Sunday, July 03, 2011


It seems pointless to be writing on a weekend when nobody blogs or reads blogs because they are all out aggressively "weekending," but as the wife of a medical professional, I'm often alone on the weekends, hence my long-standing dislike of them (weekends, that is, and not medical professionals).  The streets are full of wholesome families and when you appear among them, alone with your kids, you look a little sad.  Or maybe you just feel a little sad.

Yes, I am afraid I have earned a weekending FAIL.  I generally skip the farmer's market because exposure to that much smugness so early in the morning is not conducive to mental health.  I abhor organized sporting of any type except rowing, and I see playing baseball in Quarry Park on a hot Sunday afternoon as a sign of a low IQ.  That's probably an offensive statement, but it's a weekend, so no one is reading this to be offended.  

We did make it to a party in the country last night.  It was the sort of party that everyone brings along their dogs and babies and mandolins and great irregularly-shaped slabs of homemade pizza and pots of chili and bottles of Jack Daniels and it all gets thrown down on an improvised table in the barn, and you know there's a mason jar of moonshine somewhere.  The host put on a fireworks display that easily rivaled a professional one, the difference being that, through the darkness and clouds of powder smoke, you could see the guys lighting the rockets only a few feet away from where you were standing, and they'd explode directly over your head, and just when you thought you'd inhaled more gunpowder than was good for you, the show ended.

Brigid returns from Italy tonight.  They change planes in Paris and should land in DC around 8:00pm. They played concerts in Rome, Florence, and Charlottesville's "sister city" Poggio a Caiano.  I believe there was a competition involved too, in which CHS was the only American school to participate.

Now I am going to scrape together $0.35 for parking and visit the Alderman Library.


  1. I read. I agree. I'm not a huge fan of weekends or holidays. When you work at home or stay home with kids, every day is a working day, so to hell with people who can take two whole days off to amuse themselves!

    But wait...if you are allergic to the smugness of the farmer's market (it's the enormous baby strollers stuffed with toddlers that keeps me away), then how can you bear Whole Foods? That place is full of Dr. FeelGood's All-Natural Organic Cruelty-Free Smugness.

  2. Oh, I agree that Whole Foods is brimming with smugness, but I tolerate it because at least it's simply a place to shop and not a place to Be Seen. And they have the only edible corn tortillas in town.

    I can't stand the strollers at the farmer's market either. I understand the need to push young children in something--I have four children--but is it necessary to push the whole stroller into those tiny stalls? I always used to park mine outside the entrance of each vendor, and no one ever tried to kidnap my babies.

  3. How can you call that weekend a "Fail"?

    Will you feel rested and recharged after your "Failed" weekend? If so then it's a success.

    That sort of party sounds great, especially with the chili and Jack Daniels, PLUS the fireworks.. Sounds great to me.

  4. I generally skip the farmer's market because exposure to that much smugness so early in the morning is not conducive to mental health.

    I love that sentence.