dual personalities

Daughter #1 here. Well, we’ve made it to Friday. This week has felt both arduous and easy. Daughter #2 arrived safely yesterday afternoon. And I am thankful her flight was not delayed (though it landed 30 minutes late despite the board proclaiming the flight on time).

It could have easily gone the other way as we’ve had quite the weather week here in Missouri! Tuesday night, we were alarmed to hear the tornado sirens around 5p despite what appeared to a regular grey sky. I guess these days they run the alarms to encourage people to seek shelter. Back in my day, the sirens meant imminent danger! Regardless, we turned on the local news to catch breathless weather people tracking storms across the vast viewing area. A line of dangerous storms was heading our direction–and did eventually make it our way. It got dark and ominous for about 45 seconds. And it rained buckets.

And Wednesday night, I was awakened at 3a to thunder and lightning and more buckets of rain. It continued for an hour. I was very worried about poor car parked outside. In my apartment and at work, I park in a garage, but here in Kirkwood, my car is left on the driveway. Do I need to check my privilege with that concern? Probably.

I had no idea that hours before a tornado had actually touched down and wreaked havoc in Jefferson City! Mere blocks from my office!

The above shows the Capitol (surrounded by scaffolding and temperature controlling wrap giving it a real space station effect) and a street full of mansions that have seen better days (the entire street is boarded up homes). Apparently, they are all owned by one crazy old lady who refuses to sell them. Maybe now they can get fixed up?

The damage is pretty extensive–but I am thankful there were minimal injuries and no deaths.

Next week, I am venturing to Joplin for work–you’ll recall that eight years ago Wednesday, the town was devastated by an EF5 tornado that killed 158 people, flattened entire neighborhoods, and caused billions of dollars of damage. We are doing an event at the Joplin Public library that has been rebuilt after being destroyed.

Weather is wild. I find it fascinating. And enjoy it best from inside and at a reasonable distance.

Greetings from daughter #2, who scheduled this post ahead of her flight home today! Very excited to join the recovery team. Meanwhile, a few thoughts…

The other day, a friend sent me this list of spring trends posted at Cup of Jo. We couldn’t help but laugh: tie-dye? BUCKET HATS? The list is, in full, absurd. I find myself scratching my head in particular about beaded bags, which I have seen all over the fashion internet. They look like something I would have proudly crafted around age 11.

The post made me wonder whether a) Cup of Jo was wildly off the mark or b) these were actual trends and I’m just getting old and less hip.

Living in a college town has made me acutely aware of just how old 29 is, particularly when it comes to sartorial choices. DN and I frequently exclaim things like, “When did platform sneakers become a thing?” “In what world do basketball jerseys constitute party attire?” and “No one should be wearing shorts that short.” We are old (disapproving) fogeys, I guess.

Plus, I haven’t forgotten that last summer my mother said to me, “You know, it might be time to retire your daisy dukes.” Here’s how I heard that:

And in that vein, I have developed my approaching-30 wardrobe, which consists of high waistlines (see also: “mom jeans”) and skirts that are actually knee-length. I recently bemoaned to my mother how difficult it is to find slips these days. Is there anything that says “aging gracefully” more than worrying about appropriate, old-fashioned undergarments? No.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to shop for a ruched swimsuit a full wardrobe of J. Jill linen.

Daughter #1 here. I can report that our dear Dual Personality is doing quite well. She is in good spirits, less pain than anticipated, and thoroughly engrossed in Season 1 of the OC, which is honestly the best medicine. As for me, in between responding to calls of Marge! Hey Marge!, I’ve been preparing for this summer’s hottest social event, the 200th Birthday of Herman Melville, by reading Moby Dick. Light reading for difficult times, I know.

“There you stand, lost in the infinite series of the sea, with nothing ruffled but the waves. The tranced ship indolently rolls; the drowsy trade winds blow; everything resolves you into langour.”

As happens when you’re reading something really good and that really sucks you in, my mind is always kind of lingering in that infinite sea. This is to say, I’ve got whaling on the brain.

The other activity occupying my time is stitching. I’m currently working on this classic Prairie Schooler sampler. I am stuck on the large ship and can’t wait to finish so I can move on to something fun like the mermaid or the WHALE.

Of course, in the stitching world, one is always thinking about what to stitch next.  So, naturally, I’ve been looking at other samplers with whales in them. See some examples below:

Riley Harbor

Oh Whale!

Nantucket Sewing Kit

Old Nantucket

There are lots to choose from–but mostly I’m glad to be a landlubber!

“For as the secrets of the currents in the seas have never yet been divulged, even to the most erudite research; so the hidden ways of the Sperm Whale when beneath the surface remain, in great part, unaccountable to his pursuers; and from time to time have originated the most curious and contradictory speculations regarding them, especially concerning the mystic modes whereby, after sounding to a great depth, he transports himself with such vast swiftness to the most widely distant points.”

You will recall that last Saturday I reorganized the pantry which duly reclaimed its status as a functional walk-in closet. I even removed the shelves and cleaned underneath!

On a roll, I decided to go to the car wash. I’ve done it a million times and never had a problem. This time, however, as I sat watching the mighty sprayers rinse the bugs off the car, I noticed a slight mist in the air. That’s odd, thought I, and checked the vents. Only when I got home did I discover that one of the back windows was open! Quelle disaster! Suffice it to say that I spent the rest of the day attempting to dry out the back seat. At least it wasn’t as bad as this:

Now that’s a car wash disaster!

But it did amount to senior moment #1.

Not to be deterred from my sense of achievement, I mowed the lawn without mishap, albeit in the most haphazard way imaginable, and then I took a walk. Imagine my surprise when a yahoo in a red pickup truck drove by and shouted “Hi, grandma!” at me. At me? Surely there must be some mistake! I looked around for a doddering old lady but I was alone. He meant me! That was senior moment #2.

I don’t mind getting older. I don’t even mind yahoos in trucks. At least he was friendly. I’ve got a lot to be grateful for — my convalescing DP for starters — and plenty to laugh about. And if I’m officially an old lady, well, so be it!

“Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, the last of life, for which the first was made. Our times are in his hand who saith, ‘A whole I planned, youth shows but half; Trust God: See all, nor be afraid!”
― Robert Browning

Hello from daughter #2! I am happy to report that our dear mother is home from the hospital, feeling relatively comfortable. Daughter #1 will be with her all week and is doing a great job taking care of her! A few thoughts from me on spring…

Normally, April is one of my favorite months of the year: it is my birthday month, as well as my mother’s, which means there is always plenty of fêting and fun. And when April comes, it feels like we survived the winter and made it to spring. But every year, I remember that April also brings the hectic end-of-semester stress, when there is much to do and no end in sight. Inevitably, when wishing for spring days in the 70s, we are met with rain and bursts of heat. This year, of course, April also brought a serious diagnosis and uncertainty.

So now, I am embracing the month of May. I think it might be underrated! I am not so anxious to get to summer when right now, the sun shines hard and there is nary a mosquito in sight. (OK, I saw ONE mosquito yesterday, but I am in denial about it.) Things slow down on a college campus in May, and there’s a great feeling of wrapping up projects.

May also brings peony and rhubarb season.

I truly cannot get enough of these! From my favorite suburban peony bush care of DN’s parents.

I am not an expert food photographer, but strawberry rhubarb pie is my absolute favorite. And I think this lattice crust is pretty impressive!

Yes, May also requires that I grade a slew of final papers. But I think I can get through that if I have pie on hand, right?

Early in May, the oaks, hickories, maples, and other trees, just putting out amidst the pine woods around the pond, imparted a brightness like sunshine to the landscape, especially in cloudy days, as if the sun were breaking through mists and shining faintly on the hill-sides here and there. On the third or fourth of May I saw a loon in the pond, and during the first week of the month I heard the whippoorwill, the brown-thrasher, the veery, the wood-pewee, the chewink, and other birds. . . .And so the seasons went rolling on into summer, as one rambles into higher and higher grass.

-Henry David Thoreau, Walden

It’s a beautiful, sunny Saturday and I’m relieved to say that my DP’s surgery went swimmingly. She is convalescing in the hospital. Praise be to God!

I’ve been alone all week while the DH is off in London struggling with his mathematical treatises at the National Archives. I’m using the quiet time to meet a looming writing deadline and to deep clean parts of the house, including the pantry closet:

As you can see, it needs some help! I wish I had an after picture to show you, but I just got started last night, so it’s still a shambles. Wish me luck.

In less disruptive decorating news, I framed a poster from my brother’s 1970s band and put it up in our mudroom:

Here’s a close-up.

The poster wears its history pretty well, wrinkles and all (I wish I could say the same). It traveled with me from dorm room to dorm room throughout college, and has somehow survived every move since then. I found it in a pile of papers (where else?) and finally did right by it. I think it looks just great, don’t you?

Here is the Prize Your Liberty String Band in person: Clawhammer Tom on the left and the Ozark Whippoorwill, our brother, on the right.

Long ago and far away.

Well, I’d better get to work on that closet. It’s going to be a dusty, spider-filled job and I need to start before my courage evaporates.

The title of today’s post comes from the National’s sad new song (the video, which stars Alicia Vikander, is part of an arty short film). Give it a listen.