The PH 5 and two epic road trips

First thing this morning, the electricians came to hang my PH 5. My excitement was palpable, and I regaled them with the story of how we acquired the lamp and tenderly carried it home in our hand baggage, thanking kind flight attendants along the way who smiled at the misshapen, slightly oversized parcel, and kindly tucked into their coat closet and my overhead bin.

So you can imagine my mouth-agape-slo-mo-horror as one of the electricians (two of the nicest guys) bumped the just-hung lamp from the plate that attaches it to the cord, and we all watched it FALL TO THE GROUND with a crash. 

"Please tell me that it's not dented," I gasped. 

"I am so sorry," one of the guys said as he handed me my very dented lamp. Y'all, time stopped. I took a deep breath, told him I understand how sorry he was but could he please give.me.a.minute, and gingerly assessed the damage. Fortunately, I was able to mostly reshape the shade, but the entire fixture was slightly off-center and no one could get it back on the mounting plate. 

I did feel so terribly for how terribly I knew these guys felt, y'all. I had literally JUST told them that this was a thirty-year-old treasure that I had carried home from Denmark. And then bam. But still. And there is a gash in our newly-refinished floors.

I took another deep breath, bid them adieu, met with a darling client, picked my mom up from the airport, called Tom, and decided not to think about things until he, my dear and infinitely capable husband, got home.

Readers, he fixed it. Mostly. It is such a gem, and I just love it. And now Mom and I are sitting here, me writing, she puzzling, under the perfect, non-glare, non-shade glow of Henningsen's genius.

Tomorrow, she and I embark on a road trip to Maine. We are going to get the boys!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

While this road trip will be fun and special for many reasons, it also marks the 20th anniversary -to the month- of the road trip we made from Lake Charles (Louisiana) to Philadelphia to move me to graduate school. For that occasion, she had caps monogrammed for us: Thelma and Louise, Road Trip '98. She was Thelma, I was Louise, and we were going to make that endless Uhaul-towing-a-car drive fun.

A windshield crack started on the passenger side early on. That side mirror shook SO violently that we wondered if it up and broke the windshield. In any case, that crack travelled all the way across the windshield as we drove east and north. Somewhere in Mississippi, we pulled into a truck stop for gas, and there Mom bought a truckers manual. We filled in various bits of information about our "rig" all the way to Philly and managed not to have to back up once. We couldn't, so doing so really wasn't an option.

We actually did have the best time, and since then, the hats have marked important times in our lives: my wedding, my sister's wedding, and now this trip to Maine. I sent mine home a few months ago so Mom could get the monogramming done at the same place she always has. Sadly there are new owners, and they seem to have zero humor or joy, but alas. The hats look great.

We are renting a minivan in the morning, packing up, and heading out. We'll stop in Philly, for the obvious reason but also to see one of Mom's friends, and on and up and into Maine by Saturday for the camp parent social. After pick up on Sunday, we'll make our way back down, arriving home on Wednesday, all together once more. 

Camp, and an adults-only Scandinavian trip for two

Well, the boys have been at camp for eleven days, and we've received one letter from Jack (lovely and newsy) and five from Oliver (not remotely informative but extremely amusing). We have sent letters and packages and spied photographic evidence of the boys via the once-weekly photo upload we receive from camp. Last Thursday, when I called to schedule our birthday phone call with Jack, I learned that Oliver was on an overnight camping trip to an island they'd canoed to and that Jack was doing a coastal excursion where he'd see a lighthouse and study some tide pools before getting to eat lobster (I fully know he opted for the hot dog). Today I found out that Oliver also went on a four-night camping trip.

Presumably all of this means they are happy and enjoying themselves which thrills us to no end. Not least because it means they are escaping the 900 degrees with equal humidity that is DC right now. 

Tom and I have continued to bask in unscheduled and quieter living. I've had a bunch of clients, made jam, gardened a ton, and seen friends. 

Tomorrow we leave for our first trip abroad sans kids in more than twelve years. Despite the fact that neither of us has started packing, we are so, so excited. We arrive in Copenhagen on Thursday and have five days there before moving on to Malmö and then Stockholm. This trip was largely inspired by my love of the Scandinavian literature I've read as well as our love of Scandi design (primarily Danish and mid-century) and food. I'm also extremely interested in countries, like Denmark and Sweden, that have taken the climate change bull by the horns and are dealing with it aggressively and successfully with almost complete buy-in from their citizens. From recycling to home design to alternative fuel sources, I think it's fair to say that Scandinavia has an enormous leg up on the States in this regard. Also, we really enjoyed seeing some of Norway last summer, so all in all, a marvelous adventure to look forward to.

I'll blog from the road. For those enduring the heat wave in the States right now, stay cool. And even though he won't/can't read this (cuz no electricity at camp), please join me in wishing my beautiful Jack a happy 12th birthday. He was born at 7:14am on the 4th of July. I remember his birth like it was yesterday. I love you, Doodle!

The boys are settled in, and now we wait

I still don’t have access to Em-i-lis on any computer so remain stuck typing on my phone. It’s extremely annoying, but alas. At least I know where my children are, and I know they’re safe and well cared for.

Our trip to Maine to move them into camp couldn’t have been lovelier. We flew to Portland, ate a lobster roll (they had chicken fingers, y’all. Sigh.), and drove to Belgrade where we checked into a darling inn, met another camper Ol’s age, took a dip in the lake, ate a truly delicious meal, lit sparklers, and tried to get the kids and their unbridled enthusiasm to bed. 

lobster rolls and clam chowder at Miller Bros seafood

Camp is on a small island, and the first boat from shore wasn’t leaving until 1p. Up early, we did everything possible to pass the time, as the kids were champing at the bit to “get there.” I started to wonder if their glee would wane at all- would goodbyes actually be not so bad?

After pastries, chess,  coffee, a quick visit to Colby College, a walk through Waterville (home of Colby), lunch, and a practice drive to the dock, we returned to the dock 45 minutes early. 

It was a perfect, glorious day. The boys ran around with the friend they’d made the evening before. They met some new kids and dipped their toes in the water. Finally, it was our turn. 

The camp sits in an idyllic, bucolic place. Everything feels crisp and clean and pure. There is no cell reception. Indeed the only electricity is in the dining hall’s kitchen. Open-sided, raised tents and hammocks dot the land. The gathering hall/library/game room is the stuff of dreams. Hogwarts meets summer camp.

We made the boys’ beds, toured camp, met other families, and started to feel a touch nervous. I don’t know that either J or O had really thought about what it actually means to not see or talk to us for six weeks. I had, which had resulted in not a few tears over the week leading up to the adventure. But thus are the lovely truths of both childhood and adulthood, and ultimately we met in the middle and cried it all out. 

Forcing ourselves to gently break our embraces and kiss the boys and encourage them to go exploring with two of the outstanding counselors we met was almost painful. The boat ride back to the mainland was somber, and I waved until the boys were but specks on the horizon. 

Later, via the Facebook parent page for camp, I heard from the mom of one of Ol’s tentmates that when she moved her son in, Ol seemed happy and excited. That did my and Tom’s hearts so good.

We both have a great feeling about this summer, about the ways the boys will grow and become more independent, and also the ways we will.  

The 18 hours T and I spent in Portland after leaving Belgrade was a great start. I plan to share that soon- the food is off the charts delish.

Keep your fingers crossed we get a letter soon!