friends | matching tracksuits

Meeting with Friends

Sunday 2 May 2010

It took some time, but the Girl finally got to spend out-of-school time with one of her best friends from daycare. With so much anticipation, there was only one fitting destination: the zoo.

“I have a lot of energy right now,” the Girl told me yesterday, pointing to her chest and adding, “In my body.” It’s common for three-year-olds, I suppose. Two of them together had an exponential effect. “Guys, slow down!” was the day’s mantra.

It was a day of firsts — not first-time experiences, but merely who could be first.

“Do you want a picture with the giraffe,” we asked, and they bolted to the first photo set, the Girl reaching it first and shoving her head and shoulders triumphantly through the opening.

“I’m supposed to be first.”

With some cajoling and physical manipulation, we managed to get them both in the frame. For all of 1.5 seconds, they sat still for a picture, then bolted off in different directions: the only sure way to make sure one is first.

The energy must have been contagious, for all the animals were unusually active. The reptiles were slithering about in their displays, and the four-year-old orangutan, Baby Bob, was climbing, rolling, and jumping.

Just more examples of the continuity among the animal kingdom’s pre-schoolers.

A Perfect Weekend

Sunday 25 April 2010

A perfect weekend might center around something like this:

Friends and family, good food and good conversation. That’s all the adults need.

L looks for something a little more active. Three dogs might just do the trick.

Three dogs and a swing raise the probability of satisfaction to nearly 100%

Three dogs, a swing, and a row of azaleas — well, perhaps we’re pushing our luck with that one. L loves flowers, but only insofar as they are pickable and portable. Lately she likes to pick flowers, tote them about a bit, crush them with affection (like the cat), then proclaim that she’ll plant them in a glass of water in her room so they can grow.

They rarely do, but she never gives up.

Old Friends’ Visit

Friday 9 April 2010

Party

Saturday 19 December 2009

Though her birthday was three days ago, L’s birthday party was today. Her first birthday was a much more adult-centered party. Her second birthday party was still dominated by adults. This year, it was all about the kids.

There was pizza and ice cream and candy and juice, but most importantly, there were games.

I believe we were seeing a little bit of L’s school side, As mentioned earlier, L’s teachers always comment on her mellow, compliant nature, something we don’t see too often here.

Whenever we try to play a game with her, there can be tense moments of an attitude that can be described as a typical toddler egoism: “It’s mine; I’ll do with it as I please.”

Today, there was none of that. L exhibited a simple graciousness that never demanded to be first, never begged to have it all, never stated that it must be this way and not that. She was the perfect host. It was her party, and she didn’t cry because apparently she didn’t ever want to.

And who could blame her? L’s two best friends from school were there, and what’s more, there was dancing.

The three candles were out in a flash, and the party seemed to wrap up even faster. I glanced at the clock and saw it was, in fact, two hours since the first guests arrived.

In a word, a success. “See you next year,” said one parent as a best friend was leaving.

We’re looking forward to it — especially the Girl.

Retrieving Apples

Sunday 25 October 2009

A trip to the orchard is supposed to involve stretching to pick the perfect apple that is just out of reach. It’s supposed to mean a delicate tug and twist to remove an apple without causing others to fall to the ground. It’s supposed to be about branches bending under the weight of apples. Last year it was about all those things. This year, it was a question of picking them off the ground.

It’s a little disheartening to be scavenging apples rather than picking them, but Pink Ladies — sweet with a tart edge and a crunch that is audible — are not apples one leaves to rot on the ground.

So we picked them,

hauled them in baskets

as well as wagons,

and brushed them off and ate them.

Every now and then, we stopped for a group picture, which reminded me of the greatest features of digital photography: easy sharing. No more line of cameras at the photographer’s feet. No more “One more! Just one more!”

No more last minute re-groupings as someone realizes that he wants a group picture, too.

And that certainly was a possibility, given the number of photographers in the group.

Farm on the Hill

Thursday 18 June 2009

A visit to the Asheville area is not complete without a visit with Mike and Pia, our friends from the farm on the hill.

Their farm has grown considerably since our last visit. Their chickens have grown, they have a goat, and they added two bunnies to the fold.

For the days preceding our visit, L continually talked about going to see Mike and Pia “and the goat, and the chickens, and the dogs, and the bunny rabbits.” When she finally met the goat (whose name is Little Bit or Leadbelly, depending on whether you’re talking to Pia or Mike, respectively), L was a little apprehensive. It’s her usual modus operendi:be terrified for a few moments, then strike that and reverse it.

The chickens, all grown, have their own house now. The Girl was not at all interested in going inside, which is to say she would have been had we given her enough time.

The sight of all those chickens, scurrying about, clucking and flapping was too unpredictable for L to handle, so she simply waited outside.

Once a chicken was isolated, though, the L was eager to pet and giggle, giggle and pet.

The sun finally set, and with L in bed, we sat around the porch, then around the kitchen, talking, laughing, imbibing this and that, until after midnight.

One of the negatives about moving out of Asheville was leaving behind friends. Yet there is a sweet note to the bitterness: the semi-yearly visits become all the more precious. We all bounce out of the house crying, “We’re going to Asheville!” It’s the classic dilemma/blessing.

Meet Big Wolf

Saturday 6 June 2009

She’s been telling us the story for months now, and we’ve been pretending along with her about her imaginary friend, Big Wolf. At the zoo last weekend, we had an idea.

“Big Wolf is right over there,” K whispered when we were in the gift shop. Sure enough, a pile of stuffed wolves. “She hasn’t seen it yet,” K continued.

“You keep her distracted,” I replied, “and I’ll buy the wolf and sneak it into our bag.”

We took her outside, had her sit down, and told her there was a surprise in the bag.

She looked in the bag and was immediately delighted. “Big Wolf!” she cried out, eager to show everyone.

After so many months of looking for Big Wolf, we finally found him. While most say the search, the journey, is the important aspect of any adventure, the actual meeting — the goal — was a moment of pure, unsurpassed joy.

Since then, Big Wolf has been her daily companion. He accompanies her to daycare, and even joins in the morning circle, the teachers tell us. “We’ve all gotten used to Big Wolf joining each and every activity,” Miss Brenda told me.

L constantly reminds us of the trick to life: find joy in the simplest things.

Burning the Witch

Saturday 17 June 2006

Ognisko

Saturday 25 February 2006

Welcome Home Party

Wednesday 20 July 2005

Party

Saturday 2 July 2005

E’s Visit

Sunday 24 April 2005

K’s roommate and best friend from college dropped by for a visit. Photos by K

Slide Guitar

Saturday 9 April 2005

Party

Wednesday 30 March 2005

Johnny

Sunday 23 January 2005

Johnny is only his latest alias. When I met him, he went by Abdul. For a while, our mutual friend insisted on calling him Albert. But Johnny is Janusz’s choice now.

My best friend in Poland, Johnny’s fate represents to me all that’s wrong with Poland today. Armed with a Master’s Degree in political science from Poland’s oldest and most respected university, he should have no problem getting a job in Poland’s EU-transitional reality.

He’s currently a concrete finisher in Liverpool. “The pay’s better than anything here,” he says with a smile, “And I sleep well at night.” With the opening of job market in Ireland and England (among a handful of other EU countries), Poles have been virtually stampeding out of the country. Ireland is an especially attrative country for Poles today, as an employment source and a model for how to integerate successfully into the EU. Literally whole families are picking up and moving to Ireland, running from 19+% unemployment and a political system so filled with corruption that it ranks first among EU countries in that regard.

Johnny’s returning to England in a few weeks. His plans are uncertain, other than squirreling a bit a way and working on his English.

It’s a shame, though, for Poland needs smart and honest young people now. During the small party after my and Kinga’s civil wedding, Kinga’s aunt was talking to Johnny and by the end of the evening was convinced that Johnny had to stay in Poland, get active in politics, and save the country.

Still, despite it all, Johnny’s optimistic about his country’s future. He recently bet a mutual friend a one-liter bottle of Jack Daniel’s that in four years, everything would have normalized noticeably. “Normalized” was not really defined, but who cares — as I told Johnny, “If I happen to be in Poland then, I’ll be drinking with somebody!”

Johnny

Friday 25 June 2004

Last Night at Quattro

Monday 1 March 2004

Last night was the last night ever at Quattro. Strange. I sat there with Johnny at our usual seat—though at first it was taken and the suggestion that we go fight the occupants for it was met by Johnny growling, “Don’t provoke me.”—and wondered how many hours I’d spent in that place. Probably way too many.