On his final Day as Head of School at the Harborlight-Stoneridge Montessori School, David Hursty arrived by ice cream truck!! He’ll be missed!

Author: Nichole S.
Hale Street Tavern
With one day of school left this is how we teachers roll! The Tango Roll is super yummy!!!
You’re Welcome!
4 More Days of School Lunches to Pack!!
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, we Schraffts are summer people. Let there be no mistake that I love my job… and I mean no offense to my amazing little students, but the count down to summer vacation is almost more excitement than I can even stand. Total giddiness….epic warm fuzzies.
Sure, beach days, quick getaways, sleeping in, music on lawns, margaritas on decks, sushi feeding frenzies, long nights by the fire pit and dirty, salty, and happy kids = a happy mom, but one of the most exciting parts of summer vacations is NO MORE LUNCH PACKING.
Possibly you can’t relate to this. So forgive me. But, lunch packing is my least favorite thing…ever. It isn’t that its hard…it is just so damn Ground Hog’s Day. Unpack the lunch boxes, soak the containers, wash, rinse, dry….and repack. Ugh. It doesn’t necessarily help that I started to put a little photo in each of the boys’ lunch boxes when they were toddlers and now neither of them will let me stop. SOOOO….factor in the “pick-a-photo-and-wrap-it-in-the-shark-print-cloth-napkins-that-they-like-to-use” step…and I’m S.P.E.N.T.
That brings me to my point. The school where I teach…and that my boys attend…has a “Green Initiative”. It is suggested, but obviously not mandated, that the children have as little trash as possible in their lunch boxes. Now, complain as I have about the process of packing lunches, I am more than happy to do my part to not only leave a smaller footprint, but to also teach my boys that we need to be conscious of our impact on our environment and good friend, Planet Earth.
So, we buy big containers of yogurt and scoop daily amounts into small lunch containers. My boys drink ice water from reusable water bottles and don’t use juice boxes, etc. We don’t use little snack bag sized things like goldfish or chips…we just throw a handful or so into one of their reusable containers from the bigger bag.
The boys and I were talking earlier about the fact that today is World Oceans Day and that caused me to remember a friend’s reaction when she saw me packing the boys’ lunches one evening. It had never occurred to her to pack lunch “that way” (as she put it) and she was happy to start.
So, while packing lunches as a whole will remain annoying to me, I guess I am at least happy that we are doing our part. I’m glad the boys are learning a lesson….and, if there happens to be an ocean animal living life better somewhere because of our lack-of-lunch-trash then ever better. A win-win.
Happy (day after) World Oceans Day!!
Check out photos of the humpbacks feeding out on Stellwagen Bank from Cape Ann Whale Watch.
You Can Get There From Here
B.R.I.L.L.I.A.N.T, I tell you!!!
Where has this been all my life!?
I can’t buy one fast enough. The problem is that the places that really need them will never install them. What a beautiful world this could be!!
For Hire…if you need a fire pit.
A little bit of elbow grease never hurt anyone. Its about time the boys start pulling some weight around the house for pete’s sake.
Loving our new fire pit!! A totally fun afternoon project for VERY little $$$! And…the boys and I were very proud of ourselves…which is a bonus. Had we been thinking we would have saved this project for Father’s Day….damn.
Why Teach? Here’s Why.
“Why teach?” you may ask. Well, here’s reason #9,827 why I do what I do.
A great day in the classroom.
“CARPOCALYPSE NOW”
Who knew! Well, I, for one, did not. I am quite certain, however, that some of GMG’s savvy followers are well aware of this problem, but it was news to me!
While some of the video footage of these highflying Asian Carp pelting boaters near the Great Lakes may seem funny at first, evidently this is a huge problem and a cause for great concern.
Not to make light, but it was hard to not envision this happening to us while boating down the Annisquam River or in the waters of Gloucester or Rockport Harbor. Not sure what I would do. It also reminded me of the time that we were fishing in the Sea of Cortez and I asked the captain, “What type of bird are those that are flying in and out of the water?” only to be answer with a giggle and, “Well, those swimming birds are actually flying fish.” I blame it on the coronas.
Article on Chicago’s Looming Asian Carp Problem
Disclaimer: Please forgive the language on this one. If you’re easily offended, turn down the volume. But this video shows how extreme this carp onslaught can be!
Live Blogging from Cape Hedge Beach
The sun is out, the wind is starting to subside, the beach is scattered with about 6 families, and we can back to school/work in the morning with one beach day under our belts and sand in our flip flops 🙂
Getting My Happy on at The Studio
Ok, friends, summer can start. We’ve finally hit the deck at the Studio. And…it did not disappoint.
I went to one of the “soft openings” at the Studio back in the fall and have been eagerly anticipating clocking some hours there ever since. Being the long weekend…and Thatcher’s birthday to boot…Saturday was the day.
We went by boat. Out of Rockport Harbor, around Halibut Point, down the Annisquam River, under the A. Piatt Andrew, and on into Gloucester Harbor….where we were greeted by the Thomas E. Lannon (a sight that never gets old).
We ate some manchego cheese in olive oil (which I could eat every day for the rest of my life), tuna maki rolls, the red dragon roll (maybe one of my favorite sushi rolls of all time), fish and chips, and some pork ribs. Everything was delicious….as was my cocktail (a muddled grapefruit something or other) and the decadent dessert that was brought over by our waiter (equally as decadent…kidding..kind of) for Thatcher’s birthday.
We went inside briefly to visit with some friends and it was hopping! It was crowded in that “everyone is giddy that summer is here and they’re enjoying awesome food and cocktails with friends” kind of jovial way. My favorite kind of way.
I can’t get back there soon enough and highly recommend that you do the same!
I Want to Hang With This Guy…
Oh, lookie here, cool…a ball.
Courtesy of SBNation.
Best catch in baseball so far this year…..someone sign this guy.
Greasy fingers and all…
I like the guy in the Sox shirt (as opposed to the Hartford Whalers) in the foreground. You can almost hear him say, “Wait. What? How? Shit.”
While I Like to Keep My Husband on a Short Leash…..
While I like to keep my husband on a short leash….I’ve never put one of my children on a leash. First of all, I’m kidding, I don’t keep my husband on a short leash. He may disagree with that statement however… so maybe I should change it to “I don’t mean to keep my husband on a short leash”. At any rate, that isn’t the point here. The point is that I’ve never put my kids on a leash. So, I am wondering who has? Or who thinks it is okay? Or who thinks it is abominable? Or who sees pros and cons?
Today I saw, what I am guessing to have been, a mother and a grandmother walking (literally) a toddler down the sidewalk…on a leash. I am not trying to cast judgement. I do not claim to be a perfect parent. For example….. there was the time that I let Thatcher lay in bed with my husband and forgot to transfer him to his own bed. I went into the bedroom later to find my husband sound asleep and 2 year-old Thatcher WIDE EYED with the sheets pulled up to his nose watching, none other than, the Gladiator on the TV. Excellently appropriate movie for a toddler. And then there was the time that my husband bought air freshener that looked alarmingly like the can of Pan Nonstick Spray and I used it to make the boys some grilled cheese sandwiches. I didn’t even realize that I had done so until my husband asked, “Why is the air freshener in the Lazy Susan?” a couple of days later. And, just today, as I was trying desperately to choose one hanging plant and a few perennials….and all the boys wanted to do was play bumper cars with the garden carts….and Wolf Hill was closing in 5 minutes…I absolutely said some words of encouragement for better behavior that I am now, in hindsight, not proud of. Nor, for the record, were they effective.
Soooooo, I digress. I am by no means perfect, but the kid on a leash thing is something that I haven’t quite wrapped my head around. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel (or look I guess) more than a bit wrong to me. I am all about Safety First…I really am. So, if you have a runner and you really think that your child is going to dart into traffic with no advanced warning….then maybe a leash is the way to go? Likewise, if you are in an incredibly busy place…like, say, Disney World or the Running of the Bulls in Pamploma (in which case, I suppose, whether or not to use a leash would probably not be the parental decision that would be in question), I guess I can see the merit. We, as parents, have always opted for strollers or simple hand-holding. That having been said, we did once suffer through a horrifically long 2 or 3 minutes of not being able to find Finn at the New England Aquarium. While I guess, if I had to pick sides, I would call myself anti-leash, a leash would have prevented that from happening. So, I ask you honestly, what are your thoughts?
Davio’s….A Good Call.
My mom, sister, and I went to Davio’s for an early dinner on Saturday to celebrate Mother’s Day together. We made a reservation, but upon walking in, decided to sit at the bar since it was fairly empty and the dining room was filling up quickly…and was kind of loud. Besides, when Mom says, “Do you want to eat at the bar?” you do it!
We split 5 items from the “Piccoli Antipasti”, “Marchi”, and “Piatti Del Bar” sections of the menu. All of it was incredibly fantastic. The sangria was perfectly amazing also!!! And then….came the dessert cart. Bliss!







Mother’s Day Through the Years
Mother’s Day….what a happy, special, sometimes bittersweet holiday…to celebrate or remember…or wish and hope, or feel an overwhelming rush of mixed emotions.
The happiest of my Mother’s Days have been the most recent. I’ve been so fortunate for the past six Mays to not only honor and cherish my own mom, but also feel the joy of being a mom to two fantastically amazing, gorgeous, and rambunctious boys. But, not a Mother’s Day goes by that I don’t think of those who have already said “good-bye” to their own moms…..or who secretly feel an extra pang of sadness while others are celebrating because they’ve either so badly wished for children and have not been so blessed….or, unimaginably, they have had to watch their children leave this earth before them.
Not a Mother’s Day goes by that I don’t take a quiet moment to say “thanks” and to give pause to honor anyone who may secretly be hurting rather than celebrating.
My Mother’s Days have spanned over four decades….and, possibly like yours, they have run the emotional gamut.
1972: My mom’s first Mother’s Day as the mother of me (she had already welcomed my older brother and sister into the world and was, by then, a pro).
1972-1989: My school-aged years. I’m sure I went back and forth as children do between celebrating my mom and missing the opportunity to celebrate her enough in my adolescent naive years. I’m sure I made a slew of clay ashtrays (even though she never smoked) in addition to other art teacher inspired gifts. I’m sure I wrote some poems, but I’m equally as sure I never attempted to cook for her or give her breakfast in bed…as that has never been an area of strength. I’m sure that some years I made her smile with my thoughtfulness and other years, I am ashamed to say, I probably didn’t do nearly enough. Either way she was always the most amazing, most inspiring, and bravest mom I know. And still is.
1990-1994: My college years. I hope, dear goodness, that I at least called during these years. I was away in Virginia attending college and living the life. For which I have her to thank. And yet, I probably didn’t thank her nearly enough.
1995-2001: Grown-up Mother’s Day. My clay ashtray making days were well behind me…and at some point school systems caught on to the fact that making ashtrays was not very PC. We had some lovely trips to the White Barn Inn in Kennebunkport, maybe a polo match or two, and some shopping sprees. Mother’s Day as a grown-up celebrating my mom gave me that much more respect for all that she did.
2002: As a newly wed, Mother’s Day this year was full of “when will you have children?” or….even more importantly, between my husband and I, “Are we ready to have children?”
2003-2004: Loving being married, loving to travel, loving long days of boating and playing bocci ball on the beach….but, starting to think maybe there is more….
2005: This was the Mother’s Day of trying like crazy to get pregnant….and starting to get irrationally angry that it wasn’t working out.
2006: Having finally gotten pregnant, this was the Mother’s Day I had been waiting for. The Mother’s Day where I would be almost 7 months pregnant and glowing. But…it wasn’t in the cards. This, instead, had somehow morphed (which seems like an odd word, but describes it perfectly in my memory) as the year that we lost our baby during pregnancy. This was the Mother’s Day that not only was I sad…but angry and bitter. This was the Mother’s Day that I had also learned that tumors had developed where the baby once was….and, soon there after, unkindly spread to my lungs. This was the Mother’s Day that I was in and out of Boston doing some over night rounds of chemo. This was the Mother’s Day that my oncologist told us that trying to conceive again in the near future was out of the question…even though there was already a crib in our basement and 1/2 of a journal written to the baby that would never be. This was the Mother’s Day that I did anything other than handle matters gracefully.
2007: This was the Mother’s Day that, despite my doctors telling me that the best decision would be to terminate my new pregnancy because of the risk to my own health, I had refused and was now just 2 short weeks from welcoming a baby boy into this world. This was the Mother’s Day that I was overcome with joy….and fear. This was the Mother’s Day that I was elated….and terrified. After Thatcher was born there would be follow up appointments to see if my tumors had come back….and those results haunted me.
2008: This was my 1st Mother’s Day…as a mom. CatScans and follow-up appointments confirmed that no tumors had reoccured and Thatcher was amazingly healthy…as was I. Thatcher was just 2 weeks away from turning 1 and there had never been a happier time in our lives. Still, the hole…and the sadness, was there. As was the thought, of “what if I had listened?”
2009: Blessed again, this was the Mother’s Day that Finn was just 6 weeks away from gracing us with his incredibly vibrant presence. This was the Mother’s Day that I was beyond grateful for our good fortune, but secretly felt like I was depriving Thatcher of being our baby by bringing home a new child before he was yet to turn 2.
2010-2014: These have been the greatest of all. These have been the Mother’s Days that I have been in awe of how much the boys have grown and how crazy motherhood can be. These have been the Mother’s Days that I don’t want to let the boys out of my sight, but, man, would I give anything for a night away. These have been the Mother’s Days that I know I should spend the day going for bike rides with the boys and relishing in the motherhood that I so desperately fought for…but, sometimes I secretly wish that a moment of Mother’s Day involved margaritas with my other “mom friends.” These are the days when I sit and smile as they play nicely side by side….and then think, “When was the last time I brushed my teeth?”
I am keenly aware, however, that there are others who are somewhere else on this Mother’s Day spectrum today. And my heart aches for them…for whatever the reason.
Happy Mother’s Day to you all, whether you are celebrating or remembering….whether you are happy or sad. Whether you are full of hope and dreams…or whether you are desperately wishing for a moment to brush your teeth and read a magazine 🙂
So good, for real!!
I’m a sucker for ricotta on my pizza…or on anything else for that matter. We ordered a pizza from Mike’s Place in Gloucester the other night and it was unbelievable. I’ve been jonesing for some sweet sauce pizza since one of GMG’s podcasts months ago that discussed a theory on favorite pizzas and it was finally my turn to pick the pizza. So ridiculously yummy…
Melenzane
Breaded eggplant, caramelized onions, ricotta and mozzarella with Mike’s favorite-sweet pizza sauce
The “Magic Genius”
I knew this was a slippery slope the moment I opened my mouth. But, there was no turning back. Again, weak and vulnerable, and being peppered with questions, I let my guard down. This time, however, I was surprised to get off the hook…and surprised, dammit, to wish that I wasn’t left alone so quickly.
Once again, this little story comes from a day at the farm. Last week, we left school and went out to get some mini golf and ice cream gift cards for two of Thatcher’s friends who were having a joint party. (No, not a “joint” party….that would be wildly inappropriate for boys turning 8!! Although, those would be some parents that might be a trip to hang with). I digress. Anyway, with gift cards in hand, and our own ice creams to boot, we went around back to see the cows (again).
Somehow the question, “Are these cows boys or girls?” came up. I should have seen the writing on the wall….but my almond joy ice cream was dripping down my arm and a tractor was heading right for us. The next several questions led to a dissertation on cows. I explained to them, within the best of my ability, that most of the cows we were seeing were girls…or heifers…and that boy “cows” are actually called bulls. And that the bulls were kept separate.
Obviously….the next question was “Why are they kept separate?” Sigh….here it comes. “Well, this is a dairy farm and it is the girl cows who provide the milk…so that they can make gallons of milk that you saw and the ice cream that you’re eating. They don’t need the bulls for that. But, they have some bulls around so that they can have more baby cows (like the one we watched being born last year)…some of which grow up to be the next dairy cows. You see? Ok, let’s go see the goats.“
So….you can see where this is going. It went down a little something like this….
Finn: Because it takes a daddy cow and a mommy cow to make a baby cow.
Me: That’s right, Finn.
Thatcher: (Because now, thankfully, Finn is suddenly more enthralled with the massive amounts of pee coming from one of the cows…and why there is smoke rising as it pelts the ground) So, how does the daddy cow help make the baby cow?
Me: Oh, that’s a story for another day.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m usually a fan of full disclosure…but, by 5:00…after a full day of getting the boys ready for school, out of the house, into their classrooms and then walking down the hallway to teach in my own classroom all day long, I have already answered approximately 3,741 questions…and I’m tired!! So, “How are baby cows made?” is going to have to wait until I’m on my A Game. Whenever the hell that might be.
Unbelievably though, for the first time EVER, the questions stopped. The silence was down right scary. It was uncomfortable and unchartered territory. I knew I should leave it alone, relish in it even, but it was so foreign to me, that I was confused. I thought about explaining more, but I let the quiet settle in….and I liked it. After a few seconds, I even allowed myself to think, “Ok….well then…go with it…we’re good.“ But just then…just when I thought I was in the clear…the little bugger piped up…and with a sinister little chuckle.
Me: What? What’s so funny?
Thatcher: Well, I just figured it out.
Me: Figured what out?
Thatcher: I mean…so… the mother cow has to lug the baby around in her belly…but that’s it. Its the daddy cow who must be a G.E.N.I.U.S….because he’s the magic one who gets the baby in there in the first place.
And then Finn: Yup, the daddy cow is the magic genius.
….and then, just like that, they happily ran off to see the goats. Comfortable with the new found realization that they too will grow up some day to be the geniuses who do all the magic to “get the baby in there” so the mothers can simply lug the babies around.
Efff! Don’t get me wrong…my husband is a very smart man who amazes me often with the knowledge he can impart on our children. However, I figured that in regards to freakin’ pregnancy…just maybe, for once, I would be the magic genius. But, alas, no. Daddy is both magic and a genius. And, “getting the baby in there” is an act of genius! Fanfreakintastic. My boys are going to be big hits with whatever poor teacher is charged with the task of educating them in a sex ed class years from now.
That’s ok, though. Both boys have birthdays coming up within the next two months…..and guess who isn’t going to go all Pintrest Genius on their asses the way I normally do?!?! Kidding…kind of.
And, to all you parents of daughters out there, I promise I will set them straight when the time is right. Or better yet, I’ll defer to the genius.
From the album Genius Loves Company…. 0f course
Live Blogging From The EMC Club
Happy Birthday Wally!!!! XOXO
Morning Tide Fishing…with killer accents.
These guys are tremendous….Yikes!!!!
























