HAPPY BIRTHDAY EDEN! YOU'RE ONE!

Get ready to see pictures of a seriously adorable one year old. No, really. Are you ready??

Eden has this smile that can light up an entire room - if she happens to be looking at you while she is flashing one of them smiles, you feel like you are the best person on earth. I held this little gem of a baby when she was first born, and that probably has something to do with how thrilling it is to witness her growing from a newborn babe into a little tot who is now walking around, making her opinions known and flashing that one thousand watt smile everywhere she goes.

Eden's mom, Laura, had a little get together last week to hurrah Eden's one year mark, and it was the loveliest afternoon of grownups and kids hanging out in the backyard drinking lemonade, splashing around in the baby pool and soaking in the summer.

DOGWOOD DELL FESTIVAL OF THE ARTS AND THE CITY DANCE THEATRE

This week, I'm thinking about the children that were on the mountain in northern Iraq. I've read a few articles (this article last week, this one and this one as of yesterday) and then the other day I heard a journalist reporting from that area specifically about the children who were hungry and dehydrated. It's a terrible situation. And there are so many more terrible situations happening around the world where children are trapped, hungry, thirsty, cold, or without proper care. I'm not thinking about the political aspects of these situations, at least not this week. This week I'm thinking about how there are children who are born into a situation where they can't get water and how my daughter has been born into a place where clean water is plentiful and where she is so well cared for. I have these thoughts often as I watch my daughter grow - that she is so very lucky. Yes, I use that term tentatively, and also avoid using words like "blessed" for this sort of thing, because by implication does that mean those others aren't? I don't want to assign holier-than-thou descriptors to this, I want to acknowledge what is, and then point to what my reaction should be. In that, I'm not going to be stuck on the why, but the how; as in, how should I respond to this? 

Last weekend, my mom, Sloane and I went to one of the concert series in Dogwood Dell Festival of the Arts (free concerts all summer long!) to watch a performance by Richmond's City Dance Theatre. Taking Sloane to watch a dance performance or a music show or to see paintings by the masters makes me feel like I am handing her magic powers.  I hope she loves these things too and that it fills her up like it does me.  That night, she was entranced by the dancers. Once the show started, she sat there for the next hour, captivated.  I spent just as much time watching her face as I did watching the dances. 

And these girls of the City Dance Theater were so wonderful and earnest in their movements. Their dances and songs told the stories of American slavery, and they portrayed it beautifully, heart-achingly. Sloane obviously can't grasp the gravity of the themes right now, but I was struck by how important it is that she gets to be exposed to an expression of something real and difficult that has happened in our world, communicated in a beautiful way.  In addition to introducing her to the beauty and the magic of this world, I want to walk her through the realities of this place. Slowly, in bits and pieces, but also starkly and truthfully. 

So I'm still thinking about the 'how', especially because I have this beautiful spirit and she is going to face all these things someday too. I'm thinking about what I will tell her, and I think I'll say: Let's give of our resources, and let's stay mindful. Let's get lost in thought and lost in prayer about what is happening in the world. Let's discuss. Let's dance.  Let's enjoy, express and be responsible. I'm still figuring things out too, I will say, but I will tell her that there is a purpose and a joy in clinging to a higher plan.  I will tell her that gratitude helps quell cynicism and bears hope. 

SWEET CORN POLENTA WITH EGGPLANT SAUCE

I had one of those days today where I felt like I was chewed up and spit out. You won, Wednesday, you won! I yelled up into the sky as I walked out of the office.

Do you know what is excellent for a woe-is-me kind of day?

Polenta, apparently. But not just any kind of polenta. Polenta made from scratch, from fresh corn, and made according to Yotam Ottolenghi's instructions.  I have been wanting to make this because one, it sounds delicious and two, I will do anything Yotam tells me to do. Yotam Ottolenghi has this way with vegetables and spices that makes me want to get in it every time (more lauding here), and this was one way to do it.

Polenta made fresh like this is a thing unto its own, so try it, if you're in the least bit interested. Even though it may initially seems like a drawn out process, it's quite doable. The hardest part is scraping the kernels off the corn, and the rest is easy.  Then you end up with warm, creamy, sweet, delicious comfort porridge to stuff into your weary body.

I followed this up with a much needed conversation with my parents, which fills me up in different kind of way, and now I'm sipping on a delicious bourbon & fuji apple cocktail to be lulled into sleep.  So maybe you don't win after all, Wednesday.

And for a bonus behind the scenes look:

Sloane watched me taking photos of the food and decided to follow suit by snapping some pictures of her own. Her camera is a yellow block.

WHEN SATURDAY LOOKS LIKE A FARMERS MARKET AND SMOOTHIES

I have a thing for farmers markets.  I have even more of a thing for it when my mom and daughter are going with me. All three of us can't get enough of a good market, so we were positively gleeful about spending Saturday morning roaming the South of the James market. 

If you happen to be one and a half feet tall, 38 inches to be exact (exact being a loose operative word)(and I know this because I laid her down on the floor one time and measured her with a tape measure. she looked confused but she went with it), you are at the appropriate height to get the best views of all the dogs that come to the market, and there are many. That was probably her favorite thing about the morning, that and getting to sample the fruit from different vendors. She pointed out every dog and begged to be allowed to pet them, "I touch them?" she would implore. 

And Sloane joyfully petting the baby goat was enough to make me consider getting a baby goat as pet. Watch out rusty! 

My mom has this enthusiasm for fresh vegetables and fruit that can be likened to an art critic's enthusiasm for a masterfully painted piece. It feels like a real treasure hunt, walking around the market with her. 'Look at that glorious eggplant!', we'll shout, and think of what we'll do with it (eggplant lasagna). And I can't help thinking, seeing the colors and abundance and feeling the warm morning air, that summer wins. 

  

And later that afternoon, after a nap, the girls ventured out again. This time to Cary Town and we stayed long enough to each finish a smoothie and get smothered in sun beams.