so, so long

You may have noticed that there is a LARGE gap in posts. I posted sporadically last summer, and then not at all until this week.

Things have shifted a lot since Eamon was born. Yes, I am married to the same man and live in the same apartment, but I don't do the same things from day to day. Theater has been my passion for many, many years. I still love it, but I don't know how to continue working in it when the pay wouldn't cover child care and the hours are long. More than anything, I want to be there for my son. Theater not only would take me away, but it wouldn't help me provide for him.

Last August, confused about what to do with my life, I went to a career development workshop that my alma mater was hosting for moms looking to start working again. I had been working 1 day per week since Jan 2011 and I had designed the set for a show, but I didn't feel like I had a career or focus anymore.

The workshop enabled me to see what skills I had and how I could best use them, and in late September I launched my new business, Eliza's Eye Family Photography.  The business took up every spare moment I had in the fall, between figuring out how to run it, doing shoots, retouching photos and whatnot - all during Eamon's naps and after he is in bed or when Christopher could watch him. Now that the logistics of the business have been more or less figured out (though of course there is always room to grow), I feel a little more able to knit and read blogs and whatever else I did before. And so I am back.

I'm not sure where this blog will go, or if I will continue it for long. But it might be fun to see where it takes me...

a year later

Eamon was born a year ago today.

At just about this time last year, I was settling in and trying to get some sleep, the first in about 36 hours. Though the maternity floor was quiet and I was exhausted, it was not easy to fall asleep. There next to me, in a clear plastic bassinet, lay a little baby with dark eyes. I couldn't stop looking at him, and I felt like he was watching me. He didn't seem tired, just curious about where he was and what was going on.

Meeting your child is such an abstract and huge and wondrous thing; it is hard to describe. I also imagine it is completely different for each parent, and for each parent's child.

I had long wondered what my child would be like: his coloring, his features, his personality. I think one of the first things I thought after his birth was, "Holy s**t! I am going to know this person for the rest of my life!" (Or that is the hope anyway.) And combined with all of that was, "I am going to raise this little thing. I am going to nurture him. I am going to know him very, very well. And love him. But I don't even know who he is!"

And so that first night I couldn't stop watching him, his little face in the darkness, as he watched me. Eventually I (guiltily) sent him to the nursery for a few hours just so I could relax and get some rest.

A year later I know him better, but each day brings something new. I am amazed at how much he has changed in a year. From a wiggly little being he has become a small boy. He makes sounds, some of which could be words ("da," "dag," "dat," "duk."), and he understands some of what we say. He can crawl quickly, and pulls himself to stand. His personality has begun to emerge, and I see an observant and friendly (though slightly shy) child with a sense of humor and an interest in everything around him.My life today barely resembles the life I had on February 12, 2010, and it took awhile to reconcile that, to rearrange my expectations. Having a baby immediately immerses you in everything Baby - feeding it, changing diapers, getting it to sleep, trying to sneak some naps for oneself, wondering when you will cook again, let alone take a shower or go back to work. I ended up being laid off shortly after Eamon was born, and so the past year has meant being more of a full-time mom than I expected to be. I was assured that I would get my life (and body) back after about a year, and that was true; slowly things have shifted to a place where I feel more in control. Once again I am designing for theater and I feel energized by my knitting and crafts. Eamon's naps are such that I can do some work during them now, and we are both more comfortable spending time apart.

Where does this bring me? It has been a transformative year, a year full of learning and letting go of expectations. And as we move into a second year with a child, I hope to move forward, both with embracing parenthood and balancing a career. (Or balancing parenthood and embracing a career?)

the end of a decade

I kind of hate end-of-year summations. In fact, when the New York Times ran their "decade in pictures" feature at the end of December, I skipped it. I just don't like the sentimentality of it. I don't like how those things make me feel, or how they are supposed to make me feel.

Seeing them, and hearing people reflecting on the decade on the radio, did make me think back to my own life in the past decade, however.

In the fall of 1999, I was just finishing my first semester of graduate school. It was a new beginning for me. And now, here at the beginning of 2010, I am expecting my first child, another new beginning.

Some things have stayed the same in the past 10 years: I am still in New York. I still work in theater. I don't feel that much older, and I still take myself and my work as seriously as I did as a grad student.But some things are different: I have a home as opposed to a perch. I sleep on a mattress with a bed frame and not a loft bed a few feet from the ceiling. I am married. I have a cat (though Dinah has been with me since the spring of 2000, so she only just missed sharing the beginning of the decade with me). I lost some innocence by living through 9/11 and its aftermath, and I lost more when Christopher was attacked last year.

I am curious what the next decade will bring. Of course, the first milestone is very clearly in front of me: motherhood. I know that having a child will change my life irrevocably, but I also hope that I won't be giving up the other things that are important to me, namely my relationship to Christopher and my interest/need to create and work.

I hope you all have a wonderful new decade, and of course a happy new year!

a meme

Those of you who read lots of blogs will have noticed that there's a new meme circling around. Ewephoric tagged me a few days ago, and I've been thinking about how and when to respond...

First of all: Rules.
Each player answers the questions about themselves. At the end of the post, the player then tags 5-6 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know they’ve been tagged and asking them to read your blog. Let the person who tagged you know when you’ve posted your answer.

Now, the questions:

1) What was I doing 10 years ago?
In June of 1998 I was finishing my first year as an "adult," that is: post college. I had been free lancing, and landed a summer job as a programming assistant for the Independent Feature Film Market (which is run by IFP). It was one of those intensely interesting jobs with a steep learning curve, lots of responsibility and almost no pay. I was calling indie directors and producers asking if they'd speak on a panel. And then, once we moved into our venue, I was responsible for organizing our squads of volunteers. Trial by fire!

2.) What are 5 things on my to-do list for today (not in any particular order)
Things I've done:
-read the script for Couldn't Say
-write a note to Anne's husband (see previous entry)
-Call Christopher (he's in Dallas for a reading of one of his plays)
-email a theater company that has tentatively hired me, and confirm that I am hired (I am!)
-unclog the vacuum cleaner (it seemed to have a blockage, and I pulled out what looked like a hairball!)

Things I need to do:
-clean the apartment (we'll see)
-pay some bills
-think about the set design for Couldn't Say, and perhaps do some research
-make a healthy dinner for myself
-get the publicity photos for Couldn't Say from the photographer.

3) Snacks I enjoy:
-hummus and pita
-apples and pears (though not together)
-rice chips (I really like salty snacks. I just try not to buy chips much, as I'll eat a whole bag in one sitting)
-almonds

4)Things I would do if I were a billionaire:
well, I couldn't keep all that money, right?
-I'd give a bunch to charities, a mixture of arts organizations and groups helping in third world countries, like the AFSC.
-I'd renovate our apartment, and I'd do it right (like with an architect and a contractor, and we'd stay somewhere else while it was happening) And we'd buy the apartment next door and expand into it.
-I'd quit my day job.
-I'd rent a studio space for myself, and a writing space for Christopher.
-I'd spend a few months a year in Tuscany, and I'd learn Italian again. Or I'd brush it up, anyway. And I'd cook amazing food. Or I'd hire a Tuscan cook who could cook for me when I'm too busy to bother.
-I'd collect art.
-I'd buy tons of yarn. Or a sheep farm. (Christopher would kill me.)
Really, my life would change. Drastically. That's what it really comes down to.

5) Places I have lived:
I'm not sure what counts as "lived..." Here's where I've lived for more than 6 months.
-Philadelphia (18 years)
-Maine (though only in the summers)
-Northampton, MA (college)
-Florence, Italy (9 months)
-New York City (Manhattan for 6 years and Brooklyn for 4 years)

6) Six people I would like to tag are: Terra, Alyssa, Boodely, Friender, Meg and Kristina.

getting political about my food

I don't usually talk about my politics. It's just not what I want this blog to be about. But I am very into food, and I love the way that our country is finally excited about local and organic foods. It's just good for everyone.

And so it made me angry when I just read this Op-Ed in the New York Times about a mid-western farmer who had to pay $8,000+ in fines when he used a field to grow organic watermelons, because the field had been slated for corn. I find it so horrible that big agriculture dictates what we eat and what is available in our markets, and controls what we pay for our food as a result. Don't get me started. Just read the article.

a birthday cake

Yesterday was my birthday, and Christopher baked me a cake.

Christopher doesn't cook. I mean, sometimes he boils pasta, and I've taught him how to make brown rice and quinoa, but he doesn't usually assemble ingredients in a complex way and then serve them to multitudes. But he wanted to impress me, and somehow he knew I'd be completely blown over by his courage to do something (on his own, and for the first time) that I have done before, and to make something that would be judged by our guests and myself in one bite.

The cake was initially meant to be a surprise, but since I kept mentioning the cake I was planning to bake, and showed no sign of leaving the apartment, he told me of his plans. Together we looked at some cake recipes, and we settled on a recipe for a coconut mace cake his aunt had brought to our wedding. She had also sent the recipe to my cousin, who had collected recipes into book for my bridal shower. The recipe as written is just a list of ingredients, in the order of adding them, along with an oven temperature and bake time. Since Christopher had never baked a cake, we decided to follow the instructions from a cookbook for a yellow layer cake, but use his aunt's ingredients. It worked rather well, I think!
The recipe calls for boiled frosting, which I've definitely heard of but did not know how to make. I pulled out the Joy of Cooking, and though there were cooked frostings, there was nothing specifically called "Boiled Frosting." My other standby cookbooks also offered no help, so we settled on a buttercream frosting, which involved cooking over a double boiler while mixing and measuring the temperature until it was exactly 160 degrees. I actually helped for that part, since it demanded more than one pair of hands.
Since we rarely make cakes, and definitely not iced ones, we didn't realize until it was too late that we didn't have an icing spatula. Christopher improvised rather well with the blunt side of a carving knife.
Not so bad, right? This is the finished cake, dusted with coconut flakes.
And here it is in action.
There aren't any more photos of the cake, or partial cake, since it was quickly devoured by our guests last night. It was incredibly delicious though, and my friend's boyfriend said that he was intimidated by the bar that Christopher had now set.

Christopher's reaction to baking the cake: he's not impressed by other people's baking anymore, since he had now done it and it didn't seem like such a big deal. Does this mean he'll bake regularly?

Happy New Year!

We had a very low key New Year's Eve last night. Our activites included seeing Sweeney Todd, an Austrian dinner at Cafe Steinhof and then fireworks in Prospect Park.

It was rather perfect, in my opinion. We didn't have to pretend that we were excited for the New Year. We didn't get drunk. We just enjoyed each other's company and where we were at each moment. And it was fun to feel like we were part of a larger party, celebrating with everyone around us. By the time we left the restaurant they were passing out handfuls of mini champagne poppers and wacky flashing lights, and everyone was very merry. And walking up to the park I felt a little as if we were part of a greater event, since we were joined by hundreds of other people headed to exactly the same place.

Unfortunately I don't have any photos (it was dark!), but it was quite incredible to watch the fireworks through the trees. Check out this photo of it here.

holiday spirit

We got our Christmas tree yesterday. For some reason, this seems like a huge accomplishment, perhaps because we've been talking about it and scouting out sellers for over a week. Christmas trees in New York are expensive, and we were balancing the wish for a tree against the need to not spend a pocketful of money.

Yesterday we looked at trees at the Greenmarket and on Flatbush Ave before we found a small seller near 7th Ave in Park Slope. He had decent trees and nothing was over $65. We found one we liked, paid for it and left it there while we continued shopping in the area. A few hours later we came back and carried it home. Our tree is about 5 feet tall, which is at least a foot taller than any tree I've ever had on my own. Christopher mounted it on its stand and I put a strand of lights on it. It is bare. We haven't decorated it, but the 6 or so ornaments that are in the box will go on quickly and I'm afraid will seem meager. Rather than go out and buy a bunch of ornaments, I've decided that it would mean more if we (I) made some. A string of popcorn or cranberries will perk it up, and I'm thinking that some Korknisse would also be welcome and quick. Elizabeth Zimmerman also has a pattern for knitted stars. I went through my boxes of yarn this morning and pulled out all of the little remnants and sorted them into piles by weight. I didn't realize that I had so many little bits of yarn and I feel a little overwhelmed by them all. But oh, perfect for some Korknisse and stars, don't you think?

a fall day

We had a long walk this afternoon in Prospect Park. The weather was gorgeous and the air brisk. We discovered the Audubon Center, which I'd seen from afar but never entered. It was full of children in their Halloween costumes as well as nature displays. A ranger was talking about the great horned owl which was perching on her arm.

It's exciting to me that we live so close to something so wonderful.

Perspectives

After yesterday's post, I received a wonderful email from my mother which basically said that knitting is not an obsession or escape: it is (at least in my case) an art, and that I should give it that sort of respect. Hearing that from her was a huge relief, a permission of sorts to continue exploring something that has been giving me a lot of pleasure (though I do have this nagging guilt about it).

In any case, yes. I love crafts. I love making things, whether that be a sweater or a meal or a model for a set. I love trying out new combinations and seeing what happens. I love experimenting, seeing what I'm capable of creating. This afternoon I settled down with my sewing machine and made two little blankets for a play that I'm designing. They are supposed to be little fantasy blankets, little bits of comfort to two homeless people from the angel of death. Yesterday I bought some silk and today I just sewed it up. It was very satisfying and easy and now I have some scraps that I feel like I should make something with. Our apartment is a little less deluxe though, so I'm not sure what the scraps would be good for.

I also took a walk this afternoon. Christopher went to a writing group and I was done sewing, so I took advantage of the end of the daylight and get out. It was such a beautiful day! Crisp, sunny, perfect fall weather. I wandered through Prospect Park and just took in everything. I felt a little like I was in that M. Night Shayamalan American Express commercial, the one where he sees meaning in every little gesture. That was what my walk was like. Completely refreshing and invigorating (since I didn't bring my camera I'll share a photo of the park in March, which of course is very different.) My lesson today: that I need to remember to give myself permission to reflect and also do things that I enjoy. When I do, I am a more centered person. The trick is to give myself a few hours to do something for me, whether that be a walk, some time with my sketchbook or the sewing machine.

my state of mind

My beloved Park Slope Food Coop, which I can wax poetic about for hours, is driving me crazy. I joined the Coop in May 2004 and was told then that debit card machines were in the works, that within a few months we'd be able to pay with debit cards. This turned out to be a big lie, and so for the next 3 years I continued to pay for my groceries with cash.

Until now. On October 1, they installed a new cash register/debit card system, which you think would just make everything easier. But alas no. The two times that I have shopped since October 1, both of the cash registers where I've been checking out have frozen and I've had to stand there for 15-20 minutes while someone fixed it. That's two for two. Added to my disillusionment is that on Wednesday, when I did my squad leader shift, two of the other squad leaders (who were responsible for making sure that everything runs smoothly with the cash registers and the cashiers, whereas I'm responsible for making sure the shelves are stocked) did not show up. And I was left to try to pick up the pieces on the shopping floor. It was horrible.

I am not happy with the Coop and have actually decided that it would probably be better to use Fresh Direct for the next month until they've sorted out their new checkout system.

In any case, this is probably bothering me more because of a general anxiety I've been carrying with me for the past month, anxiety which is contributing to frequent headaches that I'm now in the process of being tested for. I've had an MRI. I'm scheduled for an ENG. I sort of feel like a week at a spa or doing yoga would fix my health problems, that they're really just stress-related. (and of course the headaches and appointments only make me more stressed) How can I convince my insurance that acupuncture would be cheaper for them than a brain scan? Or maybe they can send me to a weekend yoga retreat (also probably cheaper than an MRI).
To deal with my sense that nothing is under control, I've been, -yes, you've guessed it!- knitting like mad. Christopher's stocking is coming along (did I mention that it's going to be huge!?) and I've also now started a sweater for myself. Stitch Therapy. If only it really took away my stress; I feel like the knitting is more of a happy compulsion, perhaps an addiction...

remembering things past

I feel like the older I get, the more I think about my past. My cousin Julie is in the Army reserves and is being sent to Afghanistan this fall; I believe that she started active duty on Monday and so we gave her one last hurrah at a party on Saturday. It was bittersweet-- too many people to get a real conversation in and yet I felt a real longing to connect with her before she goes.

Of all of my cousins, Julie is closest to me in age. She is a year and a half older, and when we were kids we played together like good friends. For some reason we would always hang out on the lavender carpeted steps at our grandmother's house, or else we'd mix cocktails of different sodas (Sprite and root beer?) from our grandmother's bar. At some point, sometime around 1985, our grandmother took us both on a cruise to Bermuda. Julie and I would wander around the ship on our own and apparently -at least according to her - I was a terrible troublemaker. I can't help wishing I remembered these things with more clarity. All I remember was that as a child I felt unbelievably alive when I was with Julie. We climbed trees, we explored the cruise ship. And yet this also seems so recent, so much a part of who I am now. Sometimes I feel like I could just reach back and be there.

But now Julie is a mother and a nurse and a soldier, and I'm a wife and a New Yorker and a set designer. But I feel like we still could connect the way we did when we were twelve, if only we had the time and the freedom and the space.

the internets

Something I've learned recently: I have been living in a cave when it comes to the internet.

Right now I feel like someone just opened a door and showed me where everyone has been playing. What am I talking about?

Chicklets. You thought that they were the original chewing gum, the type that is square and hard on the outside. But no. Chicklets are these little icons that are sometimes posted on blogs so you can link to them. I actually can't explain it to you, because I am still having trouble grasping what they are. Clearly I'm not alone (just follow this link.)

Facebook. I thought it was for college students to send each other dumb messages, but apparently it's the next new hot spot for networking. And who knew that networking was now on the internet? I thought I had to go to bars and talk to weird people I didn't know, but I can actually do it from the safety of my computer! ha!

Stumbleupon. On that link you may notice that there are chicklets for Stumbleupon. (See how I'm already using my new vocabulary?) Actually, I just downloaded a new version of Firefox and they suggested that I add on Stumbleupon. Not knowing what I was adding, I pressed "Yes" and now I am stumbling all across the internet. It is awesome. Ever wanted to waste time online and not know where to start? Stumbleupon is for you! You install it on your browser, answer a few questions about what sort of sites you like and voila! Clearly whatever answers I gave told them that I am one wacky girl (which I don't dispute), because it sends me to sites like this and this. But that's cool. I'd rather see photos of hotels made out of sewage pipes than someone's math calculations.

Lastly, though I actually discovered it first, is Flickr. I love Flickr. I've been using it since around the time that I started this blog. It's a site where you can upload and share your photos. You can keep certain pictures private, but others can be made public so other people can see them. I find that it's a fantastic resource for me as a designer. Right now I'm working on a play about homelessness and it's so easy to find thousands of very detailed pictures of exactly that. And then you can join groups-- for example I am a member of a Flickr group that is knitting shawls from a lace book that I own. So I can see what other people's projects are like, or if someone has made the same one that I'm making. It's very cool.

Anyway, I have to go work on my design.

Tell me what secrets you know about the internet! I feel like I need to catch up!

a holiday weekend!

Look who is home!!
Don't you think he looks relaxed? He's already gotten a hair cut since this photo was taken; no looking overgrown for the first day of class.

This weekend will be a busy one. Not only because Christopher and I want to spend tons of time together, but also because our apartment is smack dab in the middle of a huge festival, probably the biggest parade you've never heard of: The West Indian-American Day Parade. The Wikipedia link says that 3.5 million people come, which is about 3 times what I've heard. But still, 1 million people is a lot! And they'll literally be on our doorstep. Not only that, but the festivities have already begun. This morning was the Junior Carnival, a parade of children. And tonight is a contest of steel drum bands, right down the street. Sunday night, or really Monday morning, is J'Ouvert. This is a street festival/parade that starts at the library at 2am and lasts until about 7:30am. Yes, it's in the middle of the night. (I guess I know where I'll be if I can't sleep!)

In any case, Monday's parade will be major, with bands and crowds and vendors. The food is supposed to be fantastic, mostly homemade by local groups. Just this afternoon I saw this man. I assume he was prepping food for Monday.

retreating

As many of you know, Christopher is spending this month at a writers' retreat in northern Vermont. I am spending the same amount of time here, in Brooklyn.

He has been up there a week, and though we have spoken on the phone every day I have to confess that I'm not 100% sure what it's like up there. My impression is that it's very remote, but that there is a coffee shop in town (which is very important) and that the general feel of the place is a little new age-spiritual. His writing room looks out over a river. He is getting a lot of work done, which really is more important than anything.

Finding the space to do his writing is key. It is so easy to get distracted here: the apartment needs work, I need attention, Dinah demands petting. Nevermind the laundry or the dishes or whatever else one can find to do instead of being creative. That said, it was a difficult parting when we each got on our separate buses and went in opposite directions. We haven't been apart for so long since we've met. The last time we were apart was last June, when he went to Alaska and I was putting my apartment on the market. It was extremely stressful.

This time is different. I am designing a simple set for some very friendly folks and I find am finding the quietness at home calming. I have to remind myself that this is ok, that we don't have to be in the same room with each other at all times in order to love each other. We can enjoy our time apart and not feel guilty for that. It doesn't mean that we love each other any less, or that we will resent each other when we are back together. This is only for now and it's ok. At the same time, I need to make this solitude productive. When I get home, all I want to do is hang out with the cat, knit and veg. I am letting myself do this for now, until my play opens. And after that I will make myself draw after dinner, because that is the point of my retreat. There is no point in retreating if one has no discipline.

a cog in the machine

New York is a machine, on many levels. We all follow rules and expect certain things, from either the city itself or from our fellow New Yorkers. It may seem chaotic to those who haven't lived here, but we have very clear systems here, almost an etiquitte.

For example, when we ride the subway we (usually) step aside to let people get on and off. We move our cars so the street can be cleaned. We have complicated relationships with grocery shopping and schlepping that no one else can comprehend. (Dare I even broach that subject?) The way the city works keeps things moving. In exchange for our city manners, we expect certain things in return. From inside our ways and rules keep the busy city dependable and systematic.

The problem is, sometimes those systems break down. Like, the electricity goes out all over the city. Or a steam pipe explodes. Or maybe the public transportation employees go on strike. And then we, resourceful New Yorkers that we are, try our best to find a new system. We adapt.

Today was one such day. Our disaster? A thunderstorm.

This wasn't just a little lightning, a little thunder. No. This storm was a battle overhead, tearing down trees and ripping off roofs. Even Dinah was disturbed and curled herself next to my head. By the time I got up, at about 7am, the rain had stopped, but almost 3 inches had fallen in the prior hour and a half, and the subways were flooded.

I left the house at about 7:45, heading to Franklin Avenue subway. A crowd was gathered outside the station on their cell phones. Inside, another crowd listened to an MTA employee about subway delays. The 2, 3, 4 and 5 trains weren't running to Manhattan. I bumped into my neighbor, who suggested that we take the S to the A. We waited for the S for a while before he said he was going to take a cab.

I gave up and decided to walk to the Q, joining hundreds of other people on foot. Each station I passed was the same situation: groups of people looking confused, talking on their cell phones. The Q was also down. Rumor was that the D was running from Atlantic/Pacific, so with no other options, I walked down Flatbush to that station.

For those of you who don't know the geography of Brooklyn, the distance from Franklin Ave to Atlantic is about a mile and a half. It's downhill and really not so bad, except that today it was sort of like walking through a jungle. Very humid and, even at 8am, about 85 degrees. In any case, it wasn't much fun and I was tempted to pop into various stores along the way to cool off. Sweat was rolling off of my face and I could tell that my t-shirt was soaked where my backpack rested on my back. None of that really mattered anymore; I concentrated on the cold ice coffee that I would find for myself when I got to my destination.

Here is what I encountered at Atlantic Ave: Confusion, more heat, tighter crowds. The good thing was that the trains were indeed running there, and after a short wait I managed to pack myself into a D. Three stops later I was at my destination. The time? 9:30am.

one more day

We are heading south tomorrow, first to my mother's art opening in Portland, Maine and then to Cambridge, Mass. We'll visit with my cousin and spend the night in Cambridge before Christopher heads off to his residency in northern Vermont and I return to Brooklyn.

I've been meaning to blog more about our vacation, but the DSL connection up here is very slow and the photos take ages to upload. Here's a rundown. Maybe I'll add some photos when I'm back in New York.

It's hot, but not as hot as New York.

Christopher is doing lots of reading and a little writing. I've been swimming nearly every day with my mom. One day a huge lab thought I was a stick and jumped in after me. I shoved it back to shore but then it shook itself off all over my clothing and towel. My father has installed a washing machine. He is currenly sitting in front of it in a chair watching it work and exclaiming over it. Just now he called my mother in to see what it's doing. (The machine has been moody, so it's not without reason that he would want to know whether it was working or not.)I have been doing a bit of knitting, both working on Christopher's sweater and finishing up some odds and ends of old projects.

One day I had to help my father shingle the side of the screen porch. It was really hot and I was dismissed as I kept wandering off. (I can't say it was all my fault; my father also kept wandering off and rather than hang around I left too.)We visited with a bunch of Christopher's family members who live nearby. I have no photos of it but it was fun and Christopher's cousin's 2-year old son is completely adorable and friendly.

Tonight we are going to celebrate Christopher's birthday, since it is next week and he'll be in Vermont. I am making a chocolate bundt cake, which I have made before. The last time I made it I wasn't so happy with how it turned out, so I'm hoping this time will be more successful. We are also having lobster and mojitos.Two people have contacted me in the past week about designing sets for them. One is still pending; the other is a very last minute design for a New York Fringe Festival play. Interestingly, the director from the Fringe Festival show was impressed with the set from the last show I designed, which looked great in the end but which was also quite a struggle to pull off. I guess all that pain it was worth it!

We are about to have a thunderstorm.