A Time to Kvell

Dune buggying in Peru

Mean streets on the Upper East Side

These are recent photos of my kids. Mariel is working in a slumburg of Lima, Peru for a year. Here you see her (always in control) driving the volunteers around a "desert oasis" some four hours from Lima. So far, she seems to be loving her experience there, noting that where she lives there's constant dirt everywhere. Like Pigpen, a cloud of it follows you around, and as soon as you step out of the shower, you're a dirt bag. She's learned how to play chess and to "fix" a broken refrigerator. She's perfecting her put-downs of creepy men on the street who try to engage her in conversation. She failed to learn this at Swarthmore.

That's Harry and Mark outside my apartment building, wearing Columbia blue. Harry spent the summer living with us, unable to find a job that didn't involve biking around the treacherous streets of Manhattan, delivering food. I nixed that idea and lived with the consequences. He's a lovely young man, but our apartment isn't that large, and he's used to his privacy and sloppy sprawl. Mark, who's in disguise, spent the summer road-tripping, doing odd jobs here and there (mostly in Maine) and training endlessly for the cross-country season. He dyed his hair black, because as a blond, his facial hair seemed non-existent. It's all shaved off now, but I do wonder what his next makeover will entail.

I didn't brag nearly enough. Next time.