We're Going to Europe!

It's such a feeling of relief when plane tickets have been purchased.  We decided that this year we'll celebrate our two-days-apart birthdays in Europe.  It's been over ten years since I've traveled across the Atlantic, this will be Rob's first trip, and I was itching to go (due in no small part to my sister-in-law, Schelly's recent trip to Germany and Austria, and the last month I've spent with my nose in John Irving books, many of which take place in Vienna).  So we're taking off for Dublin, the cheapest entrance from the US, spending a little time in Ireland and other spots in the UK, then moving over to the mainland where we'll enjoy the rest of our trip in Paris, Salzburg, Vienna, and Prague.  I'm excited to say the least.  What's happening with Olive, you ask?  She's coming with us, of course!  Our week without her in California was trying for me, so I'm not about to do it again, doubling the time away and taking away the convenience of a domestic phone call.  She probably won't remember much of the trip except through photographs, but I'm sure she'll enjoy herself while she's there.  I'm just hoping to not experience a similar flight scenario as my friend, Sam.

Scenes from the Summer

Way back in June our family took a little trip down Carolina way.  We rolled the wedding of an old friend (hooray, Mary and Cam!), a stopover at Myrtle Beach, an oh-so-brief visit with my southern kin, and an overnight at my folks' into five days of travel.  Remarkably enough, I felt well-rested when we returned, not exhausted from so much driving and hopping around as I'd expected (I'd nearly called of the vacation altogether for fear of it being more than I wanted to do).  The trip down to Asheville was uneventful and gorgeous, Olive traveled happily for the most part, and I was excited to bring Rob to one of my favorite places in the country.  We didn't spend much time there, but driving through that hilly stretch of Appalachians, with ridge upon ridge of smoke blue was enough to put me in a blissful state.  Mary's wedding was beautiful and perfect, though we had to leave early (before the pies were cut!) because of a quickly unraveling goon that needed to get some sleep.  The next day she enjoyed a dip in the hotel pool, falling in at one point.  I snatched her out by the ankle, but she handled the sudden submersion like a real champ.  She was ready for the ocean.

We packed up the Honda and headed east to the coast.  The crowded tourist trap that is Myrtle Beach would not usually be my first choice, but since time and cost were big factors in our plans it seemed the most practical place to stay.  We stayed in a less than impressive Comfort Inn about a mile from the beach, and made it out both days, despite some rainy weather.  It was pleasantly cool while we were there, and Buggy enjoyed the sand.  Only Rob suffered a bad burn, so we were pretty lucky.

We bid farewell to the salty coastal air and made it to my grandmother Honey's house in Graham by lunchtime.  We visited there for a while, then met my great-aunt Jean at the Burlington City Park till the heat of the sun drove us back indoors.  My aunt Weegie and her grandson, Jet, joined us back at Honey's.  We dined on pizza then got on the road to Maryland.  I was grateful for the buffer day at my parents' house spent doing mostly nothing, because it was just the transition that we needed.

Oh, and I got a sweet new MacBook Pro.  Not the kind of purchase I was hoping to make anytime soon, but it's a relief to have a fully-functioning machine again.

Technology Woes

It all started with a spilled cup of something, when, we aren't sure, but a bubble rose on the bottom of my trusty MacBook and it stopped taking a charge. Things went downhill fast while we were vacationing in the Carolinas last week, though we still had our iPhones. I left our shared charger at my parents' house. Rob went to San Diego for the weekend and left his phone behind, and I got word from the dude at the Apple store that it would cost $750 to work on my machine. Man. So now I'm faced with having to look for a new computer. And, aside from this tedious tapped-out-on-the-phone post, blogging will remain at a standstill, which is a bummer because I've been looking forward to sharing about our trip, as well as some shots of Buggy buried in the sand. It hasn't been all bad, though, as this has afforded me a bit more time to devote to more important matters - John Irving books, for example. As I don't go in for the racket that is the Fourth ok July, I imagine I'll be able to make some real headway.

Curing the Itchy Leg

Last August I began experiencing a horrible itching on my shins when I'd go to bed.  I'd claw at them all night and wake with scratch marks all over my legs.  At first I suspected it was my laundry detergent; with it being summer I wasn't wearing pants or anything covering my lower legs so I switched to see if that would make a difference.  It did not.  The itching persisted, lasting all this time, though now it goes all all day with no relief.  There's no sign of a rash, no bumps or bite marks, just maddening itching.  Rob did some research and saw a link to my symptoms and a thyroid disorders.  Around the time that the itching began some other things started to occur as well, and I'm only just now making the connection.  Hair loss, (slight) weight loss, and body flush were all things I noticed last summer.  The body flush is particularly alarming when it happens.  It begins with a tingling sensation all over my scalp, then my face and ears become hot and prickly.  Within minutes my entire body is covered in a blotchy red rash.  It lasts for about a half hour then goes away.  It happens irregularly, once a month at most, but I've never been able to trace a pattern with it like a food reaction.  I've made an appointment to see a doctor about this and have my blood tested to determine whether or not it's a thyroid issue.  These are hereditary and my mother battled an overactive thyroid when I was young, so it's likely.  In the meantime, however, I'm going to follow the advice of an acquaintance who has fought with itchy legs like I described for seven years.  Hers are the result of hypothyroidism and she claimed that whenever she eliminates gluten from her diet the itching goes away.  So today is my first day of this experiment.  My biggest problem will be giving up steel-cut oatmeal, my staple breakfast.  Looking at the rest of my diet, though, I don't see this being a problem.  I'd gladly give up oatmeal, though, if it means itch-free legs.  We'll see how this goes.

Goal Setting

I've been feeling hyper-motivated in the last few days.  Having the garden right outside our windows has done something to rev my energy.  Going out to check on and water the leaves of kale and the rest is one of the highlights of my day.  Making art more regularly is creeping back into my daily routine (I'm pleased with how I'm making use of my time, already working on a birthday gift for a special girl who is turning thirteen in August), and I'm starting to prepare paper, a major process in itself, for a collection of work that will be on exhibit at our neighborhood coffee shop in January.  And then there's the running.  I was just reviewing my running log and saw that there were two months so far this year that I ran over 50 miles.  I'd like to shoot for running 50 miles each month.  It's a great head-clearing activity, and I love that Nina has expressed an interest in it, too, so I've taken on a kind of trainer role for her.  We're starting slow and short, but I've encouraged her to keep a journal-calendar so she can record how she feels after each time we go out.

We've also been making improvements on our home.  Anyone who knows me is well aware than I'm no housekeeper, but at the end of most days we spend the five to ten minutes it takes to tidy up the living room, the space that sees the most wreckage during the day.  It's so nice to wake up each morning to a neat room.  The alternative is simply too chaotic for me to think clearly.  And I've been making the bed.  Not every day, but I'm starting to get into the habit.  It looks and feels better.  I feel better.  Things 'round here are good.

Brave Buggy, the Self-Suckler

It was a long day at the market for Olive today and she didn't take a nap, though during the last half hour she nestled down under a blanket and prepared for slumber.  I caught her on several occasions attempting - rather impressively - to nurse herself.  She had a handful of flesh that she was pulling mouthward, determined to get some satisfying results.  Silly girl.  Here's a picture, though it doesn't do justice to what was happening.

Sometimes when she's shirtless her pale, almost translucent skin calls to mind the scene in ET where Michael is biking around frantically in search of Elliott and sees ET half dead in a stream with a raccoon nosing about.  Does anyone else see it?

Later, while I was getting my bag out of the front seat of the car, I hadn't noticed a little hand slipping quickly into the door frame and I closed it.  I looked down and saw that my child's finger was still in the crack and I yanked it back open.  She made no sound of protest, though I was reminded of the time I got my fourth finger dislocated by a heavy metal cooler door and how it took several seconds for the pain to register.  I could see already, though, that her finger had been spared and it was only bruised and had a pretty good (as in bad) scrape down from her nail.  And then, oh, did she wail.  I was frantic and considered rushing her to the hospital but reassessed the injury and deemed such measures unnecessary.  Still, it gave me quite a scare to think of how badly she could have been hurt, the severed digit I may've had to retrieve and have sewn back on.  Yikes.  I knew that her pain was fleeting when we went inside and she was immediately calmed and distracted by her toys and books.  Since she wasn't about to let me near her "PBJ finger" - the blood and raw flesh must have looked like strawberry jam to her - I tossed her in the bathtub along with some splashes of tea tree oil to help disinfect the wound.  She went to bed happy as can be.

Holdin' on to Black Metal

Olive has some very clear preferences when it comes to music.  When we're in the car it's always, "Black Meddew (Metal)", so I play it.  It's track 6 off My Morning Jacket's 2011 album, Circuital, a pretty terrific collection of songs.  "Holdin' on to Black Metal" is one of the best cuts and was an instant favorite of Buggy's from the time I got a copy.  She'd bop in her carseat to the killer guitar-and-brass-driven beat.      It's now extending into the home.  At nap time today she requested it so I picked it out on the piano and sang for her; she seemed pleased.  This evening she demanded it so I cued it up on the computer, but once is never enough.  The moment the song ends - or even transitions into the song's bridge section - she's saying, "Listen Black Meddew!"  It's okay having this on repeat, especially when I think of some of the songs that play incessantly in the homes where children dwell.  The content may be questionable (five Lucifer references), but I'll take it over anything that plays on pop stations that insidiously capture the devotion of the 5-25 set.  MMJ is coming to Pittsburgh again in August so perhaps we can make it a true family affair.