1. We’re in recovery-from-relaxing-on-vacation mode over here, compounded with Lucia’s grandparents withdrawal/”Where Are the People Who Love Me and Deflected All My Meltdowns for Five Days” syndrome. On his way to the shower, Luke dropped her off, screaming, in our bed. Of course, she woke up her baby brother nestled on my other side, who also went from 0 to 60, face contorted in rage over having his dreams shattered by Lucia’s shrieks for…something. “Eventually, you’re just going to have to get out of bed,” Luke advised from the bathroom as I contemplated which screaming little person I could avoid rolling over more easily. Truly an auspicious start to our day.
2. So off to the library we went. Our happy place, usually. One of the moms said I looked “well-rested,” to which I could barely respond. It’s all perspective, I guess? If by “well-rested” she meant, “Your eyeballs don’t look like they’re going to fall out this week”?
3. But anyways, yes, vacation. We spent about four days lounging at a friend’s family’s cottage in Martha’s Vineyard where, other than being a slave to a Very Hungry Three-Month-Old every night, I pretty much…did nothing. It was great.
4. At the risk of sounding utterly pretentious, I’ve decided I really like “The Vineyard.” This was our second time at the cottage, and both visits were timed at the very beginning or end of the tourist season, so while it’s never been warm enough to hit the beach, we also weren’t swarmed with fellow visitors fresh from the ferry. Relaxing porch + stark, natural beauty + window shopping among the rich and richer + best clam chowder ever while creepily taking pictures of the fisherman down the dock … = pretty good vacation spot, in my opinion.
5. We saw The Ghost Writer a few months ago, so more than a couple times while driving through the rain on an empty, beach-side road I tried out lame jokes about pretending to track down reclusive islanders and blow open intelligence secrets while being chased down by assassins. Luke humored me.
7. And, just to wrap up these Quick Takes in truly tasteless form, I offer you this:
…Lest Kelly thinks she has a monopoly on household objects that defy all categorization other than “What the &!%* and why does it have boobs.” 😉
The story, in short, is that I got this lamp in 2005 from the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul — probably about halfway through a grueling 10-day trek from Austria to Turkey and back again via boat, bus and train. We all have stories that start with, “It seemed a good idea at the time,” right? I think by that point, we — myself and the other girl in our group … we felt pretty chummy by the time we emerged from the Turkish Bathstogether — were so enamored over the fact that we were being served tea in a bazaar that anything the shop-owner threw at us sounded simply … magical? The souvenir to beat all souvenirs? Just the thing to top off our non-existent canopy beds back in our rooms in Austria? Can’t tell ya.
So now I have a plastic red lamp flanked by naked angels that looks suspiciously like a tabernacle light, minus, well, you know. It did make an appearance in the room I shared with Claire our senior year, where (oh FUS) many passing students did ask with concern why we had a tabernacle lamp hanging on our wall, but since then I haven’t a clue what to do with it. And yet, in all the houseld purges and Goodwill hauls I’ve undertaken, I’ve spared the Turkish lamp…because it came from a BAZAAR. And other than this little biker babe,
that’s one of the coolest things I’ve got going for me right now.