Book Review: Early Summer

I’ve Got Your Number by Sophie Kinsella-Sophie Kinsella, who authored the Shopaholic series (a favorite of mine), has written another good one.  The main character, Poppy, loses her engagement ring and cell phone shortly before her wedding day but finds a cell phone in a garbage can that she decides to call her own.  Unfortunately, the cellphone belongs to a man (Sam) who wants the phone returned, though  Poppy talks him into letting her keep it for awhile, as it’s the only way she can be contacted if her ring is found.  Some of the book is told through emails and texts, which is very fun, and unlike many chick lit books which can be very predictable, the reader really doesn’t know where this book is going:  Poppy is engaged to Magnus,  Sam is engaged to someone (can’t remember her name), and although Poppy and Sam work up quite a fun relationship, nothing seems wrong enough with Magnus for her to ditch him for Sam (in real life that can happen, but generally, in chick lit, a fiance is ditched only when  proven horrible).  Poppy is very much like Becky in the Shopaholic series (a bumbling, silly, sweet girl who makes mistake after mistake but is loved universally anyway) and although I’d say I’d like Kinsella to be more original, Poppy was very fun to read so I was okay with it.  This would be a great beach read!

Albert Nobbs by George Moore-This nice little novella was set in the late 1800’s and centered around waiter Albert Nobbs.  Early on, the reader discovers that Albert is actually a woman disguised as a man (in the late 1800’s, the only jobs available to an orphaned teenage girl would have been prostitution etc., so she disguises herself as a man so she can be a waiter).  After quite a lot of years as a man, Albert is accidentally discovered to be a woman.  Her secret is out to just one person, who suggests Albert stay a “man” and find a woman to marry:  to find a girl in trouble, “marry” her, and live together as a partnership.  Albert, who has lived a lonely life, decides to try.  The book was a little hard to follow at times, as the author doesn’t use quotation marks and doesn’t even begin a new paragraph when characters take turns speaking.  I had to reread passages often to figure out who was talking.  This is a nice, gentle, book.  You will want Albert to be happy.  The novella was recently made into a movie starring Glenn Close as Albert.  I think it was up for an Academy Award, and I’d like to see it, though I’ll admit The Hangover Part II is ahead of it on my list.

Jeneration X by Jen Lancaster-I love Jen Lancaster’s memoirs (and her blog, Jennsylvania,, which you’ll find linked over there on the right), and this book was no exception.  The only downside to this very funny read, was that I had already read much of the content in her blog!  Apparently, many other readers felt the same way, because in a recent blogpost she mentioned that her next memoir (which she is currently writing) will have all completely new material, not stories embellished from blogposts, so I am greatly looking forward to that particular book.  If you haven’t been reading Lancaster’s blog all along, I’m sure you’ll love this book.

Gone Girl by GillianFlynn-RUN TO THE LIBRARY OR THE BOOKSTORE NOW AND GET YOURSELF THIS BOOK!  I couldn’t put this baby down.  Amy and Nick have a picture perfect marriage from the outside, but on the day of their fifth anniversary, Amy turns up missing.  Nick, as the husband, is immediately under suspicion.  The book has three parts, and the first part is told in alternating chapters by Nick and then Amy.  Nick maintains his innocence and tells the reader what is happening as it unfolds on the day of the murder?/kidnapping? whereas Amy’s chapters are from her diary and describe the couple’s past, beginning with the day they met.  There are so many twists and turns in this book, there are no loose ends (the type that make you mad at an author for deliberately misleading you to make things mysterious…all is brilliantly explained and makes sense to you), and the writing is (sorry, I’m going to say it again:  BRILLIANT).  Yes, this is a suspense/murder mystery, but it’s also a chillingly psychological look at marriage, at male/female roles, and at how the media (Facebook, Twitter, CSI-like shows) influence our beliefs.  I don’t want to tell you too much more for fear of ruining any surprising plotpoints (and believe me, you will be surprised left and right).  Seriously, why are you still sitting there?  Why aren’t you in line at the bookstore with a copy of this book and a gift card for me in your hand (thank you for the great recommendation, Beth, may I offer you this gift card as a token of my heartfelt appreciation?)

The Hypnotist’s Love Story by Liane Moriarty- I read and enjoyed Moriarty’s What Alice Forgot recently and loved it.  While not quite as page-turning as her first novel, I really did enjoy The Hypnotist’s Love Story.  What I liked most is, once again, the reader will not necessarily know how the book is going to end, which, again, isn’t usually true for most lighter fiction.  Ellen, a kind, caring hypnotherapist, begins the novel single, but meets a nice man on the internet whose only (initial) fault is that he is stalked daily by his former girlfriend.  I don’t want to give too much of the plot away, but a lot happens in the 300 or so pages in this book, which is not a thriller (though I know it sounds like it could be) but is instead fun beach reading.  I definitely recommend this one to you!

Sneaker FAIL

Ben has needed new sneakers for months.

 

Note the hole in the toe, the worn treads, and the white plastic lining poking through the black cloth lining.

Back in June we finally had a chance to go to the sneaker store and get him a pair. Unfortunately, this is what he picked out:

                                                        Sorry for blurry photo.

I took a picture of it, because I wanted to show it to Dave.  It didn’t seem very supportive or whatever, in fact, it seemed kind of…decorative, and not very useful.  Kind of like Kim Kardashian.

Here is Ben when I told him we wouldn’t be buying those sneaks today:

                               “Really?  Whaaat?  But they’re perfect!”

After speaking to several authorities (Dave, Aunt Sue, and our priest), I decided we would not ever be buying those sneakers.  They are Skater Sneakers, apparently, and are, as I suspected, more for looks than actual physical activity.  I gave Ben the option of buying them himself or asking for them for his birthday in August, but we would be buying real, supportive, not gangsta-looking sneakers for him instead. 

A week or two later we returned to the same store, because his own sneakers were just getting worse.  He understood that he needed to pick other sneakers.  But we left the store that day emptyhanded because he just couldn’t find anything he liked and he was very grouchy and I wanted to leave him at the store that day, if truth be told.  We looked at two more stores.  Nada.

A week later, Grandma W. asked what he’d like for his birthday, and he suggested those sneakers.  She agreed!  I was excited, because it meant that now he would more willingly pick out ordinary sneakers, since he knew he’d be getting the sneaks he wanted.  We headed to the sneaker store.

And it was the same freaking story all over again.

Maddie waiting her turn for Aeropostale.    Also, me trying to take a pic of the two of us, and misjudging the subject location (I have an old phone and can’t see the subject if I’m doing a self-portrait), anywho, doesn’t my eye look cute?  And doesn’t Maddie look ready for a nap?

Then I took a two week hiatus of sneaker shopping and checked myself into Philhaven for a good long rest.

Fast forward to the end of July.  This week.  Our neighbor, Nathan, had new sneakers, and Ben really liked them.  I checked them out and they looked like good, acceptable sneakers to me, so we headed back to the sneaker store where there were a ton of sneakers just like the ones Nathan had…but not exactly the right name (which Ben had burned into his memory). 

Here is Ben searching, and then giving the Fake Nathans a test run.

The Fake Nathans did not pass the test.  And we left that $%&* store again with no sneakers.

Yesterday, we headed to Dick’s, where Nathan had bought his actual sneakers. 

AND JOY!

                               I used a $15 off coupon, people, stop judging me.

It is a happy, happy day at our house!!!

By the way, if you are thinking either

a) this story sounds somehow familiar or

b)  I’d have just bought him what I wanted, I’m the adult here, who cares what a ten year old thinks!

then read this post.

Memories

So you’d think with the kids home with me every day I’d have so much to tell you about, there’d be lots of sweet stories about brotherly/sisterly love and all the fun crafts we’re doing and the cutest thing that darling Jack said, and blah blah blah.

But instead I’m just going to tell you about some memories of mine.  The blogpost last week with the old family photos was really fun to write, and I enjoyed thinking about things I hadn’t thought about in a long time. I’m also going to show you some recently taken pictures of bugs and flowers because blogs generally need photos, no matter how brilliant my personal memories are.  Ahem.

So what pops into my head for some reason is my first memory, which is spilled Spaghettios on the linoleum.  I spilled them off either my high chair or the table and I remember looking down and seeing them on the brick patterned linoleum and thinking, “Mom is not going to like this.”

I don’t remember if she liked it or not.  I’ve just got the visual.

The grasshopper is in the house, Jack is outside of the house.  We switched them out after the photo shoot.

Since I started so young, I think I’ll keep going from there!  I remember getting one of those babies that you can feed (Baby Alive, maybe?) when I was about 3 and what did I do to that lovely baby on Christmas morning, mere minutes/hours after she was pulled from her box for me?  I scribbled on her belly with pen.  I didn’t know it was wrong until mom pointed it out, not so nicely, and then I couldn’t believe I had ruined my new baby.

I learned my lesson though and am proud to tell you that I never, not even once, scribbled on my own actually real babies at any point during their infancies.   Though I was mighty tempted.

Children (not just my own, but the children for whom I substitute teach) are always fascinated with my right thumb.  It’s kind of wonky looking thanks to a bike accident I had when I was in second grade.  My friend Kelly and I were racing our bikes down our road.  I was winning and Kelly was mad, so she rammed my bike with hers.  I flew over my handlebars, my bike landed on me, and Kelly and her bike landed on top of all of that. 

My thumbnail was ripped clean off my thumb as a result.

We stumbled to the nearest neighbor (and Kelly was now being very nice to me, that stinkin’ little…thing) who wrapped my finger in a tea towel and got me home.  My parents rushed me to the ER, and I don’t really remember much except

-my dad fainted

-I got shots in my thumb (I still don’t know why) and I kept begging when would this be over and my parents (probably my mom who was still conscious) kept  telling me we’d be heading to Dairy Queen as soon as we were done.

-So I started begging when are we going to Dairy Queen?

And then I got to go to Dairy Queen and I was a hero in school the next day!

We had the WORST neighbors ever when I was a kid.  It was a family with three boys and here are some of the things they did:

-one of them dropped a sledgehammer on my head from the roof of their shed (another ER visit).

-one of them chased my bratty brother Dave with an axe (Dave probably deserved it).

-they shot our cat Satchmo with an arrow and they cut our cat Rosie with a knife.

-they threw stones at my mother.

-they had a big dog who ran over and ripped a kitten out of my hand and ate it.

-they made my school bus rides miserable and are the reason I cried when I put Maddie on a bus the first day of kindergarten.

They moved away when I was in college and I have heard since then that 2 of the boys have done prison time.  And I just bet they drew on their children’s bellies with pen.

When I was in high school I watched a cooking show and thought I’d try to be creative in the kitchen.  I made pickle soup (my own recipe!)  Surprisingly, it was not good.  Don’t try to make your own version.  This is good advice, people.

After my college graduation ceremony, my parents helped me load up my car (and theirs) and then we drove home.  I asked to drive alone because I was feeling a little teary.  A little teary?  I sobbed, and I mean SOBBED for the first hour of the drive.  I can’t believe I didn’t get into an accident.  I loved college with all of my heart.  I think I knew that life would never be as awesome again as those four years were.  I’ve explained this to Dave and added, “Not that life with you isn’t awesome,” but he understands because he loved college too.  Life now is wonderful and I’m so happy with the choices I’ve made, but college was all about new found independence, parties, studying a subject I loved, road trips, being silly, staying up late, and hanging out with the best friends ever, who all lived mere feet away from me(I grew up with no friends my age on my little street).    I knew I was headed back home and was excited to find a teaching job and start my “real” life, but it was dawning on me that my college years were a gift with an expiration date. 

My favorite wedding memory?  Between our ceremony and the reception, Dave and I rode in the limo to have some wedding photos of just us taken.  Dave had the limo stocked with champagne and snacks and we spent the next hour of what was a whirlwind day just hanging out, the two of us, relishing our newlywed status, all alone (except for the limo driver and photographer, and they don’t count) and dressed to the nines, and it just made the perfect day that we shared with family and loved ones even more perfect.  I often suggest to engaged couples (who don’t even ask my opinion, can you imagine?) that they should sneak a solo photo session in.  They’ll probably rarely look at those albums they’re planning to fill with photos of their ushers and bridesmaids, but the memory of that sweet, calm, eye-of-the-hurricane hour alone will be a lasting, meaningful, memory.

My worst memory ever: hearing a crash upstairs, running up to investigate, looking in Maddie’s room and finding it empty with her bedroom window open with no screen. That’s it, that’s all I can tell you. I don’t like to think past there too much.

And finally, do you know those times you crack up when you shouldn’t?  Like maybe during church or during a funeral (Chuckles the Clown, anyone?)  One time when I was in my twenties or so, my mom and I and one of her friends went to the Lebanon County Playhouse to see a play.  I don’t remember what the play was, but at one point, there was a fake gunshot that was part of the storyline, and the sound of the shot made the man right behind us scream out.  That struck us as funny, so now, in the middle of a silent, serious death scene, the three of us were shaking and giggling and struggling to regain control of ourselves.  Things would calm down. But then, one of us would start to titter again, and that would make all of us titter.  And then control would be regained.  And then someone would mentally recall the gunshot and the scream and try to stifle a snort, which would make the other two snort too.  Oh my heavens.  If I were a teenager, I’d have been embarrassed, but luckily, I wasn’t and I appreciated my mom’s sense of humor and ability to laugh and not be an old stick in the mud. 

That’s it…thanks for walking down Memory Lane with me!

Watermelon Lime Sorbet

Have you ever made sorbet?  It’s easy, delicious, and basically frozen fruit, so pretty darn healthy too. 

I made Black Raspberry Sorbet, which was delicious,  a few summers ago.  You can find the link on the right under my recipes.  I was really looking forward to this one though, because watermelon is my absolute favorite summer fruit!  Before you do anything else, make a simple syrup (in recipe below) and put it into the fridge to cool.  Next, cut a watermelon into chunks, and squeeze a lime or two onto them.

Pulse the watermelon chunks/lime in a blender or food processor until smooth and then push it all through a strainer to strain out the seeds.

Mix in your cooled simple syrup and either freeze in a shallow pan and stir occasionally or freeze it in your ice cream maker.  We used the ice cream maker and it turned out great.

This was so refreshing!  I only used one lime, though, and wish I had used two.  There really wasn’t much lime flavor at all, however it was still very yummy and cool and a total hit with everyone.

 

Watermelon Lime Sorbet

1/2 c. sugar

3/4 c. water

6-8 cups watermelon chunks

2 limes

~Make a simple syrup by mixing together the water and sugar over medium heat until it boils.  Reduce heat and simmer for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.  Cool in fridge while you prepare the watermelon.

~Cut watermelon into chunks, and squeeze 2 limes over them.  Pulse in food processor until smooth.

~Strain watermelon to remove seeds.

~Mix in the cooled simple syrup and either freeze mixture in the freezer, stirring every 20 minutes until frozen, or freeze in ice cream maker according to manufacturer’s suggestion (ours took about 30 minutes.)

Old Treasures

I was at my friend Dana’s house recently when I noticed an old photo she had framed in her dining room.  I love old photos, and by old I mean the sepia or black-and-whites of 60 plus years ago.  There’s something to be said for those faded, pinkish brown photos of the seventies and polaroid shots too, but I really love the antiques.  Why is everyone so grim?  Why didn’t they smile? 

The photo in Dana’s dining room showed four children, ranging in age from about 10 to a baby, who was sitting on the lap of the oldest child.  I remarked to Dana that I loved old photos like this one and she told me the story behind it.  Apparently, her grandmother was one of the girls in the photo, and the four children were having their picture taken because their father had died, and their mother was sickly and couldn’t take care of them anymore.  The only boy was being taken in by family, but the three girls were being sent to an orphanage.  The photo was taken so the mother would be able to remember her children!

I guess I know why the faces of those children were so grim.

And then I read a post Mark wrote about his family, and I enjoyed reading about these old people I didn’t even know and I thought, “The next time I don’t know what to write I’ll tell you a little about my family using some old photos”.  You can guess that an alternate title for this post could be “Nothing to Write About!”  I don’t have a lot of old family photos, unfortunately.  I’ll have to go digging at my mom’s house sometime.

First up, here is a picture of my Grammy and Pappy, my dad’s parents. 

I knew my dad’s parent’s best because my mom’s mother died when I was 4, and her dad remarried fairly quickly after that (men of those days needed a wife to take care of things, I think) and moved to the new wife’s home in Baltimore.  My Grammy and Pappy lived 5 minutes away, and it was Family Central for picnics, parties, game nights, and babysitting.  I have really happy memories of my Gram and Pap and knew every inch of their house.  They had a secret room behind their bedroom closet (really, now that I think about it, it must have just been an access area for the bathroom pipes) and they had a hole in their kitchen ceiling that looked up into one of the bedrooms.  The hole had a grate over it, and we spent a lot of time talking back and forth through it or throwing things down through it.  They also had a blackboard in their hallway for the grandkids.  That’s normal nowadays, but back then it was unusual and awesome!  There were always a ton of cousins running around and they had an apple orchard and grapes and sour cherries on their property and train tracks that we could walk on right next to their house and a tire swing tied to a very high branch and there was always singing and fun and good food.  I don’t know what’s going on in that photo above.  I always thought it looked like Pap was about to propose to Grammy, or maybe he was trying to get her to dance, but unfortunately, neither of them are around for me to ask anymore.  I really miss those days.

Moving along to my mom, pictured below in a photo given to her from the newspaper photographer who took it.

Mom (the tall one on the right) and the other children were dressed up for a Dress Up Parade at the Meadowbank (my Dutchy mom pronounces it “metabank”) Playground.  My mom tells me that in those days, local playgrounds had playground directors and you could go to the playground all summer for activities all day long.  A bell would ring in the morning letting all the children know the director was there, and they would run to the playground and play games and do crafts and play.  At noon the bell would ring and the children would go home for lunch until the bell rang again letting the children know they could return.  They had evening dances and parades and contests galore and my mom entered everything she could because the prizes were good, like paint boxes and silver dollars.

Here is my dad in high school.  He was (and still is) a great trombonist.  He made it all the way to state band at one point, and this was in the days when concert and marching bands numbered in the hundreds, not the wimpy 30 member bands we see nowadays.  The Lebanon High School Marching Band was so good, according to my dad, that they were invited to march and compete in the Mason City, Iowa band competition held to celebrate the opening of The Music Man movie.  This was a big deal.  Bands didn’t take yearly trips then like they do now, and there was a lot of fundraising to get those kids uniforms (dad was so proud of his) and get them to Iowa.   Their director, R. Lesley Saunders, actually marched the route and counted out the song they’d be playing in his head ahead of time so that he could have the band arriving at the judges’ stand at the exact right moment so that the march they were playing would explode in the judges’ ears.  The band placed third, which was excellent, and much of the city of Lebanon showed up at two in the morning to welcome the band home.  Mom still gets choked up when she tells about the tired and surprised band members getting off the buses to cheers from the very proud and excited crowd. 

The photo above was taken on Easter of 1964 when my parents were engaged.  They would be married about 3 months later. My mom was so proud of her outfit.  She bought it at Tillie Spangler’s, a very expensive and exclusive shop in downtown Lebanon, certainly not the type of place my mom would have normally frequented.  The color of her suit was a light aqua and was a nubby sort of fabric, and that’s a little dickie across the opening of the suit (do you remember dickies?  And bodysuits?) and her purse and shoes were light pink.   I wish I had that purse.  The photo was taken at my Grammy and Pappy’s house and you can see the apple trees around them.


The photo above was taken at the Pensacola Fair.  Dad was in the Navy and stationed in Pensacola, FL at the time.  Dad remembers this as the best time of his life.  They did a lot of scuba diving and my dad played in a band at Rosie O’Grady’s, a local nightclub-type place (when he wasn’t in uniform defending our country).  He was also in the Navy Band, and very proud of that fact.  Mom is pregnant with me in the photo.  She would be about 23 and he was probably 22.  I was born in Pensacola, and the horror stories my mom tells about the Naval Hospital prenatal care are pretty funny (they had a “fat ward” for pregnant mothers who gained weight too quickly…they’d be sent there to stay until they lost weight!  Mom weighed less after I was born than before she got pregnant.)


This is my favorite  baby picture of me.  I love my diaper sticking out of the bottom of my dress, and the sweet little ring on my finger, and the fact that they didn’t wait for me to smile.  I  also like the thick, textured paper it was printed on.

Moving on to a Polaroid!

My best friend Jenny is pulling my hair through little holes in the cap on my head.  Then she applied hair color to “frost” the hairs sticking out of the cap.  This was horrible.  It was so painful because my hair was all tangled under the cap (I have very long, thick hair here) and the hair had to be coaxed and pulled out of those little holes.  Jenny looks like she’s having fun tormenting me and I look ready to bolt.

And finally, a modern photo of two antiques:

We are in Cape May just a few months before we got engaged.   Look how nice my nails look!  I used to get manicures every two weeks.   And look how thin we were.  And young.  Happy Anniversary to us, by the way, last week it was Fourteen Years of Mostly Wedded Bliss!

Thanks for taking a little walk through pictorial history with me.  I hope it wasn’t as painful as a Frosting Cap Maneuver, which trust me, is pretty darn bad.

Busy Weekend

Last weekend was one of those weekends that sent Dave to bed early.  See, I’m used to all the activity and noise and bad manners and unexplained odors and foul language (kidding!) (well, mostly kidding---Jack’s been saying DANG! a lot), but when one is locked in a calm, quiet, nice smelling office all week, well, you might just need a little time out every now and then.  But this weekend was short on time outs. 

I already told you about our Scout cookout on Friday night, but I didn’t tell you about what happened when we got home.

All week, Jack had come home from camp begging us to let him buy a carving kit from the camp’s Trading Post.  By Friday, he had worn us down, and he came home with a small carving knife and four pieces of balsa wood.  Dave discussed rules with him, like, “This knife is used only for carving and only in the presence of mommy or daddy” etc.  And then he and Dave sat together to do some whittlin’.

Jack was very excited! At one point Dave got up and came inside to use the bathroom.  Knowing Dave, I’m positive he left Jack with strict instructions to wait to carve until he came back.  But before Dave was even out of the bathroom, Jack was back in the house crying. He had cut himself, and pretty deeply, enough that Dave made a run to the drugstore for some butterfly clips.  Even though they didn’t carve again that night (since Jack had not listened) and even though his thumb was throbbing, Jack begged and begged to be allowed to finish his carving. 

He and Dave finished it the next night:

                                                                He used his own blood to color the necktie! 

The Carving Master is currently in the brainstorming process for a new whittling project, but I think this one is going to be pretty hard to top.

On Saturday we headed to the State Track Meet in State College.  Maddie’s relay team was there to run the 4x100 in 105 degree weather.  We stayed in the shade as much as we could and we drank all afternoon and hardly needed to pee, since we sweated everything out.  Was that too much information?

Maddie hands off the baton to Amelia.

Beaver Stadium in the background.

Camryn, Amelia, Ashton, and Maddie                                                                                    Maddie with Coach Bill

They came in 2nd Place, shaving 2 seconds off their fastest time and missing First Place by less than a tenth of a second!  We were very proud of these speedy girls!  Afterwards, we went to The Creamery for the hugest ice cream cones ever:

FYI, Butter Pecan is the ice cream flavor choice of champions.

On the way home, I decided I might need to invest in actual full time (not just reading) glasses.   The first time we passed the sign below (when it announced the exit in one mile), I thought it said Old Fart.

Old Fart.  My home sweet home.

Sunday gave us a little bit of a break, although I decided to invite some kids over to play with my kids, so we ended up with a houseful of kids (seven to be exact) and that’s when Dave wisely took a little nap upstairs.  Behind a locked door, I believe.

By evening, only one of those extra kids was left (Kelsey on the left in the photo above) who was staying for a sleepover with Maddie.  We decided it would be fun to break out the sparklers! 

UNFORTUNATELY, the ground was too dry and the grass caught on fire!

That’s Dave running with a bucket of water to put out the fire.  I am helping by taking a picture of it all.

What lessons have we learned this weekend?

1)  Fingers are good things.  Don’t cut them off.

2)  Old Fart is a funny name for a town.  Old Fort is a boring name for a town.

3)  A burning lawn makes for an awesome photo opportunity.

4)  Children are mentally and physically tiring.

P.S.  Dave decided to “take a business trip” this week.  I wonder if he is giggling maniacally in his quiet hotel room right now.

My Scout

Last week Jack went to Cub Scout camp.  He loved it with all his heart and soul and being, from the tippy top of his crazy Alfalfa hair to the bottom of his stinky piggy toes.

They did archery and shot bb guns and went hiking and swimming and rode in paddleboats and did BMX biking and played games and did crafts.  He didn’t even mind the 90-100 degree heat that plagued the camp last week.  The lunches were the BEST!  They knew how to make a mean PB&J sandwich and there was a salad bar and he could go back for seconds on anything as many times as he wanted.  He came home every day absolutely filthy, covered in dirt and food and paint and bug guts and more dirt, and if that’s not a sign of a good time, I don’t know what is.

photo courtesy of Shay’s mom, Jill (you’ll meet Shay down a few pictures)
The last day of camp, families were invited to join the campers for a cookout.  Do you remember last Friday?  Last Friday of the 100+ degree heat? 

We arrived as evening color ceremony was taking place.

The bugler played the National Anthem, and then invited us into the pavilion for our meal, which was luckily not around a campfire!

That’s Jack’s good buddy Shay behind him and that is a half a chicken on his plate!  Two bites into the chicken, Jack noticed that there were some leftover PB&J’s wrapped up on the table behind him.  He grabbed one, and ate that instead of that gorgeous chicken, can you believe it?  He gave me a bite to try, because he wanted to share the PB&J joy with me, and I thought it tasted a little stale and not nearly as good as my own amazing PB&J’s at home, but I told him it was delicious.

After dinner, the kids put on skits for us!

And even the counselors put on a skit.

And then it was time to go. The counselors line up to do a High Five Tunnel with the boys.  I looked at Jack as we started to get in line for our turn to high five the counselors and realized that he was holding back tears.  He turned to me and stuck his head in my shirt and started to cry.  He didn’t want camp to end.  But he high-fived the counselors through his tears.

I tried getting a shot of Jack and Shay before we left, and Jack has stopped crying, but is giving me his “I’m only smiling to be nice” smile.



He was really just so sad.  He cannot wait for camp next summer.  He cried for the first couple of minutes on our gorgeous drive home.

And then Dave remembered the Radio Game. 

Mm-hmmm.  That’s the way to work the radio.

You turn down the volume on the radio, someone asks a random question (“What will I eat for breakfast tomorrow?”) and then turn up the volume to hear the answer.  Sometimes the answer is a bomb (“1-800-555-7711”) but sometimes the answer is hilarious (“bugs, bats, and rats”)  and that cheered Jack right up.

Before camp, Jack had decided to quit Scouts this coming year, but camp has changed his mind, and he will be rejoining again this fall.  He’s only joining again so he can go to camp though.  He wants to make that point clear.

Scout camp rocks!