Summer solstice harvesting

Our annual trip to the strawberry patch, this time with Daddy Pat!

Our weekly share from our Community Supported Agriculture

making popsicles with grapes from *last year's* harvest in my new molds

Honey, I shrunk Daddy Pat!

Trip to Colorado

Sitting on a rock.

Eating sweet corn

Who looks happier? Me or Zoe?

Riding a bike on the Wii

My "New Name"

My last name has certainly raised several eyebrows amongst the maternal side of the family, including my great Aunt who happens to be the resident Genealogist and has had 5 last names herself by calling my last name a "Geneaologist's nightmare." But there's nothing more special than to hold onto a family name and remember the special grandparents in our life we never got to know.

While we'll have to see where my last name takes me, and hope the (traditionally conservative) US Citizen and Immigration folks let it go through without a hitch, everyone moving to New York City has to have a unique name, right? Especially one that can fit on the back of a soccer jersey. A unique name that stands out from the rest of the millions of other people who shove their way onto the subway, crowded sidewalks, etc. And provocative. My mother wants to write this name down just in case anyone ever tries to take credit for it. Whether I become an athlete, a performing artist, a nurse, a mathematician, a literary scholar, a humanitarian, or an ordinary person with an ordinary life I have to have a nick name that is extraordinary "just in case" my other name doesn't fit in the boxes. My parents often call me "Stinker" or "Stinky" but I'll probably hate them for it one of these days. So, my nickname could be Anya HaHo. Now how's that?