happy birthday, Mom
It’s my mom’s birthday today. Happy birthday, Liz!
We’re on hyper-early deadline because of the holiday so I ran about a lot over the weekend and today, including ice runs and pill charting and snapping pix and writing stories that ROCK. I found out at about 5 or 6 p.m. that Youngest Girl has a project due tomorrow — making crêpes for the whole class. Surprise! Another trip to the store to get more eggs, milk, and the stuff with which to fill crêpes: Nutella (mmmmmmmmmmmmm), bananas, chocolate sauce and whipped cream. I am guessing she gets an A. We mixed the batter (she did it with guidance) and then had two pans going at once on the stove. There are 30+ kids in the class so we doubled the batch. Ack. By the end, she had the wrist motion down to making the crêpes. I’m proud of her.
Middle Daughter (the eldest in the house) managed to make dinner for the family while I was working a bit late. She cooked up some quesadillas with salsa and sour cream, refried beans and mixed squash (frozen from our garden — zukes and yellow crooknecks). All the kids plus one friend (the partner in crime for the crêpe project) ate. I had eaten a nasty burger earlier in the afternoon, thinking I was a-work until 10. But we finished almost everything, except for the three stories I have to write tomorrow before noon, ha fricking ha, and we closed the office up. I was home by 7, and that’s no lie.
I’m reading The Long Winter (part of the Little House series) to the Boy, and my but it makes one feel grateful. No e-mail, no heat, no way to get around, trapped in the depressing cold and dark for months — starving. They had faith, and they persevered. It’s a book to read when you want to feel empowered by the American spirit. What fortitude — they were buoyed along by the hope that spring would come, by old Scots songs and hymns, knitting in the dark, twisting hay to burn, grinding the wheat, waiting for the sun to come and the wind and snow to stop. Are there such blizzards today? How can we survive them? Why does nobody freeze to death or get lost in the snow these days? (Snow-birds, please explain this to me.)
Somehow, some day, I will visit all those sites, and somewhere in my brain there’s a book percolating. Little House at the Point, maybe. Little House on the Island.
Other than that, I am reading Rumi and he is blowing my mind, what little I have left. And trying to keep up on the writing of several books, har de freaking har. This is a short week, though, and we finish the paper and then stop for a few days’ rest. Can’t wait. Zzzzz.
Julia Park Tracey is an award-winning journalist, author, and blogger. She is the author of six books: three novels, one poetry collection, and two women's history. She was the Poet Laureate of Alameda, California, in 2014-17. She's also the conservatrix of The Doris Diaries, the diaries of her great-aunt Doris Bailey Murphy. She has a BA in journalism from San Francisco State University, and MA in Early 20th C. British Literature from Cal State Hayward. Julia's articles have appeared on Salon, Thrillist, Paste, Scary Mommy, Narratively, Yahoo News, Your Tango, and Sweatpants & Coffee. Her articles have also run in Redbook, Woman's Day, Country Living, House Beautiful, Town & Country, the San Francisco Chronicle, Oakland Magazine, Quill, and MadeLocal. She was the founding editor of weekly Alameda Sun and literary zine Red Hills Review. Her poetry has been in The East Bay Literary review, Postcard Poems, Americus Review, Cicada, Tiferet Review, and many others. Julia has been recognized several times by the San Francisco, East Bay and Peninsula Press Clubs as well as the California Newspaper Association for her blogging since 2003.