It’s the perfect time of year, somewhere far away from here.

It actually was the perfect time, especially of that year. July. I’d just graduated from high school. My friends had started that awkward dance of preparing for a new life while pretending nothing would change between us. We didn’t know what the future held, which is true all the time, but in that exceptional moment we were aware of it.

We finally got our trees, at least the back yard. You are looking at the proud host of a freshly planted catalpa and river birch (the red maple will have to wait till the autumn for planting as none were available).

The river birch will surely be a mighty thing one day.

And the catalpa was a real plot twist, arriving fully denuded but sprouting lush leaves within just a few days after planting.

Spring has arrived in DC, which means cherry blossoms and warmer weather. Last weekend, my daughter and I went to the National Kite Festival, an annual tradition I’ve enjoyed since I first started living here that I now get to share with my kids.

Warm weather has also brought a new daily battle with our daughter over whether today is a Shorts Day. It’s a confusing time of year. Some days are cold and wet, some are oppressively warm. Some days can’t make up their minds.

My first bike was red. Red tires, red handlebars, red seat. We lived on a dead end street in the suburbs, and once I learned to ride that thing I was out on the pavement wheeling around from sunup to the last glimmers of daylight. As I got older I learned how to repair a flat tire, and eventually how to replace those red tires once I’d worn them bald (due to excessive bodacious skids). Then I got curious and started taking the whole thing apart. I loved that it was machine I could understand and master even as a kid.

Our house is getting a new phone.

It’s called a Tin Can. If you spend a lot of time mingling with the kindergarten set, these things are white hot right now. Go to any playground in America and you’re bound to hear parents chatting about them.

There’s not a parent I know who isn’t worried about kids and technology.

That’s why the Tin Can exists. If it weren’t for the underlying fear we have of internet safety, it would be a laughable invention, like Elon Musk “inventing” public buses, or Adam Neumann coming up with the concept of roommates.

What job did you want to have when you were a kid?

For me, the answer was “inventor.”

I wanted to build robots and cool spy gadgets. I couldn’t really understand why nobody had thought of making a car that could fly yet, but I figured I could handle that easily once I reached adulthood, or at least 13. My greatest triumph in science class came in 8th grade, when I had to build a mousetrap demonstrating the use of simple machines. The minimum was 5; mine had 60+.

We bought a new house in 2024 with a big (for DC) back lawn. When we moved in, having a carpet of grass that was mine felt luxurious. But I realized pretty quickly that grass on its own is boring. You know what isn’t boring?

Trees.

After a little poking around online, we found RiverSmart Trees program, which plants shade trees for DC residents for free. This week, a friendly tree-lover showed up at our door in a baseball cap holding a giant tape measure.

I spent the holidays home with both our kids, which was both deeply rewarding and exhausting. This weekend we’re taking a grownups-only trip to New York, and I have a little time to think and finally pull together all my favorite books of the last year.

The Director, by Daniel Kehlmann

This might have been my favorite book of the whole year. It’s a novel loosely based on the life of D.W. Griffith, a film director in the early days of filmmaking. Kehlmann’s story begins in Hollywood, where Griffith was languishing in the 1920’s before abruptly deciding to return home to Austria moments before Hitler annexed it. Kehlmann’s storytelling is taut without being melodramatic–a remarkable accomplishment given the world-historical events that take place around Griffith as he finds himself ensnared in Hitler’s regime and still trying to make movies. There is a deeply moving scene involving a gathering of random acquaintances when Griffith arrives in Europe before going on to Austria. War is in the air, but nobody knows it for certain yet. The chill I felt when reading this section was very real.

Gosh what a year it’s been. None of it has gone the way I expected.

Way back in January, my family and I got out of town for MLK weekend. While staying at a cabin on a pond, I watched fat flakes drifting through the trees and felt at peace.

That was January 19.

Many of my friends in DC, and myself included, have been viewing the start of this year with dread. We feel powerless in the face of the new administration. Eight years ago, everyone was knitting pink hats and preparing for a massive demonstration on the day before Inauguration Day. This year, we are instead booking weekend trips to get the hell out of here.