Now that our weekend plans to Amagansett are scrapped in favor of hunkering down at home in landlocked Montclair, I am about to hit the store for provisions.

WNYC has a nice concise list of supplies that I’m taking with me to Costco in about 20 minutes. But before we leave I want to share a tip that I heard from a mom who was in Baton Rouge when Katrina struck. In addition to water, batteries, three-days worth of wholesome canned food, cash, gas and pet food buy yourself a couple of packages of Jell-O pudding. It does not need to be refrigerated and when you are in your house, windows closed with no AC or fans to speak of, Jell-o Pudding tastes cold (relatively speaking here) and it becomes an unexpected treat that has the charm and feel-good surprise of a eating a Dairy Queen ice cream even if you are eating it in total darkness in your basement and for a brief while everything will feel better if not normal.

May peace and pudding be with you on Sunday.

Every year we go to Rockport, Massachusetts where David grew up for our summer vacation. Its not always easy trying to “vacation” in your home town and this trip was especially poignant because Tony is gone. It has only been two months since David’s dad died and it was naive to think we’d “get away” and all that, we stopped calling it a vacation and started calling it our “big important trip” and as big important trips go it was wonderful. Really. We got much too tan. Ate our weight in lobster and I really never need to see an ice cream cone again.

Row 1: Cottage; pirate ship ride and getting buried at Front Beach.

Row 2: Canobie Park Lake amusement park in NH, jewels at Todd Farm antique market in Rowley, Dashiell sporting his purchases

Row 3: Conrad aboard the Formidable, a pirate ghost ship

Row 4: Dashy got to use the loo at the Country Store and we got to check out their candy supply!

Row 5: Weird gold diggers on Front Beach

Row 6: Dashy on Cape Ann Whale Watch

Row 7: Rock climbing at Andrews Point

Row 8: Halibut State Park

Row 9: More rock climbing

Row 10: Even More rock climbing and a miniature Stonehenge at Halibut State Park

Row 11: Aboard Uncle Dammon and Aunt Abbe’s boat we named “Cookies and Beer”

Row 12: David looking v. salty, sunset at the Lobster Pool

Since I’ve been back working at cnp I’ve bumped into a number of old friends and the ones with kids and are extremely interested in what’s it like to live in New Jersey. “No!” “Really?” they say when I admit that traded our Brooklyn apartment for a backyard in the burbs. The Long Island raised 16-year-old in me still winces when I utter the words “New Jersey” but the 41-year old me is happy to evangelize about our town because it’s the real thing when it comes to happy grown-up compromises (decent commute, diverse population, good food). But I know Montclair is not for everyone. If you’re tired of mooching off friends with summer houses and are ready for a house all your own I have a fool-proof strategy to house hunting. Do diligence: visit the schools, brace yourself for the taxes and then check out the basements of every house you visit. Underneath all the well-appointed sun rooms and granite kitchens lies the soul of the family, even the town itself.

When David and I first started househunting we looked in a variety of New York suburbs within decent commuting distance to the city. All of the basements were a sea of Berber carpets and flat screen TVs, Stairmasters and efficiently labeled boxes of holiday decorations. They were roomy, comfortable and immaculate to the point that they looked unused. But when we started to look in Montclair we realized something was stirring beneath the surface. We’d go to check out the furnace and find a vast collection of comic books as well as a substantial and important wine collection; or complex model trains, or a photography studio; or a yoga studio; or a wood shop; or a potters wheel and kiln; or a radio and podcast station; or a huge computer server. Who were these people? And why were they moving? I found myself thinking I didn’t want to buy their house, I wanted them to stay in town so that I could hang out with them in their basements. These folks became my suburban mentors and they dispelled the myth that creativity and risk taking is the price for more closet space.

Our basement is a work in progress. It’s essentially David’s mancave where he paints, tinkers and plays Heroscape with the boys, but frankly I don’t even really know what’s going on down there, the only thing I do know is that it’s more than just laundry.

Introducing “Cat’s Galore!” Conrad’s new furniture line inspired cats and cardboard. His first creation is the “cat table”.

How did you come up with idea? “Before I made a cat just out of recylcling and then I thought how can I make this more useful and really do something with it.”

What do will you use it for? “Well you can put whatever you want on it, like I put my marbles, chess trophy, bunny that dad gave me and cool Pokemon boxes. It’s a good size.The right size for playing marbles, but too small for Pokemon games.  It’s also good because its sturdy.”

What was the toughest decision? “Deciding if it should have a cloth or not.”

Why did you choose the cloth? “Because I thought it would be more fancier, but it also means you are never getting the cloth back I’m keeping the cloth forever, its taped on.”

What are you planning on making next: “A cat fortress. It’s not for people, it’s for cats.”

You know dad is allergic to cats? “Yeah. I’m also making little cat guys. He won’t be allergic to them.”

Its muggy hot not sunny hot and this weather makes me not want to wear sunblock let alone makeup (I know no block is bad and I try to sit in the shade!). But while writing a beauty story for Self I was chatting with Emily Kate Warren, a wonderful makeup artist in NYC and we were talking about lipcolor that lasts really, after long-work days in AC and yucky humid days around town. Her suggestion: Tarte LipSurgence Lip Luster, $24. It goes on with the ease and of a pencil, has the shine of a balm and the rich pigment of a stain that really lasts. It’s a find, especially now. Plus its paraben, petrochemical and phthalets-free.

My other makeup discovery happened by chance at the Beach Club. Dashiell jumped into the three-feet and scraped his chin on the bottom of the pool. Ouch! He came out bleeding and I hustled him over the lifeguard for the first aid kit. While she fixed him up I couldn’t help but notice her insanely lustrous lashes. I was dying with curiosity and asked, “How can you keep your lashes so lush all day if you have to jump in the pool?” Apparently, lifeguards know their waterproof mascara and she told me she swears by Dior DiorShow BlackOut Waterproof Mascara, $24. And now I do too.

I was late today, about two and half hours. My sitter had to leave to go to her Dad’s 50th birthday party so Amanda, an extremely understanding friend took the boys until I finally showed up and it all worked out well enough on that end but when I came home I noticed the dogs has pooped in the sun room and the guest room, Kate forgot to put the screen over the chicken cage so one hen flew out and pooped all over the basement floor and was chirping like mad trying to find its way back to the cage and the dogs were so hungry that while we were putting the kids to bed Asta climbed up onto the kitchen table and swiped the chicken patty right out from the grilled chicken sandwiches I made for dinner and was eating them both under the orange couch.

Today is my second day at my new summer job and I really love it. But I think I may have turned off a few potential cube mates after answering a personal call. Here’s what a few new colleagues overheard, if they were even listening at 2:00 this afternoon.

“Hey, how are you?”

“Yes, five.”

“Oh no! Was it gruesome? Did the kids see it?”

“Of course I’d love to give you mine but two are roosters and we want to keep the others.”

“I know because they are freaking huge.”

“I think you do need to keep them in pairs, mine freak when they are all alone. Well Monica is leaving for Paris so she is probably ready to unload hers. We have a Bantam red and that awesome kind with the feathers on her feet, she looks like she’s wearing Alexander McQueen stilettos.”

“Ha! She is like a drag queen. Okay so now that I have you on the phone can I ask you: what about the R.A.T.S?”

“She does? Well she lives behind me maybe that’s why I had such a fucking awful problem last year!”

“I gave up on composting.”

“Okay that’s reassuring. We want to let them go free range.”

“3 dozen a week?”

“Oh really that long, I thought sooner.”

“No no I wouldn’t do that, I’m not into rushing anyone’s ovulation.”

“Okay so let me give you Monica’s phone number…”

I know chickens are being raised in Brooklyn, Queens and even on the Upper West Side, I just don’t think they have reached 4 Times Square—yet.

We have chicks. Five to be exact. It happened very quickly and blindly. Over the year Conrad’s 2nd grade class did a grain study and it culminates in hatching eggs and raising chicks the last week of school. Conrad’s class took it very seriously they were quiet for the weeks the eggs were incubating and their silence paid off. His class had 100% success–all 14 eggs produced fuzzy little chicks that needed homes.

Shortly after the blessed event, we were at a family dinner party and was talking to a friend and who asked if we were getting chicks and I nearly choked on my vodka tonic and said, “Are you crazy no way!”and Conrad turned around and said, “But I’ve been saving all my tooth fairy money for a coop!” and promptly burst into tears. Obviously, I didn’t know he felt this way and we had “the talk” its his responsibility, he’ll contribute his money to taking care of them, he has to play and feed them. Yes Yes Yes. He promised.

It’s been one week. Conrad gags when he sees the poop, so does Dashy. Conrad has a hard time picking them up. Dashy swoops in and grabs them as if he’s swiping a cookie off a hot baking sheet. David, much to everyone’s surprise has fallen in love with a rooster he named General Tso. He has built a dowel to for the birds to perch on and an elegant weighted screen to slide on top of the cage so they won’t fly out and is easy to remove. He’s also looking at plans for coops. Me and my babysitter Kate are cleaning up a lot of poop and making trips to the Montclair Pet store for makeshift supplies. We like them—a lot. And we are seriously considering keeping them except last night at our weekly family meeting we told the kids that if we kept the chickens it would mean having less of other things, like Lego sets since a chicken coop, at least the one we like and need given the number we have, is like buying two Lego Death Stars.  The kids thought about it and said they’d rather have Lego and are ready to send them back to the “farm.” The trouble is David and I are not. A kid got us into this problem, a kid is letting get off guilt free so what is keeping us from taking the easy out? There is something extremely romantic about having chickens. Aside from it being fairly surreal to watch a chicken walk around your lawn and the promise of eggs, it feels unpredictable and adventurous, like it’s my own version of suburban Outward Bound. They are always on my mind, I started at Brides yesterday for summer job and while I was at my desk I thought I heard chicks chirping, just like when you are a new mother and you hear phantom baby cries when you are in the shower. And yes, I absolutely get that if waking my neighbors up  at the crack of dawn by keeping a rooster is the most scandalous thing I can do we have hit some deep crevice in the halfway point of our lives.

But we have to decide and soon. Friday we are going to visit David’s mom in Rockport and if we are keeping them we have to bring them on a five hour car ride with both the dogs.

Sounds like this is the part when the Hazard brothers found themselves in a whole lotta trouble…

This is very exciting! Gilt Group is having a DVF swimwear sale today and yes the very suit I posted in on sale. That means you Molly and Jen and Erin and Tara…go. shop.now.

Molly you said you would only buy it if it was a tankini. Well walla, sexy is served! Gilt, $155

Notice how the model’s boobs are not flat triangles? How could you not, right? This sweetheart underwire lifts and separates in way that no soft cup bra from Land’s End ever will. Gilt, Top $69, Bottom $65.

This one is just hot. If I were writing fashion copy, we’d probably run something like its the “Little Black Dress of bathing suits,” but no black dress has ever been this sexy–I mean there are sheer inserts but then lots of demure coverage. Wow. Gilt, $99

And I know you may not get to the sale in time. Its the last day of school and we are all running around buying last minute Dunkin’ Donuts gift cards for the bus drivers and crossing guards. So if you miss the sale, I’m sorry. All I can think of is that scene in Say Anything, when Jim Court is incarated and Lloyd gives him the letter from Diane and it turns out it’s not the letter that says how much she loves still him and Lloyd says, “Just knowing that a version like that exists, knowing that just for a minute she felt that and wrote ‘I can’t help loving you’. That has be a good thing.” Well ladies for all of you who took me aside and said, ‘I liked you blog post, but those suits never go on sale and they are so expensive I won’t ever be able to get one,’ this sale is your version of Jim’s “I can’t help loving you.” letter. It’s proof that an amazing suit will go on sale and you’ll be able to rock it as soon as it stops raining.

I forgot to give Dashy his lunch today and boy I am glad because while I was hightailing it down North Fullerton and passing an antique shop that is a little scary but a little more fabulous than really scary, I spied these:

I was on the phone. The dogs were in the car. I had about 9 minutes to get him his lunch. I made a pact with myself that I wouldn’t spend more than $75. Heck I was flush with all the cash I’m collecting for the end of the year teacher gift (KIDDING!). I pulled over and tried to act like cool. “How much for the koooky elephants?” I asked. Jamal, a lovely cute guy with dreadlocks had to check. Unfortunately Jamal’s manager was not picking up his cell. We waited, feeling silly staring at the elephants and waiting for his manager to call back. I thought, if it’s outrageous maybe I can get my friend Erin to go in with me, she is equally obsessed with elephants.  Jamal finally said,  The best he could do was $60.***SOLD!

We lifted them into my car. They are heavy as hell but they are elephants. I have no bed bug fear because they are ceramic. I called Erin, told her she is going to be jealous but in happy way and that I wanted to give her one but they really work better as a pair. She understood.

Now my elephant moment is over. I can’t do any more otherwise I’ll be that crazy parrot lady, only with elephants. The buzz from this find is going to last a while.

***David I promise with all my heart that $60 is the real price. †

† Price mentioned above plus an hour worth of babysitting.