for example, Eden's first year of school.

I was suckered into it thinking I was helping, That PTA thing. I was being an active mom and because I'm a young mom (I'm the bridge between teenage moms and the moms that actually had some of a career before getting pregnant. I wear my gray hair with pride to maybe convince one of those set of eyes that look at me that way at pick up time that I am Old Enough.) I jump into these things full force to break a few stereotypes, or to maybe upset a few statistics. So i signed on to be the Arts In Education organizer for the entire Elementary school. At first I thought it would be easy. Some silly friend who wasn't really paying attention told me it was "like, you pick up face paint and things, then they refund you." no, no. It was not like that at all. It was getting plays and artists to come to school and perform but also working closely with the principal who has exactly 2 hours a day for things like this to happen but only if it's sunny and nice.

I am phone shy. I am a procrastinator. I know these things about me. And yet I did it anyway because I was making a difference in my child's education. Except, I wasn't the girl for the job. So I did the minimum. There were some really cool things that came to school for the kids to see, puppet shows and plays. But I didn't do a stellar job and there were some miscommunications that made me want to cry. There were some jabs at meetings that I tried to defend myself against and ignore after the meeting was over. I have very thin skin. I know this too. I beat myself up over it even thought I knew it wasn't for me.

So we move on to when Eamon goes to Kindegarden. Similar pattern, different events. I bake for the auction. I do the gossip out in front to see when they are adding a new Kindergarden class and why and who will get moved and can I keep my child from getting moved? Probably with the help of some PTA friends. Well, I shouldn't say that. What I should say is, yes, the squeaky wheel does in fact get the grease. But this never was right for me.

So just a little while ago I started to look at the real connections I have made around school, The people that actually listen when I talk and don't ask leading questions. The people that I feel relieved to see out in front, under the tree at dismissal. The people I think are pretty amazing people and parents. I started to notice that they aren't PTA busys, they help maybe once or twice a year and that's it. So I'm ok with not being That Mom because I know that someone else is and she is better at it than me. Eden and Eamon will be ok if i don't head a committee or have a Great Fund Raiser Idea! I will continue to bake and make things for whenever they need baking and making because that's the mom I am. I don't know what took me so long. Phew.

Pen Pal #1

There are two kids in Eden' class that I really hope she corresponds with until she is at least in college and maybe beyond. I will probably give her a few nudges in that direction mostly because these two kids are so cool and both would write amazing letters, but also because I would like to know very much where they end up in the world because already, they floor me.

Let's talk about number one. We were lucky enough to be able to walk/drive Lakota into school three days a week this year. His parents are both teachers and super laid back and really cool (both from SoCal, so hopefully, they will visit). I really like Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday mornings because they are unlike other mornings in my life. Usually when Lakota comes inside, he greets me with "Hey Andrea, want to know...", or "Hey Andrea want to hear...". He is both a dooer and a go getter.

One Morning, he just walked right past me with a piece of paper and sat down at the table.
After about 5 minutes, he said "I decided last night I want to be a doctor and it's going to be a lot of work. I should really get started now."
I looked over his shoulder to see a Lakota drawn anatomically labeled picture of a person. He was studying it for his college exam coming up in about 10 years.

Another morning he told me about a club that he started.
"it's called freedom writers (based on that movie i never saw) and i gave everyone in the club a notebook and I'm going to call the PTA president to see if they can give us some money to publish these as a book.

One morning while walking to school he and Eden found a bus pass (It was expired but i didn't tell them) After about 10 minutes of discussion it was decided that they were going to write a series of books called "The Skip School Kids" where these kids use a magic buss pass to go to places like the zoo and museums. Eden will draw the pictures and edit, Lakota will write the stories.

Last week he read me a poem he wrote about cookies, it was really good. He said "My grandmother told me that i should protect my poem from being copied, so if you want to use it, can you please ask my permission, Andrea?"

For his last birthday, Lakota's parents and grandparents gave him a mini cherry red electric guitar. He's learning Johnny Cash songs now. I'm told me he's perfected "Ring of Fire" and learning "Walk the Line". He is also working on his first album. It's called "Run Over". It's pretty dark, but good.

Maybe he and Eden can co-write stories through letters between here and California. Or maybe songs for an album. I'm excited for the letters they will writ to each other, the possibilities are endless.

Caps For Sale, The Remake.

Eamon drew this picture of caps for sale, it's the part where the merchant is so mad at the monkeys that flames shoot out of his head and scorch one of the monkeys in the... wait a second, that doesn't happen in caps for sale, this must be the remake.