214/365 Missouri Trick

That's what a school parent called this brief thaw. We call the pretty summer days in October "Indian Summer" although maybe we don't call it that anymore...but I don't think there's a term for the sudden warm up in the late winter that is inevitably followed by another cold snap, usually a bitter one, too, even if it's short-lived. We dropped off Delia after a play-date with Daisy the other night and her dad called it the Missouri Trick. So that's what I'm calling it now.

But what a trick it's turned for us. All the snow is gone. Kids have played outside every night this week, running and scootering and pulling babies in the wagons. It's like old times, really, all of us sitting on the stoops and chatting. Not that "old times" really means anything--we were doing this last summer, too, but it was so hot that it didn't last as long or start as early in the day.

I get home from a conference with Fiona's lovely teacher on Friday, about 4 o'clock, and Bree is sitting on her steps. She gets up and runs over to our car because she's so happy Fiona is home. But Fiona isn't home--she went to a friend's house. I tell Bree I'm sorry, that both girls will be home about 5:30. Disappointed, she plays with little kids until Iris gets home and joins her.

But 5:30 rolls around, the car pulls up and drops off my girls, and like magnets, Fiona and Bree gravitate toward one another and head off to play. Yay.

And Bonnie Dee and her family came down, too, so Daisy wasn't a tagalong. She joined Bonnie Dee in whatever drama they created out of the air. And Billy yelled at the new little boy who moved in across the street. See, all cars belong to Billy. As Jake put it, "Billy acknowledges personal property rights as long as he's the owner."

I'm going to be smacked hard by this trick. St. Pat's Day will probably be a high of 40 with sleet. Bah.

213/365 The Other Neighborhood Kerfuffle

"Have you been reading on the neighborhood list?" Zelda asks while we watch kids run and bike and scooter up and down the sidewalk during this "Missouri Trick" of a warm February week. I thought she was talking about the nearby high school's plan to tear down one of their buildings. So I agree before I really know--I don't get those emails because that mailing list makes me crazy.

"About the drum line?" she encourages. No. I shake my head, puzzled.

"Well, there's a man named Stan Jarvis on that list, and I think Len knows him, and now I think I don't like him very much."

"What, because Len knows him?" Valerie catches only part of the conversation.

"No!" Zelda corrects. "Don't start rumors!" And we all laugh before Zelda continues. "No. From what he posted. The drum line, you know, have you heard them?"

"Oh, the drum line?" asks Jen.

"Yeah, the drum line," Zelda confirms again. "And this Stan Jarvis posted on the list that they were right outside his house and all through dinner and putting his kids to bed and they were highly annoying and he called the police TWICE!"

I try to envision what my response would be to a drum line practicing outside my house. Ah, city life.

"He really could have talked to them. The police let him know that they had a permit until 9 o'clock."

"That's amazing," I say, stunned.

"I know!" Zelda agrees. And now my whole inbox is jam-packed with messages about the drum line, about Stan Jarvis' response, about how so many neighbors were up in arms about, yup, African-American teens hanging out on the corners causing trouble."

"It's hard to break into houses when you're practicing in a drum line," Jake points out.

"Exactly," Zelda agrees.

"I mean, though," I try, "if it were outside my house every night or something? That would be a bit much."

"But would you call the police?" she asks.

I wouldn't, no. "No. I think I'd talk to them."

"Unless it was like," Valerie cuts in, pretending to play a drum, "Can't hear you! What? Can't HEAR YOU!"

212/365 Hopes Dashed: Daisy's Life

Daisy and Fiona ran home yesterday evening. Eliza had invited them both to stay the night! Daisy was old enough, the three had decided, and it was going to be a spontaneous slumber party. Jake got some dinner together and they waited for the confirmation phone call.

It came...with no mention of Daisy. Eliza invited Fiona to stay the night. Only.

Daisy was crushed. Absolutely crushed. Eliza wanted Fiona over right away--they were going to order pizza--but Jake was smart and told Eliza that we were going to talk as a family. (When I say "we" I don't mean it. I wasn't there--I was at the cat trivia night). Fiona was torn, Daisy was crushed. So hard.

Jake called Gretchen and explained the situation. Eliza hadn't even mentioned Daisy when she'd talked to Nick and Gretchen. Oops. Gretchen apologized, said Daisy would be welcome another night, and said she'd call back.

Eliza called back. Apologized. Daisy was welcome to come over and play until bedtime. Jake offered to watch a movie and make popcorn, too, instead...Daisy went with the playtime. She came home around 9:15 and went to bed ok.

I got home from the trivia night and got immediately on Facebook to find Delia's mom's page. Sent her a message. Can Delia come play this week? She wrote back immediately: Wednesday would be great. Whew.

Daisy will be fine. But it's a lot of disappointment when you're the little sister.

211/365 Melt

It's melting.

The north side of the street is covered in ice and snow. The street has two tracks, like skis, down the center. But my yard actually has some dead grass showing through.

I hate this. I love spring, I love the crocus and the hopeful silly daffodils and the fresh wet smell and feel to the air. But I hate the thaw. I hate the dead leaves and grass and dirty nasty crusts of ice and grime.

I sit on the stoop with Zelda and Travis, watching as Auggie, in shorts and flip-flops, picks up a handful of old crusty snow. And eats it.

210/365 A Winter's Winter

I'm stealing the title from Indigo Bunting. Because when she said it, I thought to myself, "that's exactly what it's been."

In St. Louis, we don't always have true winters. Sure, it gets cold, we usually have a bit of snow and a bit of ice and some warm January days when you think maybe you could get the shorts out...and then two days later it's back in the parka you go. My friend Mary from Kalamazoo says that's the problem with St. Louis winters. You never really embrace them--they are hesitant, just out of reach. In Michigan, or Chicago, or Vermont, you hunker down and settle into the idea of winter. Not here. We keep trying on spring for size or wistfully looking back to autumn.

Not this winter.

I don't know what our snowfall totals have been but they are above average. Way above average. When I walk across my front yard, where of course there is snow, I don't sink because there's also 3 inches of sleet there. Do I still have grass? I don't know.

It is also cold. Today's high is 17 and getting down into low single digits tonight. This has been pretty typical: snow once a week and some other minor precipitation and a cold snap. I miss the St. Louis standard of snow on Monday gone by Wednesday.

The street is a sheet of ice. The kids aren't playing outside anymore. They are snow fatigued. We've sledded and built snowmen and forts and taken photos and gone to the park.

We're done.

Sunday's high claims to be 50. I'll believe it when I see it but I hope I hope I hope.

209/365 Missed You

"You keep saying that!" I catch Fiona saying to Bree as they walk into Zelda's kitchen.

"Fiona, be nice," I remind her. Good advice.

"I was just saying I missed you," Bree says.

"She did," Zelda says to me.

"Especially be nice," I tell Fiona again.

208/365 Easing Back In

Went to Florida. Came home.

First stop: Travis and Zelda's house for a superbowl party. Great chili, even better shrimp and blue cheese garlic bread, and while I'm sure there was good beer, I had some pink lemonade.

We wound up playing mah jongg, just a three-hand game with Zelda, Gretchen, and me. Tara sat and chatted but didn't play. We used 2006 cards which is fun to mix it up. And talk ranged from Irish dance to school choice to Bridgett Putting Her Foot In Her Mouth. Yup. I was home in St. Louis for mere moments and managed to trip over myself. Badly. I've already apologized. But I've felt like a total ass all day. School choice. Always a tricky subject and I let myself get a little more flippant than even my usual bitchy self. And Zelda got quiet and the conversation died. I didn't catch it at first--it was later, once I was on my way home with the girls (Daisy was fine, but Fiona was crying because she wanted to stay to the end of the football game. Which she wasn't watching, of course).

It's hard sometimes for me, for anyone, probably, but especially for me, to watch my mouth. It's always how I get in trouble. There's no way I'm going to steal a car or commit adultery. But I'm going to open my mouth and that's when it happens. Crap.

So now I get to ease back in in several different ways.