Aug 24, 2017

Stranger Danger Online

When I got home tonight the kid had left the computer on while logged into her e-mail.  I sat down and before I could log her off I did a cursory scan of the subject lines of the emails looking for red flags, sex, drugs, and general teenage stupidity.  I saw something about a hotel and of course clicked it.

Aunt Lauren was inviting the kid and 15 other people to stay all at the same hotel for the wedding last spring.  And then Harvey invited the kid and a bunch of other relatives to Easter dinner. Next was a bunch about Esther's 90th birthday and who was going to fly in for that? Lastly there was a bunch of e-mails containing corny jokes about electricians from cousin Eric. I rolled the mouse back through a couple of years of correspondence from people I've never heard of.

Let me be clear, we are not related to an Aunt Laren, Harvey, Esther or Eric.

I called the kid downstairs to explain.

"Do you have a second family you've been hiding? Who are these people? Do you have a Grandma Esther I don't know about?"

"No!  I don't know who these people are but they keep sending me emails and photos! I don't even read my e-mail unless I see it's from myself!"

Apparently this is how she moves artwork from one account to the desktop computer but her account has been infiltrated by a very nice family who would like us to know that Shirl's baby is getting baptized and Uncle Carl had a very nice time at the Lake. I clicked though a few more and they're sent from people's work complete with job titles and companies and phone numbers to perfectly normal occupations, so I think it checks out.  It's not some weird roll playing fan fiction world the kid and her hipster pals are playing where peach jello molds, mom jeans and ridiculously boring puns are all of a sudden cool.

I'm not even sure how to feel about this. It occurs to me that the family might think that one cousin who never replies is a "real wet rag". I'm pretty sure that's how they'd say it in hushed tones.

Anita MacRae Feagles and The Tooth Fairy

Anita MacRae Feagles wrote and illustrated The Tooth Fairy.  I checked out the little hard cover book from the Rockford Public Library more than any other book.  In my thirties when my first child lost her first tooth I became obsessed with finding this tiny book again and hadn't a clue who wrote or illustrated it I just remembered the fairy illustrations and how the book made me feel all happy about loosing my teeth.  I google searched through thousands of images over several weeks until I found it.

I get that little book out and read it on the very night The Tooth Fairy will visit our house, just before bed.  We'll read it tonight.  It's simple and charming and it's The Tooth Fairy I've always known my whole life.  She's a city fairy.  She has a house and a job and throws parties and I imagine she drives a little hatch back car when she's not traveling by magic.  Some of these facts weren't in the book they were just part of what I imagined in my head.

"Anita MacRae Feagles, of Vero Beach, Fla., and Fishers Island, N.Y., died on March 14 2008, with her husband, Robert Feagles, at her side.

She was born in Chicago, the only child of Cuyler and Anita MacRae. She was raised in Chappaqua, N.Y. She received a bachelor's degree from Knox College in Galesburg, Ill., where she was a member of the Pi Beta Phi sorority, and an master's in education at City College of New York. She was a member of the Junior League of Mt. Kisco, N.Y.

Following her marriage to Robert Feagles, an international banker, she lived for two years in San Juan, Puerto Rico, before they returned to Chappaqua. She had four children and became a prolific writer, publishing 20 books, mostly for children. She accompanied her husband on numerous international trips, and was able to do research in Mexico, England, Spain and Iceland, which led to books set there. They lived in London for two years, and later moved to Hartford. They have also maintained a residence on Fishers Island for over 25 years.

She is survived by her husband and three children, Cuyler, of Freeport, Maine, Priscilla Hammond, of Lyme, and Patrick, of Vero Beach. Her oldest daughter, Wendy Harwood, predeceased her. She also leaves behind seven grandchildren and three great-grandchildren. In addition to writing, she worked as an ombudsman in the Connecticut prison system, as instructor in English at Indian River Community College, and as a Guardian Ad Litem in the Florida 19th District Court System.

Memorial contributions can be made to the Humane Society of Vero Beach, PO Box 644, Vero Beach, FL 32961 in memory of Mrs. Feagles."

the tooth fairy by Antia Feagles

Aug 23, 2017

When School Started

Both kids are in school all day.  This is their third day back.  Nobody started a new school or is doing anything different really from last year.  I'm sitting here thinking I forgot something.  I'm waiting for someone to ask me where their sock is or if I'd help them pour the milk.  I have a ton of work to do and the house still isn't straightened up from the summer activities.  Still I am wistfully sad the summer is done.  I just can't get enough of their cute faces and the way they play with the dog and are constantly making things.  This afternoon when everyone is off the buss and I'm trying to carve out a moment of quiet among the hustle and bustle, I'm sure I wont remember the longing from this morning, but perhaps I'll be more patient when digging through the laundry and mopping up milk. Life moves too fast.

Aug 1, 2017

Back to the Future

I joined a grocery delivery service.  I've never been happier about grocery shopping in my life.  I got just the things I needed for the stuff I am going to cook. I didn't order potato chips because I didn't have to walk past end caps with giant family sized bags screaming out to me to bring them home. No children asked me for any candy bars or toys or cookies.  I leisurely filled my digital cart all morning while thinking about what we needed, occasionally searching through the refrigerator and asking the kids what they wanted, while in my pajamas. I tried these little organic artisan purple carrots - holy hell I'd forgotten what a carrot is supposed to taste like. Get yourself a little organic purple carrot.

Other services and things I wish they'd bring back to the future:
A full service gas station in the dead of winter please.  
A phone I can hold with my shoulder while doing other things.
Free un-wired broadcast TV, I'm sick of cable.
Handwritten correspondence.
Dance halls.
Stylish shaped cars.