It’s a sweet cool morning in New Jersey. My little office in the spare room on the side of the house is almost sunny now that we removed a 50-year old behemoth tree that bathed one side of the home in permanent damp darkness. I like trees, but I like a sunny room even more.
After a winter of hibernation, we are back to weekends of movement and activity. I rarely enter this room on weekends now. I’m completely out of sync with the social media gossip, and my e-mail inbox is cluttered with coupons for Lands End and Barnes and Noble. Buried in there are important messages, I’m sure.
Monday mornings, I regroup. I need to scan through Facebook and Twitter, make a plan for the week, and declutter e-mail. I need to put aside time for some boring computer maintainence work. Then I’ll blog. I have to arrange dates with friends and order baked ziti from one of the zillion Italian catering places around here for Jonah’s confirmation party.
But first, I will download the camera. Some bits of life, I captured — the on-going yard work, a trip to the Yankee game, Ian’s broken toe.
Other great moments, I missed. There is no photographic evidence of Saturday’s dinner with an old friend. Our kids and her mother sat at a long table and talked about National Geographic posters, summer camps, and Indian ice-cream. A rare instance when the teenagers allowed us to enter their worlds, and three generations compared notes. Other moments will be lost to time because they were so fleeting. Like a teenager’s smile, they flicker on and off so quickly that I can’t push the shutter in time.
Apt. 11d 