12.12.12

Frances tells us that today, the twelfth day of the twelfth month of the twelfth year of the twenty-first century, at 12:12 pm and 12 seconds, her entire class let out a bit whoop of happy amazement. Then it was 12:12 and 13 seconds and they got back to second grade business.

I do think she may always remember that moment. It is the kind of thrilling stuff that drills indelibly into a seven year old's brain. At dinner tonight she earnestly pitied her poor baby sister who will join us in 2013, long after the possibility of such magical dates has expired, at least for their lifetimes.

It seemed like a fine day to share some of our latest favorite things. And so, in no particular order, I present to you a snapshot of what is bringing color and depth to our lives on this oh-so-momentous date:

1. Arcadia. I find this novel captivating. It pains me to put it down, which I sadly must do often. I wept through the first chapters as sensitive, mystical little Bit, the protagonist, makes his way on a commune in upstate New York. The prose is perfect, and Groff - with amazing accuracy - captures a child's magical understanding of events (including the severe depression that renders Bit's mother unreachable - particularly heart-wrenching for this pregnant mother who has recently returned to clinical work).

2. Daniel Handler on Fresh Air. A really and truly delightful conversation. Could he and Terry have hit it off any better? I listened at the gym and laughed out loud far too often, which was sort of embarrassing.

3. A sincere longing for open time to mosey into holiday projects with the kids. Until the end of next week though, we are on our regular schedule, in which the downtime together that I am craving seems in short supply. So stringing popcorn, making ornaments, and rolling pinecones in peanut butter and birdseed will have to wait.

4. The return of granola. I haven't made it since I became pregnant, which would have been, oh my goodness, some twenty-nine weeks ago. My family has gone without for a long time. Maybe it's some kind of third trimester-induced desire to nurture, but I couldn't stand it for a minute longer today and finally filled the jar back up just before Gabriel and I went to pick up Frances. (My simple bare bones recipe is here).

5. Sufjan Stevens' Songs for Christmas. This music has become forever associated with the season for me (some of the songs are achingly, transcendently beautiful - listen to his original Sister Winter sometime) and now I hear he has a new box set of Christmas songs called Silver & Gold. Oh my. I don't think we can wait for Christmas morning, because I imagine these are songs best spooled out slowly over days...in the meantime though the same old melodies are feeding my soul, and helped give me patience as I put the lights up on our fussy tree this afternoon.

6. The return of the Spy Network.

The children found their old box, folded and creased and - at least I thought - rendered unrecognizable by the ravages of life in the garage over the past few months. But no. An innocent venture in search of a hammer led to a fantastic discovery: Look, it's the Spy Network!! Then before I knew it the two of them were lugging it through the kitchen and down to the playroom, cleaning it out, posting new rules, and placing important spy items inside: my kitchen scissors, tape, a telescope (really? from where?), and the big heavy red dictionary. Why does Frances need the dictionary, you ask? Why, because it has morse code in it, of course.

7. Fresh cranberries. Fold them into nearly any baked good and it will be that much better, tart and fresh. Seriously. I made banana buttermilk cranberry muffins for Mike's last classes earlier in the week (I am still feeling rather proud of the nice gesture) and happily there were extras for us.


Now. Will you tell me what is floating your boat today?