A Blustering Day

The southern wind
Doth play the trumpet to his purposes,
And by his hollow whistling in the leaves
Foretells a tempest and a blustering day.
(1 Henry IV, 5.1)

We woke this morning to a blustering day. Hurricane Irene is headed our way. On our 7am grocery trip we found the batteries and flash lights were sold out and most of the bottled water. I've heard the rain is supposed to begin around noon.

On Wednesday we had a 5.8 earthquake. I had the interesting experience of hearing about it before it happened. I was on a conference call with my work. The office is located in Charlottesville which was about a hundred miles closer to the epicenter. They started shaking about 30 seconds before DC. I was grateful for the forewarning because it made me certain it was an earthquake instead of a bomb. We had a few things fall off shelves. Most notably my box of postcards. Here's a scene of the damage.

In between disasters we've been having fun. We played in puddles. Miriam turned 13 months and chipped her front tooth when she snuck into the bathroom and crawled-fell into the tub.

We rode the carousel at a nearby park that I have memories of going to as a kid.

Reuben took his zebra ride very seriously.

Summer's Blood

We went blackberry picking first thing Saturday morning. All of us, together, which felt amazing. The air was thick and sweet with the smell of everything at the climax of life. The berries were so ripe they were bursting. I found myself taking deep breathes, trying to take it all in since I know the summer is beginning to ebb away. The nights are getting longer. The violent thunderstorms have started to sweep away the heat. I haven't smelt the chill in the air yet, but I know it won't be long.

But enough about the weather. You're probably here for the kids. They had a great time helping pick and eat.

An excerpt of a poem I was trying to remember while we were out in the patch.

"Blackberry Picking" by Seamus Heaney  Late August, given heavy rain and sun
For a full week, the blackberries would ripen.
At first, just one, a glossy purple clot
Among others, red, green, hard as a knot.
You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet
Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it
Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for
Picking. Then red ones inked up and that hunger
Sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam-pots
Where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots.
Round hayfields, cornfields and potato-drills
We trekked and picked until the cans were full,
Until the tinkling bottom had been covered
With green ones, and on top big dark blobs burned
Like a plate of eyes. Our hands were peppered
With thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard's.
We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre.
But when the bath was filled we found a fur,
A rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache.
The juice was stinking too. Once off the bush
The fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour.
I always felt like crying. It wasn't fair
That all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot.
Each year I hoped they'd keep, knew they would not.

And sorry for the long absence. In my last post I mentioned I was sick. Then I got sicker.

Then I got swamped with work. I should be working now. But I wanted to let you, dear family

and friends, know that we are well and love and miss you.

Bugs and More Bugs

Summer is for the bugs and we have plenty around here.

I'm sick. Reuben is sick. Miriam is sick. So Aaron will probably soon be sick. The cold medicine is messing with my head so I'm not going to write too much. My brain is crazy right now.

So enjoy the pictures.

Reuben loves the microscope at the study room. Behold, my future entomologists :)

It's so humid the lens of my camera keeps fogging up. We went on a family nature walk. Reuben found this butterfly.

Miri got a kazoo at her Grammy and Papa's house a couple days ago. She's been kazooing every day since. Her dedication to a daily practice routine is a little nerve racking. Will I, as a parent, be capable of enduring the horrible noise of real musical instrument training? I have my doubts.

The nature center near us has a dug out. I'm not really sure if they technically allow people to climb in it, but nobody stopped us. The kids were thrilled.

I'm reading The Lost City of Z which is about the British explorer, Percy Fawcett, who mapped the Amazon, claimed to have discovered an ancient pyramidal city in the middle of the jungle, then disappeared. (He's the inspiration for the crazy dog guy in UP.) Several search parties have tried to discover his fate only to go missing themselves. The Amazon is a deadly place.

Selecting a book to read about people dying of fevers while I have a raging fever might not be my brightest moment, but it is fascinating. As a bonus it makes the insect life around MD seem wimpy. No blowflies depositing eggs under our skin. No eye licker gnats. No flesh eating bees. No malarial mosquitos. Life is good.