Mr. Earl Barnes of Savannah, Georgia

Last week, I had the opportunity to spend five days in Savannah.  Mr. L was in a conference, so I spent the better part of every day just roaming, reading historical markers, and taking pictures.

Snapping pictures of the iconic fountain in Forsythe Park, a gentleman shouted to me asking if I wanted him to take a picture of me in front of the fountain.  I am not proud that my first thought was that I did not because I wasn't sure that I wanted to hand my camera over to him.  I hate that I allow the darkness of this world make me suspicious of people I don't know.  I also don't much like having my picture made, so there was that.

I did walk over to him, however, to thank him for the offer.  He asked if I wanted a poem he wrote.  I said I would love one, but I didn't have any money on me to pay for it.  He said that was okay, he was happy to share the poem.  He asked why everyone thinks everything is about money.  I replied that I figured he needed to eat and that cost money.  He said that was true, but he had had a cup of coffee that morning and he would get a check for $900 from his social security next week, so he was doing just fine.

He said he was a homeless veteran.  I shook his hand and thanked him for his service.  He then began to share his beautiful thoughts about how we are all family.  He said we all belong to the family of God and we just need to look after each other.  I told him I agreed with him, kicking myself for not having cash on me to share with him, but I was not going to insult him again by mentioning money.  I told him a favorite quote of mine, "only look in your neighbor's yard to be sure he has enough."  He really liked that and said he would remember it.

He handed me the copy of his poem, written on tattered paper, in a mainly illegible hand.  He had drawn hearts, emphasized by a yellow highlighter.  Toward the bottom is a cross with a sun, I think.  I asked him his name.  He said he was Earl Barnes.  I shook his hand again and told him how nice it was to meet him.

I walked away, reading his poem.  There were only parts of it that I could decipher..."Aunt Mary's Table of love," "children return from school," "Joining God's Family, we serve all." As I walked away, it dawned on me that I had actually stuck some money in my phone case.  I hurried back, finding Earl's coat had been left on a bench and he and a friend walking away.  I shouted to him, asking if that was his coat.  He said, "Lawd, that's the third time this week I've left my coat behind; I've got so much in my hands."  I handed him a little money, told him to buy himself some lunch if he wanted to use it for that.  He danced a little jig and asked, "can I hug you," to which I replied, "I'd be honored to get a hug from you, Earl."

In our conversation, I learned that Earl and I are the same age.  I pondered how much easier my life has been than his, but how much more appreciative Earl is for the blessings God has rained on him.  There are so many people in so many places from whom I need to learn.

"Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it." Hebrews 13:2

Certainly, Earl was not entertaining an angel, but I must wonder, was I?

Week 4

Day 1

As always, I explain these camp blogs are written so the boys and I can remember.  I know they are tedious.

How has this summer gone by so quickly?  It's Thursday afternoon as I write this and the boys left about an hour early today.  I needed the time, but I feel a little sick inside that our second year of Mellie's Summer Camp of Excellence is over.  Time...hard to comprehend.

Tuesday was a busy, busy day.  It was our second annual cook-for-the-parents night.  The first thing we did was make our crème brulee so that it would have time to cook and cool. While it was cooking, they made chocolate bowls.  I bought all the right supplies for that including silicone cups.  They were supposed to make popping the chocolate cups out so very simple.  Turns out, not so much. Several of our cups collapsed, so while they watched a movie, I made them again in paper cups and they worked much, much better.  Afterward, we went to the grocery and bought flowers and a few other items we needed.  I wised up this year (live and learn) and bought most of the groceries the day before. We did go to the Amish market so they could pick out tomatoes.  They did a stellar job; the tomatoes were delicious.

When we got home, we had lunch and then they arranged the flowers, set the table, chopped tomatoes, helped cook the meat and helped make baked meringues.  By this time, I was so exhausted with their help that I turned a movie on for them and finished up the other details of dinner.

At each place was a laminated (how did I live happily before now without a laminator?)menu card/world's largest bookmark, a small pencil and a sheet to mark what each person wanted on their taco.  We had beef, chicken, tomatoes, lettuce, sweet peppers, jalapeno peppers, cheese, sour cream,  ranch dressing and black beans.  For appetizers, we had guacamole, salsa, chips and virgin margaritas.  I still can't believe I failed to get a picture of one of the margaritas.  First of all, they were delicious and they were quite festive with a fancy straw, umbrella, lime slice, and the cup rimmed with turbinado sugar.  Yummy! Everybody seemed to enjoy them.

Finally, the boys called everyone to the table.  Chaos ensued as they took the order sheets and I tried to fix the tacos, but finally everyone was served and the boys led this blessing:  "Full of joy and thankfulness, we say 'Thank you, Lord' from the bottom of our hearts.  We look at the food prepared by loving hands, we look into the faces of those that love us and those who we love in return and we look to You, our Lord and Savior. All good gifts around us are sent from heaven above, and we will never forget who is our true provider.  We thank you as you bless this food and bless this time together.  Amen"  Having a prayer written out for them helped them feel more confident in leading it.  I think Fizzy might have shed a tear or two.

After dinner, the boys cleared the table and dessert was served.  There were options....crème brulee, chocolate cups with caramel cookie crunch gelato, and baked meringues.  They most loved serving the crème brulee because they got to torch the top.  I loved that Marshall told Max he wanted "extra crunch" on his, knowing the more Max could torch the better.  I was really impressed with the expertise they showed in torching, and they only needed a little help blowing out flaming sugar.  Dinner was declared a success.  Mellie collapsed...like, almost literally.

Day 2

Oh, glorious day.  My nephew, Cole is house/dog sitting where there is a pool.  I invited us to come spend the day.  Cole is very gracious, so he would say I didn't exactly invite us, but I sort of did.  We arrived at the pool around 10:15.  I jokingly told Fizzy when he called to be sure I had put sunscreen on the boys (whatever) that Cole didn't know it, but I was planning on staying until 3:00.  Cole laughed, assured me he was just hanging at the pool all day and I could stay as long as I wanted.  I think we left around 4:15.  It was a great day!!

Nunny came and hung out.  Do'Do' came and helped Max practice diving off the board.  He did not perfect it, but he got better and better with each try, but the main thing was, he never gave up.  Simeon loved going off the board, although diving was not on his agenda.  So, day 2 was peaceful, with a few little bumps in the road, but all-in-all it was a most relaxing and pleasant day.  We came home, boys showered,  I scrambled eggs, fried sausage and made toast. Simmy stayed to eat and Violet joined us too. I could enjoy another day just like that one.

Day 3

I think we all sort of started this day with a bit of dread.  I know for sure that Max and I did. Simmy sort of takes life in stride, but Max marks moments, and he has all the feels about them.  It was the last day of camp.  Have I mentioned that I'm sad about that? Now, all my grandparent friends whose grandchildren live out of town, you can smack me when you see me for being such a big baby.  I can only imagine how hard it is for y'all when you leave their homes or they yours after a visit.  God bless you all.

We got off to a late start this morning because Mellie had a visitation to attend.  As soon as Max arrived, we went to get Sim.  Our first stop was the state museum.  It is amazing.  We only saw part of it, and I'm learning that Max is not as big a fan of formal museums as Simmy.  While we were there watching a movie on Tennessee in the Civil War, a group of mentally challenged adults came and sat with us.  I don't know where those who "supervise" were, but one of them, a rather large man, standing and rocking back and forth was inappropriately touching himself and then revealing his bare belly.  It was very disconcerting.  Simmy was engrossed in the movie and Max was looking at a display right by where we were sitting, so I don't think either of them noticed, but I was a bit dismayed by the whole thing.  When the movie ended, we hastily left that area and perused a bit more of the museum then, of course, headed to the gift shop.  I had already told them that, because it was our last day of this summer, I would buy them each a $10 or less souvenir at the museum.  After much hemming and hawing, they ended up with a game of marbles, a game of tiddly winks, and a stuffed fox for Violet.  Both seemed very happy with their purchases.

The museum was followed by our second annual lunch at the Hermitage Hotel.  Service was much faster today than last year.  Other than a napkin picked up off the floor a gazillion times, and one chin removed from a plate more times than that, they did very well.  We had quite the lovely lunch together.  It had been requested earlier that we get dessert at Cheesecake Factory following lunch because The Hermitage Hotel's desserts are not  to our liking.  So, we drove to Cheesecake Factory where the wait time was quite long, so we ordered one piece of cheesecake for Simmy to go with the promise of Mango Sorbet for Max when we got home.  We had a near disaster when Mellie came to an abrupt halt in the driveway and the cheesecake went flying.  Fortunately, only the whipped cream was damaged, well, and since we were in Fizzy's car, his umbrella has quite a bit of whipped cream on it, but it'll wash off next time he uses it.

A rousing game of Tiddly Winks and Max's dad picked him up early.  Max never wants to go, but I teasingly told him it was all his fault because he's so fun to be with and his dad really wanted to spend time with him.  That is exactly why Marshall picked him up.  Sim and I played a few games of marbles before his dad collected him.

I failed in the picture-taking this week.  We didn't write in journals.  We didn't do our exploding artwork.  But, Lord willing, we will have other days for other activities.  While I learned as a mom that having children is like having your heart walking around outside your body, until I experienced it, I never quite understood what grandchildren can do to you.  I know life will get in a routine when school starts.  Right now, however, I'll just dwell in this bittersweet moment.

Week 3 ~ Service Week

It occurred to me that, perhaps, we all needed to do a little something for someone else, thus Service Week was born.  It proved to be a good week at Mellie Camp.  Again, I write these blogs to document camp for the boys, of course, my sharing it on FB belies my protests of understanding if you don't read it.  Such a conundrum, or is it hypocrisy?

Day 1

Today, we decided to make lunches for those who are experiencing homelessness, but our first service project was to make the bed, then write cards for Fizzy.  Fizzy is definitely a wonderful model of servant leadership in this family and deserves to be honored.  One note said, "Fizzy I love you," and the other said, "we made your beb.  I love you."  Is there anything more precious than handwritten messages from one's grandchildren?  Our next act of service was to replace the flapper in Fizzy's toilet.  I explained about turning the water off at the wall, what a flapper does, how the chain needs to be the right length and presto, no more running toilet.  Later in the day, when one sweet little granddaughter felt the need to use most of a roll of toilet paper to take care of her needs, it was Mellie to the rescue again with my handy plunger.

Then, we went to the store to buy supplies for our lunches.  It was decided that we would make 6 and each boy could deliver 3.  I was very concerned about fixing sandwiches made with meat and cheese and mayonnaise, so we did what I don't really like to do when I am fixing meals for those in need, and that is make peanut butter sandwiches. I figured the humbleness of PB&J would be better received than a sandwich which provided ptomaine poisoning.  Nobody wants that.

Each boy got to pick the kind of chips, dessert, and drink that would go in the lunch and we also got fresh cherries and grapes.  One of my sweet boys has great difficulty in making decisions and so we stood in the refrigerated section of the store for as long as I could stand as he pondered which kind of lemonade he wanted...for himself.  Finally, I told him I was counting to 30 (I know, right?  Why not 5?) and if he had not made a decision, I would make it for him.  At 29 he decided, I returned the one not chosen to the refrigerator and he immediately began to moan that he had made the wrong choice.  "Tough luck" was the most loving response I could come up with at that moment.

Finally, back home  to put the lunches together.  One little guy was struggling a bit pulling himself back together, but he did and enthusiastically packed his 3 lunches.  I had each boy write a note to put in each lunch.  I don't know what they ended up writing, but one boy on the first one wrote, "bless you, Bob," and I made him redo it.  He was incensed that I was not planning on driving around until we found a man named Bob who needed a lunch.

Finding the first few folks was not terribly difficult, even in the heart of Green Hills.  We delivered 5 of the meals, were growing weary of being in the car and so came home where one boy and I split the lunch we did not deliver.  It was a pretty good PB&J with orange marmalade on it.  I hope those who received a lunch thought so too.

We came home, ate lunch, did some art projects, one of which did not go well with one boy climbing under the table declaring himself a failure at art.  I assured him it was a process, but he's more the type that wants to be at step 15 without working through steps 1-14.  I understand that.  30 minutes of quiet time, where I may or may not have set the timer for 40 minutes instead.  I didn't realize that 7 year olds had such a refined sense of timing and I did get a bit tickled when Simmy was convinced that something was wrong with the timer.  I, perhaps, was not as forthcoming as I should have been about my duplicity, but I was reading a good book and I was tired!

Both boys and Violet ended up staying for supper, which, let me just say, was so awful that Fizzy suggested that I not even make an effort for Wednesday night.  I eagerly took him up on that offer.  I can do nothing for dinner quite easily.  By the time everyone left, I was ready to hit the sofa with my good book.  It was a good day.

Day 2

For the second year in a row, we restocked the pews at church.  We talked a lot about how sometimes children don't realize how they can contribute to their church family, but that, in fact, they have much to offer. We stocked pews last year, and this year went a bit more smoothly.  We stopped at Fresh Market to get snacks to fortify us after stocking the balcony.  Once again, we went through which drink to buy.  I am happy to report that a decision was made in a timely fashion with no buyer's remorse following.  The snack was a bit trickier, so I gave him 2 options, he chose one and seemed quite happy with the decision.  Progress!!

We arrived at church and visited a moment with "Miss" Nancy then hustled to the sanctuary to put out pens, cards, and to clean out the book racks.  Let me just say, that balcony-sitters, are a good deal messier than those who sit downstairs.  Balcony finished, or so I thought, and downstairs to have the snacks and hit the sanctuary.  Max got himself a system which worked quite nicely.  Simeon was putting the cards in the card racks and decided that he would shout each time he saw where a pen was needed.  Nevermind that Max was on the other side of the room placing pens and would eventually get to it.  If Simmy yelled "here!" once he yelled it 500 times.  As we were finishing up, Max looked upstairs and said, "Melly, we only did one of the decks upstairs."  What foolishness was this?  Oh, shoot, he was right.  So, back upstairs we went.  The entire time boys wanted to know if they could drop pens off the balcony downstairs.  I capitulated, because I, myself, wondered how far they could throw pens.  I let them each throw one pen off the balcony as far as they could.  Both boys were convinced that theirs made it to the stage.  I have my doubts, but I was getting weary.  Do you see a theme here.  They asked if they could play tag in the sanctuary, I said, "yes, if you stay off the stage."  About 5 minutes into the game, one ran up on the stage and did not come down immediately, so I declared it time to leave.

We went home to have lunch where our conversation took some turns.  First of all, Max wanted to know how church family has ever helped him.  I said that his church family prayed for him when he had his eye surgery and he was prayed for constantly when he was born.  We talked about how he had to stay in the hospital because of complications.  He wanted to know if Simmy had taken so long to be born and I said, '"no, Simmy came in a big hurry."  Max expressed how Simmy burst how of his mama's belly and I just smiled.  Let him think what he will, but Simeon asked THE question..."how do babies get out?"  I'm not sure I've ever been so eager to play the grandmother card and replied, "that's something it's best for your parents to share with you."  Yes, score one for grandparent deflection.  Then, Max wanted to know what I think happens when someone dies.  I told him that I was not sure exactly, but that I do believe we go into the presence of God, while I might not know exactly what that would be like.  Simmy then relayed a story that Fizzy had told about someone who recently spoke at a conference about his near-death experience.  It was a beautiful depiction of the peace I anticipate when the time comes for my departure.  So, all in all, it was quite the deep lunch conversation.

Afterwards, we had a true 30 minute quiet/reading time, followed by making yarn dolls and charm necklaces.

Day 3

Today was flower-delivery day.  We did this last year.  It is more an act of kindness service to celebrate the boys turning 7.  I try to do this each year, though I have fallen short a couple years.  We had already bought vases at $Tree, so we were off to Trader Joe's to buy flowers.  I gave them the limit of what they could spend and both boys picked out lovely bouquets.  Because my house was being cleaned, I did not want to go home to fix the vases, so we arranged the flowers in the back of the car.  Each vase had a note tied on it that said, "My name is (Simeon, Max).  I turned 7 in the spring.  I am doing acts of kindness to celebrate that birthday.  I hope these flowers bless your day."  Our first stop was the Daily's in Green Hills.  One of the ladies we gave flowers to had received flowers from Max last year.  She was so moved and told him that she had saved one of the roses.  Isn't that so sweet?  She had pressed and saved the rose.  I explained to the boys that not everyone has a husband or child or grandchild to bring them flowers, and they may not have the extra money to go buy them for themselves.  Most people like flowers.

Next we went to  the Purple Cow.  The cashier there was just basically overwhelmed and offered two or three times to pay Simeon for the flowers.  Each time, he told her that he did not want money, he just wanted her to enjoy the flowers.  Next we went to the Brentwood CVS because soon this will be the home clinic for Simmy's mom as a nurse practitioner.  We decided that we would give flowers to the NP working today.  Max, first of all gave flowers to the cashier in the front.  She was stunned.  He's a little shyer and I had to explain what was going on.  She just had a big smile on her face.  Then we went back to the Minute Clinic to see if the nurse on duty had a patient where we found a waiting patient vomiting in the trashcan outside the examining room.  I immediately hustled the boys away from there.  We found another cashier and gave her flowers as well.  Flowers to someone taking orders at Chick-fil-a where we might have revived ourselves with frosted lemonades and then to the Urgent Care clinic where we gave out last two arrangements away.

We came home, filled water balloons...lots of water balloons and the boys proceeded to throw many of them up on the roof.  Why?  I don't know.  But they had fun, got soaking wet, came in, put on pajamas, made things with melty beads.  We ordered pizza, had lunch, made more melty bead things and started watching a movie.  Parents came early to get them and now Fizzy and Mellie are going out to dinner...because, you know, Tuesday night's dinner.

It was a good week.  I hope they learned a little of the importance of serving others and gained some pleasure in seeing the joy in people's faces as they surprised them with an unexpected kindness.

We Prayed...Every Day we Prayed

We prayed for a different diagnosis.  We prayed for successful treatment.  We prayed for relief from pain and side effects of  treatments.  We prayed prayers of praise when treatments seem to be working.  We prayed laments when good results did not last.  We prayed for admittance to clinical trials.  We prayed...every day we prayed, sometimes multiple times a day.  We prayed for a miracle.  When it seemed obvious that healing, at least in this realm, was not to be, we prayed for a peaceful passing not marred by fear of any kind.  Perhaps, death is the miracle for those who have suffered so valiantly. Perhaps, it is the miracle for us all.  The last grand adventure. We don't know. We just know we prayed.

She fought with grace and determination, exuding joy beyond the comprehension of most of us.  She fought for her family for her friends for herself.  She fought hard.  She loved life.  She was a bright light, and we are better for having walked in that light. Even as her body deteriorated, her spirit glowed.  The world is better for her having lived in it.  What more can we ask?

Now we pray...every day we pray for her husband, her children, her grandchildren and others who walked closely by her through her life's journey. They are grieving.  They are in pain.  Her grandchildren are young.  They may not remember her, but we are confident that they will know and love her from the pictures and stories they will be told throughout their lives.

There are those who would say our prayers are foolish, but she would not have.  She solicited our prayers on her behalf, and we honor her by praying for those she loved.

So, we pray. We do not pray in the past tense. Still we pray, regardless of our disappointment in the answers.  Every day we pray.  We pray in joy and in pain, in plenty and in want.  We beg and plead, we cry out in praise that cannot be contained. We pray...and we weep...and we remember.

Mellie Camp Week 2

Let me preface this post with an apology to anyone who happens upon it.  There's a lot of pretty boring detail here, but I write these mainly for the boys.

Well, day one dawned with one little buddy having a very rough morning at home.  Funny, how that can set the tone for a day.  When he joined us, his eyes were red and I could tell that tears had been shed.  I'll give him this, he rallied pretty well, but off and on, it did affect his morning.  My other sweet empath found his feelings being somewhat tender, and so, pretty much for the first two hours, one or the other was either crying or angry.  It was great.

After a stop at Krispy Kreme for a hot glazed donut we headed to town. We started our day in the Civil Rights Room of the main library.  They sat at the lunch counter they have there to represent the lunch counter sit-ins.  I think, possibly, the main thing they were impressed with was that I actually was alive when the civil rights movement was at its peak.  It seems like eons ago to them, but I tried to stress that, indeed, it was not.  We watched part of a movie concerning the end of segregation in the schools here in Nashville.  As one boy became restless, it was the perfect opportunity to remind him that his best friend in first grade would not have been allowed in his school when I was his age.  That hit home a little.

We walked up to the Viet Nam Memorial Park and they ran out some energy, I thought, before we went in the military branch of the state museum.  Max wanted to know where the rest of the tree was, and, yes, he was intentionally being funny.  It sort of cracked me up. As we walked in, the person at the desk in an authoritative voice said, "do NOT let them touch the artifacts!"  I assured her that they knew how to behave.  I did not point out to her that the only artifacts that could even remotely be touched were bombs and a bell.  I hardly think two seven-year-old boys could have harmed them, but then I did think of my dad always saying that my brother, Mike, "could tear up an anvil."  So, perhaps...

An hour ride on the hop-on-hop-off trolley (no way I was letting them off) was filled with "I'm bored I'm cold, how much longer and various other complaints.  I pretty much ignored it, except for the occasions when I assured one or the other that I did not care if he was bored for that was a choice he was making.  Finally, they perked up when they heard that candy would be handed out at the end of the tour and extra pieces if trivia questions could be answered.  We answered one, for I felt it unfair to answer the questions on a trolley full of tourists with my having done some sort of tour of Nashville now for about 38 years.  Not to mention, that I certainly did not have all the answers any way.

Lunch was at Subway at one boy's request and to the other one's dismay.  When all arguments failed, he wailed, "my parents would not want me to eat at Subway," to which I replied, "how do you think they would feel about Krispy Kreme?"  All complaints stopped, but, truthfully, I was the only one who actually ate my lunch.

Nunny's book signing was our next stop at the Hermitage Hotel where two boys acted a bit like maniacs.  By that point, it was all a little much for them.  After greeting several of the people there in the midst of trying to keep the boys in line, we left.  As we walked, supposedly to the car to come home, one boy said, "we didn't earn our treat at The Arcade did we."  I asked what behavior he thought might make that a fact.  I will give it to him, he named several things that indicated that he had not conducted himself as his best self.  I asked my other sweet boy, and he seemed a bit puzzled by what the problem was, but after some prompting, he was able to articulate where the breakdown may have been.  I told them they get one grace day each year at camp and this was the day.  It was really amazing.  The switch came.  Behavior improved immensely.  Thank yous all around for the treats from The Peanut Shop. It made me think how much better we would all act if we truly appreciated the grace shown us. So, we went back to the Hermitage Hotel where they were perfect gentlemen and earned time on the playground in the library.  I was very impressed.  I was also extremely exhausted.

Day Two was to be an easy-going day.  We went to a movie.  The dollar movie.  It was PACKED!! The movie was a dollar, but the special treat they provide was quite a bit more.  This after I let both my buddies know that we were not ordering "off the menu."  It was either the kid pack or nothing.  Of course they decided on the kid pack.  We found seats way in the back where I sat next to a charming young boy who pretty much had his feet all over me during the entire movie.  Well, not the entire movie because about an hour into it, he wailed to his nanny that he was incapable of sitting through a "movie this long."  His two-year old sister was screaming for her mom, so the nanny very quietly and kindly left with them.

I still find it hard that I went to a movie that starred a snail who won the Indy 500.  Seriously, that is about as ludicrous a plot as I can imagine, and yet, I still found myself pulling for Turbo and applauding when he beat Guy Gangen (sp?) right at the finish line.  Both boys enjoyed the movie a lot, but Max did declare it "ridiculous."  Simmy enjoys movies thoroughly and laughs out loud at the funny parts, which are usually a little bit "off color,"like some snail with a speech impediment saying "Holy cwap."  Why is that funny to little kids?  The whole place laughed.  I don't know.

The rest of the day consisted of lunch and making crème brulee (YUMMY!) and baked meringues, playing outside, having a fight followed by a Native American Peace Council where Mellie tried out some of her mediation skills.  It was moderately successful and they played very well together for quite a few minutes after that.  Pop-up cards made for their dads for Father's Day and the day pretty much ended.  There was a Hallmark movie with my name on it for the evening.  Fizzy was at a gala (spouses did not have to go ~ hallelujah), and so Mellie is resting up for day 3.  What adventures await.


Day Three was probably the most beautiful weather day that we will have all summer~mid 70s, breezy, just what I will request for my weather in heaven, if requests are taken.  We had been looking forward to going to Cheekwood to see the new Storybook house exhibit.  I really wondered if it might be too juvenile for the boys, but, actually, they are the perfect age for it.  It was so much fun.  The Dr. Seuss house was the first one we visited and they could walk on the roof, go up a climbing wall or a rope ladder, come down a slide, ring bells etc.  Of course, it was time for snacks, so we ate fresh cherries and had a cherry-pit spitting contest.  I know, classy.

Secondly we went to the Charlotte's Web barn, and for some reason this was their least favorite by far.  We did not stay there long.  Too bad, because it actually had a bench for the old grandparents to sit on, at least that's what the granddad who was sitting there said to me, so I took advantage of it for  all of  the 3 minutes we stayed there.  Then off to the Peter Rabbit house, which I thought would be their least favorite and turned out to be the favorite.  They hauled stuff from here to there, climbed in and out and around hollowed tree stumps, see-sawed on a log see-saw, ran and romped and had a grand old time.  We ate lunch there under the trees at a long log table with tree stump seats.  We ate organic Cheetos (seriously), watermelon and Lunchables.  It was truly one of the most pleasant meals I have had in quite some time.

After lunch, we found the Where the Wild Things Are house  It was amazing.  Totally amazing...and SCARY!!  But, the boys loved it, and we stayed there for a long time. In our effort to find the fifth house, we wandered around and ended up at the creek where the boys removed their shoes and socks and waded until Max stubbed one toe and cut the top of the other.  After some medical attention (soaking it in the cold creek) we headed off to find the last house.  Yay, for smart phones because I Googled it and learned that it was by the trains.

The day began to break down here and the boys got into a argument that was working its way into a fist fight so we had a little peace council, which did not go as well as I had hoped because my Living Water bracelet, which was the stand-in for our peace stick, got broken.  Bummer.  We did not come to a satisfactory conclusion to the upset, really, so we headed home. But, we had been there for 4 1/2 hours, and that seemed sufficient.

At home, peace mainly reigned while they made cards for Fizzy for Father's Day, we learned Violet has strep, and watched one show after eating a bit of crème brulee and baked meringues.  It was time for me to drive Max home.  Simmy rode and all in all it was a most pleasant day with just a few bumps along the way.

I cannot believer it, but Mellie's Summer Camp of Excellence of 2019 is halfway over.  I am having to adjust plans because some of what they have always loved doing, like decorating t-shirts, they find not fun.  Other plans I will probably change because I am not sure that 2 seven-year-old boys can be trusted to do what I ask in potentially dangerous situations, like touring Cumberland Caverns.  I'm still having an internal debate, but I shall not be asking for input from my campers.  In that circumstance, this is a dictatorship.  So, another week that kept me on my toes, challenged by negotiating skills and patience, and found me getting bunches of hugs.  What more could a girl ask?

Mellie's Summer Camp of Excellence ~ Year 2

Last year, I posted after each day.  Why did I do that?  I'm not sure. I guess to remember what we did and how our days went.  This year, I am planning on just posting each week.

Year 2, Week 1, Day 1 got off to a rough start.  One of my little buddies had a hard morning, and try as he might, he just had a hard time rallying.  Add that to Mellie having a sore knee that is swollen to about twice its size and you have the recipe for a hard day.

This week is Aviation Week.  We read a book on Orville and Wilbur Wright, went to the airport viewing pad and watched planes land and take off.  Another family came up and they were VERY friendly.  So friendly, in fact, I am fairly certain they even overwhelmed the only extrovert in our group.  We snacked on blueberries, raspberries, strawberries, and blackberries, fighting over who ate the last what.  We came home, made construction paper helicopters which were amazing, really, especially when dropping them while standing on the top rung of the ladder.  The craft project we did was a huge success, even better than I'd hoped.  Mostly, the boys just played in a blanket (sheet) fort in the den.  Even with the heat and a couple of us out of sorts, it was declared a good day.

Year 2, Week 1, Day 2  Today, we got off to a better start.  Yay!!  Violet and her mom were here for a while this morning and the boys and Violet got into a water-gun fight.  I think the little girl was being somewhat bullied by the older boys because she really had the best water blaster.  When she left, I took the boys to $Tree, gave them 2 dollars each, so they too could own powerful water blasters.  We left there with one boy with a wood and peg basketball game and a cash register drawer of "funny money," and the other one with a spinner toy and a pop gun that the foam ball is attached to and won't shoot anywhere.  I don't know.

We came home and made a flying machine out of paper straws and strips of cardstock that were amazing.  Simmy's flew up on the roof.  We also made planes with a plastic straw, cardboard wings, and a plug of play dough.  They flew successfully....once.  Then we made rockets with film canisters, water, and Alka-Seltzer.  Oh.my.word.  Pure awesomeness.  Possibly, safety goggles would have been a good idea, but fortunately, no one was injured.

A brief show, lunch, and then off we went to the doctor for Mellie to get an injection in her knee.  Rather than threaten, I promised a trip to Bobby's Dairy-Dip if they behaved well, plus they each took a book to read.  Simmy faced the wall, while Max thought he might look on.  I think the doctor was blocking his view.  I'm pretty sure the doctor thought both boys a bit backward as I'm fairly certain neither of them actually looked up and spoke to him.  We shall try to do better next time, for there will be a next time as I have to get shots 5 weeks in a row.  They had a bit of problem deciding what to order.  Sim had me read him the flavors of milkshakes.  Apparently, I spoke a little too rapidly and so he ordered a heath m&m chai chocolate shake.  What?!?  We corrected it to a straight Heath shake.  Max had a raspberry one.  I had a dipped cone in honor of Dr. Johnson, who highly recommended it.  Yep, that's me not eating sugar.  Good grief.

Home for a hot, rousing game of kickball in the driveway.  Lots of yelling and rule changes and I'm-sick-of-you-changing-the-rules, but whatever.  Shirts off.  You'd think that was the most risqué thing of all time.  That coupled with my solar system rug that Sim said I needed to get rid of because it has the worst potty word ever...Uranus.  Boys.  They are a breed unto themselves.  I figure a 7 year old boy named that heavenly body, formerly known as a planet.

Year 2, Week 1, Day 3

Today was a big day.  Several weeks ago, I asked a friend who is a pilot, if he had a flight simulator by any chance.  I explained my plans for Aviation Week at camp and he took the ball and ran with it.  So, Mr. Jim and his friend, Mr. John, who flew his plane to Nashville for the express purpose of showing his plane to the boys, met us at the John C. Tune airport.  I had heard of it, but had never been there.  We arrived and, of course, Wrong-Way Mellie was parked in the Sysco parking lot instead of at the airport.  That is when the boys got a little bit rowdy.  One of them informed me that he did not even want to be there and visions of the fiasco at the governor's mansion last year danced across my mind.  It was at that point that I said, "don't you even start that stuff."  So, he moved on to the "fact" that he was staaaaaaarving and why did I not bring snacks.  I responded with a "meet me in the back of the car!"  Never underestimate the power of a forced prayer in the back of a car.  We asked the Lord God Almighty to help us have good manners, to treat Mr. John and Mr. Jim with respect, to make sure our main concern is that the other person has what they need, and for Mellie not to be grumpy because her knee was hurting, and that we all conduct ourselves as we know Jesus would.  Thank you Lord for answered prayers.  Mr. Jim's talk before we walked out to the plane did not hurt either.  He was kind but direct...it was perfect.

So, we met Mr. John who showed the boys every single thing about that plane.  He explained optimum conditions for take-off and landing, they listened in the headphones to other pilots talking, they learned about why numbers are on planes and why different lights are different colors and, I mean, he showed and shared everything with them.  They asked questions, and they were so cute because each time they had a question they would raise their hands.  So sweet.  Max worried that he had asked too many questions, but I assured him that was impossible. When we were finished and driving back, we talked about how nice that was of Mr. John.  I told them that I think Mr. John loves flying and loves sharing it with others.  Find something you love and share it.  I think that was a good lesson they learned.  Another one that Mr. John shared with them, that I'm not sure I agree with, is "planes are like women, they require a lot of money to keep them happy."  Ha!  We saw a $90,000,000 plane.  Let that sink in.  That was not Mr. John's plane.  In fact the boys wondered how much his plane cost, but on some level they thought that might be an impertinent question.  They did rock, paper, scissors to see who had to ask.  $150,00 was the answer.

We left the airport, had probably the most unhealthy snack possible, went to the drugstore to get Mellie some pain meds the doctor called in, came home and wrote thank you notes to Mr. Jim and Mr. John. The boys watched a movie while Mellie laid on the living room sofa moaning and feeling sorry for herself.  The dads graciously picked the boys up at 2:00 instead of 4:00 and Mellie collapsed for the rest of the day.

Aviation Week turned out to be a good week.  As always, there were ups and downs.  We can choose to focus on the downs, or we can embrace the ups and make those our more precious memories.  No Mellie Camp next week.  They are off to different camps, but come June 11 we will have week 2 of the 2019 camp.  We have big plans for two of those days and, I figure we will be ready to just kick back and have a lazy day on the third day.  We'll see.

As always, it is with much gratitude that I get to spend time with these boys.  Hopefully, they are learning something and making good memories.  Even as rotten as I felt, they made the day a great one.

Privilege or Abuse?

I do not watch the news.  I don't trust the media.  They are biased and agenda-driven, in my opinion.  I get my news from my biased, agenda-driven FB friends' posts.  But, one would have to live under a rock to not have heard about the college-admission-for-pay scandal.  The media is rife with indignation over rich privilege.  Google tells me that one of the most vocally incensed reporters will make $500,000 this year at her job.  There are those who might consider that rich privilege, but then all things are relative.  So, I've been asking myself, is it privilege or is it child abuse?

Most parents would tell you that they would do anything for their child, and they mean it when they say it.  I've heard people say (I may have said it myself), "I would stand in front of a moving train for my child."  That's pretty easy to say, because very few of us are going to be called upon to do that.  It sounds lofty and honorable, but, really, it is a pretty empty statement.

It seems the harder question is not would we stand in front of a moving train for our children, but rather would we stand by and watch our children take the hard knocks that will build character in them.  I believe having to watch our children stumble and hurt and pay for bad choices is the hardest and most loving action of being a parent, because there will come a time when we cannot "fix it."  If they have not suffered disappointment and consequences in the small but significant matters of growing up life, how will they ever deal with all that adulthood throws at them?

I find myself in the midst of my disgust over this whole scandal an undercurrent of great sorrow ~ sorrow for parents who have to look at the ineptitude of their children for which they are in some degree responsible and the angst they must (I hope) feel in cheating the system in order to cheat their child of accomplishing their own goals.  I have great sorrow for the children, those who knew their parents were cheating for them and those who did not.  I cannot imagine the embarrassment that they (I hope) feel over knowing their parents do not think them able.  I feel sorrow for those who work at the colleges who were so drawn to money that they would jeopardize their families, their jobs, and their self-respect.  I am working on my sorrow for the guy who orchestrated this whole thing, but even he, in some sense, suffers from the overwhelming sense of entitlement so many people have.  Make no mistake, this sense of entitlement is not unique to rich privilege either.  I must admit that the "I'm entitled" mentality raises my ire faster than most anything because it is the author of rudeness to waitstaff, and sales clerks, and teachers and anyone else we encounter on a day to day basis.  

So, yes, this whole situation is a tragedy for all involved, a tragedy that without a sense of entitlement would never have happened.  There is nothing quite like being able to know you earned your way recognizing always those who helped you get there, for I am a firm believer there are very few (zero) "self-made" folks.  I urge all of us rather than reveling in all our self-righteousness the downfall of the privileged rich, that we look at our own temptations.  It's pretty easy to say we would not pay $500,000 (a year's salary for said reporter) to cheat to get our child in a college they did not earn.  Few of us have that much money lying around to throw at such an endeavor.  Let us think, however, all the ways we "prepare the path for our children rather than preparing our children for the path," as my friend Pat Ward would say.  And for the love of all things right and holy, please let this attitude of "I am entitled to it because I want it" mentality end with this generation of children.  Please!!!

It's That Time Again

Recently, while having lunch with one of my fellow photo challenge cohorts, it was suggested that we needed a new one.  So, for February, 2019, here's the challenge.

Be sure and let us know if you wish, or wish not to be tagged in posts.  As our memories and tech talent allow, we will try to comply.

Since most of us are of "a certain age," I have chosen song titles from the top 100 hits of the 1960s.

I am posting this early, to give us all time to think about it.

So, happy snapping.

February:

1. Brown Eyed Girl
2. Twist and Shout
3. Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch
4. Proud Mary
5. Ain't Too Proud to Beg
6. Mustang Sally
7. Ring of Fire
8. How Sweet it is to be Loved by You
9. I Can't Get no Satisfaction
10. Save the Last Dance for Me
11. Crazy
12. When I'm Sixty-Four
13. Here Comes the Sun
14. I Want to Hold Your Hand
15. With a Little Help From my Friends
16. I'm a Believer
17. Chapel of Love
18. These Arms of Mine
19. I Heard it Through the Grapevine
20. Georgia on My mind
21. Ob-La-Da Ob-La-Di
22. Eight Days a Week
23. This Magic Moment
24. Chain of Fools
25. Stop! In the Name of Love
26. Down on the Corner
27. Build me up Buttercup
28. What a Wonderful World

So, what do you say....as challenging as the idioms or not?  Looking forward to your pictures.