Prepared

Ready for any kind of weather, she is, Ms. Crazy Preschooler, with her spiffy pink galoshes and her prized foam visor she made her very own self.

Laughing

Sitting Down Marching Bangers

One of my favorite things about the community I live in is the summer concert in the park series. Each week on Wednesday evening, the community concert band plays for about an hour in the park. Each Wednesday I load up the two seat stroller and we hike across the walking bridge, over the highway to the north side of town. We unfold our lawn chair. Mr. Slobber jiggles and giggles in the stroller. Ms. Crazy Preschooler crawls up onto my lap in the lawn chair, and we listen to over fifty instrumentalists age eleven through ninety something play Sousa Marches, tangoes, overtures and even the theme from Sesame Street.

The park is filled with spectators of all ages lounging on benches and their own portable, comfy folding lawn chairs. Children bounce around on the grass to the strong beats of marches. Middle aged people read Time and Newsweek as they listen to the music. Last week one lady was reading the latest Harry Potter installment. My husband totes along pediatric medical textbooks for a several heavy pounds of reading when he isn't on Wednesday night call.

My kids love listening to the band. Before we moved, Ms. Crazy Preschooler's highlight of the day was when we would follow the high school marching band around in our stroller while they practiced in the street. Because the concert band sits, she started calling them the "sitting down marching bangers." Mr. Slobber kicks his legs to the beat and drools contentedly during the slow sections of the overtures.

The sun sets. The air grows more crisp. The band is not always perfectly in tune. In fact, they don't always sound remotely in tune at all. But they have a great time. The audience has an even better time. There is just something special, old fashioned, about real music in the outdoors, under huge green trees in the park. This summer is the 110th season of the community band, and it's still going strong.

Aspirations

Ms. Crazy Preschooler told me two days ago:

"When I am a grown up, I am going to be a tennis player, or maybe a garbage man."

Harry Potter has Arrived

Ssshhhh. We're reading. Harry Potter arrived via express mail from amazon.com TODAY. My husband has it now. I was OK about him having the book until just a few minutes ago. You see, I have neglected all domestic duties last night and today rereading the fifth Harry Potter book. Cheerios cover the kitchen floor. Yogurt is rotting on the kitchen counter in ninety degree heat. To walk through the living room you have to shuffle through piles of puppets. You can't even see the surface of my desk. Our abode is a disaster. I don't really care. I'll fix it later, after I get ahold of the sixth Harry Potter book and fininsh it. I had to reread the fifth book, because unlike my husband who has been through the 800 plus page masterpiece nine times, cover to cover, supplemented by extensive spot reading in the interior of the book, I had only read the book once. I needed to reivew. I couldn't believe I had forgotten so much in two years! It was like reading the book fresh over, and now that I just finished the last page in my comfy hammock swing, I am itchy. I am antsy. I cannot wait for the book in my husband's hands. A nice person would just give it to me. I'm a fast reader. He could easily have the book back in his hands by 4:00 a.m, probably sooner. But he's relentless. And I'm holding out for the hope that if I let him finish it with only minor interuptions maybe he will watch kids all day for me tomorrow so I can hide out and read it straight through.

Hopeless Conversation in the Car

Our family drives back from the house of some friends who have purchased a large above ground swimming pool.

Ms. Crazy Preschooler: I like their swimming pool. I really really do. I really really really really really really wish we could get a swimming pool like that.

Me: Hmmm. It was pretty neat, wasn't it?

Ms. CP: It's so big! Can we have one?

Me: No, I don't think so. It's so big that if you weren't in it with a grown up you might sink.

Ms. CP: I wouldn't sink. I think maybe we should go to the store and get it now.

Me: No, it's too expensive.

Ms. CP: Maybe we could go see how pensive it is?

Me: I think it's time to go home and find your pajamas.

Silence.

Ms. CP: But I really want one for our yard.

Me: Honey, that pool was bigger than our yard. Besides it would kill our grass, and we like to have nice green grass to play on!

Ms. CP: Why would it kill the grass?

Me: Because grass needs sun, and the swimming pool would cover the grass so it couldn't see the sun.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence. We stop at a red stoplight.

Ms. CP: How bout I have an idea. We could fit it in the garage.

Evening Balloon Glow

I've always loved hot air balloons, although until this evening I can't say I'd ever seen one up close. We took in our first balloon glow tonight. It was awesome. We drove to Wausau, and there were about 20 balloons up in a park. People milled about and visited with the balloon pilots who hung out in their cute little baskets. Ms. Crazy Preschooler was quite frightened of the loud sounds when the fire heats up the air, but when she got used to it and stopped screaming in terror, we all had a fantastic time. I loved the colors of the balloons. It was interesting because some of the most beautiful balloons by daylight were mediocre when the sun set, but other balloons you'd pass by with minimal admiration during the day were amazing at night. Ms. Crazy Preschooler's favorite balloon was a gigantic (and I mean GIGANTIC) red chili pepper with call kinds of crazy pepper appendages sticking out of it. I tended to favor balloons with a more rainbow flavor. Mr. Slobber didn't seem to have a particular favorite at all.

I love the light on this picture taken at my parents' farm in North Dakota.

Evening Sky

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Originally uploaded by super rachel zana.

North Dakota

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Originally uploaded by super rachel zana.

I haven't stopped blogging, really. I've just been away from my computer for 3 weeks visiting North Dakota.

I miss the sky there, always being scupted into a new artistic marvel.

I miss my North Dakota license plates. Simple. Subtle. A blend of unobtrusive colors serving a background of easy to read letters and numerals.

I miss the daily gale of 40 mile an hour winds that serve as excellent resistance while walking and replace the need for a hair dryer in the summer. I miss the roar of the wind through an occasional shelter belt and the relief from humidty it brings on a balmy summer day.