This. I’ve read a short story in the New Yorker, and seen the movie. But a whole book? Yes please. Especially after seeing the website.
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Happy fourth everyone — the most eponymous holiday of the year! Our perfect summer day so far: Zoe and Lucy have been happily playing in the bathtub for almost an hour — I think all their stuffed animals are getting a bath. Bob has just finished mowing the lawn, and all our windows are open. I have just finished reorganizing my dresser, completing the purging of all non-summer clothes. Later, we’re going to the pool. Then we’re going to a cookout. Then, fireworks. Zoe and Lucy’s first ever. With Zoe and Lucy exhausted from camp each day, I’m not optimistic…
So back a while ago, after I graduated from college, I worked at Club Med for a year. I was in the Turks and Caicos Islands, which, at the time, nobody had ever heard of, myself included. During the summer months, it rained a little bit every day. Short, punishing rains that seemed to disappear before they even got started. When I was a kid, my dad used to tell me great stories about growing up in Miami Beach. One of my favorites was the one about how it would rain in the afternoon there, so quick and out-of-nowhere that…
At the beginning of June we took our annual trip driving up and down the East coast to Salisbury, Ct. Unlike all our previous trips it was summer. Bob’s parents live on a lake, and with this trip we were able to spend pretty much all of our time there. And like last year’s trip, I would call it a lovely success. Just lovely. Here are some pictures: Zoe and Lucy walking down to the lake, armed with wetsuits and bread for the fish. Lucy’s got a stick. Mount Everett, Mass. in the background. The place Bob grew up is…
FMV is back this week after a brief hiatus due to travel. (Exciting travel report coming soon.) Welcome back FMV! In keeping with the theme of late, I’m going to share with you a video I found on sk*rt. What? You haven’t heard about sk*rt yet? Go now. Then come back. We’ll wait. Dum-de-dum-de-dum. {Shuffle shuffle} Well. We don’t really have to wait right? They’re probably playing on sk*rt and won’t be back for a while. They can catch up on today’s video whenever they get back, right? Shall we on with the show? Yes, on with the show. As…
So sk*rt? Going crazy. Thanks to all of you and everyone you’ve told and all those other people. Thanks y’all! Then? On Tuesday, sk*rt got dugg on digg. Things moved slowly all day, thankfully, but then that night? It went CRAZY. By the time I shut my computer off at 4:30 in the morning, we had made it to the front page, the post had 413 diggs and sk*rt had honorably suffered the digg effect, which means our little site was shut down due to an overdose of traffic. We knew something like this was going to happen given the…
Exactly four months ago today, while the men of the country were watching the Super Bowl, and the women were watching the Super Bowl commercials, I was on the phone with three bloggers — Gabrielle, Laura, and Rebecca — and we were talking about how cool it would be if there were one spot online where we could find a variety of excellence. A portal of cool. Something like Digg, but with stories aimed less at cute techie boys and more at, well, us. Because although Digg is clearly brilliant, thirtysomething moms and twentysomething hipster girls are just not their…
Ten Second Films is a digital video competition in which all sumbissions must be exactly 10 seconds long. They received 1000 submissions (that’s 10,000 seconds total — a little under 3 hours = 1 regular film!), narrowed it down to 200 finalists, then chose 3 winners. The competition reminds me of Hemingway’s reputed 6-word short story (which he is said to have called his best work): For sale: baby shoes. Never worn. Like that evocative story, a good 10 second film must rely on creating a mood to imply the rest of the story. The 3 winning videos do just…
Dear Zoe and Lucy, Tonight you graduated from Preschool. Gay-Gay and Pop, Uncle Mike and Aunt Brooke, Great Aunt Ruth, Papa and I sat on the second row and watched you and a sea of blue mortarboards file two-by-two into a room filled with teary-eyed, flash-popping grown-ups. At first you were uncertain, cautious. Then you saw us and your bursting smiles nearly split your faces in two, and you waved, sweetly, frantically, unable to believe that here we all were, watching you. At dinner beforehand, Lucy, just as we were sitting down, you turned to your grandfather, eager to make…