Summer Magic

Summer vacations were a magical time for me when I was growing up. I’ve never forgotten that feeling of immense freedom as I got off the school bus for the last time at the end the school year. The end of summer and the start of the next school year was nothing but a faint thought in my mind, if it even was there at all.

My summer-mind was always a whirlwind of all the things I had plans to do. In addition to the activities that just about every boy does during his summer vacation (which, other than getting scrapes and grass stains, is testing the limits of his mother’s patience), my parents always packed my sisters and I up in the car to go camping for a week or two.

Whenever I think about my childhood, the memories I have about camping are some of the best ones I have.We made tie-died t-shirts and competed in sand sculpture contests. We ate countless hot dogs and hamburgers. We cooked pizza’s over the campfire in my great-grandfather’s unique campfire oven. We got sunburns and bug bites but miraculously avoided poison ivy. We got rained on and nearly flooded out, and learned the hard way about the benefit of properly hung tarpaulins. We went fishing and often caught more trees than fish. We went swimming until our fingers wrinkled and learned how to dive off the dock. We went canoeing and paddle-boating, and watched our mother water-ski that one time. We played board games and seemingly endless rounds of Twenty Questions by the campfire at night. We made s’mores and got scolded for making torches out of flaming marshmallows. We found that loud, snoring neighbors makes for a late-night giggle-fest.

As my sisters and I grew older, we went camping less and less as our summer schedules filled up with extracurricular activities and summer jobs. I was lucky enough to find a woman who loves camping as much as I do, and we have spent many nights under the stars. We even went camping for our honeymoon. I hope you’ve had a good time making memories with your family, MIT Mommy.

I look forward to hearing all about them when you come back.

Badass Geek

My wireless, analog laptop

Most people simply call it a journal.

This is the first page. As you can see, it is blank sheet of paper. I am wondering what it will say.

I know we all write our own stories. We make decisions. We go places. We fall in love. But, I have to admit that I often feel that the stories write themselves and I am merely an actor in them. Thoughts and outlines bounce around in my mind throughout the day. Even when I have my entire post written in my head, the ending occasionally surprises me.

I see it differently on paper.

In a few moments, we depart for the Great American West – Yellowstone, Grand Tetons, Canyonlands, Rocky Mountains. For 24 days, we will live in our 26-foot box, with the largest backyard in America.

We have a basic itinerary. We have some reservations, and a list of must-sees and must-dos, and festival dates. My husband and I have seen many of these places before. The kids will see it fresh. They will remember a little bit. They will read about it later.

Of course, it will look different on paper.

I am desperately pleased to have the opportunity to spend 24 days with my family. Everyone seems to struggle finding the time to slow down, and our family is no different. We wonder how to slow down: how to savor life just a little bit more, how to say what we want to say and not forget to say the little things, or spend so much time on the little things that the big things go undone.

When I need to remember, I write it down on paper.

And so, we leave behind the big things and the little things and hope to see the forest for the trees. I look forward to seeing Yellowstone, Grand Tetons, Canyonlands, and the Rocky Mountains. I do. They are beautiful places – the air cleans my body and the endless stars refresh my mind. I also hope to look back and see Cleveland from a distance. I’ll see my house without noticing the cracked windowsill. I will see a few pieces of precious childhood artwork and remember that the rest of the pile is trash. I will see the beautiful connections I have made with friends and forgive my intended-but-forgotten playdates.

I will start fresh, with a clean sheet of paper.

The thought of leaving my blog (and my friend’s blogs) saddened me two weeks ago. For another few days, I wondered how I make something useful from my disappointment. I know the world will not stop turning if I am not here. (Tom will tell you that the magnetic fields won’t change either.) If I ever believe that my writing is more interesting than listening to my friends, the loss will certainly be all mine.

A friend offered to guest blog. The blog should be fun, never a source of sadness or stress. I hesitated to take her offer, only because I wouldn't be around for weeks - surely traffic would be low.

And then I listened to her a little closer (and maybe even heard what she was trying to say). After all, isn’t ‘talk less and listen more’ part of slowing down and savoring life?

I will talk less and listen more.

I have invited ten incredible people to blog for me over the next 24 days. They all fit into my life like a crazy-quilt, beautiful fully-stitched, in a way you may never have expected. They range in age from 12 to 70. They live from coast to coast. They are professional writers and childhood friends. I want to listen to what they have to say. I hope you enjoy them too.

And while you enjoy listening, I will be living something new – starting with that first blank sheet of paper.