Long Island - 2010

Margot and I visited Tim, Maggan, Madeleine and Declan over the weekend (we saw Grandma and Grandpa, too!) I'm in a rush, so I'll let the pictures speak the 100 or so words I'd normally type as accompaniment!

Friday Night Picnic with President Lincoln

Last night we picnicked at President Lincoln's feet. It was a beautiful night for monuments - low humidity, beautiful sunset, cool temperature. We had to share the monuments with hundreds of tourists, but it made for interesting people-watching. Lots of international visitors, plenty of Americans with sensible walking shoes, and even a Buddhist monk shared the evening with us.

We started with dinner on the far side of the Lincoln Memorial and watched the sun go down over the Potomac:


Then we sat atop the Lincoln Memorial as darkness crept in:


(Doesn't this photo remind you a bit of the second photo in this post?)

Finally we reflected a bit before heading home:

Countdown

Yesterday Margot and I were listening to Schoolhouse Rock's Zero my Hero, which lauds the invention of zero. Part of the lyrics include:

My hero, Zero, such a funny little hero,
But till you came along,
We counted on our fingers and toes.
Now you're here to stay
And nobody really knows
How wonderful you are.
Why we could never reach a star,
Without you, Zero, my hero,
How wonderful you are.

"Why couldn't we reach the stars without zero?" Margot asked from the backseat of the car.

"Well," I answered, "because we'd never be able to do the math it takes to fly a rocket into space." By this response, I meant that we'd never be able to figure out the physics needed to launch a projectile from the earth to a star. Big picture stuff. But I didn't say any of that out loud, because it's beyond M's comprehension (to be honest, it's beyond my comprehension, too).

"Oh! You're right!" exclaimed Margot. "Without zero, we couldn't do the countdown for a rocket! 10, 9, 8, 7...There's a zero in the number 10, after all. A rocket could never take off without a countdown."

Good point.

The List of Six

At bed tonight, Margot first confided in me that she's both excited and nervous for kindergarten. Almost in the same breath, she switched gears and told me there are six things she's really excited about:

1. Going to gymnastics camp in August
2. Our upcoming trip to Long Island
3. Going to Lake Anna with her cousins
4. Tubing in Jackson, WY, next winter (I was unaware that was on the agenda)
5. The first day of kindergarten
6. Tomorrow

The funny thing is, nothing in particular is happening tomorrow. She'll go to camp, play with friends, and go swimming. She'll probably get a popsicle at camp, and I think they have free play in the pool instead of lessons (she's a whiz at fetching those sinking toys from the bottom of the pool, apparently). But I wish I could end each day completely unable to wait for the next day to start, even when it's just going to be a regular day. We should all take a lesson from Mini!

Earthquake

Early this morning I awoke to vibrating and shaking. The bed buzzed, the pictures on the wall clattered, and the floors rumbled a bit. My first thought was, "Something in the basement is about to blow up!" I said aloud, "What is that?" A dazed Brodie thought a second and then mumbled, "Earthquake." And he was right. This was my first earthquake. I'm ok if it's my only earthquake.

Margot slept right through it. So did Portia. I thought dogs were supposed to sense these things! I find it funny that Portia slept through, actually, because the other night, when we had a wicked thunderstorm, she dashed up the stairs and burrowed under the covers on Margot's bed. So thunderstorms = terror but earthquakes = nonchalance in P's world.

A bit of irony: a few days ago, Margot asked me how earthquakes happen. I gave a demonstration of how the Earth's plates push on one another and how a quake happens when they shift. However, I think she was asking because she heard more about Haiti on the radio, and not because she is forecasting earthquakes. You never can tell, though.