I need some good clichés. Like, “My heart is bursting with happiness.” Or, “My cup runneth over,” or something along those lines. Let’s see, how else can I put this? Last night ended a week of rich, rewarding experiences and I am filled up from it all. Geez, this is HARD to express in words. If you haven’t been there you will likely think I’m off my rocker. If you’ve been in my shoes, perhaps you understand what I’m trying to say.  

We said goodbye to Yuki for the last time last night and it was like leaving a son. Olivia almost cried on the way home saying, “I miss Yuki already.” How can one week – one measly week of knowing someone – bring such closeness? I can’t quite express what it is, something about seeing things through the eyes of someone from another culture, and realizing that similarities exist whether you speak the same language or not.  

At the Sayonara send-off party we were to read a letter to our guest telling him what it meant to us to host him and get to know him. So I whipped something up from the family. Little did I know that so did Jay, Zach and Olivia. Jay’s letter was LOVELY. He was obviously very touched by this whole experience and connected with Yuki in a deep, meaningful way. Olivia’s letter was priceless. Unfortunately, it was hand-written so no copies of it remain. The gist of it was this – Yuki was like her other (nicer was scratched out) brother and she hopes he will come back to see us, in fact, bring his whole family back to visit, she said. You know what, that would be just fine with all of us. 

Thankfully, Zach is REALLY good at imitating him so we keep saying, “Do Yuki, do Yuki,” so it’s like we have him here with us if only for a moment. 

One of the senseis told Jay that the Japanese are very loyal. When you make a friend and put an effort into extending your friendship, you will have a friend for life. Well, I hope that’s the case. I’ve never been that great at maintaining long-distance friendships unless the other end helps me keep things going. Hopefully Yuki and his family will stay in touch. It would be well worth it to all of us in my family.  

Remember what I said yesterday about cultural differences and formality and all that? NEVERMIND.

It comes down to this…teenagers are teenagers, no matter from where they hail. Sure, there are some differences. But give them America’s (or Greenland’s or Denmark’s or Portugal’s) Funniest Videos and they will kick back and laugh and make themselves at home.

 Should you decide to host a Japanese student, forget what everyone will tell you about not taking him or her out for sushi. “It will be like taking Zach out to McDonald’s while he’s in Japan,” they warned. First of all, I bet McDonald’s in Japan is quite different than McDonald’s here at home. Not that I would waste my time going to one but that’s a different story. But the same holds true here. Sushi restaurants here are not the same as those in Japan. And anyway, he wanted to experience how our family lives and, guess what, it just so happens that my children’s favorite food is sushi. So we went for out sushi. My gosh, you should’ve seen this kid. He was praising Buddha. I’ve been waiting for the call all day from the school director saying, “Uh, you were a little extravagant last night and all the other visitors are jealous.” I have to say, it was one of the best sushi nights we’ve had. I think going in there and asking if they had anyone who spoke Japanese may have had something to do with it. They were particularly accommodating and made one of the most gorgeous boats we’ve seen.

 A few things I’ve learned from Yuki…Sleep when you need to sleep, even if it's in the car. Walk lightly on your feet. Take food that you want when it’s offered to you without acting sheepish about it even if it’s the last bit on the plate. Pack lightly. Carry small things.

Email from Yuki's dad in response to the photo I sent of Yuki holding Snakey.

"We are relieved to see that he is enjoying to stay in your house. We are looking forward to hear about his doing. Especially, we want to hear what his feeling when he touch the your pet snake."

You gotta love that!

I was just thinking…my kids rock. Remind me that next time I’m getting down on them.

Last night when we sat down to dinner of traditional American hamburgers like Yuki requested, we were all about to eat when I noticed Yuki looking around, a bit unsure. I started to tell him it was fine to eat when Zach folded his hands “namaste-style” and blurted out something in Japanese, to which Yuki responded with the same gesture and words and happily commenced eating. I looked at Zach, I’m sure with an expression of shock and awe, and he said, “That’s what they say before meals.”

Olivia has been the perfect hostess. For once I think Zach appreciates his little sister tagging along and following them everywhere. She seems to know how to lighten things up when it gets awkward.

All right. That’s all I wanted to say. Now I’m off to do my hostessing duties at the outdoor amusement center in 100-degree heat. Sounds like fun.

Our Japanese exchange student, Yuki, arrived yesterday. He’s 13 – 10 days younger than Zach – and he comes from Hiroshima. He attends the Shinonome School which is a sister school to Zach’s middle school. Each year a small group of students and teachers come here at the beginning of school and then a small group of our students and teachers go there at the end of our school year. It’s a rich learning experience for all involved. And hosting a foreign exchange student with minimal English is, well, downright exhausting.

 It’s one thing when you can easily ask someone, “Do you need anything? Are you hungry, thirsty, too hot, too cold, sleepy, etc.?” It’s quite another when little things like that turn into a game of charades and mind reading, as Zach put it this morning. But then having a student from Japan adds a whole other dimension. His cultural upbringing is all about formality and not being so casual and gut-wrenchingly honest like us crass Americans. I can only imagine what we must look like in his eyes. I saw one of the photos Jay took at the welcome celebration that pretty much says it all. I arrived toward the end of the celebration and went over to meet Yuki, who bowed to me politely. I grabbed him and gave him a hug. I figured he needed some maternal affection to stave off homesickness. By the rigidness of his stance I might have figured wrong. Anyway, that’s when Jay snapped the photo of me with my big mouth open and Yuki looking all meek and, well, a bit freaked out.

Ah, but that’s all history. I think he likes us. Well, he might have been starting to until Olivia sicced the snake on him. She just loves terrorizing people with that thing. He’s a great pet. Then, Yuki proceeded to stealthily beat Zach AND Jay in chess, which raised Jay’s hackles and, as much as he tries to restrain it, brought out his competitive nature. The poor kid was so tired but Jay was going, “One more game, just one more game.” I’m just kidding. He might have only said it once.

During the day yesterday, we took Yuki to see some BMX Extreme bike riding. Crikey, those guys are NUTS. Let me ask you, why does one person look at a picnic table and think, “Hmmmm…with a little cleaning and a tablecloth perhaps, this will be a fine place to dine,” while another person looks at it and thinks, “Now, if I can put another picnic table on top of this one, and then add a couple more off to the side, this will be a great place to jump on and off of with my bike.” Veronica, ask Costello about that, would you? I think he’ll have an answer for us. Either way, I think it was a good introduction to crazy Americans.

Then we took him to the rock-climbing wall. “Ever done this?” I asked. “First time,” he replied. We strapped him into a harness and set him loose. And wouldn’t you know it, he climbed right to the top. What a trooper.

I don’t think he’ll go home and say he was bored.

Stay tuned for more. He’ll be here all week.

 So I’m walking out of the New York Bagel Deli with my warm, fresh bagels. It’s right here in Cary and sells freshly made chopped liver (I’ve been calling it pate’ at our soirees and they lick the plate clean), whitefish spread, bialys. They’re awesome. On the marquis above the door it says NYBD, a little play on initials. So I’m walking out and these two guys are walking in and I hear the one ask, “What does the BD stand for?”

Yep, we’re in the south. It may have the word north in it’s name but this is the south, people.

I’m soliciting names for my new, upcoming video keepsake business —  making photo montages and video keepsakes of special life events.  It can be a tribute to someone (like for a bar mitzvah or retirement) or a video keepsake of a family trip, birth of a baby, wedding, graduation, military. Anything really.

Here are a few ideas:

“Pickle Videos – Preserving Memories One Photo At A Time”
“Montage Mahal – Video Keepsakes”
“Forget Me Not Video Albums”

So, feel free to jump right in. I need something catchy. Something clever. Something people can spell when searching it online. And if you have a set of photos from a recent event or something coming up, let’s talk!
   

We’re back from Maine and Mass. What a fun trip! Both states are jam-packed with great food and wonderful sightseeing. It is definitely a trip for die-hard foodies. Too bad my pants don’t fit anymore. Maybe I need to get back in touch with Rigo at the gym. It’s time to start thinking about my CORE again. But first let me get a canoli and cappuccino and tell you about our trip.

The sign upon entering Maine says, “Maine…the way life should be.” Another one further down the road said something like, “Come to visit, end up staying.” Jay says that the signs suckered Mark and Shelley —who are happily becoming Maineards. (Mark’s favorite saying these days is, “I’ve died and gone to heaven.”) 

 I’m very impressed with the knowledge they already have of off-the-beaten path sights and fab restaurants. They tried to swear us to secrecy about our experiences but I explained that I’m a blogger now and therefore nothing can be sacred. It’s all fodder. They are worried about others wanting to invade their newfound utopia, and understandably so. It’s lovely. Truly. But here’s the thing that really stands out …the people are so incredibly nice. I mean NICE!!  

It’s like this. I’m shopping at LL Bean and the checkout lady starts making conversation. “Are you going to the LL Bean concert in the park tonight?” She asks about our visit, where we are from. This happened over and over. It wasn’t just in LL Bean, where I’m sure they are trained to be so helpful and nice. But the fact is they just are. They don’t have to be that way. But they are. As Shelley said, the people there are unaffected. I think it has something to do with the 25 mile an hour speed limits. You just mosey along at the speed limit and get there when you get there. No one gets up on your tail to try to bully you into going faster. That in and of itself makes people nicer I think. That, and the food. Crikey, you’d be happy, too, if you ate lobster rolls all the time. Just say it…lobsta roll. What can you find wrong with a place that claims lobster, clams and blueberries as some of its best food?  

I signed us up for kayaking at the LL Bean Outdoor Discovery Center. Olivia had flashbacks to her Disney days. “Are the kayaks on tracks? Do they go fast? Will we be in rapids?” No, no, and no, unless you paddle strong and hard enough to make them go fast, like Zach the beast did. I tried to race him but, alas, was no match. Still, what fun. I could get hooked on that. It was so peaceful and beautiful. Definitely a highlight of the trip. Along with the chocolate martinis Mark made later that day.  Oh, and the double rainbow over the Portland lighthouse.

We met up with Veronica, Todd and the kids in Boston. Reunited and it felt so good. Doing Boston with them is like some kind of eating marathon. I thought we were bad. Geez. In the middle of a huge, gluttonous lunch at the historic Oyster House Restaurant, the oldest restaurant in America, Todd asks, “What are we going to do for dinner?” Those Sazeras know good food, and good food we all had. Do make it to the North End, aka the Italian district. Italian restaurants and bakeries abound and let me tell you, they are GOOD. You can tell by the throngs of people filling them. Chinatown rocks, too. We didn’t make it to the Ethiopian restaurant but I’m sure that would have been awesome, too. Oh well, next time.  

After four freakin' back and forth trips to the mountains I will be happy not to make that drive for another year. I'm not too upset that Olivia has decided to stick with day camp, either. That means next year we only have to make 2 trips.

My kids are home, safe and sound from their camp experiences. They both came home with lots of stories, smelly laundry and the camp crafts they made. Olivia made a lovely bowl in pottery. On the loom, she wove a colorful piece of cloth the size of a placemat. She also tie-dyed and batiked and did a number of other richly experiential projects.  The first thing she did when she got home, besides clogging the toilet, was request a tick-check while taking a long, hot bath. That's my girl!

Zach chose woodburning, where he made a gigantic clock necklace reminiscent of Flavor Flav, which earned him the camp name of "Boss Hogg". We're so proud of him. He took up slug-licking, which apparently induces a state of euphoria into the licker. We promptly had a talk with him about "Just say no to slugs" and just because your friend jumps off a bridge does that mean you're going to jump off a bridge, too?, to which he answered, "well, yeah, duh!"

We are hitting the road again. I need to leave my blog in your hands for a while, which scares me considering the dogs seem to have taken control of it. But, I must entrust it to you, my fine family and friends, in my absence.

Think of me up in New England, eating lobster, clams, chowda, wild Maine blueberries, etc. I'll return with stories hopefully. Or at least I'll get to read yours.

I’m just starting to get used to this and now it’s almost over.

Gosh it’s nice not worrying over whether we have enough snack foods in the house. Or having to keep up with everyone’s schedule. Or being the drill sergeant who makes sure everyone is doing something productive, practicing their music, blah, blah, blah.

Jay and I come and go as we please. We take our time working out at the club since no one needs to get to bed at any certain time. We watch R rated movies. We make plans on the fly. “What do you want for dinner?” “I dunno. Let’s just make margueritas and see what we feel like later.” Life is good.

I just watched that damn video montage from Zach’s bar mitzvah and now I’m blubbering my eyes out.

I better call Jay and make sure he’s filled up the tank for our drive back to the mountains. And I’ll go by Trader Joe’s to get Zach all his favorite munchies for the car ride home. And I’ll put clean sheets on the bed for him since he’s probably been sleeping in filth the past couple of weeks.

Time to check the photo pages. TTFN.

I slept in late. I got a little bit of work done. But then I’ve been obsessing over the photo websites where, in theory, you’re supposed to be able to see your campers having a grand time engaging in all kinds of enriching camp activities. I am hitting the refresh button so many times it’s starting to wear thin. I mean, throw me a bone. I’m going to have a talk with these camp photographers. Out of 300 some odd photos there is not a single one of my girl child. I think she’s bolted. She’s probably living off the land somewhere in the mountains.

Zach’s camp apparently takes the weekend off and finally posted a few new photos just moments ago. He can be seen in a watering hole with a bunch of little kids. I’m pretty sure they made him a counselor. He’ll probably come home with a paycheck. In fact, I think I’m right about that because in the last batch of photos from Friday or whenever it was, he was in a ring of kids teaching them how to juggle. At least I know he’s still there.

More later.