Hurricane Sandy
Monday morning found Michael donning his black fleece coat -- and then another, warmer coat over the first coat -- running to the car through the pelting, wind-driven rain, and driving the .8 miles to the grocery store to stock up on water and other necessities (chips, crackers, candy bars). The news reports suggested this was to be the worst storm on record -- a serendipitous (for the storm) synchrony streaking across the skies towards the eastern seaboard, where it would indiscriminately unleash its awesome fury. It was to make the Perfect Storm look like a March day in Portland (which is to say, rainy, but somewhat shy of apocalyptic). We kept the blinds closed throughout the day, to prevent the inevitable shards of shattered glass from flying unobstructed across our apartment. The winds picked up in the afternoon -- a portent of the storm to come. At 1:00, the top of a tree in front of our house, right in front of our house, was torn off by an especially violent gust, and fell thudding against the asphalt below, demanding the attention of Boston's already overextended emergency responders. Our flashlight batteries were charged, our 72-hour kits packed, our baby laughing and smiling inexplicably, incomprehensibly . . . maddeningly. Around 6:00 p.m., the wind died down -- the calm before the storm. A quick scan of our Facebook news feeds revealed that people had lost power across the city -- fellow Cantabrigians, classmates and friends, were being driven into the shadows by this meteorological monster, this Frankenstorm. We would almost certainly be next. And then a new trend appeared -- the power was coming back on; people were emerging into the light. The storm, at least insofar as it affected Boston, was past. And we were unscathed, untouched, and grateful for our good fortune. Our thoughts and prayers are with those not as fortunate.
Halloween
Halloween itself was uneventful this year. Either we live in a sub-prime (and I don't refer to the quality of the mortgages) trick-or-treating neighborhood, or we missed the best hour for it when we were taking Halloween cookies to a friend who had a baby the week before. I just now (as I was looking for the picture to post) realized that we forgot to take a picture of the cookies -- they were molasses cookies with orange (Halloween-coloured) frosting.We made four or five plates to take people on Sunday but then with the storm coming in on Monday and some other things we didn't get around to taking them to people until Wednesday night, All Hallow's Eve. Somehow, inexplicably, by that time there was only one plate left. A ghost or goblin must have eaten them while we had our hands full with the storm. Either that, or Micah has been having the midnight munchies.Even though Halloween itself was somewhat lackluster, we did make it to a couple of pre-Halloween parties, thanks to the Harvard Law School Couples' Association's Children's Club (that's TWO mouthfuls to say) and the Cambridge 2nd Ward. Michael and Sarah were the only adults dressed up at the Children's Club party, but that's okay, because nobody even noticed we were in costume. Sarah went as a Skittle and Michael and Micah as M&Ms. Unfortunately, we didn't get a picture of everyone together in their costumes, so we'll either have to reenact on a random Tuesday afternoon or wait until next year to capture the Robertson family's first (with children) Halloween.
Last thing
We've been trying to explore the Boston metro area a little bit more while we are here. Last week we went to the Arlington Reservoir for a walk. There are so many great ponds, rivers, and lakes in this area -- and they invariably have convenient and well-kept walking/running paths along their shores. We saw a couple of beautiful swans and what looked like an egret (or related bird), although we weren't able to get photos of them. We did, however, find some nice neighborhoods proudly flaunting New England's famous fall foliage.
