The Easter Bunnies go to Stop 'n Shop

In keeping with tradition, James and I gathered up a wide range of edibles that contained virtually no nutritional value at the store yesterday. Last night we assembled our kids' Easter baskets and I expect it will distract them contentedly for a day at least. This year it was no presents, no money, no perks. Just an assortment of candy, gum, chocolates and their own bag of Flavor Blasted Goldfish.  (and please don't think of ill of us for bringing this junk into the house- I stand guilty as charged.)

Thoughts from the Garden

A beautiful Saturday afternoon and my husband, James, and I head out for a visit to the New York Botanical Garden without any of our offspring (who plead indifference, or boredom at the prospect of an outing with Mom and Dad). It's a bittersweet era in this current chapter of parenthood- our children are pretty reluctant to do any thing with us besides go out to dinner, go shopping, or go on vacation. But I digress.



We made our way to the Bronx and immediately upon entering the garden's beautiful grounds, the spectacle of documentation was everywhere. Since the advent of digital cameras, and phones with excellent capture ability, this picturesque locale means being surrounded by people photographing the horticulture, the outdoor sculpture installation, one another, and the fascinating orchids on display in the conservatory.

It's clear that it is no longer enough to merely see. There's an urgency to make memorable images as a record of the time spent. And I, although fascinated by the amazing installation of tropical flowers, was more in awe of the relentless documentation happening all around me. I once thought that Americans were a people of doers and achievers, and now I feel we have become a nation obsessed with committing to digital memory everything and anything that happens. Watching and recording has surpassed engagement as the pinnacle of existence.

Another Rescue from the Goodwill

I'd like to think that we all have drives and desires in us that we don't really understand-but hopefully are leading us down roads worth going. I have long been able to enjoy poking through a Goodwill, a yard sale, a flea market while surveying the offerings and discards of others. Sometimes I see something so special and abandoned that I have a need to rescue it so that I may bring it home where it will appreciated and tended.  So there I was in the Goodwill, with Sarah and her friend, looking for shirts for Max's next project, and I wandered the bric-a-brac and housewares aisles chock-a-block with a diverse assortment of items. And there they were. A pile of classic porcelain china dishes made in Denmark with some vaguely recognizable manufacturer's mark marked at $6.99 for the set. They had to come home with me. Upon returning I researched and learned about them, cleaned them up and found them a place in the cupboards. Along with the uneasy feeling of why certain objects beckon to me in a way I don't really understand.

Way back When (from the archive)

Michele and Laura 1982

A parent with their baby is a subject that never fails to yield a flood of feelings- and years later serves as a powerful memento for all involved.

Fondued

My son Jacob is one of my most reluctant subjects and this week brought a new challenge- he needed to create a short film for French class in which he prepared fondue while narrating the recipe en Français. After a little frustration on my end and an editing session with the same production assistant after dinner, his film is done. Another school project sails out the door.

(Not really. I followed up with Jacob after school and the whole thing was never uploaded correctly to YouTube which is going to affect his grade which has pi**ed him off  and it's Friday night so he's staying out with his friends. Another disgruntled member of our family.)