the end of summer

Jackson had his 10th birthday. He said it was his best ever. The day began with balloons all over the house. Rylee and Cyndi had set up little clues to his presents, which Jackson followed from his bedroom, beginning with the staircase. One clue was to find the chair where Daddy sat, and, of course, I was sitting in it. The clues led to a big box, containing a little, but special, present.

Rylee took the initiative to plan Jack's morning. The boys do that for each other's birthday and they are developing their own rituals together. Jack orchestrated much of his birthday beforehand.

I made oatmeal for breakfast, and Cyndi made cookies for Jack's class. She arranged for Jack's friends and cousins to meet at our gym for a little pool party after school. There was lots of jumping and splashing in the water, pizza to eat, and a birthday cake. The highlight for Jackson was having three of his friends spend the night at his house. The boys played Wii game versions of Wipeout and Bass Fishing, the first based on a popular TV show of pratfalls the kids and Cyndi love to watch and share a laugh together, the second a present from one of his friends. They watched a movie on the new projector until they drifted to sleep. The camping air mattress was blown up for the occasion, but only Ry slept in it. Jack tucked him in, and the rest of the boys were scattered around the bunkbed, couch and cushions in the room. They were incredibly good, and the friends left the next morning after a breakfast of bacon and waffles.

We went to Santa Fe on the Saturday during Indian Market. This is the busiest day in Santa Fe. Before we left Albuquerque, we went to the skateboard park while Cyndi went to the gym, we went to Target for I don't remember what but the boys managed to get some small toys, and we grabbed a bite for the road. We would arrive in Santa Fe after noon, and I didn't expect we'd find an empty table or a short waiting list anywhere. We managed to find a parking spot near Santacafe and walked toward the plaza. We skipped the toy store on Marcy and looked inside J. Crew. It was a hot, sunny day as we walked up and down Lincoln, which was bustling with booths filled with pottery and clothes and paintings and people walking by, stopping. Some people had the Santa Fe look, which I joke means expensive jeans with expensive jewelry. Sometimes the jewelry is turquoise, and the jeans or skirt may be accompanied by elaborately tooled and colored boots, and usually a brimmed hat. The vendors were from all over the country, but most were Pueblo or Navajo. The craftspersons appeared to have already sold most of what they had brought. The painters looked to be much slower.

The plaza, too, was crammed with booths. We went into the Plaza Bakery for ice cream. There's a trick to that tiny shop. It looks like there is a line at the door, but it's not. We just go in and stand up to the counter, and wait until we're asked what we want: two kid's chocolates with rainbow sprinkles. As the boys ate their ice cream, we walked down to Tia Sophia but they were closing for lunch, the owner told me kindly after we peeked in the door. We walked back to the plaza and entered the Palace of the Governors through the front door under the portico, where the native vendors usually are. That door is not usually opened. It opens into the original wing of the museum, which I had not been in for many years, when I used to visit the print shop. It was wonderful, and this weekend it was free admission.

I asked where the regular vendors were and the museum attendant said they were in the little courtyard of the palace. What a wonderful place that was, shadey, uncrowded, a short line for fry bread, and small booths scattered on the lawn. Cyndi found some earrings and she tried several variations until we bought one custom made for her as we talked with the jewelry maker.

Jackson was very weary and hungry, and Rylee was just about getting over me telling him we were not going to the toy store on this trip. We put more money in the parking meter. Santacafe was also closing for lunch, the owner told me kindly, again. We walked over to the Inn of the Anasazi to see if we could have a bite on their porch outside on the street.

We were told it would be a short wait. We stood there for only a few short minutes, unsure if we should wait. But, perhaps sensing we very much wanted to eat there, the staff became exceptionally courteous and gracious, treating us as if we were guests at the hotel, a five-star one at that. After a couple of minutes, they asked us to sit on the sofas in the lobby to wait, where it was cool. The boys played, but they were unobtrusive and polite. I noticed that the staff knew all of their guests by name, as the guests came and went, and I remarked about this to the woman who was trying to help us. We struck up several conversations with her during our visit, and it turned out she was a director there.

We got a table in a short time, on this the busiest day for Santa Fe, at one of the nicest hotels and restaurants, when most restaurants were no longer serving lunch. It was a lovely lunch. The boys had a shrimp quesidilla, and Cyndi and I split a soft shelled crab dish and tuna tacos with an avocado mousse and mango salsa, with some little salady sprigs on the side. We sipped beers. I ordered a German one the man next to us was drinking. He was alone, just watching the world go by along Washington.

During the day we got many comments about the boys. Rylee was wearing a Yankees baseball cap, and Jackson a Red Sox cap. So many people in Santa Fe noticed it that day and questioned whether the boys were an equal rivalry. This must have happened a handful of times; twice during lunch. As we finished our lunch, dark clouds were looming and thunder began. The wind was gusting. The vendors began closing down. The hotel invited us inside, and we finished our beers in their library, where the boys were treated to cookies set out for the guests.

We haven't seen much rain in Albuquerque, and I was antsy to be outside in the weather. We left the hotel and drove home but somehow the rain never came.

Rylee has been going to the skateboard park now for about three weekends in a row. It's getting to the point where it's just him and me, while Cyndi and Jack do other things. Jack sometimes tags along just to see who may be there or perhaps to play chess with me. We go early in the morning, and we've started to stop off first at a Starbucks for coffee, hot chocolate, and a scone. There's only a few there; we recognize some regulars; many are very young children with their parents. Some are on bikes, some are on skates, some are on scooters. Ry skateboards mostly, but likes to bring his bike, too.

It's a kick to watch him. He has a black helmet on. He will skateboard all over the park, sometimes dragging his skateboard behind him as he climbs steep steps or tiers. He tries new ramps and pipes, taking his turn as others go before him, while others wait for him in turn. He'll test the waters of some steps. He is determined to master each new ramp and pipe, and so he does them over and over again...but not without also taking laps around in between. He looks so comfortable at what he is doing. There doesn't seem to be any danger from falls. He is probably the youngest on a skateboard, and you sense he is accepted there by the older ones. The scene on weekend mornings is different from other times we've gone.

When we left one time, he said that was fun. He said, you know what's funny? There's people who get paid to have this much fun. This weekend he mastered getting over the lip of the half pipe to skate down the slope. That slope is not a ramp, but has a quick drop, like a wave, before feathering out to the bottom. An older kid offered some help. He goes up and down the big ramps now, gliding along like a surfer. His board is getting pretty beaten up.

Ariel was in Atlanta during Hurricane Irene, working on a story assignment, so she didn't have anything much to report on the storm hitting Manhattan. Last time I talked, she and Chris were is southern California for a friend's wedding.

Meanwhile, Jackson has beaten me three times in a row at chess. He's an alert player, very clever. He and Rylee signed up for chess at school, but so far the after school club hasn't met. The boys are also signed up for soccer, and practice should begin soon. Rylee has been researching cat and dog adoptions online with Lauren. He prints out what he finds online and then puts it in a notebook he's keeping. Borders is closing, and he found a book on golden retrievers for $2, which he carries around now.

We went to a neighborhood sushi place one evening a couple of weekends ago. The boys ate some Korean shrimp teriyaki and rice. They were anxious to go the frozen yogurt shop, which was about three or four doors down. While Cyndi and I finished up, I told Jackson to take Rylee to the frozen yogurt shop. This was the first time he was left in charge to go into a store without his mom and dad. Cyndi seemed briefly uncertain, but acknowledged this was a good opportunity for Jack, who is on the cusp of growing up. I gave him some money and he and I talked quickly about what he was going to do. The boys left and we watched them go by the window together on their way. A few minutes later Jack came back with change and the two boys sat side-by-side outside our restaurant window eating their dishes of frozen yogurt and chattering away. Cyndi asked, will this moment make it into the blog? This past weekend, Rylee got the courage to ask for gum for him and Lauren at the baseball concession stand, as I stood a few yards away and Cyndi watched from the bleachers.

Here's the rest of the pics.