For Iris’s birthday, we finally make it down from Waterville (an average of 771 ft./ 235m above sea level, tho there’s lots of up & down) to Syracuse (an average of  361 ft./155m above sea level, tho again, it’s a hilly area).

Mom and Iris made the orange kiss-me cake together. I suggested it, because Iris has never had one. Dan liked this kind of cake when we were little, but I never appreciated it. It’s a sort-of a coffee cake— tho however that’s defined is beyond me. Probably it was too sophisticated for me as a kid.

As an adult, I appreciate the flavor more. I say it’d go well with coffee, if that was the sort of thing I could drink without staying up for a few days in a row. Fortunately, it also goes well with milk— wait. Are you licking that already?

“I did not lick the spatula.”

—Mom.

Iris helped mostly by hanging around the kitchen, which is sometimes the most helpful thing to do for a cook who knows well enough what she is doing but would like some company.

Iris got thirteen whole candles— all of them!— and pondered what to wish for.

Hey, Mom, what did you wish for on your 13th birthday?

For a wonderful old Gramma-Grandot event, please re-visit—

1.

Akiva built himself a lawn chair.

Aah, to lounge in the sun on a winter’s day.

2.

The sledding hill was good and packed.

Hey, Dad, remember the time you went sledding on the toboggan and hit the tree in the middle of the sledding hill and bit your tongue in half? In half! I remember the bite mark, anyhow. It looked horrid. I tell that story to Akiva a lot, but apparently waggling your tongue while sledding is just some weird genetic quirk that can’t be trained out of a person. He hasn’t crashed into anything real bad since he was two (see note), and apparently he had his tongue in his mouth that time, so, so far we’re lucky.

Iris waves at her dog and the photographer as they fly by. “Hi, Mama!”

Iris tried to get Brook to go down on the sled. Brook prefers not to.

Akiva tries to make the sled jump on the bumps.

Back up the hill!

NOTE:

They did crash into a tree pretty bad in January of 2018. It was my fault.

one

two

Akiva has an intense need to play.

Sometimes, just for him, Iris plays.

Later, we test the snow.

Iris does not necessarily like sledding, either.

Sometimes, just for Akiva, she goes.

Charlie the Australian shepherd

is staying at our house for two weeks,

so we take her to the sled run

at Park Bellevue

where she eagerly chases

the toboggan down

and up the hill.

When I was in 4th grade, our art teacher told us to pick a work of art by a famous artist and copy it.

The girl next to me chose the Mona Lisa by Leonardo da Vinci.

“Are you sure you want to copy that?” I asked.

“I like it,” she said. I looked at the image askance. I knew of its fame. I also knew, from previous joint projects, that although Mimi may have had good taste in art, she had a particularly difficult time with both gross and fine motor skills, which resulted in poor letter formation, poor scissors usage, and generally being picked last in gym. I didn’t try to explain to her why she might not want to attempt the Mona Lisa.

I, on the other hand, learned to read and write early. I knew my letters were lovely. I could cut a perfect curve with scissors. In addition, I had great skill with a ruler. This was to my benefit, as I had suddenly become a huge fan of Piet Mondrain. Straight lines! Bold colors! Nothing simpler. I knew my limits.

Now, 42 years later, my own child is in 4th grade, learning on his own about the great artist, Piet Mondrain. It came about this way.

Akiva was building Lego cars inspired by an old pamphlet he found. The wheels of the cars fit perfectly into Matchbox-size race car tracks. “Build one that will smash to bits when it crashes, and we can film it in slow motion,” I suggested. A few minutes later he returned with what has become my favorite of all his cars: Piet.

As for Mimi and the Mona Lisa? The paint on her board blurred to a muddy green-brown mingled with tears.

“I should have done what you did,” she sobbed.

I said nothing.

I did not know what to say.