Monday, August 29, 2005

I have never understood how my house can get so messy as the result of a camping trip that takes place 200 miles away, but so it is. So with one measly day off this week to clean and the Sharebear coming tomorrow, what do I do? Blog, of course.

Just wanted to quickly say that Nutmeg had a great time in Yosemite this weekend and didn't get snatched by a mountain lion. We did see a car broken into by a bear though (we saw the car after, not during) and it was not a pretty sight. You know, I never realized our neighborhood meth heads were such considerate, gentle souls until I compared the way they break into a car to the way a grizzly does it.

Anyway, it Nutmeg got so, so dirty this weekend. And it was a time of many firsts for her. She rode in her car seat facing forward for the first time. She barfed in it facing forward for the first time, allowing her to reach the front seat with her Gerber Step 2 Beef and Barley for the first time as well.

Nutmeg has a friend already, little Eliot, but this weekend she made her own friend without my intervention for the first time. A 3-year-old girl who was camping next door to us came over and introduced herself, asked rather formally, "Will you be my friend?" and took Nutmeg's silence as a yes. Together they wandered the camp site, played with the big downed tree, and generally occupied each other so their moms could get dinner made. It was awesome and made me kind of wish we always lived in a big open area so neighborhood kids could wander into my kitchen and take over childcare duties for me.

As you can see from the pictures below, Nutmeg rode in the backpack for a couple of hot, dusty hikes. At the end of one, she bathed in an almost-dried out Mirror Lake. At the end of the other, she bathed in the icy Emerald Pool, where no swimming or wading is allowed but everyone -- even 1-year-olds! -- does it anyway because you just climbed part of a mountain, it's hot and dusty, and you're standing in front of an icy, peaceful looking pool in a mountain stream. What would you do? Anyway, Nutmeg just went in about two centimeters of water on a big, flat rock, so she was only barely breaking the rules.

Also, when Nutmeg spilled orange juice all over herself at the campsite, making it necessary for us to keep her clothes in the bear box all night, she came out with a new interjection: "Holy crap!"

Finally, I have for you a fascinating article from The Chronicle about choosing an elementary school in San Francisco, and the web of guilt, financial penury and fear facing educated parents as they pit their belief in public education against reality.


Bert said...

holy crap! a girl after my own heart. nutmeg rocks the house!

Anonymous said...

Hi there. Dave recently found your blog. Is that weird? He found it through Erik's site, and I have no idea how he found that.

I love the bit about Nutmeg's new friend. It would be so amazing to live in a neighborhood where the kids all play outside together.

'Holy crap' isn't too bad. I recently, uh, dropped the f bomb in the car with Elliott and I heard a disturbingly similar sounding word coming from the back seat. I was furiously saying: puck, tuck! Run amuck!