I am sorry -- to the handful of you who read this -- that I haven't written in so long. I got so busy in the early part of August, both planning for Shmoo's birthday and preparing for our family trip. We just got back early this week, and I'm catching up with email and work and everything. I owe this blog several entries by now...

I have thought often of the things I'd like to write about here. Since I know this is not a blog that many people read, my original goals ("Change the world!") have to be altered some for the purposes of being realistic. Why am I writing this? Who is it for? Obviously, it is now and has mostly been for me, to help me digest and process my experiences, cement my philosophies, and explore my soul. To that end, this is really a journal. That's ok -- blogging can be more, and it can be different things, but I suppose this is really an online journal. To the extent that it sometimes serves other purposes, like pushing a political agenda or sharing information about an event, it transcends "journaling," but those things are definitely secondary purposes. They're here because they mean something to me.

So, now to think: what to write about first? For today, a list of things I don't want to forget about...and a preview of coming attractions for whomever DOES read this!

• We were in Alaska for our family vacation. It was, as we expected and hoped, breathtakingly beautiful. I want to remember to write about my feelings of responsibility to show that kind of beauty to my children more often...so look soon for a blog entry on that.
• I am missing my more writerly life, inner and outer. How can I carve out the space for it? I might not blog about that here anytime soon...but eventually...
• My Doodlebug starts kindergarten in two weeks. I have so many feelings about it -- hopes for her, hopes for me and for the school and community we're entering, emotions surrounding her transition to having a private world away from me. There's a lot to think about it, and write. That entry is surely coming.
• While we were traveling, I read Al Franken's book "The Truth, With Jokes." Whenever I read his writing, I feel energized and motivated to get involved in political activism again...but so far, I've really failed to do that in any organized way. What is stopping me, and the millions of others who obviously have opinions but put little muscle behind them?
  
• Another goal I had when I started writing here was something like "figure out what to do with the rest of my life." Well, I've become very comfortable with the lifestyle of part-time consulting lately, and my plans to consider library school are starting to sound like plans-for-the-sake-of-having-plans. So, what to do? I need to ask myself a question I asked in a very early Zaadz entry: does work have to be fulfilling?

All that, and more, coming your way...eventually!

When Little Shmoo was diagnosed with double aortic arch, and she was waiting for surgery for it, True and I scoured the web for information on the condition. It was fairly rare, but the best surgeon in the country for her condition happened to be here in Chicago. We felt very lucky that we didn't have to fly out of town -- or the country -- to ensure the best care for her.

During the two week wait for the surgery, my mother happened to mention the name of the condition to someone at the school where she taught. That person remembered that another woman at the school had a granddaughter who had some kind of cardiovascular surgery in Chicago, so my mom went to talk with her.

It turned out that not only had that woman's granddaughter had cardiovascular surgery in Chicago, and not only had it been with the same surgeon who would be operating on Little Shmoo, and not only had it been at the same hospital, but it had been the SAME SURGERY. The same condition. In 2006, two of these surgeries were performed in Chicago -- one on Little Shmoo, and one on this other child.

We had a teary conversation on the phone with the parents of this child. It turned out they lived less than five miles away, and I'd had a crush on the dad when we were in high school (but he didn't know me!). They were able to tell us what to expect not just medically, but also about the hospital and the staff and the recovery. It was wonderful to have the chance to talk with someone who'd just been through it.

Seven or eight months later, we were looking for houses in Evanston and got the chance to go to a house our realtor said was difficult to get into, since the family who lived there had two kids and often couldn't show it. We walked inside and were instantly charmed by it, though it wasn't really our aesthetic. It was also a little small for us, but there was a letter on the table from the owners of the house, telling potential buyers about the neighborhood and how much they'd enjoyed living there -- they had to move to be closer to work. It was signed with their names...

...and it was the couple who had talked to us before Shmoo's surgery.

How on earth could I pick just one "most delicious thing?"

I'm with everyone else on the peaches -- just a couple of weeks ago, we got peaches at Pike Street Market in Seattle. They were as big as softballs, and so juicy we had to slice them for the kids to eat. It was an explosion of sweet, juicy peachiness!

Also, though...I love dark chocolate covered almonds, dusted in cocoa. Bitter and sweet and dense and hearty...ahhhhhhh...

Oh yes, and there's peanut butter and chocolate together, almost any old way. It doesn't get more comforting than that.

And let's not forget pizza with black olives! It's not the same since I gave up dairy, but oh boy, the pizza from BubaMara's in Chicago, dripping with cheese and olives and sometimes straw mushrooms, so greasy it leaves stains on the table BENEATH the box, was the best pizza ever.

And there's fresh berries of any kind. And really good cantaloupe. And cold slices of red bell pepper, dipped in garlicky hummus. And my all time favorite food in the world, chocolate chip cookies. The best ones come from the bakery in Foodlife, a restaurant in the basement of Water Tower Place in Chicago.

Just one "most delicious?" No way!

Our family trip to Alaska was in the form of a big, hulking, luxury cruise. I had never been on a cruise, and didn't know what to expect, but for various reasons, I found myself waking up on the morning of August 13 in a gigantic floating resort. I opened my eyes and pushed aside the curtains over the porthole above our bed, and this is what I saw out the window:

It was stunning. My state of mind, every time I watched these mountains go by, or stared at rippling water, or watched birds swoop down to the water, went from travel-stress to vacation-calm. To say the view was stunning is an understatement.

Doodlebug climbed into the window porthole with me one morning as we passed by a series of islands covered in trees. I said to her, "You know, Doodlebug, no people live on those islands. It's just plants and trees and animals and bugs. No people at all." She said, "Mommy, you have GOT to be kidding me."

Yes, that's really what she said!

When I assured her that I was serious, it made me realize how little of that kind of space I've shown her in her five years. I am happy to be raising my children in an urban environment. I like people -- a lot -- and want to have my family in a bustling community. Country life would not work for me. That said, I grew up in a neighborhood on a nature conservancy, and had constant access to woods, beaches, and hiking paths. There were quiet places for me to go, with no people, all the time. Doodlebug literally could not conceive of such a thing, and that's not right. We have to work on that -- and more than once every five years!

One day of the cruise was spent with the boat just barely moving through Glacier Bay. National Park Rangers had boarded the boat in the night and made announcements over the loudspeakers to point out points of reference. True and I spent hours on deck taking pictures and being blown away by the site of these mountains of ice, like this one:

It was breathtaking, but overshadowed some by this distressing site I'd seen earlier in the trip, in Juneau:

The pink flowers and pine trees in front of the white (which is a glacier), were, according to our guide, covered in that same glacier 100 years ago. I put this picture in an online photo album and wrote a caption to that effect, and a friend of mine wrote to me that "this was like an advertisement saying 'come visit Alaska - before it melts!'"

Between my daughter not realizing that sometimes nature creates beauty not designed for humans, and my seeing glacial disintegration up close, I realize that we need to dedicate more time to being amidst natural beauty. It's something that I haven't given my children enough yet -- and something I realize I need to give to myself again.