Holy Field Trips and Getting My Hook On

"Our priest sent us ice skating two days before our wedding, and it was amazing to say we were on a holy field trip of sorts and no amount of relatives were going to argue with that. Having time for just us to do whatever was really good when there was so much other stuff going on. So I hope you guys felt a little bit of that freedom, even if it was at Home Depot!"- -my friend, Genevieve

Friends have afforded us some great dates during these past weeks. We have seen the new Diane Keaton film, the new Drew Barrymore film, discovered an adorable candy store that stocks Scandinavian licorice reminiscent of Geoff's Denmark year, and had a very satisfying return-extravaganza at Home Depot and Ikea. I love Genevieve's idea of a "holy field trip." It does feel like that, being sent out on a kind of mission where the goal is to allow the activity to diffuse some of the thick and tangled stuff inside you. I like picturing her and her husband out on the ice, out from the strictures of family-expectation and just skating together hand in hand. Anne Lamott writes about taking her son bowling after a friend's funeral, out there flinging heavy balls and wearing borrowed shoes.

We have so enjoyed these gifts of freedom. Driving the bends of McCallum St. back into Chestnut hill laughing at the SNL sketch about the Target cashier. Asking Geoff to pick up a melon salad for me thinking (for the hundredth time) I was starting active labor. Scoring two beautiful chairs from AS IS Ikea. On these dates, we get to look at each other and wonder who feels worse for whom--Geoff weathering beautifully the on-callness of all of his classes and meetings trying to provide for the monthly bills while there are so many trips to the food co-op that begin to add up. He is up with the 5am requests for cereal. And then he passes out at 8pm reading stories to Clara. I can see how life is stretching him. When taken out of the context of the home, we can revisit briefly our dating days and our adolescent courtship.

As for my crochet process, I was slowed down by two things. Manny seems to have lost his beautiful new scarf at school-- and in a futility spiral today, I declared, "I will not continue to make things that you boys disregard!" Manny says that the scarf is "somewhere around his cubby." The other thing is that Claresie unwound my yarn ball for Benici's scarf. Not as fun to crochet with a big tangle to contend with. It has been good to get back to the tactility of needlework. I am challenging myself to see if I can finish these scarves before El Numera Quatra decides to make an appearance.