Taking A Page From The Dilettantes

You may recall I was founder and member of The Dilettante Club back in the mid 2010s. During the time that club was active, I and the other three members managed to try almost EIGHTY unique activities. Doing some quick back-of-the-napkin math, it would appear we did every available activity in the DMV area and there is nothing left to do, amen.

Do you really think I'd give up that easily? 

After failed attempts to get involved in activities in preparation for my daughter going to college, I decided to revive the Dilettante Club. This time, inviting one friend to accompany me to each activity. (So "club" is not really an apt descriptor, but being able to coordinate with even one person's schedule feels like quite the achievement. Leave me alone.)

And so far this year, I've managed to try something new every month. I'll keep track of the activities here by updating this post each month and am cautiously optimistic I'll end 2025 with 12 new activities under my belt. I'm just hopeful one of them is not "Don red robe and rename myself Oftim." 

The activities?

JANUARY - Paper quilling

FEBRUARY - Blacksmithing

 

  

MARCH - Making hammered brass earrings

APRIL - Real Roots Meetup in DC 

This is a meet-up for women to get matched with a group of like-minded women in their city (in my case, in DC, as there were none of these scheduled for Northern Virginia). A facilitator guides conversations designed to build lasting friendships. If you love your group, you can continue with a 6-week series together. Even though this was way out of my comfort zone, I went and am glad I did. The women were accomplished and very interesting, and the facilitator did a great job of getting our group to know each other in about 2.5 hours. Will I continue with the group for the next six weeks? TBD, but doubtful. Did I swap info with several of the women with the intent to meet up at some point in the future? Yes. I liked it and would definitely commit if it was more geographically desirable. 

MAY - 2025 NY Cat Film Festival 

Will the other attendees be cinephiles? Crazy cat ladies? That's all part of the adventure. 

Identity Crisis

Last weekend, our college kid attended a fraternity formal with her boyfriend. They enjoyed a nice dinner and dancing at a winery about half an hour from the university. 

At one point during the night, she bellied up to the bar to order a beverage. A quick scan of the drink list drew her eye to peach sangria, which was listed along with the prices for a glass and a pitcher, thusly:

                            Peach sangria  10/26 

With the unbridled confidence of an underage, hopeful drinker, she asked the bartender for a (and I quote), "Peach sangria ten twenty-six." 

Having obviously worked college functions before, the bartender promptly retorted, "ID, please."

Gentle reader, it was a peach sangria-less night. Alas.

Pancakes...all exciting at first...

Over the weekend, a friend reminded me of a story I shared with her from when my daughter was young:

I've always been a little overprotective, which has manifested in an assortment of ways throughout my daughter's childhood that she can unpack through intensive therapy. It didn't help my neuroses when a friend shared a story about a friend of his - an adult woman who choked to death on cottage cheese when she was home alone several years ago. This horrific story lodged itself in my brain and has haunted me ever since. (Aside: the guy who shared this makes a living as a comedy writer, completely disproving the old adage that tragedy + time = comedy.) 

Hearing that one story made me realize that even though we fully trusted our daughter to be at home by herself from the time she was about 8 years old, I did not trust her to eat when she was there because God Forbid she would choke on something. Thus was the impetus of the "no eating when home alone" rule.

I mean, she was allowed water and clear broth...I'm not a monster. Just nothing that required chewing.

Having become familiar with my nonsense, she rolled her 8-year-old eyes but obliged without too much resistance.  

Until one day when I was at my office and she had just returned home from school and texted me to let me know she was home safely, but was very hungry. I was not focused as I was finishing up a work call and also realized I was about ten minutes late to a meeting with a financial planner my husband had scheduled. So....when my daughter casually asked if she could make pancakes, I distractedly replied, "Sure. Just text me when you're done."

I then finished my work call, hopped on to the financial planner call, and when that was over it occurred to me that about an hour and a half had elapsed since my daughter asked about pancakes and I had not received the promised text from her. 

Slightly concerned, I texted her. She did not reply. I then called her. Also, no reply. I panicked. And continued to try and call her. Nothing. 

This is when the terror set in. I was already processing how the one time I was distracted and let her eat when she was home alone, she had choked on pancakes and was wondering how I'd ever live with myself. This was happening while I was hurriedly shoving my laptop into my backpack and heading to the elevator in my office building while continuing to ring her phone. I raced the four miles home WAY over the speed limit, continuing to call her phone and continuing to receive no response. 

When I finally reached the house, I pulled into the driveway and flew into the house screaming her name at the top of my lungs. I apparently sounded so panicked and looked like such a depraved lunatic that when she finally emerged from the guest room downstairs, wiping sleep from her eyes while trying to figure out what was going on, she burst into tears. 

To be fair:

1) the kid had never taken an afternoon nap before

2) she had also never not replied to a text and ESPECIALLY a phone call

3) I'm a lunatic

Brutalism

P.S. The post title is stolen from comic genius Mitch Hedberg. RIP.