Lovelihood

We're about halfway through the Kinder eggs. Ok, I'm about halfway through them. Along with my nightly coffee and crossword, a sweet little treat usually gets me through the after-hours, leaving behind a highly choke-able surprise for the kids to find in the morning.

These little cups are the workhorses of our tableware. They are our go-to juice receptacles, yogurt servers, snack apportioners, tea service, wine sippers. Dishwasher safe, and durable in greasy little hands. Today they contained the delightful jiggles of Jell-O, cut into snackable little squares to bribe a sick Boy into getting lunch down his sore, sore throat.

The weather forcast still insists that today would be all rain and puddles. But the reality was that it was quite nice out, and we celebrated by pouring out some dirt into a container and sprinkling (ok, dumping) in all manner of wildflower seeds. But a tamped-down surface of potting soil makes for a poor pictorial, and I'm pretty sure I've already worn out that photographic cliché of a palmful of seeds over a pile of dirt. And Spring has been blaring its horn the past few days with the daffodils suddenly greeting us on the back porch and the birds whistling their good-mornings and the neighborhood cats stalking the best sunny spots to laze. A couple of the trees out front (I really am botanically dense) have blossomed the sweetest shade, prompting The Boy to declare that, today, pink is his favorite color.

For months the darkest corner of the house was the one our couch sits in. A lovely couch it is, custom ordered once the paychecks started rolling in again, a spot designed for lounging with a crossword puzzle or settling in with some needlework. That is, if there were enough light to make out anything between my face and the television. And I've got some binding to sew onto my latest project. So lighting that corner pushed its way up the priority chain this weekend, and we headed down to Ikea to pick up my favorite lamp, one we've previously owned and failed to move with us. You've likely seen it a million different times in magazines and other people's homes. Maybe even your own home. Not exactly an original. But I like the shape and life of it, even while I dream of brewing up some lighting concoction out of mason jars and cardboard tubes. Some other unlit corner, perhaps.

The Boy's preschool class took a little bus and train expedition to the asian supermarket today, and came away with spoils in the form of chocolate panda cookies (because his shopping buddy likes chocolate panda cookies) and these teeny tiny puffy stickers. Now, normally I might insert some snarky comment here about white people wandering down aisles and macro-documenting all the wacky foods and novelties to be found in the depths of the International District. Except that this is THE asian supermarket we're talking about. And I've been known to, on particularly uninspired days, pack up the kids and head down to the ol' 'Waji and poke through Hello Kitty provisions, bento box stacks, the world's cutest office supplies, craft books to die for (if I could only decifer all the little diagrams), and a truly impressive array of ramens and Pocky. So I'll just hold my tongue and sit here, envious that my son got to go and I didn't.

More things Seattleites do in the rain: run a 6k race/excuse to drink alcohol in the morning. Well, I at least participated in the running portion of the festivities (entry into the beer garden being severely hampered by kids-in-tow), along with about 13,000 other people. Although, with that many people packed elbow to elbow, "running" is really not a terribly accurate description. Another thing, apparently, at least one Seattleite does, is run the first portion of the race with a Starbucks cup, then gingerly places it (to "grab on the way back") on the concrete barrier separating the two directions of the roadway, which when not functioning as a footpath for a hoard of green-clad fitness/beer nuts, is an arterial highway cutting through town. I made do with water. Chip time: 38:17.

One of the many things that endears me to Seattle: nothing stops for the rain. SFD Station #38 held its Grand Opening this morning, and it seems every pre-teen in its service area showed up. Kids snaked around the station, lined up in the rain to poke at all the gadgetry in a working engine, but stomping around in their galoshes (many of them fire fighter themed) in the meantime. Bear was content to just climb onto the back of the truck and sneak into other parents' shots of their own children playing on the back of a firetruck.