As it grew darker last Tuesday, and the girls got their costumes ready, Ally asked if I believed in ghosts.
No, I do not believe in ghosts or spirits. But I do believe in memories.
I believe in the collective memory of all the people doing what human beings have always done before me. Being a parent, being a Dad, being a son, being a man. Getting it right sometimes. Screwing it up sometimes.
Whether spirits exist or not, we are never alone. Memories, for me, are a benign presence, not a haunting one. They exist to teach, advise, caution, and inspire with all that prior experience.
They protect us. They reassure us. They give us company.
A low key Saturday before a dance convention eats up most of Sunday.
An AI-bot could probably write up this post based on the collective blog posts of the past.
It started on the couch where Ce is carefully rationing out the final boxes of Frankenberry.
It was a bit surreal to be running in near 70 degree temperatures at 7 in the morning in November surrounded by fall color.
Good luck to those running the NYC marathon today. Maybe that summer training will pay off in the heat?
Most of the GoFi puppies are now living with their new owners but are still coming back for training and need puppy sitters. We are happy to oblige.
This must be what grandparents feel like most of the time. Show up for the fun and cuddly stuff!
Hardest part of the blog this week was limiting myself to just two puppy portraits.
Week two: Michelle attempted to channel that post-puppy energy into conquering the leaves.
It was windy yesterday. It was a Sisyphean task.
After 45 minutes, I was able to convince her to stop. The leaves were mocking her. To be continued next week…
Ally and the cul de sac kids were happy to have some piles to play in.
Approximately three minutes after getting her to put the leaf blower down, I found her inside cleaning the windows. Can’t stop, won’t stop.
I long for the day when the girls put the same effort into school work, or instruments, or some other vocation that they put into carefully curating and selecting their candy.
There was a 10 minute deliberation phase. She did eat all her tacos and fruit smoothie so I couldn’t complain.
Also, she put up with her bangs being trimmed which is always a traumatic day.
Ok, tell me you didn’t look at the picture below and think mall food courts, middle school, lukewarm slices, and that perhaps the craft beer revolution had gone a bit too far.
Turns out, it’s not Sbarro (and they apparently they redesigned after declaring Chapter 11 in 2011) but Sabro.
I might have actually purchased Sbarro beer purely for curiosity. Alas…
We did take advantage of the Indian summer evening for a porch cocktail with friends.
Things I am determined to pass on as a parent: empathy for others, being a good citizen, how to avoid traffic on the Cape, and how to properly stretch pizza dough.
We are still getting to know each other but the new oven works.
If I ever get around to opening that pizza pop up, caramelized leeks, drunk mushrooms, and thyme might be the signature pie.
Kitchen update: we are auditioning painters now.
Sadly, even a Michelle at rest could not channel her extra energy into a Phillies win.
I hope you have a slow Sunday. Leave the leaves for next week.