Dear Family,

I know that some of you are sick and tired of hearing about Intestinal Health. (In fact, Athena says that my continual use of the word “Gut” has turned the term into a complete turnoff for her in every possible way. I'm sorry, Sister-Mine--it really would be nicer if instead of discussing our colon or esophagus or anus, we could refer to our “Dulcinea” or “Chatoyant” or “Propinquity.” However, I am just not ready to take on the lexicographers at this present time.)

I just visited North Star in western Massachusetts http://northstarteens.org/ . This is an absolutely, incredibly, indescribably amazing place. North Star helps teens and their parents to bridge the gap between schooling and homeschooling, but it's not a learning co-op, or even an "alternative school." Most particularly, it's for helping kids who are miserable in school, to get out. (See North Star's 7 Guiding Principles, pasted below.)

Dear Family,

I am about to tell you something that's so simple, so very humdrum, that you may just reflexively yawn:

Last weekend, I ate my first hamburger.

Our meat sources are local, very humane farmers who feed their animals exclusively grass. The taste of this meat is not bad (some would say it's fantastic). The texture is chewy, but manageable. But the visceral, non-rational, Pavlovian part of my brain gets pretty damn tense sometimes. “NOOO!” I wanted to scream, readying the gobs of ground meat for the frying pan. “I CANNOT DO THIS!”

Dear Family,

“The thing is, it's very dangerous to have a fixed idea. A person with a fixed idea will always find some way of convincing himself in the end that he is right.”

--Atle Selberg, winner of the 1950 Fields Medal in Mathematics.

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Dear Family,

Jeff and I watched “Sleepless in Seattle” a couple nights ago. There was good acting and lots of great dialogue, and even though I know the world does not need any more movie reviews, I am somehow compelled to share mine anyway:

SPOILER ALERT

1. Man's wife dies (very sad), and he and his young son (a nauseatingly sweet and well-adjusted young man) move to Seattle. Two years later, Son wants Dad to get remarried, and calls a radio show to ask the psychologist/host for advice (subsequently landing Dad with some airtime.)

Dear Family and Friends,

I'm not a completely hopeless romantic, but I totally cried my eyes out during our neighbors' wedding last weekend. As I told Ben and Jem, it was one of the funnest they are ever likely to attend...

Dear Family,

I don't think that Jem's and my bike adventure will make it into “Bicycling” magazine. I (this has at least something to do with having with my breastfeeding toddler in tow) got passed by every single other cyclist we met on road, without exception, and we didn't go very far. Also, our journey contained very little Risk (and additionally, “Bicycling” doesn't usually go for boobs on the cover).

Jem said, 'I wuv you.' to me today, right after he sat quietly next to Ben who was fixing the battery powered airplane. Jem kept kissing Ben on the shoulder while they sat there.

By the time he's done being two years old, he's not going to fit under my jacket in the baby carrier anymore. I hope at that point Jem will also stop waking up well before the sun, but I'm not putting any money on it. And meanwhile, we have our best talks in the morning, when I've dragged myself out of bed and out the door, and he's snuggled into my chest. He likes when the cars go by ("More come cars!"), when he sees a school bus (a "butt"), and he points every time he sees a mailbox ("my-bock").

(Originally published in the March-April issue of "Life Learning" magazine http://www.lifelearningmagazine.com/)

We heard the train just after our car began the uphill ascent, away from the train tracks. Ben struggled to hold back real tears, while I struggled not to feel guilty for not turning back into rush hour traffic to see the train. "Do you think," Ben said, between sniffles, "we'll EVER see another train?" Yes, I assured him, I really thought we would.