Visiting Addison

So if you remember last year, it was utterly pouring when we went to visit Papa and Freddie. This year it wasn't pouring, but it definitely was grey. The rain held off while we wandered around in the cemetery...


I think the saddest thing was the little toys that my cousins had left on Papa's grave were gone. I know little plastic dogs clog up lawnmowers, so someone probably thought it was time for them to go. It's just sad, because it showed that somebody besides Mum and me came up to visit. A stranger wandering by wouldn't know that Papa liked cocker spaniels or that he had grandchildren who gave him their McDonald's toys-- the toys gave a sense of individuality and character to the grave. Now they're gone.


I should get Papa a giant wooden raccoon, like this guy has. Because no grave is complete without a giant wooden raccoon.


Then we went up the hill to visit the babies.


I wish I knew more about them, like what they died from.


Mum and I looked everywhere, but we couldn't find their parents. I think we do this every year, we just forget that we do it. Do you think the babies feel lonely without their parents around?


At least their big brother is beside them.

And up the hill...

... we found the twins Henry and Henrietta and their big brother Hamilton. Man, how come people don't name their kids names like this any more?!?!





And of course, no trip to visit Papa would be complete without visiting the llamas.

Mixed Tape Friday night!

So for the last couple of weeks I've been listening to Dinosaurs and Robots for their Mixed Tape Friday nights. This is from their website:

"Every Friday night, Dinosaurs and Robots will upload a dusty cassette mixed tape! Found at garage sales and junkyard glove boxes, mixed tapes provide all the voyeuristic thrills of reading somebody’s diary without the related ethical quandaries. Tune in each week for a new exploration into heavy metal thunder road trips, teenage bedroom melancholy meltdowns, college radio clunkers, headbanger barf bag parties, glam rock glitter fests, industrial punch-your-lights-out rockers and the ill-advised tapes created by lovers soon to be spurned. Before collaborative filtering, music was hand selected for us by those who know us best."

I wouldn't say that I like all of the music, but I like how eclectic it is. It's definitely got me wondering what I would find if I scoured garage sales for old mix tapes. I have all of my old mix tapes in a box, and they really are like little diaries and representations of our personalities that we would either make for friends or they would make for us. They also can be quite creepy, like peering into windows at night.

Meanwhile, the snowpack around here is shrinking dramatically. We have little rivers everywhere, and every time I walk in my neighborhood I see little kids splashing in them and sailing little paper boats and things (which makes me think about the idyllic Eden that childhood should be until I realize how absolutely filthy this water is and what microbial beasties are living in that lovely spring runoff) . This gurgly stream was particularly pretty:

And in our classroom we have a very impressive little garden. This is a baby zinnia:


...and this is a baby dill:


It's so funny-- the kids come to my room and immediately go to the windowsill and say encouraging things to their plants, and gently pet them, and water them with capfuls of water. Along with zinnias and dill, we have violets, johnny-jump-ups and basil sprouting. The only one that hasn't germinated is mine (!!!!!!!) but I'll just bring in some that I've started here at home.

My obnoxiously blinding sock is coming along nicely:


The purple is just an illusion-- the yarn is only blue and red and yellow. These socks are little like 3D glasses for your feet.

My Weekend Part I: How I Entertained Myself Saturday Morning

So this weekend I went home for a little family and fun. It was Ellen's birthday and Jess's going-away party, so I knew I was in for quite a few days. Thus, I present you with the first of three posts. This first one is How I Entertained Myself Saturday Morning, the next one will be Fun With Ellen and Kate, and the last will be Bon Voyage Jess.

Part I

Saturday morning, while waiting for Ellen to arrive, I went out to Fort Williams. I know my first attempt at shooting the lighthouse sucked, so I decided to try again. Thus, for about twenty minutes, I played tourist.




When I was little (even up through middle school) I Didn't Get It-- what was the big deal about this lighthouse? The rest of Fort Williams was so much cooler-- it was like that nearly infinite expanse that is Calvin and Hobbes' backyard. There are forts and hiding places and kite-flying fields and paths and old trees everywhere, and yet everybody came for the Lighthouse.

I understand it now today, but really, there is more to see than the old blinky-blinky. This narrow gorge and the rocks, for instance, where the Annie C. McGuire fetched up.



Afterwards I walked up the hill to the big stone mansion.

Ever since I was little I have called the "Caterpillar House" because to me it looked like a big caterpillar, some big woolly bear, lying at the top of the hill, just watching people.


The skeletal remains of this place have now been deemed "unsafe," although I remember it always being unsafe. Even though there was always the danger of being beaned in the head with a falling brick, you could still wander about inside the place. Now there are stupid chain link fences everywhere, keeping people out.



It's still eerily beautiful, though. These slabs of stone probably were the beginnings of my deep fascination with The Abandoned.


I love all the angles. There is so much to see once you look.


This is my favorite picture that I took this entire weekend, just because it all came together so perfectly:


And of course, being the nearsighted kind of person I am, here are some close ups:



When I was little I always thought it was big deal for a tanker to go by. The utterly huge behemoths with their barely-audible low bass thrums always made me happy. I loved watching them start out so small, just a little speck, and then grow bigger and bigger until they were the only thing in the whole ocean. Dad would tell me they were ugly smelly things (often filled with disgusting things like tapioca roots) but I still loved them. So when I walked out to the end of the road and past the fort, I saw a tanker starting to make its move into the bay.




After about ten minutes of being entirely engrossed in the progression of this monstrosity, I finally turned around and started back to the car. When I gave one last look back, I saw this little boy, still enraptured by the sight of this beast:


It's good to know I'm not the only one who gets lost while watching these things.