matching tracksuits

fun in threes, sometimes fours

First Day 2019

Tuesday 20 August 2019

The Girl started seventh grade today, the Boy began second grade. The Boy, in his multi-age classroom, is now an “older friend” as opposed to a “younger friend.” “I know my teachers,” he explained when I asked why he was so confident about going to second grade. There’s a lot to be said for the continuity of having the same teachers for a couple of years.

The Girl starts algebra this year, and she’s on the school volleyball team, and she makes her own breakfast and packs her own lunch. Our little girl is no more; she’s a young lady, looking more and more like her maternal grandmother every day.

I began, I believe, my 20th or 21st year of teaching. I could count it up, I suppose, but what’s the point? More or less is more or less enough. Taking all I’ve learned from teaching, I began all classes with very little worry, very little concern: I know what works for an opening day; I know what doesn’t work. I filled the day with the former and successfully avoided even a hint of the latter. The kids are sufficiently assured that I can be as tough as I need to be and adequately convinced that my class can even be — dare I say it — amusing and fun at times.

Final Sunday

Sunday 11 August 2019

The last Sunday before I head back to school; the kids have one more week.

Thus ends summer 2019.

Lake Jocassee 2019

Thursday 08 August 2019

Just a little over a year ago, we went camping for the first time at Lake Jocassee -- not our first visit, but our first time camping there -- and we knew that we would have to go back. Again. And again. This year, we returned, taking our same camp site -- our beloved Site 20 -- and going to the same places, doing the same things. With one difference: K, finishing up a course, stayed home.

"I can study better for the final without you all anyway," she rationalized, but of course we all wanted her to go with us as much as she wanted to be there.

Still, it created a new dynamic as I explored an adventure with the Boy and the Girl. There's a difference in fun in threes that makes us rely on each other a little more and realize -- for the millionth time -- just how much K brings to our family.

For one thing, we're much more relaxed about getting started in the morning. If it were not for K, I don't think we'd get half the things done we usually get done. K is the early riser in the family, and even when we're on vacation, she makes sure we're up and eating at a decent out, out for our first adventure, ready for our second well before lunch. Without her, we managed breakfast by 9:00, usually making it to the water an hour later as we went to get ice for the cooler, to drop off the trash, and to accomplish various meaningless tasks.

Part of that might have been the inability to split tasks due to having only one adult present, but honestly, we just got up a lot later than we would have earlier.

It's tempting to say that everything else was the same, but how could it be? Everyone's a year older, a year wiser. The Boy made a friend and spend a good bit of time on his own with his friend J, in sight but most decidedly independent. The Girl floated out to an isolated area and lived in her own world at times. The Dog wanted -- actually begged -- to get in the water.

The next day was more of the same, but with a major change: the rock we discovered last year that was simply a lovely spot to go and watch the sunrise and do some fishing, became a jumping platform. The Girl, seeing me and others do it, leapt into the water without much hesitation at all. The Boy? Well, J his new friend was there, jumping off with abandon. The Boy didn't wait: off he went after a quick check to make sure I was in the water to help him if needed.

Tackling the Leylands

Thursday 01 August 2019

L’s First Day at the Pool

Wednesday 31 July 2019

L’s Return

Tuesday 30 July 2019

E and I had a chat about L’s return. He was so very excited — and not even once in those conversations did he ever talk about what she was bringing him. “I hope we don’t start fussing again,” he said.

“Well, that really depends on you,” I explained.

When we got home, the Girl went pretty much straight to bed. Played with Clover, played with Elsa, then went to bed.

Diving

Sunday 28 July 2019

Friday with the Boys Again

Friday 26 July 2019

Climbing

Thursday 25 July 2019

Growing up, I did a lot of bike riding. It was very safe in our neighborhood, for there was only one way in and out — no thru-traffic. There were a couple of hills in our neighborhood that were awfully fun to ride down but not terribly fun to ride up.

5-Fullscreen capture 8102014 113843 AM

Of these two, Lynnwood Drive was the most easily conquered. There was nothing too terribly steep, and with some patience and determination, I could make it up the street.

2-Fullscreen capture 8102014 113325 AM

Going one way. Going the other was more challenging. The hill was shorter but steeper. Having a single-gear bike, I found my legs burning and barely moving by the time I made it to the top.

1-Fullscreen capture 8102014 113315 AM

But Norwood — Norwood was unthinkable. It was unimaginable to ride up Norwood; one had to stop push. To a kid of seven or eight with a single-speed bike, it looked like the Alpe d’Huez without the switch-backs: just one, steep climb that felt like at least a 37% slope.

3-Fullscreen capture 8102014 113402 AM

Our own street, Lamont, was the easiest of the three — just a stead, upward grind

4-Fullscreen capture 8102014 113745 AM

I imagine this is much the same way E views some of the short climbs in our neighborhood. After all, all the above thoughts were based on my perception as a kid of about E’s age.

E could take all these hills without a problem. So far this summer, he’s ridden 180 miles with me…

Interruption

Wednesday 24 July 2019

One of the things I miss about living in Boston is walking down a street or emerging from a subway car to hear someone busking. Granted, there were enough buskers with little enough talent to make them a nuisance more than anything else, but every now and then, someone would make me stop, take a little time out of my day, and immerse myself in their world.

These guys, who sadly play in NYC and never ventured into Boston’s subway system (and probably didn’t even exist when I lived there — the sax player would probably have been a toddler then), have perfected busking: ten-minute sets filled with energy, dynamism, and a touch of humor.

It makes me wish that our family lived in a place with more of this type of thing going on.