October is my favorite month. Always has been. I’ve waxed poetic about it for years, and tonight I’m just plain too tired to pull out the multi-syllabic lyrical words. Suffice it to say I have my windows thrown open, a small candle lit, and am welcoming the crisp fall air cascading over the sill carrying the autumnal hum of late crickets in the inky night.
Okay, so maybe the lyrical crept in anyway…
The house is quiet. We’ve found our back-to-school rhythm finally, and bedtime for the monkeys is no longer a struggle every night. All three kids sing softly to themselves once the lights are out- I find it wrenchingly endearing some nights. A few nights ago, Jeffrey sang Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer until he drifted off.
I can hear my phone under the laundry, but I can’t find it.
This last weekend a bunch of friends flew in from all over and we had a girls’ weekend in the District. This has got to be one of the very best things about living here- everyone is willing to visit! If you’ve ever hit up the journal Segullah, these are the women who make it happen. I’m emeritus on the board, but they still let me hang out and basque in their collective glory:
One of these friends is a microbiologist, so I took Abby along so she could spend the day talking science-y things with woman who knows her stuff. Abby wore her red satin cape, Dr. Martin boots, and brought her model of an advancing cold weather-front to show her mad skills and she was well-received. We hit up Eastern Market, Capitol Hill and walked the neighborhoods.
Learn from me, people: don’t wear new Dansko clogs when you’re walking the Hill.
My baby brother is getting married this weekend— it’s been a year of weddings for our family, but this will be the first one I’ve been able to attend. I’m looking forward to hugging my mom like you wouldn’t believe. Do we ever outgrow that? Nope. Not even in the ‘complicated’ relationships. 
My current favorite photo of Bean. I was out with some friends today for breakfast before making an airport run (see Segullah women above) and I was asked again what Bean’s real name is… anyone know? It always makes me laugh when people ask, and they ask all the time.
I have to pick up Jeffrey’s tuba at school tomorrow. Thus it begins again. Tuba. Bugle. Bagpipes. Really? Really?? Yeah. Really.
Dandelion Mama 
Ooh! I know! Eric! He’s totally Bean, though.
Hooray for October!!
Also, I love that Jeffrey can’t play something on the quieter size like an oboe or something. Cracks me up.
*side
I know, right? Nothing quiet or sedate in our house. Ever. His music teacher was funny- he said “When he walked in, I went, AH HA! MY TUBA PLAYER!”
I had no idea Bean had a different name. Sort of like Beaver from Leave it to Beaver. He has another name? No clue.
btw, those tartlet-looking things look divine. I had to enlarge the picture, but still can’t tell exactly what they are.
They’re brownies with chocolate icing and raspberries with non-parliels on top. Bean won’t eat cake so I thought I’d try heart-shaped brownies. Nope. Had some vanilla ice cream though!
That’s my awesome sister, Johnna, in the pic. I sure love her and miss her! Sounds like a fun weekend.
Johnna pretty much rocks. I seriously know some of the most truly amazing, accomplished, educated, inspired and creative women.
I’ve been reading long enough now to know it’s Eric! But I will always think of him as Bean. How did he get that nickname?
When I was first pregnant with him, I was describing to Jeffrey how big the baby in my tummy was- the size of a bean. It stuck through the pregnancy- and he’s been Bean ever since. There are people in real life who don’t know his name isn’t Bean. Some folks probably think I’m nutballs.