Surfacing

Oh, blog, how I’ve missed you. The past couple of months have been preoccupied by an unbloggable life condition.

Even at its hardest, however, my life and surroundings offer up a series of moments of clarity. Actually that’s an understatement. The moments are more than just clear, they’re beautiful really.

I suppose restarting this blog-versation comes with an urge to reconnect some of the moments that dot the silence. Here goes.

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The McK household took a trip to Mexico's Baja Peninsula in October. The blue sky, the sting of salt water. We spent a fabulous day on the beach in La Paz. Toured a ghost mining town. Found a Hotel California McK & I schemed about asking the desk clerk what time check out would be. Naomi had chocolate milkshakes for breakfast. She body surfed the ocean waves. I hope to carry with me always the melodious sound of her cackling with whoops and laughter as she tumbled out of the crested wave and washed up on the sand. Our Baja adventure coined the philosophy that, in Latino culture, less is not more – more is more – and more and more is even better.
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With an assignment from school, Naomi had her first experience with the World Book Encyclopedia set. I was surprised, in an age of Wikipedia and Google, that the hardcover series would still hold such wonder. She was bedazzled. I remember the same sensation with the bound volumes of an encyclopedia. The creak of the binding, the way the world felt closer to me through these pages. Sitting at the small, South Branch library with Naomi and the World Book I was surprised how deeply the memory resonated.
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I was driving to work in November and there was this thin layer of ice on the bare tree branches. The sunlight hit the icy surface and gave off this drippy sort of cold, wet glistening trick with the light. It was lovely. Reminded me of crying. The way things take on strange properties when I have tears in my eyes. The lens isn't just blurred but sometimes spins or melts or glistens. The fingers of each branch barely resembled their usual appearance.
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I was driving Naomi home from school one night. After a long silence from the back seat, she gazed out the dark window and asked..."Do you think humans will ever have tails again? That would come in handy, I think."
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The lovely Ms. Mo breezed through town over the Thanksgiving holiday. I had the good fortune to see her not just once but twice during her trip.
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The fabulous Ms. B landed in Nebraska after her stint in the Peace Corps. We spent a lovely afternoon drinking tea and talking over books and life.
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I’ve spent a series of delightful afternoons in the patient company of Ms. C.

Among heavy life-topics we had a spirited discussion about a word, “wearifully”, which was on a spelling list our children brought home from school. After a lot of debate and several dictionary references, Ms. C and I are convinced: wearifully is not a word. Both Naomi & Isabel can spell it because they’re dedicated students, however, it is not a word.
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My dad has stopped by or otherwise orchestrated a couple of lively family dinners. Always a delight.
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I took a lovely trip to Boulder last weekend to run the Colder-Boulder 5K. Browsed bookstores. Curled up in an enormous hotel bed. Took the restaurant hostess up on her offer to be seated at a “community table” one sunny morning. Talked about communism and world travel and women’s history with my table companion.
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Even at its hardest it's a good life.