FIFTEEN!

The Man, my youngest, turned 15 yesterday. I think this next Saturday is when it will really hit me – when I take him to test for his learner’s permit to drive. Will he pass? Will HE be the one behind the wheel as we leave the DMV?

Will took him on a fishing trip the end of last week. Down to the gulf and out into the rolling waves.

After three Spanish Mackerels, one King Mackerel, one shark and much of the time laying down, The Man jumped into helping clean the boat, once all was on land, and as he did, had this to say to Will:

(The flip flop was not part of  the catch{{smile}})


The Man: Thank you for taking us (a cousin had joined the crew)fishing, I had a great time.

Will: Glad you did, but sorry you felt so bad.

The Man: That’s ok, it just felt so good to be on the water…



I love him! Motion sick and yet still found the silver lining.

I hope that is a trait that never leaves him.

Peddling Peddlers

The backpack. The bike. No white shirt and no dark pants. No, it is actually shorts and a t-shirt.

Yes, it is summertime. Time for the summer push of books to help our kids excel in school. Books they don’t open past the initial purchase. At least not mine.

I spotted him a week ago a couple blocks away. When I returned home, I let The Man know that he didn’t need to open the door if someone came to it. Last summer, Ocho and Demolition D and The Man were home when the book peddler showed up. They answered the door and somehow left The Man (the youngest) to patiently hear out the traveling college student.

Do they visit your neighborhood? College students from abroad, stateside for the summer, to see America, improve their English?

One evening maybe 3 years ago, we ended up with one of these visitors sitting on our living room floor trying to sell us books. Trying between the questions we were asking regarding their life and their home. While we did not buy, she was a persistent salesperson.

So I tend to avoid them.

The other night I spotted the peddler again. This time, as I looked out the window at home.

It was about 7pm Friday night.

We were putting the finishing touches on dinner.

Liquid gold had just started to fall. We are in a drought so even a 20 minute shower is a wonder to see.

The peddler stopped his bike, then looked around at the pine trees. We have one with a somewhat lower, fat branch, so he and his backpack of books attempted to take refuge underneath.

As I was battling inside with my conscience: do I call out to him to come to the porch, No I don’t want to buy any books, Maybe, do you want to come in, ugh, a book salesmen….My wonderful husband noticed him. After a second he asked what I thought about inviting him in to join us for dinner.

And that is what he did. He walked out in the rain, greeted the young man with, “We don’t want to buy anything, but would you like to join us for dinner.”

An immediate yes was the reply.

Reima the peddling book peddler joined us for dinner.

At 17 and 15, Demolition D and The Man enjoyed asking questions and hearing about Reima’s home in Estonia. As my wonderful husband tried to enunciate to help our foreign visitor understand our English, I realized, maybe all Americans get loud when trying to speak to a person with broken English and a strong foreign accent. We learned a little about Finland too.

After Reima left, to finish his route, and hopefully sell some books, Will called Traveler in Philly to tell her about our guest from Estonia. Since she loves all things foreign, this would be something she found interesting. And she did.

While we had a great time learning about his home and goals for his future and a few of his encounters here, I relished more in the experience and example for our children.

I relish in the fact that Will demonstrated “love your neighbor.” That my kids got to see that in action. As I laid in bed that night, I felt like the kids were able to be a part of the “as you have done to the least of these.” Not to say this gentleman was “the least of these,” but inviting a stranger in for dinner, is not common place.

The next day I hijacked Will’s facebook, and I was delighted to read a comment Traveler had left on his page: I told a friend from work and she said, "wow, that's something from another era!" I was like, "no, people are just nice in Georgia."

So not only did my husband’s suggestion and offer demonstrate love to this house, Will’s humble, no ulterior motivated, straight from the heart, decision demonstrated a good deed followed through on to other’s, 900 miles away in Philadelphia.

I feel so blessed!

"Dear friend, you are being faithful to God when you care for

the traveling teachers who pass through, even though

they are strangers to you."

3 John 1:5 (NLT)

Top o' the morning Alabama

While the boys sang their way to Boston on the Church Choir trip, Will and I took a few days to adventure a little further with our tin can (aka- Airstream).


I came across a link for one of Alabama’s State Parks – Cheaha Mountain State Paork. The site boasted of a magnificent view, waterfalls and the highest spot in Alabama. I thought the name was interesting – we have a Cheehaw park here in our town, and while the spelling is diffent, Cheaha is pronounced the same.

Will agreed to the adventure, knowing I like hill and mountains and waterfalls. And I better not forget, he liked the challenge to see if the ol’ truck could handle pulling the MUCH older camper up the incline.

So our adventure started.



Day 1

First: Loading our furry four legged friend. She is not the easiest dog to travel with. Seems that if there is another car in site or a pedestrian, she seems to get all anxious. Paces and pants and whines and whimpers and sheds even more hair than she normally does 365 days a year.

Second aspect of the adventure: The steep incline and narrow way to the wooded retreat that awaited us.

My pictures just do not do it justice.

Third: Setting it up. Now that is usually pretty easy, except this campground was on top of a rocky mountain. And it is a state park. So REAL level parking pads were almost nonexistent. I wish I had snapped a picture of the stacked 2x4’s and rocks.

And that was it. All settled in. Well almost. A quick run to the closest town (20 miles) to pick up some groceries. And a chance to stay in air conditioning a little longer. Did I mention this was early June and we had maintained highs in the low 100’s at home? We turned on the air conditioner in the camper, locked Francie in the home away from home and set off to pick up some groceries to have a wonderful fire side dinner later.

It took longer on those winding up and down roads than we thought, so plans changed as we neared the campground, and realized it was still hot. This campground also had a restaurant. But first, we thought we should check out the over look before going back to camp. We missed the turn and had to drive the loop around campground again. Then we turned on the wrong road, and since it is all one way, we drove the loop again. Only 2.5 miles, but we sure felt silly.

We walked the wonderful boardwalk to an amazing site (gnats and still hot air aside)!

We drove back to the campsite to unload the groceries and head to dinner. As we parked and stepped out of the truck, the neighboring camper came over

“Just wanted to let you know, someone came by and said to tell you someone saw water running out your door, so the water has been turned off”

There are moments when reality just does not really register. This was one of those times. No reaction, it wasn’t really sinking in. We walked to the camper and rug outside the door was wet. We opened the door, to let Francie out – surprised she wasn’t soaked. Just one spot on her back – she had quickly found higher ground.

We had leveled the camper side to side, but front to back was off by a hair, the front being just a smidgen lower. And weren’t we glad. Apparently, there had been a surge in water pressure, while we were gone, and a hose under the sink had popped off. That slight slant to the front had kept the water in the front and running out the door. Never dreamed our first waterfall would be our camper! We laughed - another story in life to laugh about later. After Will repaired the water line and I was finished mopping up all the water (and deciding that was the cleanest the camper floor had been). We again set out for dinner. We parked and walked up to the door of the restaurant.

Locked.

????

It was 8:20. On Thursday’s the restaurant closes at 8:00.

Nothing that some cheese, crackers and a glass of wine could not cure…followed by a good night sleep.

Day 2 will just have to wait til another day.

Squid Sneezes

Sometimes, in the middle of a routine activity, something fresh and new can be seen. That is what we experienced on Spring Break. A routine, quick trip to the beach opened up to a new activity none of us had ever given thought to.

Do you eat Calamari?


I do sometimes. The Man was on a calamari kick for a little bit.

When tired of the boys asking “what’s for dinner” after a long day, I sometimes answer with a silly answer of squid fingers.

Have you ever thought about how squid lands on your plate as calamari.

Me? Not really, except I know it would have involved deep waters and HUGE monster squid and dark music playing in the background.

On this trip, while on a quick run to the store and a few minutes of fishing for Flounder at the marina, my sister in law, and the kids in tow (The Man included) were taught something by the locals.

The squid were spawning!

They aren't so big after all:

Turns out a nifty lure, a quick flick of the wrist and a bucket to hold ones catch and one can have fresh Calamari. Oh, and the ability to pull the little squids away from boats before they ink everything in sight.

A squid’s natural defense is to spray a black inky substance when he thinks he is in danger. In the water, it really clouds things up.

But they do not know they are in trouble until they attack the lure and are quickly yanked up and out of the water. So their reflexes sometimes have them inking out of the water.

As they were collected in the bucket, they kept make a noise, one that grew more frequent as the number of bucketed squid grew. They still believed they were in danger, so the continued to attempt to ink the area, and the sound that made sounded much like the sound of little ones sneezing.

Squid Sneezes . . .

Colors

My new career finds me back at a computer (Yes!) located in a room affectionately referred to as the cave. The cave, itself, is located in one of many buildings on a Military Base.

Today, after a week, my timing of a vending machine break was impeccable! As I made my way through the maze, I happened near a door and could hear a bugle. I walked to the door and started to open it. As I did, there on our back landing stood one of the Marines that works in the cave, at full attention, still as a statue. I stopped in my steps, and turned my attention to where he faced, and took in the sight of the flag blowing in the breeze. I finished listening to the Colors and felt a tingle of patriotism, as well as feeling that I had invaded someone’s privacy.

I have continued to think about the respect that is shown and why the flag, and music, and freeze frame images of those standing (or driving) triggers goose bumps. Patriotism, yes, but as I process it, I wonder, how often do we see this example of respect? I think it is the sight of such respect that touches those feelings. I feel privileged this morning to have happened upon this daily ritual. I feel grateful to all the many people, which I now work in the midst of, that have made our way of life possible. I wish all could see and feel what I felt this morning - more often than the Fourth of July celebration or Memorial day. In fact, those days do not truly even touch on what I saw this morning.


I think I will have to make a point to take a quick break at that time more often…

Being brilliant is no great feat if you respect nothing.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Embraced

It is amazing how hindsight works. I don’t mean it , this time, as in identifying mistakes or woulda-coulda-shoulda’s. No I mean being able to look back on the road traveled and seeing it with eyes of gratefulness and joy.

 

As I look back over the past six months, I see how busy we truly have been. And I see all the playing we have fit in too.

 

So many activities that many, many pictures are a record of - all having been snapped with the intention of fabulous blog posts. The fabulous blog post did not happen.

 

There was:

 

A prom

Spring Break Trip

Backyard Tourist

Cold Knee-boarding Trip

Kids Choir Trip

A House Painted

A New Career Begun

 

As I think of this spring and then I think further back to a year ago at this time. I am amazed. Many activities; many changes; many hurdles; many lows; many highs; and many transitions laced thru it all.

Through it all, growing too.

 

Growing character, stamina, faith, patience and peace. All areas that were tried or strengthened or embraced.

 

I celebrate it all, I embrace the hapiness it all brings me . . .

Smiles!

 

Loss For Words

This Spring has been one of the busiest ones I can remember.

So many experiences.

So many pictures.

So many thoughts.

But the words will just not flow from my mind, threw these fingers of mine.

At least not lately.

But one day soon.

I hope.

Smiles!

“Think left and think right and think low and think high. Oh, the thinks you can think up if only you try!”  

Dr. Suess