Lisa n Tom (n James n Joseph)

Lisa writes: James likes peanut butter, and calls it mani which is short for mantequilla de mani which literally translates to butter of peanut. And thus concludes today's Spanish lesson.

Lisa writes: Neighbor Jim across the street asked us to help with a baby squirrel that had been sitting in his yard all afternoon. It was getting dark and the mama still hadn't returned for it. So he and Tom caught it and put it in the old hamster cage (which gets a remarkable amount of use, considering we don't have a hamster anymore) and Tom found an online recipe for baby squirrel Pedialyte. I made some calls and found a 24-hour emergency vet that would take it overnight and a wildlife rehabber that would pick it up the next day. Just for the record, our neighborhood is literally swarming with squirrels, but, hey, there's always room for one more.

Lisa writes: It was James's unofficial first day in Nursery (technically, he wasn't old enough until the following week) and he looooved it. He just about hyperventilated with joy over the bubbles.

Lisa writes: A friend with a nice camera is building a portfolio and took some pictures of us and our  neighborhood today.   Our block Guest bedroom -- come visit! The house James and his crib The elementary school playground across the street The pool one block away Soccer, sort of James and daddy The family Cookies. He was much better at eating the dough than putting it on the tray.

Lisa writes: We spent three hours at the Merrifield Post Office last Saturday, waiting in line to submit paperwork to get James a passport. We don't have any travel lined up, but Tom likes the idea of just having the document ready so if anything exciting comes up, we can just pack and go. James had a good time at the Post Office. There were families with other little boys, in particular a 10 year old from Guatemala named Reyli  with a 2 year old brother named Andy. Reyli was an awesome big brother, playing with the little kids, but watching out to make sure they didn't get hurt. James and Andy raced the length of the hallway over and over, and Reyli let James eat the last of his crackers. Our number was 91. After three hours, they were up to 72 and we had to go babysit Tim's kids in 30 minutes. It was obvious that this wasn't in the cards, so we left. Today, we made an appointment at the Burke Post Office for 1 p.m. We were in and out by 1:08 p.m.

Lisa writes: While at Blue Mountain, Betsy and the kids found an apple tree just loaded with small, sweet, soft reddish-yellow apples. They picked bags and bags of them and we brought them home. We split them up between families, but I still counted 80 in our bag. James loves them, but his method eating them is to take a bite, suck on it a while, and then spit out the skin ... all over the house. He asks for them when he sees them on the counter: "Bapples! Bapples!" After a week, we'd barely made a dent in the bag and some were starting to go bad, so I spent three hours coring and peeling and making apple sauce. Eighty small apples made 15 cups of apple sauce.  This recipe (scaled up) turned out well. James and the nephew enthusiastically ate it on waffles and didn't even ask for syrup.

Lisa writes: Tom runs around the lake near our house. He claims it's a 5 mile roundtrip. I suspect it's actually 4, but I choose to believe him because then when he makes me walk it with him it feels like a bigger deal. James comes along for the ride.

Lisa writes: It's Bird Week. On Saturday, we pulled into the driveway after swimming with the kids and neighbor Ted came running from across the street to tell us there was a parakeet on our sidewalk. Got out of the car and there sure was! Apparently he'd been flying around the neighborhood for hours. Multiple people had tried to catch him. Ted and I carefully draped a linen tablecloth over him and I picked him up and put him into the old hamster cage Tom brought up from the basement. We set him up with water and hamster food (mostly seeds, right?) and he ate and ate for hours. He was small and kind of lethargic. He seemed perkier the next day, but by Tuesday he was falling off his perch onto the floor of the cage, and I guess I should have been less surprised when I came home this evening and he was patas arriba . We buried him in the backyard, next to the rest of the menagerie. Meanwhile, Tuesday, there was a very small bird sitting in the middle of a very busy sidewal...

Lisa writes: I've never figured out Tom's family tree, but most of the relatives I've met seem to be related to him through his grandfather (so, 2nd cousins?). Guy and Belva are some of those. Sweet, sweet people who live on a beautiful country hillside outside of Schenectady, New York. They're retired and the kids are grown, so they've gardened and sewn and tapped maple trees and mowed hay and done wood-working. Bel cans her own jam and makes homemade English muffins; Guy built their house from scratch. We usually stop to visit them on the way home from Blue Mountain, often staying for dinner, sometimes staying the night. We found out at Blue that Bel had recently been diagnosed with Alzheimer's, on top of the degenerative spinal condition she's had for years that has forced her to walk with two canes and now a walker. She likes to put on a spread for visitors, but Guy knew she really wasn't up for it. So, after some family strategizing, it was de...

Lisa writes: With only one full day at Blue, I had to catch up quick. Tom and James and I went on a paddle around the lake (no osprey this year, but a loon floated right past us), and then Hoss's.

Lisa writes: Most of our weeks are spent going to and from work, to and from Costco, and to and from church. This week was spent going to and from Wisconsin, Boston, and New York. This week was the sort-of-annual Anderson family reunion at Blue Mountain Lake, New York. Tom and James left on Saturday. (James learned how to blow kisses just as they drove away.) This week was also the annual users group meeting for the new software my company is installing. The gathering was in Verona, Wisconsin. It was ridiculous. I was sorry to miss Blue but, work, you know? I would fly home after the conference Thursday night and the guys would be back by Sunday. But Tom pointed something out: my flight back stopped in Boston, and it's a 4-hour drive from Boston to Blue. He could come get me. Would you ask somebody to drive eight hours to pick you up so you could spent 48 hours with them on vacation? ... Um, yes? So I got off the plane and he picked me up and we ate dinner at a...