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.
Monday, January 21, 2019
Saturday, December 22, 2018
Souvenirs of the Season
I have been collecting souvenirs; small collectibles to store away as reminders of this season. It has, so far, been a particularly fruitful time for these little acquisitions. Most everywhere I have looked, I have found some little token to treasure. So, I share a few with you, with the wish that you, too, have a cache of souvenirs that bring you joy.
Dinner around my table with a group of people I greatly admire and love. This group always reminds me that in spite of the darkness we see on the news and the idiocy displayed by various people in various walks of life, the world truly is getting better. It is a trajectory of goodness on planet earth, and if we will just take our vocation of working alongside God with a Jesus attitude, we can make our way closer to Eden. I give you a few statistics shared at my table during a lively, yet holy evening:
*in 1988 there were 23 ongoing wars in the world. In 2018 there are 12.
*in 1988 37% of the world lived in extreme poverty. In 2018 that number is down to about 10%, still too many, but progress is happening
*in 1988 there were 60,000 nuclear weapons in existence worldwide. Today there are around 10,000
No doubt, there is work to do, but things are improving. A precious souvenir to add to my collection.
A 3 hour lunch with friends. Four women, all of whom were in the same wedding some 46 years ago and we perused the photos of ourselves from that wedding. We were young then. We are not now. Four women who have lived lives that have included great joy, bone-crushing sorrow, highs and lows, happiness and sadness. Four women who sat in that booth in that restaurant and laughed and made connections and laughed even louder until a gentlemen came and said, "I don't know what you ladies have, but the world needs more of it." Another lively and holy time.
A full day with my friend, doing nothing of much importance, just being together. That day also included great laughter and deep talks about the things that matter to us. A friend who can be trusted with one's deepest feelings is truly a holy gift.
A day with my mother and sister placing flowers on graves, followed by lunch. There was great warmth and laughter in the day. Mom felt much better about the graves being "dressed" for winter and not lying there barren, unattended. Doree and I were so taken with the beautiful job we did, we talked about birthing a new business...Hubzer Grave Fluffers! Tacky? Maybe. I love old cemeteries, but I am not one who feels the presence of the deceased in the graveyard. But, that day, spent with my mother and my sister, contemplating how my grandmother would feel about the beautiful flowers on her grave and how my dad would be fussing at us for spending the money and for being out in the cold arranging flowers with a wire cutter that wouldn't cut tissue paper, made for a holy time.
An evening spent with women I love dearly. We try to get together every month. Our life circumstances are varied, but the one thing we do have in common is that we love our church family and we long to serve it well. It was a sweet, holy time in the home of our gracious hostess.
Days with our sweet Violet dressed in her Christmas clothes, wearing Santa hats all day as if that is the most natural thing in the world for a girl to do. Lunch at The Hermitage Hotel, an evening looking at Christmas lights, crafts and cookie making and cuddling while watching Disney Christmas movies (the same one like 8 times). These days are going quickly and each precious moment is a holy moment for me, even in my fatigue.
The boys' enthusiasm for all things Christmas and watching them at time display such generous spirits, truly in the spirit of Christmas. There are days that I wish I could just freeze a moment and live there forever, but I cannot, so I'm going about collecting my souvenirs as reminders.
I sat at a table with people I did not know. I had a bit of dread for the evening. Mr. L's office party. It was a most delightful evening. Delicious food, amazingly generous people; people who live their lives to serve their family and their communities. I chatted with people awaiting their first grandchild, people whose foster children have been returned to a bad situation with their father and these people do not let go and continue to be involved with the children and with the dad, people who work with CASA to help at risk children. These things are not their paid jobs, but they are their vocation in life. It turned out to be a God-blessed evening.
Two different nights we gathered with people we have known for years to enjoy delicious food and warm atmospheres and the love of friends. I sat and looked around the homes where we were, homes that I have been going to for over forty years, and I felt a holiness of community.
The most holy of my souvenirs was a candlelight evening at church for Lessons and Carols. The music was beautiful, the words preserved from long ago, the voices raised in praise and prayer. A quiet and holy time.
There have been countless other souvenirs collected. Opportunities to serve or participate in community or just sit at home in my cluttered den filled with Christmas joy watching yet another Hallmark movie, listening to Mr. L's quiet snores Mornings spent with my dear daughter, an entire day with my precious son. As my dearly thought-of minister is always reminding us ~ it is all gift. Holy souvenirs, tucked away as reminders of the gift of the season and of each day I am allowed to walk this earth.
Wishing you a joyful Christmas and a peaceful new year.
Dinner around my table with a group of people I greatly admire and love. This group always reminds me that in spite of the darkness we see on the news and the idiocy displayed by various people in various walks of life, the world truly is getting better. It is a trajectory of goodness on planet earth, and if we will just take our vocation of working alongside God with a Jesus attitude, we can make our way closer to Eden. I give you a few statistics shared at my table during a lively, yet holy evening:
*in 1988 there were 23 ongoing wars in the world. In 2018 there are 12.
*in 1988 37% of the world lived in extreme poverty. In 2018 that number is down to about 10%, still too many, but progress is happening
*in 1988 there were 60,000 nuclear weapons in existence worldwide. Today there are around 10,000
No doubt, there is work to do, but things are improving. A precious souvenir to add to my collection.
A 3 hour lunch with friends. Four women, all of whom were in the same wedding some 46 years ago and we perused the photos of ourselves from that wedding. We were young then. We are not now. Four women who have lived lives that have included great joy, bone-crushing sorrow, highs and lows, happiness and sadness. Four women who sat in that booth in that restaurant and laughed and made connections and laughed even louder until a gentlemen came and said, "I don't know what you ladies have, but the world needs more of it." Another lively and holy time.
A full day with my friend, doing nothing of much importance, just being together. That day also included great laughter and deep talks about the things that matter to us. A friend who can be trusted with one's deepest feelings is truly a holy gift.
A day with my mother and sister placing flowers on graves, followed by lunch. There was great warmth and laughter in the day. Mom felt much better about the graves being "dressed" for winter and not lying there barren, unattended. Doree and I were so taken with the beautiful job we did, we talked about birthing a new business...Hubzer Grave Fluffers! Tacky? Maybe. I love old cemeteries, but I am not one who feels the presence of the deceased in the graveyard. But, that day, spent with my mother and my sister, contemplating how my grandmother would feel about the beautiful flowers on her grave and how my dad would be fussing at us for spending the money and for being out in the cold arranging flowers with a wire cutter that wouldn't cut tissue paper, made for a holy time.
An evening spent with women I love dearly. We try to get together every month. Our life circumstances are varied, but the one thing we do have in common is that we love our church family and we long to serve it well. It was a sweet, holy time in the home of our gracious hostess.
Days with our sweet Violet dressed in her Christmas clothes, wearing Santa hats all day as if that is the most natural thing in the world for a girl to do. Lunch at The Hermitage Hotel, an evening looking at Christmas lights, crafts and cookie making and cuddling while watching Disney Christmas movies (the same one like 8 times). These days are going quickly and each precious moment is a holy moment for me, even in my fatigue.
The boys' enthusiasm for all things Christmas and watching them at time display such generous spirits, truly in the spirit of Christmas. There are days that I wish I could just freeze a moment and live there forever, but I cannot, so I'm going about collecting my souvenirs as reminders.
I sat at a table with people I did not know. I had a bit of dread for the evening. Mr. L's office party. It was a most delightful evening. Delicious food, amazingly generous people; people who live their lives to serve their family and their communities. I chatted with people awaiting their first grandchild, people whose foster children have been returned to a bad situation with their father and these people do not let go and continue to be involved with the children and with the dad, people who work with CASA to help at risk children. These things are not their paid jobs, but they are their vocation in life. It turned out to be a God-blessed evening.
Two different nights we gathered with people we have known for years to enjoy delicious food and warm atmospheres and the love of friends. I sat and looked around the homes where we were, homes that I have been going to for over forty years, and I felt a holiness of community.
The most holy of my souvenirs was a candlelight evening at church for Lessons and Carols. The music was beautiful, the words preserved from long ago, the voices raised in praise and prayer. A quiet and holy time.
There have been countless other souvenirs collected. Opportunities to serve or participate in community or just sit at home in my cluttered den filled with Christmas joy watching yet another Hallmark movie, listening to Mr. L's quiet snores Mornings spent with my dear daughter, an entire day with my precious son. As my dearly thought-of minister is always reminding us ~ it is all gift. Holy souvenirs, tucked away as reminders of the gift of the season and of each day I am allowed to walk this earth.
Wishing you a joyful Christmas and a peaceful new year.
Wednesday, November 7, 2018
Election Day
I looked forward to Election Day for many days. Probably not for the reason you are thinking, however. I did have very strong feelings about who I wanted to win. I voted early, so as to have Election Day free from encumbrances. Invitations were sent. Trips to the grocery and Michael's in preparation were made. Lots of conversation with others in planning the day were had. Anticipation ran high. There was some feeling that when election day was over, sadness would ensue.
Finally, election day arrived and Tuesdays with Mellie was revived. Yay!!
Both boys were here by about 9:00 and our day began. First stop, Kroger to buy groceries for the Y.E.S. bags for Harvest Sunday. Pencils were sharpened, lists in hand, explanation of Y.E.S. and its purpose and who it serves were made. The list was read aloud as well as the scripture, Psalm 9:37-38. We proudly declared ourselves "workers in His harvest field!" There is nothing quite like a service project to make a day go brilliantly. It's true, pride goeth before a fall.
I am not exactly sure what happened in the car on the way to the store, but joy and enthusiasm for the project had waned greatly in the 7 1/2 minutes it took to drive to Kroger. It was declared by one boy that maybe he should have made alternate plans for the day. Tuesday with Mellie was not much fun. The lists had been scribbled on, holes poked in them. But, Mellie will not be discouraged nor impatient. We hunted for stuffing and gravy and chicken broth. Teamwork was the name of the game; not really. One of my buddies stated that he wanted to just go home to his dad, but when I pulled out my phone to call, he recanted. By that point, Mellie's courage and patience were wearing thin. Finally, we paid for our groceries, got them loaded in the car, and attitudes were improving. Praise God, literally.
Off to visit Nunny and deliver some funky little flowers we bought for her. She mentioned that her deck was covered in leaves so I asked the boys is they wanted to sweep it for her. Amazingly, they both were quite excited by the prospect. Fortunately, Nunny has two brooms, so to work they went, with great enthusiasm, especially when Nunny promised a monetary reward for a job well-done. As Nunny and I visited inside, suddenly, I heard loud yelling, followed by wailing. It appeared that one precious little boy was being quite bossy and when asked to stop, he refused, so the other precious little boy whacked him in the head with his broom handle. There were some discrepancies in the accounting of the event, of course. I went out and did a bit of sweeping to help them see why they did not have to both be working in the same square foot of the rather large deck, all the time singing our beloved song loudly and off-key: "teamwork, teamwork, Sim, Max and Mellie are a team. Teamwork, teamwork, Sim, Max and Mellie are a team. We work together, we sweep together, we do not fuss and scream. Teamwork, teamwork, Sim, Max and Mellie are a team." After multiple inquiries from one boy as to how much Nunny was paying, I assured him it would be based on how well the job was done. There came a time when one of the boys was growing weary and "needed a break," while the other one was enthusiastically making as large a pile of leaves as possible. The tired one was discussing the merits of equal pay if he did not work as much as the other, stating that it was the other one's choice to keep working. When it was time to leave, Nunny, in all her brilliance, asked the boys what they thought was fair pay. $3.00 was decided upon. A fair deal all the way around, because the boss and the workers were all happy.
Our next stop was Woodmont Park to play on the playground. The boys go there often with Fizzy on Sundays and the day was too beautiful to do anything but be outside. For the most part they played well, and we only had one meltdown and a few cross words. One boy loves all the height and speed he can get on swings or whatever, and the other one not so much. Sometimes, that helps on the playground and sometimes it causes arguments, but all in all, our time at the park was pretty peaceful. Perhaps, we were getting into the Election Day groove.
Home for a lunch of eggs, sausage and inedible hash browns. Then to Cheekwood! Both boys took their cameras, as did Mellie. We took lots of pictures, got fussed at in the mansion for using a flash, which I had turned off...I know I did. We also got corrected for touching the art, which was a bunch of hanging soda bottle tops. I'm sure touching them would have been a disaster, so said my sarcastic, snarky brain, but my mouth apologized and instructed proper art gallery behavior. I was most grateful to get out of there. We shopped at the gift shop by the stables where I made a typical Switzer financial decision, giving each boy $5.00 for the $3.00 he had earned at Nunny's. There is absolutely nothing to be purchased for $3.00 at a Cheekwood gift shop except for a bug repellant bracelet, which each boy was going to buy because, well, how can one possibly not spend the money in one's pocket? They ended up with 2 small books, one of Christmas mazes, and one of vellum pictures to be colored, cut out and hung in a window to make "stained glass." Then to a snack of about 6 sections of mandarin oranges each and a Diet Coke to the tune of $7.00.
By the time we got home, Fizzy was home, and all bets are off when Fizzy is around, so our art project had to be postponed for another day. We will paint those turkeys! I am determined. We built a fire, roasted hot dogs, had s'mores, and the boys and Violet ran around the yard in the dark howling like dogs until it was time for the Hendersons to go home. Max took a bath, put on his PJs and about that time his mom arrived to take him home. I collapsed on the sofa.
It was a day looked forward to with great anticipation. For the most part, it was wonderfully enjoyable on the perfect fall weather day. The day is over, but the memories and pictures will be lovely reminders of Election Day 2018. I say it often, but maybe it cannot be overstated; I am so grateful for the people who have been placed in my life and I marvel at how fortunate I am to have them to love.
Finally, election day arrived and Tuesdays with Mellie was revived. Yay!!
Both boys were here by about 9:00 and our day began. First stop, Kroger to buy groceries for the Y.E.S. bags for Harvest Sunday. Pencils were sharpened, lists in hand, explanation of Y.E.S. and its purpose and who it serves were made. The list was read aloud as well as the scripture, Psalm 9:37-38. We proudly declared ourselves "workers in His harvest field!" There is nothing quite like a service project to make a day go brilliantly. It's true, pride goeth before a fall.
I am not exactly sure what happened in the car on the way to the store, but joy and enthusiasm for the project had waned greatly in the 7 1/2 minutes it took to drive to Kroger. It was declared by one boy that maybe he should have made alternate plans for the day. Tuesday with Mellie was not much fun. The lists had been scribbled on, holes poked in them. But, Mellie will not be discouraged nor impatient. We hunted for stuffing and gravy and chicken broth. Teamwork was the name of the game; not really. One of my buddies stated that he wanted to just go home to his dad, but when I pulled out my phone to call, he recanted. By that point, Mellie's courage and patience were wearing thin. Finally, we paid for our groceries, got them loaded in the car, and attitudes were improving. Praise God, literally.
Off to visit Nunny and deliver some funky little flowers we bought for her. She mentioned that her deck was covered in leaves so I asked the boys is they wanted to sweep it for her. Amazingly, they both were quite excited by the prospect. Fortunately, Nunny has two brooms, so to work they went, with great enthusiasm, especially when Nunny promised a monetary reward for a job well-done. As Nunny and I visited inside, suddenly, I heard loud yelling, followed by wailing. It appeared that one precious little boy was being quite bossy and when asked to stop, he refused, so the other precious little boy whacked him in the head with his broom handle. There were some discrepancies in the accounting of the event, of course. I went out and did a bit of sweeping to help them see why they did not have to both be working in the same square foot of the rather large deck, all the time singing our beloved song loudly and off-key: "teamwork, teamwork, Sim, Max and Mellie are a team. Teamwork, teamwork, Sim, Max and Mellie are a team. We work together, we sweep together, we do not fuss and scream. Teamwork, teamwork, Sim, Max and Mellie are a team." After multiple inquiries from one boy as to how much Nunny was paying, I assured him it would be based on how well the job was done. There came a time when one of the boys was growing weary and "needed a break," while the other one was enthusiastically making as large a pile of leaves as possible. The tired one was discussing the merits of equal pay if he did not work as much as the other, stating that it was the other one's choice to keep working. When it was time to leave, Nunny, in all her brilliance, asked the boys what they thought was fair pay. $3.00 was decided upon. A fair deal all the way around, because the boss and the workers were all happy.
Our next stop was Woodmont Park to play on the playground. The boys go there often with Fizzy on Sundays and the day was too beautiful to do anything but be outside. For the most part they played well, and we only had one meltdown and a few cross words. One boy loves all the height and speed he can get on swings or whatever, and the other one not so much. Sometimes, that helps on the playground and sometimes it causes arguments, but all in all, our time at the park was pretty peaceful. Perhaps, we were getting into the Election Day groove.
Home for a lunch of eggs, sausage and inedible hash browns. Then to Cheekwood! Both boys took their cameras, as did Mellie. We took lots of pictures, got fussed at in the mansion for using a flash, which I had turned off...I know I did. We also got corrected for touching the art, which was a bunch of hanging soda bottle tops. I'm sure touching them would have been a disaster, so said my sarcastic, snarky brain, but my mouth apologized and instructed proper art gallery behavior. I was most grateful to get out of there. We shopped at the gift shop by the stables where I made a typical Switzer financial decision, giving each boy $5.00 for the $3.00 he had earned at Nunny's. There is absolutely nothing to be purchased for $3.00 at a Cheekwood gift shop except for a bug repellant bracelet, which each boy was going to buy because, well, how can one possibly not spend the money in one's pocket? They ended up with 2 small books, one of Christmas mazes, and one of vellum pictures to be colored, cut out and hung in a window to make "stained glass." Then to a snack of about 6 sections of mandarin oranges each and a Diet Coke to the tune of $7.00.
By the time we got home, Fizzy was home, and all bets are off when Fizzy is around, so our art project had to be postponed for another day. We will paint those turkeys! I am determined. We built a fire, roasted hot dogs, had s'mores, and the boys and Violet ran around the yard in the dark howling like dogs until it was time for the Hendersons to go home. Max took a bath, put on his PJs and about that time his mom arrived to take him home. I collapsed on the sofa.
It was a day looked forward to with great anticipation. For the most part, it was wonderfully enjoyable on the perfect fall weather day. The day is over, but the memories and pictures will be lovely reminders of Election Day 2018. I say it often, but maybe it cannot be overstated; I am so grateful for the people who have been placed in my life and I marvel at how fortunate I am to have them to love.
Thursday, September 6, 2018
Who's Game?
Because I spend way more time on Pinterest than I probably should, we sometimes eat interesting soups or desserts, I watercolor my own greeting cards though they be quite rudimentary, I have a quote on just about any subject, I dream about re-doing, well, just about everything in my house and yard, I know how to get rid of a fat belly and arm flaps (knowing how doesn't necessarily mean I follow the advice), I have all manner of handmade holiday decorations, and my grandchildren have done art projects of various kinds.
Also, because of Pinterest, I often find myself involved in unofficial challenges. One reason I do this, is it makes me think creatively. I truly believe one of the most obvious evidences of our divine spark is living creatively ~ not just art or writing or making music, but also in creatively solving life's many problems. Also, I do this because it is fun and it is good for me to set a goal and try to complete it. Because life is full, I do not necessarily put pressure on myself but I do try to meet the expectations of the challenge. I do this usually in January by writing a blog a day. I think I actually wrote 31 blogs only one January because grandchildren and the beach and life captured my attention instead. I can live with that as, I am sure, can the 4 people who read my blog.
On several occasions, the unofficial challenge has been taking a photo a day. There is a list of pictures to take, one for each day of the month, and those who accept the challenge take a picture expressing their interpretation of the "assignment" for the day. The picture is then posted on FB and everyone participating is tagged. It is not going to save the world. It is not going to solve many of life's conundrums. But, it has afforded me the opportunity to reconnect with old friends, and find new friends and be blessed by the associations, not to mention the opportunity to see beautiful pictures of beautiful places. It also opens a little window into the lives and thoughts of each person who participates. Bobby, you scare me a little...just kidding. I think you are amazing and wish I had just a portion of your extroversion. But, alas.....
Because this is quite the challenging challenge, I am posting the list earlier than usual, to give us time to peruse old photos and be looking for new ones to take. I hope all of you who have participated before will do so again, but, NO PRESSURE. I know life is busy. I hope there will be new ones to join us. So...drum roll, please
Idiom Photo Challenge List for October 2018
1. at the drop of a hat
2. back to the drawing board
3. barking up the wrong tree
4. beat around the bush
5. don't judge a book by its cover
6. are you pulling my leg
7. bent out of shape
8. don't put all your eggs in one basket
9. hit the nail on the head
10. hit the sack
11. comparing apples and oranges
12. miss the boat
13. not playing with a full deck
14. he's off his rocker
15. he's on the ball
16. piece of cake
17. seeing eye to eye
18. heard it straight from the horse's mouth
19. hit the books
20. twist my arm
21. up in the air
22. lost your touch
23. sit tight
24. pitch in
25. go cold turkey
26. face the music
27. does it ring a bell
28. rule of thumb
29. under the weather
30. a stab in the dark
31. hang in there
Start thinking, get out your cameras and start shooting. In the meantime, with bated breath, I'll be on deck, waiting in the wings and biting the bullet to see who accepts. See what I did there?
Also, because of Pinterest, I often find myself involved in unofficial challenges. One reason I do this, is it makes me think creatively. I truly believe one of the most obvious evidences of our divine spark is living creatively ~ not just art or writing or making music, but also in creatively solving life's many problems. Also, I do this because it is fun and it is good for me to set a goal and try to complete it. Because life is full, I do not necessarily put pressure on myself but I do try to meet the expectations of the challenge. I do this usually in January by writing a blog a day. I think I actually wrote 31 blogs only one January because grandchildren and the beach and life captured my attention instead. I can live with that as, I am sure, can the 4 people who read my blog.
On several occasions, the unofficial challenge has been taking a photo a day. There is a list of pictures to take, one for each day of the month, and those who accept the challenge take a picture expressing their interpretation of the "assignment" for the day. The picture is then posted on FB and everyone participating is tagged. It is not going to save the world. It is not going to solve many of life's conundrums. But, it has afforded me the opportunity to reconnect with old friends, and find new friends and be blessed by the associations, not to mention the opportunity to see beautiful pictures of beautiful places. It also opens a little window into the lives and thoughts of each person who participates. Bobby, you scare me a little...just kidding. I think you are amazing and wish I had just a portion of your extroversion. But, alas.....
Because this is quite the challenging challenge, I am posting the list earlier than usual, to give us time to peruse old photos and be looking for new ones to take. I hope all of you who have participated before will do so again, but, NO PRESSURE. I know life is busy. I hope there will be new ones to join us. So...drum roll, please
Idiom Photo Challenge List for October 2018
1. at the drop of a hat
2. back to the drawing board
3. barking up the wrong tree
4. beat around the bush
5. don't judge a book by its cover
6. are you pulling my leg
7. bent out of shape
8. don't put all your eggs in one basket
9. hit the nail on the head
10. hit the sack
11. comparing apples and oranges
12. miss the boat
13. not playing with a full deck
14. he's off his rocker
15. he's on the ball
16. piece of cake
17. seeing eye to eye
18. heard it straight from the horse's mouth
19. hit the books
20. twist my arm
21. up in the air
22. lost your touch
23. sit tight
24. pitch in
25. go cold turkey
26. face the music
27. does it ring a bell
28. rule of thumb
29. under the weather
30. a stab in the dark
31. hang in there
Start thinking, get out your cameras and start shooting. In the meantime, with bated breath, I'll be on deck, waiting in the wings and biting the bullet to see who accepts. See what I did there?
Thursday, August 2, 2018
Last Days
Week 4 Day 3
Today is the last day of Mellie Camp for 2018. We had plans to go to the Lane Motor Museum, but something told me that a more laid back day would serve us better. I consulted, sort of, with the boys, and it was agreed that doing something else might be a good plan. We delivered a book to Nunny and then began to drive, looking for a playground. It was decided that we would go to the zoo and play on that playground. I, unwisely, assumed that the zoo would be sparsely attended today, but I was very wrong. After standing in a couple lines, we were able to find someone who would look up Simmy's name and find his membership. My membership got Max and me in.
They played for about an hour, but it was hot, so we decided to leave. I had promised them a specific treat for the last day of camp and we had to go to Target to find it. Lots of moaning and groaning over not finding the exact kind of treat they wanted, until, after a thorough search, at last we found two of the kind they both wanted. These treats come with a toy and when we got home and opened them, tragedy or all tragedies, Simmy got the same dinosaur he already had. We are talking about a tiny little dinosaur, maybe an inch long. Now, I do not want to minimize the importance to him, but, frankly, I only have so much energy to put into a one inch dinosaur. Then, his Pokémon cards were missing and there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth. I let him work out his anger, call his dad, who had been in our house earlier letting Violet play, and !yay! he knew where they were. Tears dried up, lunch was eaten with much silliness.
It was then time for crafts. I had promised Max more string art, which really does make the coolest designs. We were also going to paint rocks. Max found his at Sevier Park on Tuesday, but Simmy had no interest at the time. I was pretty sure that would change, so on my morning walk, I climbed into someone's ditch to unearth a rock as close to the same size and shape as Max's; not because I think they should have everything even, but because, today, I was not up to an upset over a rock. It is almost as exhausting as an upset over a one inch dinosaur.
Our house has become a "no trade" zone. One sweet boy is a wheeler dealer, and I declare he could talk a starving man out of his last piece of bread. It's kind of unreal. But, because feelings get hurt, and good things get traded for crummy things, Fizzy declared our house a "no trade" zone. That causes upset feelings as well, but, oh well. Let me just say here, that Pokémon is a game I do not understand. They have spent quite some time cozied up in my bed with pillows all around "playing" Pokémon. From the noise coming out of the room, I sense that one boy sort of makes up the rules as they go along, guaranteeing that he always wins. I tried to stay out of that.
A few more craft projects and a couple Inspector Gadgets on Netflix, and our last day has ended. Last days are worth noting. The last day before school starts, the last day of a job, the last day before a college freshman goes off to school, last day of singlehood, the last day of vacation, or the last day of being any age. Moments such as these are meant to be mourned and celebrated and appreciated and noted. I know so many who don't live close to their grandchildren, and that would be very hard. This last day will be followed by the typical Sunday of boys at our house. I never take that for granted. Fizzy and I, we don't do much that is monumental. We don't travel a lot. We are pretty pedestrian. We are extremely grateful for the beauty of the everyday enjoying our grandchildren. They are the most magnificent little beings.
Today is the last day of Mellie Camp for 2018. We had plans to go to the Lane Motor Museum, but something told me that a more laid back day would serve us better. I consulted, sort of, with the boys, and it was agreed that doing something else might be a good plan. We delivered a book to Nunny and then began to drive, looking for a playground. It was decided that we would go to the zoo and play on that playground. I, unwisely, assumed that the zoo would be sparsely attended today, but I was very wrong. After standing in a couple lines, we were able to find someone who would look up Simmy's name and find his membership. My membership got Max and me in.
They played for about an hour, but it was hot, so we decided to leave. I had promised them a specific treat for the last day of camp and we had to go to Target to find it. Lots of moaning and groaning over not finding the exact kind of treat they wanted, until, after a thorough search, at last we found two of the kind they both wanted. These treats come with a toy and when we got home and opened them, tragedy or all tragedies, Simmy got the same dinosaur he already had. We are talking about a tiny little dinosaur, maybe an inch long. Now, I do not want to minimize the importance to him, but, frankly, I only have so much energy to put into a one inch dinosaur. Then, his Pokémon cards were missing and there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth. I let him work out his anger, call his dad, who had been in our house earlier letting Violet play, and !yay! he knew where they were. Tears dried up, lunch was eaten with much silliness.
It was then time for crafts. I had promised Max more string art, which really does make the coolest designs. We were also going to paint rocks. Max found his at Sevier Park on Tuesday, but Simmy had no interest at the time. I was pretty sure that would change, so on my morning walk, I climbed into someone's ditch to unearth a rock as close to the same size and shape as Max's; not because I think they should have everything even, but because, today, I was not up to an upset over a rock. It is almost as exhausting as an upset over a one inch dinosaur.
Our house has become a "no trade" zone. One sweet boy is a wheeler dealer, and I declare he could talk a starving man out of his last piece of bread. It's kind of unreal. But, because feelings get hurt, and good things get traded for crummy things, Fizzy declared our house a "no trade" zone. That causes upset feelings as well, but, oh well. Let me just say here, that Pokémon is a game I do not understand. They have spent quite some time cozied up in my bed with pillows all around "playing" Pokémon. From the noise coming out of the room, I sense that one boy sort of makes up the rules as they go along, guaranteeing that he always wins. I tried to stay out of that.
A few more craft projects and a couple Inspector Gadgets on Netflix, and our last day has ended. Last days are worth noting. The last day before school starts, the last day of a job, the last day before a college freshman goes off to school, last day of singlehood, the last day of vacation, or the last day of being any age. Moments such as these are meant to be mourned and celebrated and appreciated and noted. I know so many who don't live close to their grandchildren, and that would be very hard. This last day will be followed by the typical Sunday of boys at our house. I never take that for granted. Fizzy and I, we don't do much that is monumental. We don't travel a lot. We are pretty pedestrian. We are extremely grateful for the beauty of the everyday enjoying our grandchildren. They are the most magnificent little beings.
Wednesday, August 1, 2018
Burps and Hiccups
Week 4 Day 2
Today was practice-our-table-manners day. Needless to say, after yesterday, I was questioning my sanity in following through with plans to have lunch at The Capitol Grille in The Hermitage Hotel, but I was determined.
They did brilliantly. Both dressed so nattily in shorts, button down shirts and ties. They were most handsome escorts. The first thing each of them did was put his napkin in his laps. Yay!! Rule one of good table manners followed. Who knew that the Hermitage Hotel actually had children's menus. They read the menu, chose what they wanted and ordered for themselves after a bit of practice with me before the waiter came to take our orders. "May I please have a grilled cheese, ketchup, and fries, and, do you have root beer?" The waiter assured him that root beer was his beverage of choice and that they certainly had it. The other young gentleman ordered "mac and cheese, French fries and root beer." Forty-five seconds later, there were discreet wails of starvation and "when will our food arrive?" I was grateful for the discretion shown in the quiet cries. I assured them that the 2 baggies worth of snacks they had on the drive to the hotel would sustain them until lunch arrived. The waitstaff at The Capitol Grille does not feel any need for harried scurrying about, so we did wait quite some time for our food, but we entertained ourselves with Matchbox cars and conversation.
Our food arrived, all but Max's fries. Max declared his mac and cheese the best he had ever eaten. Simmy seemed to be enjoying his sandwich. I had a pimiento cheese with fried green tomatoes and arugula sandwich and it was deeeeeelicious!!! Finally, Max's fries arrive, and I am not exaggerating when I say they brought him at least 4 potatoes worth of fries.
I had promised them dessert if they behaved well. I assured them that the grace-driven treat they got yesterday would not be repeated today. Dessert would have to be earned. They did brilliantly. So, Simeon asked our waiter for a dessert menu. He only brought one and handed it to me, so I read aloud the desserts offered. Sim wanted cheesecake and I told him that they did not have cheesecake..."they have chocolate cake, carrot cake, coconut cake, peach cobbler, and ice cream." When the waiter came to take our order, Max asked for ice cream. The waiter shared the kinds they have, "chocolate, vanilla cheesecake..." Max ordered chocolate and Sim ordered the vanilla cheesecake. He did not discover that it was an ice cream flavor until they brought the fancy ice cream spoons and laid them at each place. Simmy immediately asked why they gave him a spoon for cheesecake. I explained that, "they do not have cheesecake." "But, I ordered vanilla cheesecake," he said. I said, "no, you ordered vanilla cheesecake ice cream." His face fell. So, being the strict disciplinarian that I am, I asked, "do you want a piece of coconut, carrot, or chocolate cake?" He ordered coconut.
In the meantime, one boy had to go to the bathroom. I was having flashbacks to our marathon potty session yesterday. I delicately asked if that might be the case today, and he assured me that probably it would be. Oh, shoot. So off to the bathroom we go, but much to my surprise and delight, the potential marathon session was a false alarm and we got out of there in record time. Arriving back at our table, we found a piece of coconut cake that could easily feed an entire moderately-sized family. He ate maybe 3 bites, dug out the middle to make it look like an alligator and so, we got a to-go box.
Also, just as an aside, root beer makes little boys burp and have hiccups. Most of those were quietly expelled, while a few of them were not. I am a loud hiccupper, myself, so I could not be terribly dismayed. Besides, we had been there an hour and forty minutes, so we had pretty well stretched ourselves as far as possible. Thus, we went to the empty veranda in the hotel and ran laps before leaving.
Walking to the library, we passed the park where so many homeless are resting. Simmy asked if I felt sorry for the person sleeping on the cardboard and I assured him that I did. Max said that next time we came back to town he was going to give that person his piggy bank. So sweet. We walked back to the hotel to get our to-go boxes which they kept refrigerated for us, and to pick up our car where we had taken advantage of the valet parking rounded out our time in downtown. I handed each boy a few one dollar bills to tip the valet and after a small scuffle in the car as to who was to sit in which IDENTICAL car seat, we went on our way. 3:00 pick-up time. The house is quiet, and a huge mess.
Today was a much less tiring and stressful day. They boys did 900 times better than I was expecting yesterday at this time. I am having a hard time thinking of them being in school all day every day next week. Why can't school start after Labor Day like it did when we were still sane in this country? I will miss them. I'm pretty sure by tomorrow I'll be weepy over our last day...or I will be weepy because I am desperate for them go just go home. Either way, it has been a good, good summer, and I still contend, that being a Mellie is the best life gig!
Today was practice-our-table-manners day. Needless to say, after yesterday, I was questioning my sanity in following through with plans to have lunch at The Capitol Grille in The Hermitage Hotel, but I was determined.
They did brilliantly. Both dressed so nattily in shorts, button down shirts and ties. They were most handsome escorts. The first thing each of them did was put his napkin in his laps. Yay!! Rule one of good table manners followed. Who knew that the Hermitage Hotel actually had children's menus. They read the menu, chose what they wanted and ordered for themselves after a bit of practice with me before the waiter came to take our orders. "May I please have a grilled cheese, ketchup, and fries, and, do you have root beer?" The waiter assured him that root beer was his beverage of choice and that they certainly had it. The other young gentleman ordered "mac and cheese, French fries and root beer." Forty-five seconds later, there were discreet wails of starvation and "when will our food arrive?" I was grateful for the discretion shown in the quiet cries. I assured them that the 2 baggies worth of snacks they had on the drive to the hotel would sustain them until lunch arrived. The waitstaff at The Capitol Grille does not feel any need for harried scurrying about, so we did wait quite some time for our food, but we entertained ourselves with Matchbox cars and conversation.
Our food arrived, all but Max's fries. Max declared his mac and cheese the best he had ever eaten. Simmy seemed to be enjoying his sandwich. I had a pimiento cheese with fried green tomatoes and arugula sandwich and it was deeeeeelicious!!! Finally, Max's fries arrive, and I am not exaggerating when I say they brought him at least 4 potatoes worth of fries.
I had promised them dessert if they behaved well. I assured them that the grace-driven treat they got yesterday would not be repeated today. Dessert would have to be earned. They did brilliantly. So, Simeon asked our waiter for a dessert menu. He only brought one and handed it to me, so I read aloud the desserts offered. Sim wanted cheesecake and I told him that they did not have cheesecake..."they have chocolate cake, carrot cake, coconut cake, peach cobbler, and ice cream." When the waiter came to take our order, Max asked for ice cream. The waiter shared the kinds they have, "chocolate, vanilla cheesecake..." Max ordered chocolate and Sim ordered the vanilla cheesecake. He did not discover that it was an ice cream flavor until they brought the fancy ice cream spoons and laid them at each place. Simmy immediately asked why they gave him a spoon for cheesecake. I explained that, "they do not have cheesecake." "But, I ordered vanilla cheesecake," he said. I said, "no, you ordered vanilla cheesecake ice cream." His face fell. So, being the strict disciplinarian that I am, I asked, "do you want a piece of coconut, carrot, or chocolate cake?" He ordered coconut.
In the meantime, one boy had to go to the bathroom. I was having flashbacks to our marathon potty session yesterday. I delicately asked if that might be the case today, and he assured me that probably it would be. Oh, shoot. So off to the bathroom we go, but much to my surprise and delight, the potential marathon session was a false alarm and we got out of there in record time. Arriving back at our table, we found a piece of coconut cake that could easily feed an entire moderately-sized family. He ate maybe 3 bites, dug out the middle to make it look like an alligator and so, we got a to-go box.
Also, just as an aside, root beer makes little boys burp and have hiccups. Most of those were quietly expelled, while a few of them were not. I am a loud hiccupper, myself, so I could not be terribly dismayed. Besides, we had been there an hour and forty minutes, so we had pretty well stretched ourselves as far as possible. Thus, we went to the empty veranda in the hotel and ran laps before leaving.
Walking to the library, we passed the park where so many homeless are resting. Simmy asked if I felt sorry for the person sleeping on the cardboard and I assured him that I did. Max said that next time we came back to town he was going to give that person his piggy bank. So sweet. We walked back to the hotel to get our to-go boxes which they kept refrigerated for us, and to pick up our car where we had taken advantage of the valet parking rounded out our time in downtown. I handed each boy a few one dollar bills to tip the valet and after a small scuffle in the car as to who was to sit in which IDENTICAL car seat, we went on our way. 3:00 pick-up time. The house is quiet, and a huge mess.
Today was a much less tiring and stressful day. They boys did 900 times better than I was expecting yesterday at this time. I am having a hard time thinking of them being in school all day every day next week. Why can't school start after Labor Day like it did when we were still sane in this country? I will miss them. I'm pretty sure by tomorrow I'll be weepy over our last day...or I will be weepy because I am desperate for them go just go home. Either way, it has been a good, good summer, and I still contend, that being a Mellie is the best life gig!
Tuesday, July 31, 2018
Quantity vs Quality
Week 4 Day 1
Before I had children, I once heard a man say, "I don't get to spend a lot of time with my kids, but the time I do spend is quality time." Once I had children, I realized what an inaccurate statement that was. One cannot plan quality time with kids and expect it to work out that way. Oh, you might get lucky now and then, because as my daddy used to always say, "even a blind pig finds an acorn now and then," but you cannot ever be sure when kids are going to turn into wackos.
Today at camp was "Civics Day." Reservations were made for our tour of the Tennessee Residence (Governor's mansion), almost two weeks ago. We were all dressed in our Mellie Summer Camp of Excellence tee shirts, proudly claiming what a fine camp it is. We met at the "River" and prayed over our day. Excitement was running high. Cameras were all filled with fresh batteries and off we went, Mellie explaining about the three branches of the government ~ Legislative makes the laws, Judicial interprets the laws, and Executive enforces the laws. Repeat after me...the governor's name is Bill Haslam!
We arrive at the beautiful residence and the tour begins in Preservation Hall. As luck would have it, our tour guide was a friend of Mellie's and so we chatted and caught up as we waited for everyone who was scheduled for the tour to arrive. There were 12 of us. The tour began. Today, I was accompanied by Eeyore and Tigger. Oh.my.word. The bouncing and the pouting and the LOUD "whispers," and the semi-rough housing. The picture taking...Max took pictures of the bathroom door. I don't even know why; I don't. The time came to actually go into the mansion. Both boys ran off to the side of the house, but they did come nicely when I called them. Our guide, who was finding them so precious at the get-go was, just possibly, feeling the tiny bit stressed. We managed to make it through the foyer, but Simmy found the brochures. The boy never met a brochure he didn't like and so, for some unknown reason felt it his responsibility to make sure everybody had one, in spite of my admonitions that he could only get one. Finally, I turned and they were in each other's faces whispering like a deaf person in church, shushing each other. I asked the security guard if it was okay for us to leave, and he assured me without hesitation that yes, that would be fine.
One boy declared this the "worst day of Mellie Camp ever." When I asked why they could not behave with a bit more decorum, they both informed me that they didn't want to come to the Governor's mansion in the first place. I had promised them a treat if everybody acted nicely. As we were driving away, Simmy had the audacity to ask if they had earned their treat. I told him that they had not, but that Mellie Camp was a place of grace, and while they did not earn it, I was going to gift them with their treat. So, off we go to buy $12 worth of Mexican popsicles. After one lick, each boy declared that they would be getting a different flavor next time. That's fine, little dudes, but you will be eating this flavor today. Popsicles were eaten and one kiddo decided that he needed to potty. That started, for me, the nightmare of the day. Let's just say, that the pottying did not go quickly nor efficiently, and was accompanied by the other one turning in circles, talking loudly and sticking his head under the really loud hand dryer. I seriously thought we would never get out of there, but after 1/2 a roll of toilet paper, hands washed multiple times, and the XELERATOR hand dryer, which sounds like an airplane, being set off at least 100 times, we were ready to walk out of there. Every person in the popsicle store was looking at the door and laughing as we left.
Off to Sevier Park to do what little boys like to do....run free and play. A stop at The Parent Teacher Store for $2 worth of brass paper fasteners. $20 later we head home for lunch and our Civics project. I had to fight Simmy to not write "Fat Donald Trump" on his Executive of the Federal Government page, but I did win that one. Then, wonder of all wonders...we made cars. We worked with bottle tops, clay, cardboard, straws, wooden skewers, hot glue, straws, and duct tape. We made two powerful cars and took them to the hallway to have a race. Balloons were blown up through the straws ~ get ready, get set, GO! Nothing. They went nowhere. Not even an inch. I laughed hysterically. The boys were offended that I found humor in the debacle. I was just thinking that each car probably cost $7 considering all the supplies I bought. They did nothing. They went nowhere. A movie, dinner, baths, rounded out our day.
Don't speak to me of quality time with kids, with spouses, with friends. It takes quantity to get quality. Today wasn't our best camp day. It may have been the worst Mellie Camp day of all. But, we redeemed it, and all in all, I would say it was a pretty good day. But if it had been our only "quality time" day, we would have been sorely disappointed.
Before I had children, I once heard a man say, "I don't get to spend a lot of time with my kids, but the time I do spend is quality time." Once I had children, I realized what an inaccurate statement that was. One cannot plan quality time with kids and expect it to work out that way. Oh, you might get lucky now and then, because as my daddy used to always say, "even a blind pig finds an acorn now and then," but you cannot ever be sure when kids are going to turn into wackos.
Today at camp was "Civics Day." Reservations were made for our tour of the Tennessee Residence (Governor's mansion), almost two weeks ago. We were all dressed in our Mellie Summer Camp of Excellence tee shirts, proudly claiming what a fine camp it is. We met at the "River" and prayed over our day. Excitement was running high. Cameras were all filled with fresh batteries and off we went, Mellie explaining about the three branches of the government ~ Legislative makes the laws, Judicial interprets the laws, and Executive enforces the laws. Repeat after me...the governor's name is Bill Haslam!
We arrive at the beautiful residence and the tour begins in Preservation Hall. As luck would have it, our tour guide was a friend of Mellie's and so we chatted and caught up as we waited for everyone who was scheduled for the tour to arrive. There were 12 of us. The tour began. Today, I was accompanied by Eeyore and Tigger. Oh.my.word. The bouncing and the pouting and the LOUD "whispers," and the semi-rough housing. The picture taking...Max took pictures of the bathroom door. I don't even know why; I don't. The time came to actually go into the mansion. Both boys ran off to the side of the house, but they did come nicely when I called them. Our guide, who was finding them so precious at the get-go was, just possibly, feeling the tiny bit stressed. We managed to make it through the foyer, but Simmy found the brochures. The boy never met a brochure he didn't like and so, for some unknown reason felt it his responsibility to make sure everybody had one, in spite of my admonitions that he could only get one. Finally, I turned and they were in each other's faces whispering like a deaf person in church, shushing each other. I asked the security guard if it was okay for us to leave, and he assured me without hesitation that yes, that would be fine.
One boy declared this the "worst day of Mellie Camp ever." When I asked why they could not behave with a bit more decorum, they both informed me that they didn't want to come to the Governor's mansion in the first place. I had promised them a treat if everybody acted nicely. As we were driving away, Simmy had the audacity to ask if they had earned their treat. I told him that they had not, but that Mellie Camp was a place of grace, and while they did not earn it, I was going to gift them with their treat. So, off we go to buy $12 worth of Mexican popsicles. After one lick, each boy declared that they would be getting a different flavor next time. That's fine, little dudes, but you will be eating this flavor today. Popsicles were eaten and one kiddo decided that he needed to potty. That started, for me, the nightmare of the day. Let's just say, that the pottying did not go quickly nor efficiently, and was accompanied by the other one turning in circles, talking loudly and sticking his head under the really loud hand dryer. I seriously thought we would never get out of there, but after 1/2 a roll of toilet paper, hands washed multiple times, and the XELERATOR hand dryer, which sounds like an airplane, being set off at least 100 times, we were ready to walk out of there. Every person in the popsicle store was looking at the door and laughing as we left.
Off to Sevier Park to do what little boys like to do....run free and play. A stop at The Parent Teacher Store for $2 worth of brass paper fasteners. $20 later we head home for lunch and our Civics project. I had to fight Simmy to not write "Fat Donald Trump" on his Executive of the Federal Government page, but I did win that one. Then, wonder of all wonders...we made cars. We worked with bottle tops, clay, cardboard, straws, wooden skewers, hot glue, straws, and duct tape. We made two powerful cars and took them to the hallway to have a race. Balloons were blown up through the straws ~ get ready, get set, GO! Nothing. They went nowhere. Not even an inch. I laughed hysterically. The boys were offended that I found humor in the debacle. I was just thinking that each car probably cost $7 considering all the supplies I bought. They did nothing. They went nowhere. A movie, dinner, baths, rounded out our day.
Don't speak to me of quality time with kids, with spouses, with friends. It takes quantity to get quality. Today wasn't our best camp day. It may have been the worst Mellie Camp day of all. But, we redeemed it, and all in all, I would say it was a pretty good day. But if it had been our only "quality time" day, we would have been sorely disappointed.
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