November first
Okay. Halloween is over. And it really wasn’t that big of a deal. We took everyone’s advice and let the kids eat all the candy they wanted Halloween night and then let them choose eight pieces to save for the week (horrifyingly, Rose only had three pieces left to save). The rest went to the Halloween Fairy, who will leave them something in exchange, like a floret of broccoli and a thimbleful of kimchi. Just kidding. Rose, bless her scribbling heart, chose to receive art supplies and Col decided he would like money, meaning a handful of coins, which after being stacked, toted around and then lost, will never find their way back into the American economy.
I liked what Caraway said in those comments, that “they’ll always love and want candy no matter what we do.” It kind of takes the pressure off.
I also liked this story my friend Sheryl told me during a recent harvest party that could have been sponsored by Candy Lovers of America. She told me about this time her daughter Ella was agitating for a second piece of cake and ice cream. And her friend lovingly said “You know Ella sweetie, it’s not your fault.” Meaning, all this craving of sugar and fat and chocomania ice cream, it’s not your fault. It’s just how we humans are wired.
But, what I really want to know is, did you slow dance to Stairway to Heaven as a teenager? Did it get awkward (I mean more awkward, at the last stanza when the song gets suddenly fast? Do you still wonder what’s “a bustle in your hedgerow?”) First go here, to this week’s San Juan Table, wherein I explain how slowdancing to said Zeppelin song is like filling your basement with root vegetables. And then come back here and tell me your slow dance particulars.
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Okay, I’ll go first.
1984. Berkeley, California. I had just downed a warm can of Heineken before Riley Cooper’s party in his parent’s attic. I slow danced to Stairway to Heaven with the host.
That is the cutest picture ever!
and… sigh… I was far too shy to ever… ever… slow dance with anyone to stairway to heaven.
But I do think I did have a warm can of heineken at some point.
Amazingly, I can claim a slow dance in Jr. High with the man with whom I now currently live all these years later. Every once in awhile he will demonstrate the terribly desperate way two teens slow dance. My kids are mortified. It looks nothing like the fun their parents have now. So maybe, if they ever feel a tad awkward, they’ll know it passes.
I’m glad it all worked out!!!
~Samantha
Sorry, I’m too young to have a memory of a stairway dance… But I adore the root cellaring post! What great writing, full of tips! I took a little workshop on it this summer, and there were all sorts of cool ways to build root cellars… But the easiest I heard of was using a old cooler. It’s insulated, and watertight… although I have no clue how it would hold up to your temps!!!
“Patience.” by G-n-R. It was the song that meant the most in 7th grade, not sure why. And I didn’t get to dance with the boy I was coveting, I instead danced with Toby Kraft and kept my breast buds as far from his button-up shirt as possible. I later did dance with the boy, what song? I do not remember because I was too busy MAKING OUT. But then we were separated by a teacher and later I was crying in the bathroom because he was making dance moves on my best friend.
that is the cutest picture-is Dan a pumpkin?
Read your San Juan Edible article and kept thinkling how lucky Dan and the kids are to have such wonderful and healthy food to eat.
Baba
“..it’s just a springclean for the May Queen…”
Gad. Just when I thought I had safely suppressed memories of the agony of slow dances… Had forgotten all about the awkward shuffling around in response to the syncopated undanceable bustle in the hedgerow bit. Now THAT is funny (now that we’re a million years away from it…).
My daughter had Kit Kat for the first time and devoured it. And she couldn’t get enough of it. We’ve rationed it since Halloween but it was fun for me to watch her enjoy something with such pure simplistic pleasure like that. I didn’t grow up with Halloween and although I’ve been here 16 years, this is the first time I’ve finally figured out what the fuss is all about.
Camp Tawonga … that song was a REQUIREMENT!! I was dancing with Ben Haas, he was shorter than me.. we started off all close, and when that damn fast part came, we were at least arms length apart trying to sing-a-long to g-d knows what lyrics, and awkward as all hell.. it was a wrap..
years later, as staff members at camp to the same song, outside of dance, under the stars… it was a little, well, less awkward for the entirety of the song..(: Thanks for asking.. roots in the cellar indeed.
just came click click down at your lovely blog, makes me wish that we could do such great things… but in the netherlands we cant :-( poor us. but i really enjoyed your blogging!!
greetings, sillie
Oh yes, I DID dance to Stairway, and I still wonder about the lyrics. This song and “Hotel California” were THE slow dance songs in Jr. High. We liked Hotel California better because you could generally understand the lyrics (though what the heck the “Warm smell of colitas” was all about I always wondered) and it didn’t have the weird speed up part, but Stairway was longer, which had its perks as well. The goal for the boys was to see if the girl would allow his hand to drift down to her generally bony rear end before the song was over. I would not relive those days for all the ripe tomatoes in the mid west.
That is exactly how we do it — eat your fill, till your sick, preferably (oops!) Though I like the ‘8 items and exchange the rest’ addendum. Fat lot of good your little one is doing to help the ol’ economy, though ;)