Fun with Anne and David and Jean

Today was a rare day of sunshine, so we all decided to make the most of it. After a great breakfast of Grandma Jean's cinnamon rolls (which I told her I can't seem to find the equivalent of anywhere -- I ordered one at a restaurant last week and it was quite disappointing) and bacon, Drew headed downstairs to work (ugh; he believes he was the only reporter on duty today and ended up writing a story), Anne, David, Rachel and I went for a walk through the neighborhood to Grant Park. Usually Rachel whines about how far it is, but this time the message was clear -- she'd have to put up with it. When we got there we played a great game of kickball/soccer, and Rachel stunned me by stopping the ball with her foot on top several times, just the way real soccer players do! I have no idea where she picked that up. I kept referring to her as "Rachel DeSilver!' Number six!" because six is her favorite number, and all of a sudden I had a vision of Drew and I cheering her on at a soccer game someday. I plan on taking a Thermos full of hot chocolate and schnapps on those cold, rainy Oregon Saturdays to make the watching more bearable...

Then Rachel played on the play structure with Anne and David (thank you for being such good sports, guys!) and we all walked home when it started to turn cold. I made everyone homemade hot chocolate (Anne and I took ours with peppermint schnapps) and we munched on crackers, cheese and proscuitto (Rachel likes it, much to my surprise) until it was almost time to go.

Anne and David then kindly helped Drew and I with a project I had just dreamed up the other day -- getting the Belgian carpet that Mom and Dad once had in their apartment in 6F, in the Whitehall, into our bedroom. Drew and I have dragged it around from residence to residence, reluctant to lay it down because it's so big and has a couple of stains on it (probably from my throwup or Daniella's); we've had it professionally cleaned to no avail. But I never felt as if I could give it away or sell it, because Mom and Dad gave it to me and it's from Belgium, and it's the only tangible connection I have with that country. Anyway, the other night I decided we needed to put it in our bedroom or get rid of it for good. It took about an hour, and all of our strength, Anne, David, Drew and I finally got it down with the bed and dresser positioned on top of it. It looks, Drew says, like we have a grown-up bedroom. I never thought he minded having the white throw rugs, but apparently he did.

And another odd thing happened -- as soon as I got the rug vacuumed and the bed made up again (we had to take most of it apart to get the rug under it) -- I felt as if I'd gotten part of my childhood back. There's a photo of me on our living room bookcase with Dad's arms around me when I was 9 months old and we were playing in the living room. Later it ended up in Mom and Dad's bedroom, and when they moved to 8K and then to Mt. Kisco, it disappeared. At some point they gave it to me, and now it's in my bedroom, where Rachel will remember it, and then we'll give it to her one day...and the cycle goes on.