Ithaca

My sister Katrina was born on the 4^th of July. I remember being 4 years old, watching our neighbors’ fireworks from the safety of my grandma’s lap, and thinking it perfectly natural that the whole country was celebrating her arrival. This year, Katrina arrived on the 6^th, so we saved most of the stockpile of explosives we had purchased from “Uncle Zack’s Fireworks” in West Virginia to blow up in her presence. First we lit glow worms, which spouted black snakes of ash. We escalated to snapping poppers on the ground, waved around sparklers, then went up to the driveway to light a succession of rockets and fountains. We had never bought fireworks before, so when the thing that was described as a spinning fountain took off into the air screaming and exploded, shooting arrows of sparks, we were all a little surprised. Finally we worked up our courage to set off a big ball over the pond. It was shockingly large and we all held our breath as its sparks cleared the trees. So there you go Katrina. A great big birthday candle.

The rest of the TNT crackers were used to shoot homemade tin can rockets up into the air. After several experiments the boys (my father, Zach, and Jonah, who all behaved about the same age with regards to this activity) got the can 20 feet above the top of the three-story house.

We stayed on the basement floor, which gave the kids a place to make messy projects and to nap. During the day Zach and I headed up to the top floor to work while my parents and Katrina generously entertained the kids. They walked in the forest, swam in the pond, searched for bullfrogs, and read books. Throughout the day, various animals made their appearances – songbirds, woodpeckers, chipmunks, deer, rabbits, and Mabel the turkey. At 5, when Zach and I were done working, we all went swimming in the pond together. Then my parents would pass out margaritas and serve something wonderful from the barbeque. Uncle Joel and Aunt Diane came to stay for a little while and we took the opportunity to have a little hootenanny, with Joel on the banjo and Jeff on dobro. When night came fireflies filled the ground and the sky, sometimes streaking like shooting starts. The stars were so clear, and the fireflies so many, it was sometimes hard to tell which was which.

On our last weekend we went wine-tasting. We hit our favorite spot and also some new ones, including a distillery that made the most aromatic gin and where we bought a small bottle of sour cherry liqueur. Since the kids couldn’t taste the wine they went “cracker tasting.” Jonah had a little scorecard where he described and rated the crackers at each winery. Lamoreaux, where we bought the most wine, scored lowest on crackers. But the place where they passed out popsicles was off the charts.

Two weeks in Ithaca flew by. On our last morning we met the three sweet sons of my sister’s boyfriend Pablo. They were staying the night, so we had to clear out of the basement, and in any case it was time for us to be moving on. We packed everything up quickly like expert gypsies, leaving only our footsteps, and sailed off in the red land yacht for Boston. Phyllis and Ken were doing real sailing in Maine, but they had left us the key to their gracious old brownstone. After a nice evening on the porch talking with Carmen and her boyfriend Greg, we joined the kids for sleep on the haunted 3^rd floor.