Monday, August 16, 2021

Fingers sticky if I could only hear it

The air is translucent again, after days of thick, sticky heat, and birds singing through it in the yard. It feels like Maine!

Isaac was here for almost a week, and so was Oona, and there was some A+ cousin time, Zoë and Isaac and Oona (and sometimes Jonah) heading to the lake, to visit the food trucks on the Eastern Prom. Friday night, Adam, Oona, Zoë, and I watched Stop Making Sense in Congress Square Park, alongside a five-year-old's rollicking birthday party (birthday boy in a suit, much dancing along to the movie). 

I do keep thinking I should write more here, as a way to keep track of the Things and When they Happened.

Like this, a Kettle Cove picnic-by-the-sea on a hot August evening, with banh mi and cold seltzer and a raspberry swirl pound cake made by Oona and me. No Frisbee was played, no swimming was done, but there were Good Dogs there.

Or this, early on a Saturday morning, after we heard a rumor that Cong Tu Bot had reopened for breakfast only, and just the four of us headed out first thing to sit outside and try their breakfast sandwich and coconut yogurt with lychee and mango and sweet Vietnamese iced coffee and brilliant green pandan coffee cake. Pictured: walking there from where we parked the car, from across the street, I thought, my family!

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