Why I love Autumn #4: weathered wardrobes

Gone are the scantly clad daredevils showing a wee bit too much everywhere (except at the beach).

Scavenger Hunt Sunday: Remember

Bokeh

With all the rain we've had lately, there is no shortage of fungus among us...

Statues

I was thinking I'd play with this theme a bit - - show a stationary person looking quite "statuesque." But on a trip to Alexandria recently, I saw this head dressed Indian statue standing in front of a smoke shop. Something about it was equally offensive and intriguing. The stoic Native American depicted in a stereotypical style meant to be a carved work of art was posted in the doorway in what I'd hardly deem good taste. And yet...

Flying High


Process of Elimination:Exploring with Camera
Chi, like her Oma, has a thing for hats... so no one was surprised when she stole one of Oma's to wear on a walk today. She's at that age - - that in between youth and young adult stage when her personality is firming and her privacy is paramount. She's developed her own style. She sneaks away consumed in her intimate, personal thoughts. And while she adores the closeness of family, she cherishes her freedom to be alone.

These days I'm torn about writing about her. She's old enough to tell me what cannot be shared and young enough to feel sharp pangs of jealousy when the focus shifts too far away from her. It's easy to write about Ya. And Chi? Well, I'm starting to think she has a right to tell her own story.

Remember: Paper Heart Camera prompt
Today is the anniversary of Nine Eleven. Ten years ago I was sitting in Ike's car. My weekend bag was thrown on the back seat and I was excited to live it up in Lake Tahoe at a science conference. At 22 years old, I believed in the absolute safety of US soil. No one could touch us - - and I had a long family history of servicemen who'd vowed to protect us at all cost.

When the announcer interrupted the song I was happily bouncing to as I belted out off key lyrics and lamented the terrible California drivers, I thought we'd fallen victim to some War of the Worlds radio hoax. I wracked my brain to recall what buildings they were talking about. The Twin Towers - those two silver slivers that touched the sky - were burning. Something had struck them. A bomb? No, a plane. Make that two planes. They were crumbling. Collapsing upon themselves and sending up great billowing clouds of debris. A fog covered the City That Never Sleeps. And people were in panic. I couldn't allow myself to believe what I'd heard. I mumbled incoherently. I insisted I'd go teach my class and head out to cover the conference as planned.

Ike dropped me off at Burger King and wished me a good weekend. I walked into the building where people seemed to operate in a surreal sort of trance. Time had stopped. Though people were placing orders, as did I, no one was talking. There was none of the usual cacophony of public eateries. Every television was on, and from the five or so sets we - the patrons - watched in horror the replay of the Tower's demise. Strangers though we were, we sat huddled in arbitrary groupings oblivious of socioeconomics, heritage, and age. Tears. Uncontrollable sobs. Hugs from anonymous neighbors.

On the T.V., the images appeared in flickers, an endless slideshow. Or was it live footage? My mind fought to process. The Pentagon. Burning. Firemen. People. Smoke. Falling. Jumping. Blue skies now gray. Police. A ticker tape of close captioning.

I have to call my parents. I have to call my family in New York. Who works in the city? Are my parents, brother safe so close to DC? Is San Francisco a target? I dialed numbers on my cell. Dial tone. Beep. Beep. Beep. Busy. Please wait while the subscriber you called is located... I dialed again. The phone line dead. No service...

I remember praying. I remember fear. I remember wonder. I remember innocence. I remember sorrow. I remember strength. I remember brotherhood. I remember unity. I remember vows. I remember healing.

We will never forget.

Storms

We had a pretty violent storm last week.  The rain was pelting down on the windows so hard that I kept checking to make sure puddles weren't gathering inside.  The trees were tossed into a weird, ultra hyped up dance party featuring "the Twist."  Many didn't fair well.

The wind whipped 'round with such velocity that I wondered if we'd somehow angered the weather god.

The school system brought out their professional clean up crew and provided Ya with fascinating entertainment.



Elsewhere, however, the cleanup from this little weather system is much slower.  I can only imagine what it must be like to live in a disaster struck area. 

After the Rain

It's time to play!

and guess who's the happiest that the showers end?

This all-by-myself bike riding pro.

Rainy Day Fun

The funky mists, torrential downpours, and sporatic sprinkles aren't getting us down.

Nope!

Instead, we're jumping into the rain with both feet!

Rain, rain, rain down on me

The weather report was bleary:
90 percent chance of rain.
Droplets turned to torrents of downward running wet.
And though I thought the better, my willpower won.
A day in Adams Morgan, set aside just for me.

It was one I could not pass up.  So I drove. Windshield wipers swishing, but water fighting to stay. Slick streets make tires slide.  Sprays of grit and mud attack.  I drove on.  Surely, this storm was the end of the "scattered rain" episodes foretold?
GPS was lost, subsequently, so was I. Roads closed. No detour posted. She said turn left on a one way? Uh, no way.

I parked.  The digital map read .6 miles to the destination.  The building numbers around me suggested a few blocks further.  So I parked in an empty space (parallel parking flashbacks of Berkeley, not my forte). I hiked. Block upon block, I trodded.  Strolled past a community market with the best smelling South American inspired dishes ever.

The rain subsided to an occassional drip. A mist of laughter, and then sunshine shone through.  I arrived at my destination.  Ironically, it was in front of sUNtrust bank, the company that ruined my financial security with its pathetic mishandling of a government mortgage program.

The company offering the photo tour advertises "rain or shine," but they canceled... by e-mail... late in the evening... and the notice went to junk. Hmmm...

But I was in Adams Morgan, so why not explore alone?

{Sweet} Ice

I've been holding on to these photos for a week now... I shot them in my front lawn [1.18.11].  Certainly, I confused my neighbors with my early morning photo shoot in the icy chill of morning (teen degrees, at best and super slick and dreary).  They've never gotten used to me and Cannon-Cam bent over and staring at some insignificant leaf, bug, or dirt that caught my attention.  Oh well... that's me: the weird neighbor in the corner house.

This is not the winter I'm used to.  There's been little snow, lots of rain, and bitterly cold winds.  I think Father Time has Mother Nature on punishment for spending a bit too much time with Jack Frost last year.  Yes, that must be it.

They've called for snow and we've seen it hit all around us - as though some super shielding bubble is blown up around the county.  They've called for storms and just as quick as they've appeared, the remnants of their visit have vanished.  I think the meteorologists are as confused as we've become.

And yet, there is beauty in the unpredictable season. 

[last photo from 1.8.11 - when actual snow fell!]

Where's the White Stuff?

The weather outside is supposed to be filled with the fluffy white falling stars... but all I've seen are flurries.  It's nothing like the day long storm that hit last week, causing the schools to close early, the commute home to be treacherous, and giving us a Friday of fun. 

Now that was a snow storm!

It was a chance for sledding down Oma's hill:

(it's all about technique and personal style)

Then, time for an old fashioned snow ball WAR:

(veteran thrower didn't resort to her usual ice boulder tossing -- a first)

Oh, that was a great snow fall!

Big kid, little clothes

I know I'm a bit behind in my housekeeping duties... especially when my "I do it myself" 27 month old can yank clothes from his own closet and insist without wavering that he wear whatever he's found.

And this, my friends....

is true fashion...

I think he was just letting me know that the baby clothes of a few months past must go... oh how quickly he has grown.

Baby, It's cold

Temperatures have not seen the 40s for days...  The streets need to have flags posted reading, "ice, ice baby - too cold," but no one wants to go outside to post them. 

And with the winds channeling "a twister, a twister" a la Dorothy Gale, we're starting to wonder if we'll wake up in OZ instead of here.

It's been so cold, in fact, that even little man is running into the school in the dark, windy, cold mornings to escape the frigid outdoors.  His nose and upper lip are raw from blowing - so we've lathered them up with vasoline for temporary relief.  His eyes tear up in the winds.  He now insists on zipping his coat, pulling down his hat (though "not on my eyes, Mom!"), and even lets me put on his gloves.

The weather outside is frightful. And yet, winter has yet to begin...

{Simplicity Photography Challenge}

Cryin' Skies

The Sky Is Crying

We had a few days of beautiful weather. Temperatures "soared" to 60+ degrees and people pulled out shorts and tank tops. And then the meteorologists got the forecast right - again. They called for rain and, as if in response, the heavens began to cry. Tears are (like the blues song) rolling down the streets. They have been flowing for days. And, boy that he is, Ya is loving the puddles that are in good supply all over the place!

Getting Serious

One thing I ♥ about this endless snowfest we are having is that the ground is now an awe-evoking white backdrop.

Combine a great background with crisp black and white post-processing (Pioneer Woman Action Set rocks!) and you have what I think is a pretty impressive portrait.

It doesn't hurt that Ya gave me his oh-so-fantastic serious face every time we ventured outside...

See what I mean?

{addendum:  if you really like the look and feel of Black and White, check out Black & White Wednesday at The Long Road to China}

Chicken little told the truth...

...the sky is falling!

I really don't know why they didn't believe the poor little chick.  Sometimes Mother Nature's grudges turn into a wrathful revenge.  This is what we get for not relishing in the mild autumn and the pleasant summer we had this past year.  This is what happens when students wear their pajamas inside out and flush ice down the toilet. They even prayed for snow.  I bet Mother Nature got a memo from God that read "Kids faithfully saying their prayers, let's hook 'em up."  And she, feeling unappreciated for the beauty of the last two seasons, has given us exactly what was asked for - - and then some.

In just a few hours, the homestead will be blanketed in more wintry precipitation.  Depending on the newscast, it'll either be snow, sleet, or a combination of the two evils.  Considering that I just finished shoveling the last stubborn sheets of ice from the driveway (my car has been captive in the garage), I'm NOT looking forward to this storm.

When I grabbed supplies for this past weekend, I neglected to check the diaper reserves.  Turned out there wasn't any.  Sunday and Monday were spent trying to convince Ya that he could predict his need to potty.  He's got the idea, but requests to sit on the throne always followed the "urge to go."  I never counted the per day use of diapers until now... as I watched the diaper count swifty drop to no more left. Desperation set in, as I know too well that Celi does not manuever well on snow-covered streets.

Luckily, PopPop is obsessed with his job as snow remover (it helps that he's been off on Code Red with the rest of us folk whose schedules are dictated by the public schools).  He was out every four hours (I am told) clearing out the driveway.  This meant that Oma - who seems to work at her pediatric dentist no matter what the weather conditions are, but was miraculously off - could free me of my diaper distress by bringing supplies.  It's a good thing, because lil' man keeps pulling the darn diapers off and leaving them around the house!

While she visited with the kiddies, Ya got a rare opportunity to play with Happy Hampster Pee Wee - the return, which he was totally tickled to do.

I don't let HHPWtr out often because he's a bit of an escape artist. Twice he's taken exploration vacations around the house and was only discovered by the trail he left behind that I was forced to follow.  But I digress...

We're as ready as we're gonna get for this storm.  I've retired my poor metal shovel and adopted a snazzy blue beast.  I have "Blizzard Miracle" ice melt (which unfortunately looks like rock candy and has to be hidden from my tempted son, though had he ever tasted rock candy, he'd never want to purposely consume the stuff).  I have half a gallon of milk, eggs, bread, toilet paper, sandwich meat, a supersized bag of rice, and an assortment of snack items.  Daddy M added 82 diapers to the supply.  My laptop is connected to the internet so both Chi and I can be on computers at the same time (though I am mourning the loss of my delete key that I never knew was so important until it was gone).  And for the moment, I have my sanity :)

Winter Woes: Snowpacalypse Cometh

Stormzilla buries Prince William County under more than a foot of snow—felling trees, knocking out power and freezing all modes of transportation.

--- www2.insidenova.com

It's almost 5 p.m. and the snow that began around 12 p.m. yesterday is still coming.  At times it is beautiful - with delicate flakes wafting down from the sky in pretty swirls of powdery delight.  At other times, the winds make the temperature drop and the snow pelts the ground  (and those unfortunate enough to need to plow down the layers accumulating in the driveways to a manageable level) with a ferociousness that is downright painful. 

My shovel met its demise this morning as Marq tried to free his car from the nearly two feet of snow that had gathered overnight.  

 

That was at 10 a.m.  

Ya was out briefly, mostly because Mommy wanted to go outside.

Chi has refused to leave the house until the snow ceases.

I went out while Ya and Marq napped and pushed a bit of snow off the doorstep and the walkway.  Suddenly our usually reticent neighborhood has people outside and talking.  It's a nice change, as we exchanged superficial information about our lives and asked questions about comings and goings we've (secretly) watched from our windows. 

Just a little while ago, about 10 of my neighbors - all with functional shovels - formed a gang of sorts and went from house to house shoveling the new snowfall from around cars.  They even cleared our street so that at least one car could try to get through to the main road (which hasn't seen a plow since about 4:30 a.m.).  I felt pretty bad watching the efforts from my window, but not bad enough to attempt assistance with my pathetic tool formerly masquerading as a shovel.

 

And suddenly the tremendous curiosity about the total height of our snowfall (and the discovery of my obscured ruler) got me interested in venturing outside.  How could I make an appearance, though, when I'd not shown my face during the shovel fest?

I went out anyway.  I thanked the neighbor who said he dug out our car.  I spoke to a teacher-turned-administrator who moved from the same condo building to our townhouse row when we did.  And I snapped a few pictures before Ya demonstrated his new ability to open our front door by flinging it open and announcing his presence with a wail and cryfest.  I quickly tried to get a measurement, but my little ruler disappeared in the depths of snow (as did most of my arm), and so I couldn't get a good reading.

And now we're all stuck inside for the night... waiting out the slow passage of this blizzard of 2010 while wondering if Tuesday's call for 6 more inches on top of whatever is on the ground is really coming.

 

Make it stop!