A September Weekend

Not typical, but I've come to realize that most aren't. There's always something. This time, the excessive rain we've been experiencing since August finally caught up with us. Everyone was in a panic for Hurricane Irene, which we were thankfully home for. Damp basement, yes. But with the power flowing throughout the storm, our sump pump ran almost nonstop and prevented anything more than a few puddles from forming in the basement. Different story the Wednesday after school started. The rain didn't let up all night. We received a 5 a.m. call from the school district that there was a 2 hour delayed start due to the weather. After shutting everyone's alarm, I went back to sleep. We were still hearing the pump running, and there was no evidence of a power failure so we were shocked to find signs of a greater volume of water in our basement. It was gone by the time we looked, at 8:30 or so. But the damage was done. Clothing in the dryer was soaked, stuff was moved and tipped over and rubbermaid containers that had always been 'tall' enough, weren't. I was heartbroken to come across a container of fully submerged cook books. Cook books dating back to the early 80's. Cook books that were there because I wasn't using them, but couldn't bear to part with them. Thirteen cook books, into the recycling bin. And then Marc discovered another rubbermaid container full of cook books, also saturated. These brought the grand total to over thirty. Again, I hadn't been using these recently, but there were several that I would have kept forever. Cook books from my days at MTS -- recipes submitted by employees. I enjoyed looking at them. Remembering people I no longer saw. A Martha Stewart cook book, her first, that I purchased in 1982. It soon made me realize I had no desire to be like her, but I enjoyed looking at the pictures! And several cook books that were gifts. Gone. A part of the high recycling points rewarded to us that week. (we're part of a program that gives points for recycling based on weight, and that bin was especially heavy that Friday!)

But the effects of the rain didn't end in our basement. Nick's School of Rock Funk and Reggae show was this weekend. Rehearsal Thursday evening, shows Friday and Saturday. But our Ft. Washington School of Rock flooded for the second, or was it the third, time this summer, which necessitated traveling to the not-so-nearby Main Line School of Rock location. For the rehearsal Thursday. For the show Friday. And for the show Saturday. It's a great venue, but the last minute change of plans kept us hopping all weekend. I had to remind myself that our inconvenience paled in comparison to what Steve at the SOR was going through. Again.

The show was fabulous, despite the last minute changes. We loved the show. It was quite possibly my favourite! I loved the music and loved that people were dancing instead of moshing. Yeah, I'm old!

And one of my favourite of the night:

Dancing sibs. Adorable!!

Normally, we like to attend both of Nick's shows. But we had other plans for Saturday night and Nick's blessing. Gaby had the opportunity to be a player escort for our MLS team, the Philadelphia Union, at Saturday night's game. The way Nick put it, if he had the opportunity, he would miss Gaby's concert for it. So with our 3 tickets instead of 4, we headed to the Union game.

We were advised to be there at 6:15, to give the kids sufficient time to get changed and briefed. Our soccer club had held a random drawing of interested kids, eleven and under, and sent a group of eleven. We were thrilled to see our neighbor Abbey was one of the group.

The kids and three parent chaperones, of which I was one, were escorted into a locker room just for them. And the kids escorting the opposing team from Portland. And the ball kids. The player escorts were all provided with full uniforms -- shirts, shorts and socks -- which were hanging under their name. Very cool!

We continued the hurry up and wait game, with the kids donning their uniforms, and then waiting around til it was time.

Check out her name!

Gaby and Abbey.

Marc caught the action on video, and we parent escorts were allowed to hang at field level while the kids were out there.

Gaby with her player, #8, Torres.

After the national anthem, the kids ran off the field, back to the locker room, and we packed up and returned to our seats. To watch our Union hold Portland scoreless. Zero zero.

For our soccer crazy girl, it was an amazing experience -- one she'll remember for a long time. She's planning to be back at PPL Park in three years, when she'll be old enough to be a ball girl.

Being September 10th, there was a special tribute before the game, recognizing the 10th anniversary of the September 11th attacks. Earlier on Facebook, a friend had shared a post suggesting a way to mark the date would be to bake something to share with local police or firefighters. Gaby was on board, of course. So on Sunday morning, she baked brownies, I baked pumpkin bread, we packaged both, and took them to our local police department.

They were happy to receive it, and the next week I came home to the empty container between the front doors, with a lovely note of thanks attached. Nice of them!