Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Near and far

I can now say I have traveled above the Arctic Circle. Sadly, I cannot yet say I have actually set foot there. Last weekend, The Arctic Sounder crew flew to Barrow to get the lay of the land, meet some folks, etc. But the runway was snowed in and equipment was broken, so we flew as far as Pruhdoe Bay and turned around. Very disappointing. On the up-side, it bought me an extra day at home, which I squandered with vigor - painting all morning, running seven miles (huge victory since I haven't run much lately) and then joining Mike, Andrew and Judy to almost erect the first rafters of the high tunnel.
That night, we bid a sad adeiu to Judy and Oskar. It was wonderful having them here, and I hope things work out the way they look like they might and she'll be popping back through again soon. Tomorrow would work fine for me. It's so interesting that what used to be unbearably uncomfortable (having people stay with us) has become so natural, even preferred. It just seems to make sense - the whole idea of working together like that, sharing meals together, etc. I should have come of age in the 60s. I would have loved it.
Tonight, the kids came home after four days at Matt's. It seems like it must be more time than that. It's interesting how much more I miss them these days when they are gone. Maybe it's because they have gotten older, more interesting, less demanding. Or maybe it's just because I've grown up a bit and realized that raising my kids is where I belong, most of the time, anyway. At any rate, having them back was such a joy tonight. I got the fire roaring, made spaghetti and meatballs with Thea's assistance, of course, and did baths. Liam worked his way through his first try at twinkle twinkle on the fiddle, and when Thea got out, she danced to Celtic music in nothing but a hoodie towel.
Afterward, Liam asked me if he was part Irish. I think so, I said, a little. Well, he said, it's just that when I listen to Irish music, it's like I've heard it before. Interesting.

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