For the first time since living in South Boston, we didn’t head out to watch the parade. Instead, I was being that mom at the pediatrician’s office. We got a contagious illness report from daycare this week (the dreaded conjunctivitis is going around), so when Grace started rubbing her eyes, I started becoming a nutcase. A word of advice: Don’t Google “pink eye” at three in the morning.
The nurse I spoke with this morning encouraged us to come in today, just in case. By the time 2 o’clock rolled around, I started to wonder if it was more likely Grace had accidentally squirted yogurt into her own eye, or that part of her bagel got in there or something. Needless to say: no conjunctivitis. I love our pediatrician, though (and the fact that they’ll see us on Sundays). We had no trouble getting out of Southie, but heading back in during the parade proved to be a bit more challenging.
One of the (presumably many) upsides to not being infected and being out and about? We had a little impromptu visit with my sister and brother-in-law during which Grace tried to eat a crayon and I learned that Selection Saturday is actually Selection Sunday. And I wonder why people don’t invite me to join their March Madness pools.
Oh but before I say anything else, sorry for talking about pink eye. I promise we did non-gross things this weekend too. Like the things pictured below.
The Weekend According to Instagram 32
First things first: The snow is melting… AND THINGS ARE GROWING. I spotted these little sprouts alongside our driveway on Sunday afternoon and literally shrieked in delight. I immediately emailed a photo to my husband and our neighbors. And I’m now taking bets on who thinks I’m crazier, our neighbors or Grace’s pediatrician. This weekend was great for my personal brand. Whatever that means.
Our neighborhood is ready for St. Patrick’s Day. I don’t want to live any where else. Most of the time.
A little weekend doodling. Watercolor + pen + birds.
I am obsessed with the artwork on these seed packets from the Hudson Valley Seed Library. I am kicking myself for not buying their calendar at the Flower Show.
Aaaand another photo from this year’s Boston Flower and Garden Show. Nick and I always talk about living in a tiny house one day, and I think I found the one this weekend. Technically, I think this is more of a garden shed, but I am pretty sure there’s room for Grace and Clark’s imaginary bunkbeds. And if I take after my maternal grandfather at all (which I hope I do), I’m only going to get shorter so…. I think it will work.
After the Flower Show, we ducked out of the rain and grabbed tacos across the street at Rosa Mexicana. Aren’t my lunch dates adorable?
I started Saturday morning with a big cup of organic peppermint amour and some to do list-ing. Of the 900 things on the list for the weekend, I think I accomplished 3. One of those things was “make a to do list.” Can’t win ’em all.
A peek at my art journal (you’ll find more pages here and here).
Did anyone else read Richard Scarry books as a kid? They were a family favorite of ours. I ordered a copy of Richard Scarry’s Best Word Book Ever for Grace and seriously… it’s the best word book ever. Not surprisingly, her favorite page is the one where the bear gets dressed. She is all about her shoes these days.
I love living in South Boston and being able to walk over to Broadway and catch the best St. Patrick’s Day parade there is. Tina and Mal joined us just before the parade started for an Irish flag of cider, a few Clark snuggles, and a lots of laughs. We caught some of the highlights of the parade, including the Shriners in their tiny trucks, the Cycling Murrays, several WWII vehicles, lots of bagpipes and a giant banana on a bike pulling a Boston Terrier in a laundry basket (who knows).
A few scenes from the South Boston St. Patrick’s Day Parade:
I posted a few more photos (including the banana) on Instagram if you’d like to see more. It’s a good day to live in Southie. Then again, every day is a good day to live in Southie.
Our little (French) leprechaun wants to wish you a very happy St. Patrick’s Day.
…but he’s too busy napping. So please allow me to impart this Irish blessing while he snores the day away.
May God give you
For every storm, a rainbow,
For every tear, a smile,
For every care, a promise,
And a blessing in each trial.
For every problem life sends,
A faithful friend to share,
For every sigh, a sweet song,
And an answer for each prayer.
Happy Saint Patrick’s Day to you. We’re off to the parade with our pals (and everyone else who has flooded into our neighborhood wearing Irish knits and all their green)!
[tweetmeme source=”elizabethev” only_single=false]I love sunny days in March, when the temperature reaches 70. I love running for a good cause, up and over the hills of South Boston. I love wearing green. And I love my neighborhood. I could do without it being invaded by a bunch of hot messes, but I suppose it’s only one day a year. And by the time I get home from work, all of the cigabutts, shamrock headbands and beer cans will have been hauled away. If one day of chaos is the price we pay (welp, in addition to a mortgage) to live in Southie… it’s well worth it.
I must be getting old, but I could barely contain my second-hand embarrassment walking down Broadway after the morning’s 5k. Green spandex is a privilege, not a right. Throwing up into a cup at 11:30 AM is never a good look. And no, you cannot feed my dog a handful of Cheetos (as much as he probably would have loved that).
It’s not all bad, though. I love seeing families setting their chairs out early in the morning to get the best view. I love the bagpipes. I bet whoever invented those was in need of a good cry. Amazing Grace always crushes my soul. Despite being truly odd, I love the parade itself. I wish certain groups weren’t banned from marching, especially when the parade is already full of grown men wearing skirts, playing flutes. To quote Alanis, “It’s a little too ironic, don’t you think?” But unlike rain on your wedding day, it actually is ironic. People are people. There’s no reason to exclude.
After the South Boston Boys and Girls Club 5k and walking up to the east side to visit with my sister, her fiance (yayayayayayayay!) and their friends for a bit, I was ready to head home. And happy I didn’t have to go far. And grateful to share the neighborhood for just one day.
[tweetmeme source=”elizabethev” only_single=false]On our first walk of the day (which was delayed due to the fact that dogs don’t understand daylight savings time any better than humans), Clark and I spotted the first crocuses to bloom in our neighborhood. With temperatures landing just shy of 70 this past week, I knew we were bound to see flowers soon.
Any day now the daffodils will be up, too– just in time for our neighborhood to be invaded by parade-goers.
That little burst of color inspired me to get some early spring cleaning done, beginning with the fridge, followed by various handbags, my car, and who knows what else I might get into today. After emptying and cleaning the refrigerator, it was clear I needed to hit the market. One cannot live on wine, apple juice and yogurt alone. One needs chocolate. And greens.
Insider tip: the florist at the Stop & Shop at the South Bay Center (where I can always count on nearly getting hit by a car, nearly hitting someone else with my car, or watching my car get by a shopping cart) is a great source for simple, elegant and inexpensive arrangements. There is always a small section (look past the carnations, baby’s breath and dyed mums) of bouquets dressed with interesting greens, perfect for dropping directly into a vase.
After putting away the groceries, I thought about learning how to clean the oven, but I decided to bake something in it instead.
The best part is the top o’ the muffin. Obviously.
I’m cracking this baby open before tackling my next spring cleaning projects. I probably shouldn’t admit this, but even after living in our condo for three years, there are things I am not really sure how to clean. Like the inside of the washing machine. Or those air conditioning vent things.
By the time spring actually arrives, I’ll be ahead of the game. For once.