As flowers usually do as spring progresses...
Monday, April 27, 2009
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Summer
My blissfully brown husband looked down at my feet this evening, laughed hysterically, and said "white people are funny."
You see, I am currently enduring my punishment for jumping straight into a whole day in the sun after six months indoors with no buildup period. Despite my best precautions--I applied a liberal dose of sunscreen *twice*--I came back from our first canoe trip of the year looking like a deformed zebra. (My husband, on the other hand, is completely fine.) Tip: always remember to apply sunscreen to the tops of your feet when wearing Tevas.
Not that I'm complaining about my genetic inferiority (well, maybe just a little)--the cause of my troubles was overwhelmingly worth it. We whiled away a wonderfully peaceful summer's day (yup, spring flitted in and out of our consciousness in about two weeks' time) canoeing down the Shenandoah River, at the base of the Blue Ridge Mountains. No blackberry service, no pollution, no noise, and very few other people--just a boy and a girl in a little canoe, with the sun shining all around. (Sing it, Camp Dakani fans.) Canoeing, we have discovered, is our "thing"--the perfect activity that allows us to work together as a team, get a great workout, enjoy each others' company, and revel in all of God's glory. A great day.
I do have one question for you Virginians out there, though: what is with all the Confederate flags? We saw at least four as we floated down the river, all displayed proudly on flagpoles staked at campsites. I mean seriously--of all the things to take on a camping trip, why did so many of these people pick a tent, a cooler full of beer, a folding chair, and a Confederate flag? Strange.
You see, I am currently enduring my punishment for jumping straight into a whole day in the sun after six months indoors with no buildup period. Despite my best precautions--I applied a liberal dose of sunscreen *twice*--I came back from our first canoe trip of the year looking like a deformed zebra. (My husband, on the other hand, is completely fine.) Tip: always remember to apply sunscreen to the tops of your feet when wearing Tevas.
Not that I'm complaining about my genetic inferiority (well, maybe just a little)--the cause of my troubles was overwhelmingly worth it. We whiled away a wonderfully peaceful summer's day (yup, spring flitted in and out of our consciousness in about two weeks' time) canoeing down the Shenandoah River, at the base of the Blue Ridge Mountains. No blackberry service, no pollution, no noise, and very few other people--just a boy and a girl in a little canoe, with the sun shining all around. (Sing it, Camp Dakani fans.) Canoeing, we have discovered, is our "thing"--the perfect activity that allows us to work together as a team, get a great workout, enjoy each others' company, and revel in all of God's glory. A great day.
I do have one question for you Virginians out there, though: what is with all the Confederate flags? We saw at least four as we floated down the river, all displayed proudly on flagpoles staked at campsites. I mean seriously--of all the things to take on a camping trip, why did so many of these people pick a tent, a cooler full of beer, a folding chair, and a Confederate flag? Strange.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Oh what a beautiful day...
Today was one of the best days I have had in a very, very long time. In part, this must be attributed to the breathtakingly beautiful Spring weather; however, most of the credit goes to my darling husband and our dear friend Oz, who trained down from New York yesterday evening for a brief but wonderful 24-hour visit.
Last night, the three of us stayed up until 2am, just catching up and reminiscing. Today, we whiled away the day at Mount Vernon, soaking up some sun and history and togetherness. I must say, the feel of the sun on the skin has a way of brightening more than one's complexion. The red buds and cherry tree blossoms were out in full force, painting the vast estate's grounds in vibrant hues of reds and purples and pinks (which matched my nose and shoulders by the end of the day). Basking in the warmth, breathing the crisp, fresh air, and gazing out on the Potomac, I think we truly understood why George Washington almost turned down the presidency to remain at his home. I can't even begin to describe how much I enjoyed the day--I'll just note that, between the three of us, we must have proclaimed it beautiful about 30 different times before the sun went down.
This evening, after a quick visit to the White House and a scrumptious meal at our favorite Indian restaurant, we dropped Oz off at the train station. Although I usually despise such partings, and I did hate to see him go, I honestly couldn't muster up any sadness for the goodbye--I was too thankful for the sweet, simple, beautiful day.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Skype, and other amazing things
After sending my incredibly-good-sport-husband on a makeshift hunt for eggs--hardboiled, decorated with Sharpie, and hidden around the apartment--the two of us spent a lazy Sunday catching up with friends and family. Our chosen medium--Skype.
Now, I'm new at this Skype business. In fact, my grandmother--who has gone all the way from rotary phones and party lines to internet video phones--had to convince me to sign up for it. But she was right, as always--it's the coolest thing ever.
After taking showers and getting dressed so that we looked presentable enough to talk on the phone (*weird*), we started our morning speaking with the trendsetter herself. Among other things, we got to see the beautiful glass table my mother had made for her, and she got to comment on how much my hair had grown. From Florida. So cool!
While we were talking with Savta, my parents beeped in, wanting to talk (to "Skype"? Is there such a verb?). Apparently Savta has been after them about it too, so my tech-savvy brother set it up for them this weekend. As they have not yet been able to visit us in DC, they promptly requested a tour of our apartment. Now, I had thought to make sure we were properly clothed to talk on the internet phone (at least from the waist up), but I had neglected to anticipate the need for picking up the apartment. (The hidden flaw in the amazing Skype plan.) So Ankur stalled while I made the bed, and then we showed them around. Thanks to the internet, my mother gets to make sure I am cleaning my room, even while half a continent away.
Finally, and perhaps most amazing of all, we ended our Skype tour with a quick visit to Cousin Milap and family. In London. From across an ocean and six time zones, his mom got to inspect my tummy, see for herself that it was not expanding, and politely suggest that we get on with things.
So much family togetherness, from the comfort of our own living room! Indeed, our world is amazing. (Seriously. Click on the link--you'll be glad.)
See you on Skype!
Now, I'm new at this Skype business. In fact, my grandmother--who has gone all the way from rotary phones and party lines to internet video phones--had to convince me to sign up for it. But she was right, as always--it's the coolest thing ever.
After taking showers and getting dressed so that we looked presentable enough to talk on the phone (*weird*), we started our morning speaking with the trendsetter herself. Among other things, we got to see the beautiful glass table my mother had made for her, and she got to comment on how much my hair had grown. From Florida. So cool!
While we were talking with Savta, my parents beeped in, wanting to talk (to "Skype"? Is there such a verb?). Apparently Savta has been after them about it too, so my tech-savvy brother set it up for them this weekend. As they have not yet been able to visit us in DC, they promptly requested a tour of our apartment. Now, I had thought to make sure we were properly clothed to talk on the internet phone (at least from the waist up), but I had neglected to anticipate the need for picking up the apartment. (The hidden flaw in the amazing Skype plan.) So Ankur stalled while I made the bed, and then we showed them around. Thanks to the internet, my mother gets to make sure I am cleaning my room, even while half a continent away.
Finally, and perhaps most amazing of all, we ended our Skype tour with a quick visit to Cousin Milap and family. In London. From across an ocean and six time zones, his mom got to inspect my tummy, see for herself that it was not expanding, and politely suggest that we get on with things.
So much family togetherness, from the comfort of our own living room! Indeed, our world is amazing. (Seriously. Click on the link--you'll be glad.)
See you on Skype!
Saturday, April 11, 2009
How you know it's Spring--DC Style
I don't think I've mentioned this on the blog yet, but there is a tiny elementary school down the street from our apartment. I will not be sending my children there.
I'm sure it's a fine school--the parents who drop their kids off in their BMWs certainly look like they could have had their pick of places to educate their children, and they picked this one. But in my opinion, this is a very sad, sad elementary school. Not because the children who go there are "underprivileged" in the normal sense of the word--just the opposite. But these children are definitely deprived of something.
These kids walk to school every day on the concrete streets, dodging homeless people and pigeons, or else they are dropped off with the dry cleaning on their parents' way to work. These kids will never know the fun of handclap games played with Christi S. as they are shuttled into town on the big yellow bus. These kids will never have "field day" with shaving cream fights and kickball. These kids will never spend an entire recess camped out behind the school hunting for four-leaf clovers while plotting the next I Love Dusty T. Club. Instead, these kids will learn that trees are born in little fenced plots that crop up every five-or-so cement squares, and that the (imported) dirt they are planted in exists solely to serve as a dog-toilet. They will learn to modify their playground games so that they fit orderly into a 1/8 an acre space. And while these kids will have available to them every worldly opportunity--theatre, art, ethnic food, culture at their fingertips--at recess, these children will go outside and play on astroturf. Astroturf! This ra-ra city school can't even give these poor cement-grown children decent dirt and grass to play on outside.
The elementary school does at least make an effort to educate these kids a little bit about the seasons, however. Although the astroturf stays a vibrant green throughout the year, at springtime the teachers "plant" "flowers" in the "flowerbeds" that surround the fenced-in playground. So the kids at least get some plastic flowers to go with their plastic grass in the Spring. Ankur took a picture of one of these flowers on his way home from school the other day, so that I could share it with you.
Happy DC Springtime!
I'm sure it's a fine school--the parents who drop their kids off in their BMWs certainly look like they could have had their pick of places to educate their children, and they picked this one. But in my opinion, this is a very sad, sad elementary school. Not because the children who go there are "underprivileged" in the normal sense of the word--just the opposite. But these children are definitely deprived of something.
These kids walk to school every day on the concrete streets, dodging homeless people and pigeons, or else they are dropped off with the dry cleaning on their parents' way to work. These kids will never know the fun of handclap games played with Christi S. as they are shuttled into town on the big yellow bus. These kids will never have "field day" with shaving cream fights and kickball. These kids will never spend an entire recess camped out behind the school hunting for four-leaf clovers while plotting the next I Love Dusty T. Club. Instead, these kids will learn that trees are born in little fenced plots that crop up every five-or-so cement squares, and that the (imported) dirt they are planted in exists solely to serve as a dog-toilet. They will learn to modify their playground games so that they fit orderly into a 1/8 an acre space. And while these kids will have available to them every worldly opportunity--theatre, art, ethnic food, culture at their fingertips--at recess, these children will go outside and play on astroturf. Astroturf! This ra-ra city school can't even give these poor cement-grown children decent dirt and grass to play on outside.
The elementary school does at least make an effort to educate these kids a little bit about the seasons, however. Although the astroturf stays a vibrant green throughout the year, at springtime the teachers "plant" "flowers" in the "flowerbeds" that surround the fenced-in playground. So the kids at least get some plastic flowers to go with their plastic grass in the Spring. Ankur took a picture of one of these flowers on his way home from school the other day, so that I could share it with you.
Happy DC Springtime!
Sunday, April 5, 2009
The best part of DC
It was 69 degrees and sunny--the first really nice day of the year--and even an impending biology exam and a half-finished preliminary injunction motion couldn't keep us indoors. So we abandoned our books and walked the two and a half miles down to the Tidal Basin, where we basked in the joy of the sun and the cherry blossoms with the throngs of tourists and natives out marveling at the beauty of it all. The best international gift ever. (Beats the heck out of a bunch of DVDs.)
Happy Spring!
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