"Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to let you in."

-- Robert Frost

Friday, July 29, 2011

Summer's grand finale

Mail came yesterday.

And in it, our program for this next week.  We talk about this all summer long and long after summer's gone.  Tonight, the projects sit atop the piano, the books of spread sheet accounting, expense reports, goal setting and self evaluations, pictures, project stories, receipts, and full on blood, sweat and tears are finished and wait in silence for tomorrow.  Time to sit back ... enjoy the week ... and see what the future holds.

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Scout Camp

My brothers are all heap big scouters.  Growing up in the Appalachian mountains of Western North Carolina, they had Camp Daniel Boone at their fingertips.  One night of the week was family night.  My parents would load all of us kids into the van and make the trip to see the great things my brothers were up to and attend their campfire evening program.

I was up to my own great things but that trip to check out the camp always filled me with scouting envy.

Pulling up to Christian's scout camp to pick him up for our trip to Utah, dug up all that old jealousy.

On our drive we listened and listened to his adventures.  

Beginning with the bruises all over his chest once he took off his life vest.  Explanation:  Purple Nurple wrestling before bed.  "But you should see the other guys, Mom!" Great. 

And the boys calling him a legend for climbing a pine tree to pee from the top. 

And the dead bat his best friend picked up during flag ceremony accompanied by his freak out when it came back to life in his hand.

And the sneaking from tent to tent after dark to pounce on friends.

And the good natured teasing and ribbing. 

And the cool merit badge classes.

And the first aid drill where they thought their leader had really been run over by a truck only to realize after a full five minutes that the gore wasn't real.

And the homemade swing and the balance beam hand wrestling and the mud pit and the carving with knives.

And watching the other boys in our rear view mirror, chasing our car as they waved their goodbyes all the way out of camp.

Ah, the antics of boys.  Sans the nurples and tree urinal .... where do I sign up?

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Watson Reunion, Bear Lake 2011

It's true.
God must have loved Watsons.  He made so many of them.

Hard not to miss these people.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Not so disappointed ... post editorial

Yesterday afternoon, as Celia and I sat on upturned buckets pulling weeds in our garden, I offered to take her to see the last Harry Potter before we pick up Christian from scout camp this weekend.  It just seemed easier not to rock that boat while he was home.

The silence lasted for a moment and then she sat up straight.

"Mom, I think I just want to wait until November when Christian can see it.  It's not as exciting to watch it alone."

That's the stuff that makes life with these kids unforgettable.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Disappointment ... get used to it.

One upon a time in a little town called Westlake Village, California, there was a young mother of a two year old and three month old, who took her children vigilantly to the local Barnes & Noble for story time.  They were regulars.  However, on one particular morning, they showed up to find a longish line of people streaming through the doors and spilling out onto the sidewalk.

"What's everyone in line for?" she asked a passerby.

"Some author is here to sign her first book.  People always get excited over these things.  You know .. it's California.  Celebrity and all.  Some lady named Rowling.  J.L ... J.M ... J.K ...  not even a real name."

And that mother pushed her double stroller on passed the Barnes & Noble, sorry to have her beloved story time bumped for a stupid book signing and bought a bagel down on the corner as a consolation prize for her disappointed little ones. 

Who are still disappointed in her, all these years later.

But hey, she is nothing if she's not consistent and disappointment is her middle name.

That would be why the law irrevocably decreed in our home that PG-13 means 13, just seems to add insult to injury.

Just think of extending the inevitably ending of an era into November as the consolation prize this time around.  It'll be the best thirteenth birthday ever.  Beats a bagel if you ask me.

And sent from my sister .... Christian, this one's for you.

Monday, July 18, 2011

Linford Reunion

It seems I never get to stay as long as I'd like at these gatherings.  Last night, Christian and I hauled from St. George, Utah in order to get home for scout camp at 6 am this morning.  The rest of the family stayed to enjoy more family festivus and I'm seething with jealousy as they horseback ride and talent show their afternoon away.

Avoiding the suitcase I need to unload and repack for the next weekend journey ahead, garden that needs tending and chicken chores to upkeep, I'm pretending I can still smell the unbelievable pine scent of those beautiful mountains.

Here's to festivus for the rest of us, Linford cousins, fun, and memories not soon forgotten.