Ford and Sawyer, age ten, are having the most wonderful, old-fashioned summer childhood--even now in late October. They live on a tree-shaded street in the Tarrytown area on a block with lots of children approximately the same age. The boys disappear sometime in the morning, come back occasionally, often with a group in tow, and they all work at computers or the X-box, and then they disappear again. (Sometimes it's a bit of a smelly crew that tramps through the house). Megan is grateful to have them comfortable in her home. Her only restriction: the boys have to be home before dark. Sometimes when there's a bunch of children in the house it gets fairly noisy--I simply take my hearing aids out.
Brandon, my son-in-law, is many things, including computer consultant, bibliophile, and avid football fan. So football games are on the TV all weekend--there go those hearing aids again. Brandon's parents were there for the birthday, and he and his dad spent a lot of time watching football. The rest of us kind of came and went.
Megan's best friend from law school, of whom I'm very fond, was also there--so there was a houseful, and yes, it got very quiet if everybody happened to be gone...and very noisy if everyone was there.
Megan is perhaps my most joyful child. Since childhood, she has been filled with joie de vivre--my parents used to laugh that she was so enthusiastic about everything, even brushing her teeth, that she was in danger of popping them right out of her head. Today Megan delights in her boys, in making pots of soup and chocolate cake (she did both Saturday) and in being generally happy and a bit goofy. She is in some ways my total opposite--she never plans ahead. Sunday night about five she announced everyone was going to the bookstore and when they came home she'd think about dinner--we had wonderful hamburgers but no tomato or lettuce, so some of us put our spinach salad on our burgers--quite good.
Right: Megan wearing onion goggles, specially designed to keep you from crying while chopping onions.