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Skip and Kelly had their last day of Fine Art Camp last Friday. I dropped them off (on time! Go me!), and then went on a cleaning/packing bender.
All the rooms are company-ready. Last of the laundry's done. And put away! All the bags are packed. I know I've forgotten something. Probably many somethings (in retrospect, I can now say that list included - but is in no way limited to - my deodorant, rechargeable batteries, Ken's socks, a warm shirt for me, and Skip's swim trunks). I took out trash that I've been meaning to take out for ages. I cleaned the neighbour's kitchen under the bird cage, even.
At noon I dropped by Fine Art Camp to snag Skip and Kelly a little bit early. New Hip Company's Family Picnic started at 12, and it was only going until 4. I wanted the kids to have as much of the experience as they could have (not to mention that I didn't want to miss out on the great food, and any other adult goodies that might be coming my way).
We were a little tight for time (only because I'd made it so - I'm sure the kids didn't really worry whether they were an hour or two late for the NHC picnic), so I was thinking that it'd be a bit of a smash-n-grab for getting the kids at camp. I showed up, the teachers having been warned that I'd be an hour early (and they were OK with it, even though that last hour was going to be spent in rehearsals for Skip's drama and Kelly's dance, which would be happening that evening at the Big Show), to discover that Skip had been transformed.
Yikes. And that makeup was HARD to get off. I tried wet paper towels (their first suggestion), then moved to some dish soap that was handy, adn finally had to leave the place with a fist-full of baby wipes. Not only had Skip completely transformed his head and neck, he'd also completely made up his left arm.
We went straight to the New Hip Company picnic. They'd taken over a local outdoor concert venue, and had made the place up as Alice in Wonderland.
So Kelly (still in stage makeup, though not nearly as radical as Skip's), got to meet Alice...
...and the Mad Hatter...
...and the King and Queen of Hearts...
...while Skip went up and down a climbing wall to his heart's content.
...and I ate to my heart's content. There are no photos of THAT spectacle...
On the way home from that party, Ken and Skip took a detour (we divided up the kids so we both could take advantage of the HOV lanes) past some geek-gadget place, because he'd found the Ultimate Deal on some GPS system, and thought it'd be fun to have on our trip (which, at that point, was beginning in less than 12 hours).
I took the Wees home, and gave them a bit of supper, and found the clothes that Skip would need for his role in the evening's production, and then we met up again at the Fine Arts Camp, for the Grand Finale Show.
Wouldn't you know it, my batteries died. Stone cold dead, the minute after I took the first picture of Skip in the back of the crowd during the drumming number. It was like a kid's version of Stomp. Not bad for a week's worth of instruction.
I was so bummed about the battery thing, though. Kelly was the cutest little pirate you've ever seen, and I have no record of it. And Skip was a sea monster, in a most creatively constructed costume. The instructors there are all geniuses. I swear.
Anyways, we beatled out of there as fast as we could, and got the kids home and into bed in their Travelling Clothes. Tomorrow would be an early day, and I wanted them to get as much rest as they could.
If only I'd taken my own advice.
I was packed, and ready, even. WHY did I think that doing some knitting (to relax me?) while watching "Psych" and taking out more garbage and putzing around in the house doing "last minute things" until 11 was a good idea?????
Anyone? Anyone?
Buehler...? Buehler...?
Oh well. At least I didn't have to worry about where the passports and birth certificates were.
I crashed around 11, making sure (for about a dozen times) that my cell phone's alarm was set to go off at 3:45am.
Because I'm crazy like that.
Doesn't EVERYONE start their vacation at 3am?
P is for...
PIRATE
And not just any pirate.
That's Dread Pirate Skippy... er, I mean Roberts.
So, on a complete lark this morning, I decided to take the kids up to The City.
I'd read in a diarist that I'd found on the front page that there was some "event" happening up at City Hall at noon, and it sounded like a fun thing to peek in on. I had no idea what exactly was up, but I thought it couldn't hurt.
So at 10:30 I piled the kids into the car (up until that point, Ken and I had been talking - he was working from home this morning - and I'd said I'd take the kids to Bair Island to get them out of his hair) stuck some sand toys into the Pilot (in case we ended up heading out to the beach afterwards), and zipped up to the city.
The main thought, though, was to take the kids to this play park that Nate had found back in June when we were waiting for Skip to finish rehearsing with the symphony. It's this cool dome thing made out of rope. And we got some good play time in on it:
But our first order of business (after finding a completly ROCKIN' free parking space) was to head down to City Hall.
We walked around, and had a little civics lesson from some toothless crazy-lady, on how Lincoln's Spirit lives in this statue (because LOOK at his eyes, they follow you!) and keeps San Francisco free of slavery, or something, while I was taking this photo:
And then the kids started getting whiny, and antsy, and there really was no sign of this 'special event' that I'd read about (only cursorily, alas) in this diary that had been up on the OD front page for a nanosecond, so I was thinking that I probably dreamed it, and it was probably all for the best, because the last thing someone needs is to write about some good work that they're doing, and then have some crazy-lady OD-stalker show up going "I read about this in your Online Diary, and now I'm stalking you. Here, meet my kids."
So then there was the spectre of walking around the ENTIRE huge City Hall again, and curiousity got the better of me.
I wonder if we could just CUT THROUGH the building....
Nate was whining so loud, I thought someone was going to call security.
"I don't want to."
"My legs hurt."
"I don't want to climb the stairs."
"My arm is tired."
The list goes on and on.
But I peeked in the door, and there was this crowd of people going through this one metal detector, and a security guard sitting at a second detector all alone.
He waved at me, and called me over.
"Um..." I started, all idiot-like, "Are we allowed to be in here?" I asked.
And while he was answering, he was waving Skip, Kelly, and Nate through the metal detector, and handing me back my purse, "Not only can you come in, you're welcome to take pictures, too!" he exclaimed.
I guess they deal with more ignoramus-esque tourists than me. Perhaps on a daily basis. So kind. So knowledgeable.
And before I knew it, we were inside the cool marble halls, and the kids were running on ahead.
Children were singing in the distance. We followed the sounds.
And entered the rotunda, where the sound rolled around, and echoed, and was superb. Angelic.
There was some special event, for sure. It was INSIDE. Who knew? I'd been looking outside for it.
I looked around. There were two rows of chairs laid out in a circle, and the stairs going up to the upper floors seemed to be acting like a stage. I think it was some African-American heritage thing, involving children. Kelly pulled on my sleeve. "Mom," she whispered, a grin on her face "everyone's black except us!"
I looked around. She was mostly right. But there was one other guy who wasn't black. I tried not to look lost, and when he looked over, I gave him a nice "do you feel as conspicuous as I do?" sheepish grin.
And then the woman who was emcee-ing the event said "And now, ladies and gentlemen, our Mayor, Gavin Newsom!" and the applause burst out, and the guy that I was grinning at stepped up to the mike.
Ok, dumb bunny? That's me.
I'm just glad I didn't say something like "Are you Canadian? Because you look REALLY familiar!"
But you know, he's really quite a hot property in person.
Ladies and Gentlemen, my new boyfriend, Mayor Gavin Newsom.
(please excuse the crappy photo. No flash and a teeny lens on the camera)
