It Rained On Our Parade!

Oh my, what a Fourth of July! It was so exciting, it took me until the 7th to write about it!
We started the afternoon with a nice lunch at our favorite deli/coffee shop, The Black Sheep. Then we wound the girls up with some yummy vegan brownies! They were exultant. They scarfed every last crumb in a Cornholionic craze. (Ask my brothers, Mark or Jeremy, if you do not understand the reference.) Then it was off to the parade!!
It was a lovely small-town parade, with police and fire departments from a few surrounding towns participating.

There were Massachusetts Minutemen.


Clara looked inspired. Ever the social butterfly, she treated waving to people as if were an honor and responsibility. She’s a smart girl. They throw more candy to the attention-getters.


Rosemary blew kisses, and looked a bit puzzled. She was probably wondering why more people weren’t looking at her being cute. What’s the big deal about a bunch of cars on the street, anyway?

Then we heard bagpipes coming.

Connelly happy. ☺

One thing worth noting about this event was the giant recycling bin as part of the parade!

There were people holding signs with facts about recycling, and you can bet that there weren’t many water bottles left along the street after the parade was over. The kid with the tricycle is adorable.
The parade hadn’t quite finished by Roses’ naptime.

She struggled bravely to keep her eyes open.
When we left, we had to walk two miles to the football field. The buses weren’t running, but the walk isn’t nearly as long as it sounds. Except when you get caught unprepared in a downpour.
The rain was coming down so hard that it was difficult to hear the bands that were playing. But this band, Blackberry Jam, was so cute!

Those little kids on the guitar could really rock!
But alas…

The parking lot was emptying as people began to go home.

Clara met a friend while we were taking shelter under a tree. We had nothing to do but tough it out and walk two more miles home. There are no more pictures here because I didn’t want the camera to get soaked. Our California jackets were slightly inadequate, but once we got the proper arrangement of how to cover the baby, and who gets to push the stroller, carry the umbrella, wear the baseball hat… it was actually quite enjoyable. It lightened up some as we walked, and Chris and I taught Clara the old School House Rock version of The Preamble to the Constitution. Rosemary just smiled and looked around. She seems to Love the cool weather.
We got home, threw off our wet gear, and gave the girls a nice, hot bath. We ate PBJs while we watched the fireworks out our back window. It was beautiful. We are so proud of our girls for staying so happy through the whole evening.

More MassAdventures...

Happy 4th of July! Wow, that really came up quick! Has the Fourth of July always come so early in the month?
The girls are adjusting to all the changes, but it's not been entirely smooth. It's like changing gears on a rusty bike: first you spin the pedals as fast as you can with no results, then a few grinding metallic jerks slow you down, finally the chain catches and you can get somewhere. Clara has spent a few days in her room alone, so she's happy to ham up for the camera. Roses is starting the "terrible twos" and is adamantly independent. It's a good thing for us she is incredibly loving. I was fortunate to snap a picture just in time to catch her using giant chopsticks all by herself!
Here is the mural in West Cemetary. Emily Dickinson is the most prominent person from Amherst, and this portrait was painted so that, as you walk by, she always seems to be looking at you. I also think it's interesting that she was painted so that she was partially hidden by a tree. She was a nature lover, and became notoriously reclusive in her later years.

Standing there touching her gravestone was more profound than I could have expected. She was too unsure of herself, and so unlike any other poet, that she never was published in her own life. She never married, and lost several people who were dear to her. She never did know how loved she could be for all that she was able to express. Look at all those offerings! We are always grateful for those who say what we cannot.
There were many Dickinsons there, and all the people the streets here were named after. The oldest gravestone we found (that was still readable) was for a woman born in 1700.
I couldn't possibly fit all the wonderful pictures I've taken, and of course no photo could fully contain the experience of being here, of feeling the history. It's as if the ground you stand on is more certain. It's older, more confident of itself. This place knows its own mind, has written its own stories. There is not the adolescent struggle for identity. (At least not until the undergrads get here in the fall.) ;) There are more people outdoors here, nature is more enjoyable. It makes one feel like a human being, in the purest sense. Despite the craziness of the last two weeks, the rhythm here is slower. Perhaps it's not having a car or office job that makes me feel less like an air-conditioned, disconnected box-stuffer. When I'm riding on the bus I can relax; I can look out the window
and think quietly, the way I did when I was a child. The scenery is different, but I'm sure I brought the right mind with me.
Well, it's late here. I've got tons more to say and to show you, but I need to wake up in six hours. Here is the sunset out our living room window at 9:30PM.
We love you and miss you. Don't forget to post comments! We would love some familiar voices.

The Adventures of 4 Californians in Massachusetts

Hello Family and Friends! I'm glad to finally get this thing started. I feel as though every day has been the length of a novel, but I will give you a brief synopsis of the last two weeks.
Moving 3,000 miles with two little girls, setting up a home from scratch, getting to know a brand new city with strange traffic signals and the occasional unposted street name, learning to grocery shop without a car, going back to work, living out of suitcases until we can get furniture, pizza places that don't deliver after 10PM, and "what's with all the trees?!!"....has left me very little space for thought or culture shock.
I put pictures of Clara and Roses first, because I knew Gramma and Papa would be uninterested in abundant trees and historic buildings without the beautiful grandkids front and center! The camera was hiding in one of our suitcases for a while, so I've got a lot of catching up to do. This post will mostly be pictures for now. I hope to give smaller, more frequent updates. I've got many picture layouts already planned, and my head won't stop its internal monologue for the journaling. I made sure to take photos of the Post Office for Dad, a Victorian home for Mom, the local Starbucks, and our favorite bookstore (one of many in this tiny town).There's a steepled church on every block, a couple of old -old- cemeteries, and Emily Dickinson is ubiquitous. There is a large steepled church in the background of a picture of the girls playing at a park; the church is across the street from Emily Dickinson’s home.