Beauty Can Come Out of Evil

Today I lost my brother to unimaginable circumstances which are still too fresh and mysterious to write about. Because of this, I found my sister, whom I had lost a dozen years ago.

Wish that situations had been different for the three of us, and that we could have gotten together once in the last 22 years, but the past is past, the future isn't here yet, and today was a violent storm with a bright silver lining.

Playdate with the Auna's

Elijah, Elise and Pav. Ready to go out and play.

My dear friend Kaelene (the only other mother in Scott's program) included Pavlina and I in her church's playgroup last year and there we met the cutest family: the Aunas. Jackie, mother to Elise (3yr) and Elijah (2), is the warmest, friendliest person, a very patient mother, and has always made me feel welcome at playgroup, especially now that Kaelene is back in Hawaii. Her kids are adorable munchkins with the best sibling relationship I've seen. So it was a joy to get our kids together for a play session last Friday morning. We've missed playgroup a lot this summer and with her playmates Kiara and Maka (Kaelene's kids) gone poor Pav hasn't had much contact with anyone near her age. It started out cool, but after lunch it turned into one of those gorgeous fall days with crisp air, warm sun and the bluest sky. We all headed to the playground near their apartment to let the kids play. The clear air made for good pictures which Jackie was kind enough to forward to me:

Jackie, Elijah and I

Pav climbs the jungle gym Elise, Pav and Elijah make a train on the slide. Turns out Jackies kids like Thomas the Train too.

Pav shows proficiency by her second pass on the beam. Gymnast in the future, perhaps? Considering she's 95th percentile for height, perhaps not. Women's basketball?

Dessert of the Month

Martha Stewart fans will recognize the title as being "a good thing." Normally the dessert of the month is just a picture of pretty food to drool over since I have never before attempted to make it. I didn't expect October 2008's Concord Grape Jam Tart to be an exception until a series of events convinced me that I was meant to spend a third of my Saturday making a tart that we wouldn't get to eat until the next evening.

Last Saturday morning Pav and I headed to our favorite Al-Anon meeting in nearby Takoma Park. It is my favorite meeting not only because it is a large group of committed, wise people with a lot to share, but also because there is free childcare! Thus it was a good situation for all of us: Pav had an active play session with a girl just a bit older than she (and was properly worn out in time for a long afternoon nap), I got a spiritual recharge and motivation to leave behind the beginnings of a fall slump in energy, and Scott got to clean up from breakfast (inducing slight guilt which factors in later) and write his review without interruption. Several people sharing at the meeting mentioned following the guidance of their Higher Power in the previous week which got me thinking about...well we'll get to that later too.

On the drive home I was reminded of a goofy conversation we shared with a friend over lunch the day before. He had mentioned that the fruit stand we were driving past would soon be getting in the first of this fall's "crack cider." As in "the cider is so good, it must have crack in it," and it is, my mouth is watering just writing about it. So I stopped. And guess what else they had: concord grapes. My higher power was speaking to me. And I decided to listen. I mean, I started going to Al-Anon five years ago and have been stuck on Step 3 (of a 12 step program) ever since: Made a a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of our Higher Power. How does a control freak give up control? She makes dessert. What better way to begin Step 3, assuage my guilt over leaving Scott with a mess to clean up all by himself while he was supposed to be working, and leave my fall laziness behind?

After lunch I started on the tart. It was like most other Martha Stewart projects I've tried--harder, and more laborious, than it looks. What was supposed to take 10 seconds with a food processor took me 30 minutes without one. After every step I had to stop and clean up to make room for the next. Scott asked if I was going to take a picture of the tart and I told him I might as well, since I was never going to this much effort for a dessert again. Of course, after we tasted it I agreed we'd have it again, just not for awhile.