Tag Archives: family

Today: ‘Twas the night after Christmas.

26 December 2011

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…when all through the condo, not a creature was stirring.  Not even Rajon Rondo.  Because he doesn’t live here.  Never bothers to visit (rude).

Nick, Clark and I enjoyed an absolutely lovely Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, traveling a bit north and a bit south to see our families.  I even got a little snow on the way!  With all the good food, great gifts, and fabulous company, the weekend flew by.  I’m doing my best to extend the holiday a bit longer by donning my gnarly Santa socks and sipping a bit of hot cocoa by the tree.

I hope you’re all having a really happy and healthy holiday season.

Also On Tap for Today:

  • Wedding dress shopping with my sister and sister-in-law :)
  • Amazing photos from The Natural World gallery
  • Playing with Clark and all his new toys

How are you spending this last week of 2011?

Today: Times, they are a-changin’.

20 December 2011

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For the first time since 1982, I will not be waking up at my parents’ house on Christmas morning.  I will not be making a holy racket at 5:45 AM in an attempt to wake my three siblings a bit early.  I won’t be sitting on the top step waiting while my dad checks “to see if Santa came.”  I think this means I’ve become a grown-up.  It only took me (nearly) 30 years.

In the past, Nick and I have spent the holidays apart, with our own families.  More often than not, Clark rolled with me.  A girl needs her bat-eared sidekick.  This year, though, the three of us are sticking together for a magical, whirlwind Christmas tour.  We will go north to spend Christmas Eve with Nick’s family, stay at our home, sweet condo Christmas Eve night, go to Mass on Christmas morning at our parish in the Back Bay, and then head south to spend Christmas day with my family.

It feels rather odd to be breaking with tradition, but at the same time, it’s exciting to start creating my own traditions.  With my own cute little family.  I fully intend to make a video as I check to see if Santa came (more specifically: did I leave paper, tape and scissors strewn about the living room?), and then release Clark from his crate to tear open a giant stack of (mostly edible) presents.  I am contemplating what I will make for Christmas breakfast, but it seems only appropriate to take a cue from Buddy the Elf and break out the maple syrup.  Lots of maple syrup.

I have already spent hours creating the perfect Christmas music mixes for the car rides.  I have baking supplies ready to go, and more gift tags than I know what to do with (which is why I declined my mom’s offer of approximately 8,700 of them at our dinner on Sunday).  Plus, I have been wrapping like the bad ass white wrapper I am.

Though I tend to be a bit resistant to change, my philosophy for Christmas 2011 is a resounding yes, we can make this holiday– complete with traditions old and new– totally awesome.

Also On Tap for Today:

What is your favorite holiday tradition?

Today: Late to my own funeral.

29 November 2011

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You know the expression late to your own funeral?  It was invented for people like me, having weeks like this.

The expression driving at your own funeral  (if that were an actual expression, please play along) seems to have been invented for my grandfather.  Though he died a few days before my sophomore year at BC started, he feels very alive to me this time of year.  He was sort of the embodiment of the Christmas spirit, and all things good and kind.  He had a great laugh.  And very smiley eyes.  Anyway, back to his funeral.  When it was time for our family to make our way from the funeral parlor to the church, the funeral director called out the order of cars, one by one.

At some point, he started calling out my grandfather’s name, indicating it was his turn to pull his car around.  His voice grew louder and more annoyed, as (quite naturally) my grandfather didn’t respond.  Finally, someone sort of side-whispered to him that my grandfather wouldn’t be driving today.  It was brilliant.  Oh, and this!  The day before, at my grandfather’s wake, a man was cooking in the nude, windows wide open, in the building adjacent to the funeral home.  I know dying isn’t funny, but man.  Those little moments really helped.  Side note: if you haven’t seen “Death at a Funeral” (the British version, not the Chris Rock monstrosity), you should.

[Photo source]

Anyway, back to being perpetually late.  I had a teacher in high school who would say, “Early is on time.  On time is late.  And late is unacceptable.”  I find myself repeating these words rather often, as I rush to a meeting.  Or as I flip off a pedestrian idling in the crosswalk.  Just kidding.  Or am I?  I pride myself on being punctual, but for some reason lately… it just isn’t happening.

On Monday, my alarm (set to silent, highly ineffective) noiselessly “rang” for over an hour.  I woke up at 6:45 feeling especially rested.  Mostly because I had overslept.  This morning, despite having a soccer game that went past 11 last night, I woke before my alarm.  And then I wasted 40 minutes allowing my dog to smell every single leaf in South Boston.  Tack on an additional 20 minutes of hair straightening and 30 minutes trying on 42 outfits and you’ve got a whopping 92 minutes down the drain.  Needless to say, I was tardy for the party normal life this morning.

[Image source]

Late may be unacceptable, but this week, “I’ll be there eventually” is probably more appropriate.  It’s all about managing expectations.

Also On Tap for Today:

  • Attempt to fashion an Advent wreath from 4 candle sticks and some bamboo foraged from our courtyard
  • Sweet and savory homemade gifts :)
  • Arriving to boxing on time (fingers crossed)

Do you tend to be tardy?  Or are you always on time?

Today: The coolest day to be born.

7 October 2011

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October 7th is when all the cool people are born:

  • Archbishop Desmond Tutu
  • Yo-Yo Ma
  • Niels Bohr
  • Toni Braxton
  • James Brown
  • John Mellencamp (he dropped the “Cougar,” right?)
  • Simon Cowell
  • Vladimir Putin… if he counts as cool
  • Joy Behar
My sister turns 27 today, and my Beyonce fiance turns 29 (I like when he catches up to me and we’re the same age, until a few months later when I am old and grouchy again).  Happy Birthday, Andrea and Nick!  With your powers combined, you have 56 years of experience being the coolest people ever.  You’ll both be proud to know I didn’t use a calculator for that math.  Unless I did it wrong, in which case… neither of you will be surprised.
Also On Tap for Today:
  • Prepping for 18 miles :) (that’s a fake smile, for the record)
  • Watching the banner ceremony, like, 1,000 more times
  • Unpacking my summer clothes for this weekend’s heatwave
Do you share a birthday with any notable people?

Today: Napping and comfort food.

29 September 2011

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Days like today were made for napping.

Clark and his two besties have the right idea.

Unfortunately, days like today are also made for 12 and a half hours spent at the office and in meetings, where napping is generally frowned upon.   Fortunately, eating good comfort food is nearly always acceptable.  I’ll likely spend much of today day-dreaming about warm, flaky, gooey food.

Get out of here, pumpkin.

This weekend we celebrated my lovely mother’s birthday a few days early with a nice family dinner at home.  My brother and sister-in-law brought oysters and grilled steaks with an herb gremolata straight from my dad’s garden (…the herbs, that is.  I think the oysters came from the ocean, and the steaks from, like, a cow).  My sister made an incredible corn and tomato salad, the perfect way to wind down the summer.

I hear they're delicious. I'll stick to the lemons, though.

My younger brother and I were responsible for appetizers and desserts.  He was especially helpful when I had no where to toss an aggressively burning match, after lighting a few candles on the cheesecake sampler.  A sensible person would have simply blown it out, instead of panicking and possibly blacking out.  It’s only a match, lady.

I can't take pictures like this in the city.

Our little appetizer was much less dramatic.  I broke out my Fillo Factory organic pastry shells (swag from The Healthy Living Summit) and with just the teeniest bit of creativity, came up with the perfect comfort food: warm, bite-sized, creamy, with a bit of kick.

The shells come pre-baked, so it was as easy as choosing a filling, and popping them in the oven at 350 degrees for a few minutes to heat through.  I topped a dollop of raspberry habanero sauce with a tiny wedge of brie and a sprinkle of freshly cracked pepper.  The only thing better than delicious comfort food, is easy and delicious comfort food.  Especially when you get to share it with the people you love the most.

A very happy birthday (plus 2 days) to my mom!

Also On Tap for Today:

  • Breaking out my submarine yellow Wellies :)
  • Looking forward to scoping out some fall foliage this weekend
  • Time to start making plans for marathon weekend!

What’s your favorite comfort food?

Today: Where’s Andi?

11 September 2011

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One of our favorite ways to harass Clark games to play with the Frenchie is Where’s Andi?  He loves my sister and is always trying to sneak into her handbags.  I don’t think he necessarily knows that her nickname is Andi, but he does know– after I’ve yelled “Where’s Andi?!” for the sixth time, that he should be looking for someone.

Clark found her this weekend, in her new apartment, exactly where she belongs.

Hey, guys. I found her.

Doesn’t he look happy?  And like the perfect candidate for braces?

I played my own version of Where’s Andi the next morning, when I peeled myself out of bed bright and early for a long run.  I logged a few miles in my neighborhood before finding my sister in front of her apartment.  She was kind enough to join me for 6 or so miles, giving me just enough motivation to not, say, take a nap on a park bench along the Charles and claim I had actually run.

My sister planned the perfect route for us spanning the distance between the Museum of Science and the BU bridge.  After reaching her apartment, I managed to sneak in a few more miles for a grand total of thirteen.  Unlucky number, maybe?  But I couldn’t be luckier to have a sister, running pal, and dog entertainer like Andi.

Also On Tap for Today:

  • Whipping up some quinoa salad for the week
  • I love Chad Ochocinco, I can’t help it
  • Soaking up this gorgeous weather!
What’s your favorite hiding place?  

Today: Philadelphia or bust.

18 August 2011

3 Comments

Hopefully, it’s Philadelphia.  Who likes a bust?

Oopsies, I broke it.

[Photo source]

The first and last time I was in Philadelphia was 1999.  My parents and I drove down for my college interviews at St. Joseph’s and Villanova.  During the same trip, we hit up Fairfield, Fordham and Loyola Maryland.  What can I say?  We love the Jesuits.  Anyway,  we stayed in Center City and got up close and personal with the Liberty Bell.  Being one of four children, I thought it was kind of cool to have my parents all to myself.  I was shy and nervous and weird on those campus tours, but my mom and dad stuck by my side.  Even though they probably wanted to ditch me in the cafeteria and go cut loose with the other normals.

So here I am, twelve years later, still shy and nervous and weird (but with a college degree), heading back to the City of Brotherly Love.  I am so looking forward to attending the Healthy Living Summit, getting in a run or two, climbing the “Rocky steps” (leaving my boxing gloves at home, sadly), and spending time with friends old and new.  I’m so excited I could crack a historically significant artifact.

But I won’t.  Unless those chia cocktails get to me.  In which case, all bets are off.

Also On Tap for Today:

Did you tour a bunch of schools?  Or did you have it all figured out?

Today: Who are you? Who, who, who, who?

16 August 2011

6 Comments

This post is neither about CSI, nor owls.  It’s about genealogy.  Prepare to be bored amazed.

On Saturday night, as I tried to quell my pre-race jitters, I flipped through the channels on our hotel television to one of the few English-language programs (we watched an entire show of daredevil bloopers in Spanish, which was totally awesome).  Rosie O’Donnell was scrolling through microfiche (the bane of my college existence), hoping to find a link to her Irish ancestors on a show called Who Do You Think You Are?.

While Nick gave me a look that, if it were an NBC show, would be called Who Gave You The Remote?, I got completely sucked in.

Who was the mysterious woman in the photograph that hung in her childhood home?  Did her grandfather know he had a half-sister?  How did the person who hand-wrote those parish logs have such perfect penmanship?  Will she ever find her Irish roots?  (In case you were doing something less embarrassing on Saturday night, the answers are: her great-grandfather’s first wife who died after an oil lamp explosion, yes, I don’t know, and yes.)

I’ve been thinking a lot about my own family tree (not the Japanese maple by the pool, the imaginary one that we’re all attached to).  Having moved to the neighborhood where my paternal grandfather grew up, I often wonder about the places he went, who he hung out with, and what he would think about my taking boxing lessons in an old warehouse on Dorchester Ave.  I wonder what people’s parents were like, what they ate, and how they kept busy.  I wonder what it was like to come to America, long before Neil Diamond wrote a song about the process.

In a world where we’re so seemingly connected, I can’t help but want to know the people who aren’t on Facebook or stored in my digital camera.  I want to know my roots (and not the ones I dye).  So, I did what any gullible person watching Rosie’s family story unfold would do, and joined ancestry.com.  In a matter of minutes, I was looking at a hand-written census report from the 1920′s.  My maternal grandfather, according to the record, was 4 and 4/12 years at the time.  I bet he was so cute.  I doubt he understood fractions yet.  After digging a little deeper, I found a photo of his parents, including his mother who died when he was very young.

I felt like I was opening a time capsule, or was following a path of clues deeper and deeper into the past (if you’re looking for a new procrastination tool, this is it), or just plain old being creepy.  Before I knew it, I had navigated out of Boston to Nova Scotia, Northern Island, the Irish Free State, and Scotland.  Suddenly it was 1790.

I hit a bit of a digital dead end when approximately 9 million people shared the same name as one of my great-grandfathers, but never fear.  My dad’s father was a bit of an amateur genealogist, and kept detailed records of our family history.  I can’t wait to get my hands on his old blue binder and start plugging in names and dates, as the adventure continues.

In the meantime, I am left to ponder… If my great-grandfather was so tall, my parents and siblings, too… where the heck did I come from?  Maybe I should start wearing a top hat.

Also On Tap for Today:

How well do you know your family history?  Any good mysteries to solve?

Today: Make way for gooselings… goslings, whatever.

19 June 2011

1 Comment

 I was home visiting my parents a few weeks ago and saw these little guys hanging out in a neighbor’s yard.  I made an illegal u-turn (don’t tell) and creeped onto the property to take this photo.  Then I remembered how scary Canadian geese are (much scarier than Canadian humans), especially when they’re protecting miniature Canadian geese, and decided I should probably get back in my car.  And back to whatever I was supposed to be doing.

Anyway, my intended point was to say Happy Father’s Day.  I’m not really sure if that’s the dad goose or the mum goose, but I couldn’t help but think of my dad as I picked up a stick in case the big goose tried to peck me with its beak or something.  My dad has always done an incredible job of protecting us, leading the way, nudging us in the right direction, encouraging us to spread our wings, lifting us up when we’ve needed it, and celebrating our every flight.

I am so grateful for all that he has done, and continues to do for me and my siblings.  I love you, Dad!

Also On Tap for Today:

What’s the best advice your dad has given you?

Today: Some days you’re the bug.

4 May 2011

3 Comments

Some days you’re the bug, and some days you’re the windshield. Splat.

I probably should have warned you about this.

[Photo source]

Yesterday, I was running late, which seems to be the theme of the week, and was just about to make the bed and dash out the door, when our dog barfed all over our freshly laundered duvet cover.  Bugs are always going somewhere, are likely adverse to the odor of dogvom (aren’t we all?), they’re short and they eat weird stuff.  So.  Yesterday (and most days), I was the bug.  I broke not one, but two fingernails.  I paid $42.09 to gas up my tiny car.  I cried when I saw a homeless man’s shoelace break.  I got a paper cut from a Bed Bath & Beyond flier I was attempting to recycle.  I worked a 10 hour day and then had to host a 2 hour meeting. I was too lazy to run.  I had a stomach ache that could upend a cow.  I don’t even know what that means, but I am not going to delete it.

Yep, I was a big ol’ bug.

And then my sister reminded me (via gchat, from a law library not so far away) that I can control a bad day.  She suggested I listen to Mandy Moore’s “Candy.”  I didn’t, mostly because I try to maintain an atmosphere of professionalism.  I did, however, get her point.  With so much to be grateful for, it’s rather a waste to sit around moping (it’s okay to sit around mopping, though, that’s how floors get cleaned) about a few bumps in the proverbial road.

So today, even though I am wearing pantyhose (I’d like to schedule some face time with the person who decided these things were a good idea), I am going to check my attitude, swipe on some lip gloss, and pretend to be the windshield.  Except that hopefully I won’t unintentionally kill anyone/thing.

Also On Tap for Today:

Are you feeling like the bug or the windshield today?