When we moved back to the UK after the first of two stints in the NYC suburbs during the middle of elementary school (yes it’s confusing), our new house had an extra bedroom that our parents “gave” to my twin sister and I as our playroom. It was a fair sized space with a tiny wash basin in the left corner as you walked in which we thought was fancy. Facing you were thick maroon floor to ceiling velvet curtains to keep out the damp English chill that can creep in through hundred year old windows. The surrounding floral wallpaper was chosen to compliment the curtains but you could never really see it from behind the National Geographic map inserts and art class projects hanging on the walls.

One of my most fond memories of the playroom and that time in my life was when we turned it into a museum. My sister and I took on the roles of archeologist, archivist, curator, and thanks to some crafty ticket-making, docent (our patient Mum was the most frequent patron of our museum). We scoured the house for artifacts, created some of our own to round out the collection and after some research jazzed up with a dash of creative license, we composed thoughtful note cards explaining each piece, highlighting its importance and likely date of origin. It was the best. game. ever. Coming in close second was any occasion when I was reading through World Book Encyclopedia. So deep is my genuine enjoyment for information, trivia, random things.

Infographics and motion graphics rest in one of the highest echelons of my nerd heart – not only do they convey information which I adore, they do so with deft use of aesthetics. Just delightful! Below is a sampling:

• Quinoa (a staple in our household – it goes in pretty much everything)
• Which Professions Drink the Most Coffee
• 29 Ways to Stay Creative
• How Not to Suck at Designing Infographics #meta
• 12 things to do after you write a blog post (which I still probably won’t do)
• Field Guide to Typographic Mustaches
• Pretty much anything else at all you can think of

Do you have any you love, made you laugh, found compelling enough to change your thoughts/behavior?

Late last week as I walked to the office from my garage, I stumbled across a tweet from StoryCorps about 9/11. I waited until I got to my desk before pulling the piece up.

Listen | StoryCorps – Shelli Wright and Graham Haggett

Digging deeper, I learned that StoryCorps – the well loved and known folks who record stories about Americans by Americans from all walks of life – is undertaking to curate at least one story for each life that was lost 11 years ago today. Their 9/11 Initiative has already logged over 1200 pieces representing over 600 sons, daughters, friends, parents, neighbors, colleagues …

I’ve wrestled over the years how to spend the eleventh of September, how to remember it. On the eleventh of September in 2001 after I watched the second plane hit and both towers crumble on as the news cameras captured it alongside my coworkers less than half a mile down the road from Langley, I went home under that plane-less sky save for the fighter jet flyovers and watched CNN for almost 12 hours straight. I was transfixed trying to grapple with what happened, what was happening and what was to come.

Today when I woke up the DC morning felt so arrestingly similar to that terrible day, clear cloudless air slightly chilled, it took my breath. Through the welcome distractions of our preschool classroom open-house, inbox task lists, and a solo bedtime routine, I’ve had little chance to consider the indelible meaning today holds. Now at the end of the day, I’ve decided I’m going to honor those who lost and those who were lost by listening to their stories. After all, telling our story is one of the most universal human traits we share.

Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. philipians 4:5

Earlier this summer dear friends of ours invited us to enjoy time at their mountain home not too far from where we live. It was tricky navigating our two young girls through a house full of things that weren’t theirs until we discovered the snake. The seventy inch, fluffy plush, neon tie dye snake. For our eldest daughter it was love at first sight.

Following severe thunderstorms that night we were packing up the car before lunchtime and explaining that the snake was, in fact, not joining us for berry picking and the drive home.

If you’ve ever seen footage from the 60’s of girls descending into hysteria over the Beatles then you would have a good image in your mind of what our older daughter, who’s just shy of 4 mind you, was like when we broke the news about leaving her reptilian buddy.

I rarely get things for the girls out of guilt if ever, and since we have a toy-in-toy-out to Goodwill rule in our house the girls don’t hound us for new things. However. The degree of sincere heartbreak we were witnessing compelled me to look for some solution.

It turned out this wee beastie was created and sold several years ago by Ikea – the Djungelorm – and was no longer for sale (of course it wouldn’t be). It came in two ‘colors’ – solid green and insane, the latter of which was particularly rare (of course it would be). So off to eBay I trotted.

It was a veritable online marketplace miracle that I found not one, but TWO crazy snakes for sale. In England!!! Several emails later and an extended time through the US customs processing department, these two indescribably silly creatures arrived to our door.

I paid three times the price of the snakes themselves to ship them to the US – though all told it was under thirty bucks. The girls were elated and gladly parted with two of their old toys to donate. Thank you, thank you eBay you glorious magic maker!

What are some of the oddest things you’ve found on eBay? Let’s start a list!! Ooh, maybe we’ll start a new board on Pintrest.

P.S. In hunting for images for this post, I came across a YouTube video where a Djungelorm is teaching beginners Italian. It. Is. Priceless. #mustsee

Our annual pilgrimage to Maine has to include two specific outings to complete my northern vacation trifecta: visit and enjoy time with my family, enjoy the best local ice cream, and peruse the dizzying aisles at the local Renys, “Your Maine Department Store”.

Smack dab in the middle of the town, Renys is the Walmart of yesteryear but with more panache. It’s a must-go for all your farm gear, foreign foodie delicacies, and everything in between. All mixed together. Like an curious scavenger hunt with no clue list. Note the pool toys next to the sheet sets, and the rugs near the toys and women’s clothing …

You can spend a good afternoon getting lost among the cramped shelves in sheer consumer paralysis, or in my case complete joy-filled fascination. It’s oddly centering to hunt through the seeming chaos and it satisfies my urge to find a good bargain. Even if it is nabbig a well priced lobster-shaped maple syrup sugar confection to thank my colleague for filling in for me while away on our trip to Maine.

Right before you arrive in town-center of Farmington nestled in central Maine, you’ll drive past a house with an enormous billboard on its roof touting inexplicable yet intriguing phrases (e.g. “Tomorrow a man will walk in the park wearing nothing but a diaper. Is that legal?”), cross over a bridge spanning a narrow river, and as you pass the little league field on your right you’ll see this sign across the street:

As you pull into your parking space, you are welcomed by this letter and you begin to surmise that you have arrived at a place that aims for perfection. In the form of ice cream. Hello bliss.

There are dozens of different flavors but there are a select few that are worth serious consideration.

I always cheer internally when presented with a few choices – a point we’ll have to discuss later – and I picked my current fave, Moose Tracks with a sugar cone. A perfect blend of award-winning vanilla ice cream with adequate numbers of peanut butter cups hidden among ribbons of rich and slight gritty (in a decadent, sugary way) fudge.

Wikipedia’s entry on perfection begins with a broad definition, “a state of completeness and flawlessness”, and I hazard to say that most of us would add the caveat, that perfection is not attainable here and now. But oh how I enjoy seeing when people strive for it. All the more so when we get to experience it.

We decided to bring back enough for everyone. Because, of course, when you find something that flirts with perfection it has to be shared.

What have you found this summer that was so good, so spectacular that you felt compelled to share it?