Friday, August 26, 2011

How I Spent My Summer Vacation


I wish I could say that I traveled more. I didn’t. I wish I could say that I used the time to become fluent in French or German, but that would be a lie. I didn't learn how to play chess, either.  

I spent the summer trying to get a working computer. My old one gave one final, dyspeptic “pfft” the week before my son got out of school and the day before my son returned to school, I finally had a working one. I am guessing that this was serendipity in disguise, designed to keep me present, enjoying time with my boy. Aside from occasionally having a breakdown in the middle of the night due to my limited technology and waking my husband up with my anxiety-fueled, three-in-the-morning fear-fulminations, I did enjoy my son. And my summer.

Also, I saw friends.

I pickled and fermented. In June, I read a book on sauerkraut for the fun of it. Right now I’m reading Plimpton’s oral history of Truman Capote, which seems like the perfect coda.

I ate at Native Foods.

I facilitated play-dates. I also pondered whether the term “play-date” is goofy for a nine-year-old and concluded that, yes, it is.

My son had a birthday and we stormed the Field Museum with our giant cake that was supposed to be a shaped and acting as a sarcophagus but I ultimately had to concede that I lacked the essential pastry skills-patience combination to tackle. It was just a layer cake with candy “jewels” inside. You know, like a sarcophagus’s treasures. Whatever. It was still cake. 

We adopted a dog, the sweetest dog ever. Ever! His name is Romeo and he is a Precious Moments poodle mix come to life with a kaboom of sassy curls on top of his head. The dog-shaped hole in my heart has been filled. When I think of him, little cartoon hearts rise and pop like bubbles around me. [I'm thinking about him now. Little cartoon hearts...]

I wrote articles on my husband’s laptop while my son was breathing down my neck to fight aliens or whatever it is he does on Lego.com and I sent those articles off. In a few months, I project that I will be pleasantly surprised when the articles arrive in my mailbox.

Of course my brain buzzed and swarmed with vegan revolutions, feminist uprisings, agitating notions.  Now that I have a working computer, I am eager to return to my regular programming.

Oh, and I have big plans. Really big ones that also kind of make my stomach queasy in the best possible way.

I’m glad to be back.