A big day

There's something so funny about this picture Mom took of Agatha birthday-shopping the other day-- is it the contrast of blue vs all the pink? The orderly racks that fill the whole frame stacked with cheap but oh-so-desirable pink junk? The way Agatha seems to be signaling: "Buy me this Barbie lipgloss or else: don't let the floppy hair bow fool you-- I mean business"? I'm not sure, but it's a terrific picture, Mom.

But I digress. What I meant to say was: Happy 5th Birthday Agatha! Today was also the first day of kindergarten, the first day of second grade, and the first day of classes at Franklin & Marshall. So everyone was a little stressed, excited, and apprehensive today. 

Henry was probably the least nervous of all of us. He was trying to act cool, but he was so happy to be back at school with interesting things to do all day long. He loves to be home with open stretches of time to get lost in what he's doing, but after a summer of that, he was itching to get back to school. Yesterday he came with us to Aggie's orientation and hugged seemingly every teacher in the place-- this from my non-huggy boy. He's joined the running club, too, which is the first after-school sport he's now eligible for as a second-grader-- that will start next week.

For Agatha, it was a little more scary and uncertain. She has to learn new rules and procedures; like Henry when he went to K, she doesn't like that she can't just get down work off the shelves and do what she likes when she likes. I know from Henry's experience that she has the most wonderful teachers and I'm sure she'll come to love it there, but it will take time to get used to doing such "big work." I see in these pictures still a very little girl, slightly baffled by gingerbread-boy nametags and handwashing procedures and morning meetings. 

But she was happily chattering away when we picked her up; the first two days are half-days, so we took her out to lunch to celebrate at (her choice) an Indian restaurant.

I'm so proud of both of my brave, bright, eager learners, and so grateful we have a good school to send them to, full of dedicated people who are so happy to see them each day. Teachers! They are the best!!!!

The Queen of Pluto

For at least six months, Agatha has been telling us about the planet that she rules in her off-hours: Pluto. Not the regular Pluto that *we* know, but a tiny Pluto, Speck-Pluto, that is smaller than a speck of dust but contains a whole planet. It is freezing cold (like the real Pluto), which is good because Agatha needs cold and finds our planet, Earth, too hot. On Pluto, everything is made of ice. She is the queen of Pluto, but she also says that on Pluto, everyone is royal-- everyone bosses themselves around. And yet she remains first among equals.

For one thing, she has defeated her arch-nemesis, the Mysterious Bear. She routinely marshals her people to battle the bear; she is an archer and shoots golden arrows at the bear. Agatha flies to Pluto at night, while we are all sleeping, so we don't notice she has gone. While there, she visits her real mother, Mother Sun. Her father is Father Moon. She has two invisible brothers, Luke Skywalker and Harry Potter. They are often with her on Earth, as well as on Pluto, but we can't see them because they are invisible. They are nice brothers and always want to play with her. Through Mother Sun, Agatha has a special channel of communication to the weather and commands all living things to grow. One thing I wrote down in early May was: "Mom, you know who my REAL mother is, right? Mother Sun. It's really hard to play hide and seek with her, though. When she goes behind a cloud, I can't find her, and when she's out, she's everywhere!"( I wish I'd written down more gems over the last few months...)

Agatha talks about Pluto A LOT. It's her way to participate in any conversation. If you were to say, "I really need to vacuum," she might reply, "You know, on Pluto, houses vacuum themselves! They pick themselves up and shake themselves out and all the dirt comes out." I made a mental note back on May 24th when Agatha said slowly, "You know, Mom, all that stuff about Pluto? It's not all true..." I thought: there it is, the end of the imaginary world. But no, Pluto had a resurgence. All summer it was going strong. Pluto is a place of justice and control, bravery and generosity. Agatha is fully independent there, yet supported and sheltered by the other planets and her loving people (for example, her bed on Pluto is giant-sized-- and yet, of course, speck-tiny--and all the people of Pluto sleep in it together). She is a brave warrior, and a benevolent ruler: the queen of Pluto.

The last days of summer

I may have over-scheduled the kids this summer; they have been in summer camps every week since we got home from Ireland, six weeks in a row. I have certainly welcomed the quiet time and the work time, but it has made our days a little busy, trying to get to places on time just like during the school year. Note to self: yes to camps right after family vacation (for parental recovery purposes), but do leave a free week in there somewhere for the children to recharge a bit.

Henry's favorite camp this summer was Camp Shand, the YMCA camp up in Lebanon County where he spent all day in the woods. He's got what I fondly call "Uncle Tim Symdrome" (named after the way Uncle Tim would recount his adventures at Boy Scout camp): Henry will first tell you every negative thing about his experiences, recounting each fall, bump, injustice, mistake, and disappointment. Then, after awhile, the good things start coming out. "Mom! We got to take out a canoe by ourselves and paddle around the island twice! We got stuck in the shallows and had to get ourselves out!" The first day of Camp Shand his "Trading Post" money hadn't come through, so there were no Doritos at the end of the day: disaster. The second day a branch he was leaning on broke and he tumbled and bumped his head: also disaster. But I guess it improved after that, because he says it was his favorite. It's also one of the easiest for Mommy: I put him on a school bus at the local Y, about four blocks from our house, at 8 am, and he comes home at 5 pm, having been fed a hot lunch (generally of the chicken nugget variety, but still). Excellent! Maybe he'll be ready to sleep over there next summer.

Agatha's favorite camp was Farm Camp. Friends had raved about this place last year, but I thought, "how great can it be? they can pull weeds and plant seeds at home." Well, it is pretty great. Agatha loves taking care of the animals, which include pigs, goats, guinea pigs, rabbits, and donkeys. They spend the entire day outside; a garage has been converted to their "classroom" but it is open to the elements on one side. The farm is a quarter mile off the road, so the children can run freely barefoot all day long without having to be monitored or having to fear vehicles. There's a shallow creek to play in, a bamboo forest to hide in, and a slip-n-slide on a steep hill for the end of the day. The woman who runs it is a former Waldorf teacher, which means there is a lot of singing, observing nature, and allowing the children to do dangerous climbing. [The kids also did a week of camp at the Waldorf school (their favorite camp last year), which they fondly refer to as "the camp where they let you take off your shoes and climb trees."] Plus, the camp ladies cook the children a hot lunch from fresh, local food, often food they harvest and tend themselves-- and the children eat it! Potatoes, carrots, quinoa salad, homemade salsa... and melon, granola, and berries for snacks. Yesterday they came home with wooden bluebird houses they screwed together themselves. Agatha loves farm camp so much, she's having her birthday party there next weekend.

I had a frustrating summer of working on my interminable article on Emma Hamilton, the Bacchante, and Naples. I thought I'd finished it, decided it wasn't quite ready, completely reorganized it, and... it still isn't quite ready. I'm not sure if I've improved it or just made it different. It's also incredibly long, which means that the stakes are high and only a few places will take it, and... I've decided to take a break from it. Summer is ending, and I need to switch to a new project. I was unable to wrestle the bacchante into submission this summer, but I'm going to try to sneak up on her from behind in a couple of weeks. Wish me luck!

Speaking of which, in two weeks it will be a very big day: on August 28, Agatha turns five, and all of us have our first day of school, including Aggie's first day of kindergarten. I'm looking forward to having next week home with the kids to make the final preparations. Welcome, fall, and welcome to this new phase of our lives.

What I Learned On My Summer Vacation

We went to the UK and Ireland for almost a month, from June 10 till July 4. It was great! And also, difficult. I had the idea to do this because, when I traveled to Naples and Rome last summer for work, all I could think of was how much I wanted to share that experience with my family. Mom had always wanted to go to Ireland, and Ireland is an English-speaking country (mostly), so I thought that would be a good place to try our first experience living abroad with the children. In two years, we will be on sabbatical and I would like to live some of that year abroad, so I wanted to get a taste, learn, and introduce the children to the experience. Also, I needed to go to the UK for work, so Ireland could piggy-back on that trip and my airfare would be paid. Michael used miles for a free ticket, and renting a house is inexpensive in Ireland right now, so it seemed affordable. Here's what I learned on our summer vacation.

1. The plane ride is no big deal. I was worried about doing the flight with the children on my own (since Michael was getting a free ticket), so much so that we bent over backwards to find a flight that all of us could fly on together. I needn't have worried. The children loved the airplane, adored the personal video players in their seats, and couldn't believe that nice people kept bringing them drinks (even soda!) and food (in tiny wrappers and compartments!). They only slept about three hours, but they were great the whole time.

our London flat

2. VRBO is the way to go. I've booked houses and apartments all over the world through them for years now, and I've never been disappointed. We stayed in a beautiful, spacious, three-bedroom flat in London for about what it would have cost for a single hotel room. It was super quiet and we all had a dark, private room in which to sleep off our jet lag. The kids did great at that, too, sleeping 12-14 hours straight the first night and pretty much getting over it in one fell swoop.

3. In cities, you must visit a playground every day. We stayed three nights in London. While I went to museums and a meeting, Michael took the kids around the city. The first morning, we tried walking around Whitehall and showing them Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, and the Thames, but... it was not good. They didn't really care, it was busy and we had to watch them like hawks on the streets, and we had to ask ourselves what the point of this was. After that, Michael took them to the food hall at Harrods, where they bought Turkish Delight; they rode a double-decker bus; they went to Hamley's, the largest toy store in the world; they visited the Tower of London; and they looked at the gems and dinosaurs in the Natural History Museum. Even these sights were challenging at times. Poor Michael did not see a single work of art in London. By the time we got to Port Sunlight (near Liverpool), Michael had schooled me on the pace and destinations we could handle with the kids.

playground at Port Sunlight

4. The children are good travelers. Despite our disappointment (at times) at their inability to take in even sights (like castles) that we thought would be interesting to them, the children were generally adaptable to the many new situations we put them in. They slept well-- although I had also gone to great lengths to book lodgings in which each person had his or her own bed, and usually his or her own private room. They enjoyed talking with people we met, and they instantly made friends on every playground. Although they were balky some days about going off on the next adventure, they were also wonderfully eager at times.

After three days in London, we took the train up to Liverpool, to a nearby town called Port Sunlight, where I had a research appointment at the Lady Lever Art Gallery. Port Sunlight is a mock-Tudor model village built by a soap magnate in the late 19th century for his workers; his company is now Unilever corporation. We stayed in one of the little houses in this "chocolate box village" (as the English call a cute town). We could walk everywhere, and besides the playground we went to the local pub for lunch and even to an ancient church on Sunday. It was lovely, but the children were a little too attracted to the giant fountain in the park outside our house. We got scolded for letting them wade in it. 

5. It is windy in Ireland. And chilly, and gray and misty at least half the time. Here we are on the ferry crossing. It was so windy crossing the Irish Sea, we could lean into the wind and it would support us. These outfits we are wearing are in pretty much every photo of us on the Irish portion of our trip. The weather every day was in the high 50s or low 60s, with alternating mist, light rain, cloud, or breaks of sun. Our windbreakers and jeans had molded to our bodies by the end. 

After three days in Port Sunlight, we took the train to Holyhead and the ferry to Dublin. A taxi took us to the rental agency, and then we drove out of Dublin down to Cashel, Ireland, for our first night. This trip only took about 2.5 hours, but it was hairy. 

6. I don't like driving vacations. I don't think I have a single photo of our car, which is a telling omission. Driving in Ireland was stressful. I'm not practiced at driving a manual shift, the driving is on the left side, we had a wide vehicle, and the roads are very narrow and without shoulders. I knew all that going in, of course, but I thought it would be fine (other people seem to do it, so why shouldn't we?), and that we wouldn't be driving every day-- we had purposely arranged to have a full week in two different locations, taking a slow, non-sight-seeing approach. We figured we'd do outings some days, and the other days we'd take walks nearby or just be around the house. But in fact, we drove every day, for two reasons. I'll explain more below, but first.... 

7. The children loved the B&B. The first night in Ireland, we stayed in a B&B in Cashel so we wouldn't have to drive all the way to Dingle the first day. This is Henry with the resident pooch, Tipsy. We all stayed in a "family room," and Henry especially was so entranced by the B&B concept. He loved that we went to somebody's house, got to sit in their living room and watch their TV and play with their lovable dog, and they gave us a bed, and then the next day, they cooked us breakfast! Including pancakes and bacon and black-and-white pudding and an extra pancake when he requested it. It was such a thrill, I have resolved to visit some B&B's here at home.

8. Although it has a long, storied, and various history, there are not many material remains to see in Ireland. This photo is from the hilltop at the rock of Cashel, site of an important castle and church. This was indeed a majestic ruin, but a ruin nonetheless. Between the harsh climate and the even harsher history of conquerors sacking and razing cultural monuments, only ruins remain at the most historic sites. Perhaps the most extreme example of this was on the island of Inishboffin, where we went to the site of St Colman's monastery. (He was largely responsible for preserving Christian culture during the "dark ages.") There was nothing there (to our eyes) but a small, ruined stone church, filled with weeds. We ate our picnic there, in the driving wind. There wasn't even a plaque. I came to realize that Ireland's history is really in its literature and stories.   

Henry outside our cottage in Kilmalkedar, Dingle

Our local beach: wide, shallow, and totally deserted

9. We loved walking. We discovered that we have the capability to do walking outings of about 2 hours duration, provided Michael carries Agatha part of the way on his shoulders. Everyone enjoyed this kind of outing-- we all got exercise and fresh air, the children could run and explore, and we could take in the glorious scenery. In Dingle, our cottage was next door to an important 12th-century ruin, and a walk called the Pilgrim's Way passed right behind the house. These photos (above, and the two below) are from that walk. Below, our snack atop the mountain behind the house. The walking was through sheep pastures, over stiles. We couldn't get over how sopping wet the whole country is. Even on the side of a mountain, your feet would get wet. The entire country seems to be a rock covered with 18 inches of wet sponge. The locals go walking in wellies and with a walking stick, to keep balance over the uneven hummocks. It's not like any terrain I've ever experienced.

Reason #1 we drove everyday: there are few roads, and those there are are shared with trucks, buses, cyclists and walkers. This picture above is both the designated route of the Pilgrim's Way walking trail, and the main road across the peninsula from Dingle Town. It was not relaxing to walk on the roads, as you can imagine. We had to keep hold of the kids at all times, and be ready to spring into the hedges if a tour bus passed by. And yet, unlike in England, it was not possible to just walk off through the pastures. Ireland doesn't have a walker's right of way, and the terrain is rough. You really have to go on the designated trails, and we only wanted to go on those trails that were not also roads for vehicles. Thus, we drove every day to a new location to take a walk. It was usually only 15 or 20 minutes' drive, but it still required planning, getting everyone out the door at the same time, and dragging out the door anyone who wasn't exactly in the mood to go out at that particular moment. 

But when we did drag everyone out, we saw things like this (the Gallarus Oratory)...

within 20 minutes' drive of home, there were dozens of deserted beaches to visit, walks to take, and boulders to climb

hey, there's our car! on Conor Pass

alpine lakes, boulders, and children

Our cottage was in a nice mowed, enclosed yard that it shared with another cottage (visible above), which was inhabited by a nice German couple and their wonderful dog, Fenris. Our kids, especially Agatha, got over their inhibitions with dogs in Ireland-- large, friendly dogs were everywhere. Every time we were all home, the children and Fenris were outside together playing catch. There was a small rope swing in the yard, and they developed a game called Tarzan that involved swinging out and jumping over the patient, trusting Fenris. Plus Frank and Daniela were always giving them German chocolate bars. 

Henry reading in the stone windowsill

10. Ireland is not for wimps. Despite all these idyllic pictures, I have to say that the living was not easy in Ireland. The roads require a constant state of high alert. The cottage was picturesque, but somewhat mildewy. The weather was chilly and windy. The beautiful, deserted beaches had icy water; even though Michael brought a wetsuit, he could only swim for a few minutes. Food often seemed scarce. In Dingle, the nearest supermarket was in Dingle Town, less than 10 miles but about 30 minutes' drive away. Down the road a mile was Mike and Rosie's general store, which was literally a room of their house stocked with goods. I learned to get creative with canned salmon, frozen spinach and self-rising flour. Even the peat fires were a challenge: hard to light, smoky, and ultimately not yielding much warmth. I tend to think of myself as tough and capable, but even I felt beaten down and defeated from time to time. It is an unforgiving landscape in many ways. Beautiful, but austere. The melancholy history and culture of Ireland came home to me in a whole new way.

After a week on Dingle, we drove up to Galway and picked Mom up at the train station, then drove out west to the town of Clifden in the Connemara area. We dropped Mom and kids at our (second) stone cottage, then drove the two miles into Clifden town. Behold, right on the edge of town, with convenient parking, a wonderfully-stocked, bargain-priced Aldi store. I shopped like a mom who has been rationing food for a week:

our trunk filled with 100 euros worth of food

The Connemara stone cottage was more posh than the Dingle cottage, so it was good that Mom joined us for the second week, not the first. No mildew, very clean and well furnished. It was near the end of a long, unpaved, hilly, twisty road, and our view was of sweeping mountains and sheep pastures as far as the eye could see. This road is actually an ordinary secondary road on the maps, with a posted speed limit of 80 kph. I kid you not. Again: Ireland, not for wimps.

Despite the fact that our party ranged from 4 to 74, we were still intrepid and capable walkers. We developed a routine of taking picnic lunches so that we could give the kids more time to relax and watch Irish kids' TV in the mornings before we headed out. (They sometimes watched it in Gaelic if they didn't like what was on the English channel.) We ate a LOT of smoked mackerel and Heinz baked beans.

 11. Never go anywhere without digestives. English-style digestive biscuits, that is. I learned to bribe the children with them for pretty much everything: getting them out the door, moving down the trail, or keeping quiet in the car. A 99-cent lifesaver.

the weedy, ruined remains of a newer (12th century) church on the site of St Colman's monastery, Inishboffin

these ladies were troupers! even on a chilly, cloudy day after a queasy boat ride

Kylemore Abbey, a 19th-century castle wannabe

12. Understand the difference between a vacation and an adventure. This is reason #2 why we drove every day: we had a hard time not going out and sight-seeing. Even though we went with the idea of taking it slow, one week per location, once we were there we still felt compelled to take advantage of being there and seeing the local sights. The day trip to Inishboffin was a good example of a day it might have been better to just stay home and read books: it was rainy, cold, windy, the sea was rough and made us seasick, and when we got there it was just another series of beautiful, deserted beaches and picturesque ruined cottages. And why weren't we appreciating it more because it was so beautiful and special?!? The most relaxing vacation I ever had was when we went to Broadkill Beach, DE, and there was nothing to do except go to the beach-- no nearby town, nothing to buy except fresh fruit and vegetables from the farm stand, no attractions, plus it was terribly hot so during the middle of the day we stayed inside and read, did crafts, and played cards. We swam morning and evening, then had cocktails. Ireland was a great adventure, but it was a bit too long for so much hard work. Somewhere between these poles is a happy medium.

Bernie the boulder-climber

13. For every week of adventure, plan for one spell of babysitting. 3.5 weeks of 24/7 togetherness is a lot. We had planned that each of our three Sundays abroad would be a day of rest, and that we would only do one major outing per day, with enforced quiet time each day, but still, the pace was somewhat relentless. During our week in the Connemara, one afternoon we went to the national park and ate our picnic lunch. There's a playground there, and while Mom stayed there with the kids, Michael and I scaled Diamond Hill. It is the only mountain in Ireland to have a tracked trail all the way to the top-- even though at times that trail was stone steps up the steep mountainside. It was so restorative to have that break from the children, to go as fast as we wanted, to do something big without having to say, "maybe when the kids are older." It was a stunning view of the whole Twelve Bens mountain area, and it felt great. That evening we had another break and went into Clifden for a seafood dinner while Mom put the kids to bed. A little break allows you to refresh your spirit and sense of adventure.

steep!

double self-portrait at the top

our sunniest, warmest day at the beach-- maybe 60 degrees? note Michael in wetsuit

14. The trip made me appreciate home. I guess traveling usually does, but I had specific realizations about the wonderfulness of the USA, and of Lancaster County. We loved the walks there, but we can walk in beautiful places here. Ireland is gorgeous, but so are Wyoming, California, and Maine-- maybe we'll plan a trip there sometime soon. I've already adapted the routine we developed on the trip to outings here at home: last weekend we went for a nature walk at a nearby reserve, then stopped in a lovely Chautauqua village for an ice cream. I'm grateful for our delicious, abundant, fresh fruit and vegetables here in Lancaster, and the hot summer and the bright blue skies and puffy white clouds. It's great to be home.

15. I love traveling with the family and I want to do more of it. There are hard and dispiriting times traveling with the children, but the moments of joy and discovery are so, so sweet. I've already started planning next summer's adventure-- maybe to a destination with warmer water, more sunshine, and where we will not be renting a car!

Dipping a toe back into blogwaters

It's May, and I haven't even downloaded pictures from my camera since Christmas! But here are a few good ones. More soon, I hope...

The September Schedule

Back to school! This is Henry on his first day of first grade, and Agatha in her fairy costume for a friend's fairy-themed birthday party. 

Everything started up in September: We are more highly scheduled than ever before. Now Henry's in school 8-3 every day, and Agatha's in from 8:30-3 four days a week; Thursdays I pick her up at 11:30 am. Michael's and my teaching started up as well, of course, with its own schedule of obligations, plus Michael is now chair of the department and I'm on the tenure and promotion committee. Henry started soccer (practice Monday evenings, games Saturday afternoons). Agatha started dance class (every Tuesday at 4). Even Sunday is not immune: the new year of Sunday school has started, with its own schedule and curriculum. Because I feared the million details of chairing the department would take over our lives, Michael and I crafted a precise and elaborate schedule of how many and which hours he would work, emphasizing that the home hours were to be focused on our family. Of course we also had to schedule in exercise, because when one person is exercising the other is caring for children-- and that is no small item to fit in, since Michael is training for a half-marathon. After a couple of weeks of feeling completely stunned by the pace of things, we are now getting habituated to it and all is going well-- except the house was not getting clean, so last weekend we made a schedule for that, too.

(Sigh.)

Although this truly sounds crazy, both Michael and I feel much calmer when we have slotted in time for everything to get done. It's when you don't know how things will get done that we get really stressed. But I think our tightly scheduled lives are the main reason we are contemplating-- planning, really-- for a long, unstructured sojourn in Ireland next summer. Three or even four weeks, nothing to do but take walks and bike rides, read, visit the pubs, and stoke the peat fire. Who's in?

Four Years Old!

 This really says it all. Killer 6-year-old photo bomb. 

I especially like how I have a saintly halo.

Agatha is four today! Here she is on her birthday outing with Gran. Earlier this summer she and I went to Claire's at the mall because she wanted a new headband, and she was bowled over by the glittery, girly merchandise. She started calling it "the birthday store," because everything she wanted for her birthday was located there. So today, Gran took her shopping at Claire's and she got to pick out several exciting items: glittery stretch bracelets, princess-themed lip balms that fit into a handy metal carrying case, tiny figurines of Snow White and Prince Charming, and, the most exciting gift of all: a child-size Hello Kitty umbrella. She's wanted her own umbrella for a long time and she is absolutely thrilled with her presents. Afterward, Gran took her out to lunch and she got to blow out a candle in her ice cream.

At the "birthday store" this summer she had seen a barbie-sized doll of the movie character from "Brave," and absolutely loved it. The doll has red, curly hair and a blue dress and shoots a bow and arrow. Agatha called it "warrior barbie." Of course I got her Warrior Barbie for her birthday, along with a lot of other glittery, magical stuff like a decorated treasure box and filmy lavender fairy wings with a matching wand. We always think of Agatha as a magical wood sprite, so it seemed fitting.

Happy birthday to our joyful girl, so full of warmth and so able to take pleasure in the world. The day you were born was one of the happiest of my life.