Friday, July 13, 2018

Happier Camper

When I was a kid, I enjoyed a good day at camp. I still do, but my methods of relaxing and enjoying myself have certainly taken a turn to more those of a landlubber. There is now a constant quest for shade, sunscreen and decent snacks. The other day I was watching folks splash about in the water, and began to ponder why I was content on my perch. I suspected it had something to do with the effort it seemed it would take to put on a bathing suit, actually get wet, and then have to go through the arduous task of towel drying and putting dry clothes back on.

The water called much louder when I was younger. Was it the wooden raft my grandfather made that oozed a fine sap every season? It was difficult to wash from our hands and nearly impossible to remove from our bathing suits? Maybe the lack of water shoes back then and how I could cut my feet on the mysterious treasures hiding in the sand was enticing. There were those dark black inner tubes whose scalding hot surfaces were so irresistible. Yes, the plan of attack was to flop one side down on the water and then flip the tube over to then lay atop the barely cooled off side - of course this had to be done while trying to avoid being impaled by the inflation valve. Was it the thrill of not knowing when the wooden dock might throw a sliver? So many possibilities.

There was no hot water out at camp back then, let alone a shower, so sometimes a bar of soap, tube of Prell and the lake were how hygiene happened. It. Was. Fantastic. Every bit of it, every summer. What happened? The seaweed is no more gross now than it ever was. Is there really just too much thought, on my part, being put into something that should require little to no thought? Should content always be satisfying enough? What happened to that girl who always ended up in the water due to enthusiasm or clumsiness? This week brought frustrations large and small, and I just wanted to feel something different. As soon as my husband came home, I told him I wanted to go jump in the lake. (Camp is only two miles from our house - literally.) He offered to take some one does when approached with such a greeting. I figured there was just one thing I needed, aside from a towel.
Beyond that, I didn't really want to think.
I just wanted to let it go.

Please note: If I had thought, I might have realized that the cape was going to end up trying to suction itself to my face. I also felt a little blousy and didn't really stay in long enough, so...

Tuesday, June 19, 2018

Return of the Random

It sure is dusty here, and so many cobwebs! Let's see if we can spruce up the place a little. No, obviously I don't have a new header or fancy graphic for Tuesdays, nothing that crazy, but maybe some words and photos thrown around will work. At the very least, I can clear up some storage space on my phone. I do appear to be at the correct location...
Oh, now I definitely know this is the right spot, but what is going on here...

 ...creepy monkeys have added sloths to their band of finger grabbing monsters! Yikes! 

Here is something that you might be relieved to know...

 ...unless you weren't part of that "popular demand". Maybe you were concerned with other issues... need to say specifically what every one of them was. Have you been trying to cut down on the amount of paper used, by emailing people? Have you then been trying to find the perfect paper to print out those emails on?
 "Ideal", or kind of dum?
Every single one of these flavors makes me want a lollipop less, but the actual item they claim to mimic the flavor of far more! (Plus, cream soda dum-dums rule!) In other candy identity crisis news...
 ...don't ask, because I don't know! In a complete departure from "sweet heat"... opposed to the name brand "Supremely Spicy" hummus, this one boasts to be "Significantly" so. It was far beyond that!

To wrap up this random, I have to share this photo of the women sitting near us at the Imagine Dragons concert.
Those are lyric sheets she is flipping through. Props to her for making the effort! It was an amazing night.

Tuesday, May 29, 2018

Random recall

As I stepped out onto our back deck, the sweet familiar scent wafted by. My iris friends had most certainly arrived for their annual spring visit. I followed the scent like I always do because I still marvel at these flowers as much as I did when I was a kid. How do they open from those buds into something so delicate? If you are a botanist and know the actual answer, don't tell me because we all need to keep a little magic in our lives.
Apparently some bees thought this patch needed some plain green mixed in
My great-grandmother had iris with variegated leaves in the beautiful gardens that lined her driveway. I am guessing she tended to her flowers with far less complaint than I manage to. Rhizomes were shared and made their way to my grandparents' garden where they were eventually divided. Some tubers were planted at my mother's, and then traveled to join my weeds. My landscaping (and I use that term loosely) does not have quite the same panache as the beds these iris inhabited before. I admit that as much as flowers fascinate me, I do not really like to garden. I want to have all of the flowers, but don't enjoy the heat, allergies and weed patrol.
My grandmother used to "let" me help her weed her garden. She made it look like something a seven year old should want to partake in. Gloves and tools? Sign me up! I know she often regretted her decision because I did not perform the task up to her standards. Was this story going somewhere? Why yes, I believe it was. As I inhaled the irises, I was reminded of the time my grandmother asked me what my favorite smelling flower was, as we were out working in the soil. Without needing time to think, I told her it was the iris. Her response was kind of an abrupt "Really? I didn't know they had any smell to them." I stood my ground, as I often did, despite her doubt.
These types of stories about conversations with my grandmother used to bother me, a sort of indication that we struggled to relate to one another, or argued about who was right. I really wanted to be "right" one day. Certainly the time would come for me to show her. These tales have lasted through the years, but have taken on much more of an endearing quality. They are just part of our history...our very rich history.

Tuesday, May 15, 2018

Honest random

The songs may have finally left my head, but shhhhhh...they could come back at any moment. In fact there is a mix tape clamoring to be written about - in due time my eighties friend. 

What has been going on, and how have I been keeping busy trying to ward off the "holy crap my daughter is graduating in less than six weeks" spiral of anxiety? Well, I did a little waiting room material reading...
Maybe the honesty about the herpes is easier to take than the "physically fit" request?

I went to pick up my son at college for summer break, and apparently arrived just in time, as this is what their sustenance was deteriorating to...
Enough with your identity crisis, Oreo...enough!

Here is one from an on the road scout...
So are they residential plumbers, or is that a mobile gastroenterologist unit? A porto-potty for butt-clenched drivers? Such possibility!

Sunday, May 13, 2018

Happy Mother's Day!

There is no rhyme nor reason these days to what I manage to find time to do. Twenty-six posts in the thirty day month of April? Sure, no problem. A simple check in post during any of the first twelve days of May? And interrupt the clutter I have been creating in an attempt to get organized and decrease clutter? Absolutely not apparently. Luckily something important has come along to snap me back to my senses.
Happy Mother's Day!
Now I will admit that my quest for the annual photo to honor my mom opens a bit of a Pandora's box. I can never go into the photo land bin with any level of discipline and focus on the project at hand. I had to send one group text with a couple of photos crying to be shared, then a couple of others chimed in to be sent to another group. I also approach the task with what seem like reasonable expectations, visualizing the exact photo I want, but with no sense of where I saw it last. My haphazard searching just brings me to more photos I have to pay adequate attention to, daydreaming when necessary.

I was looking for a picnic scene with matching blue floral sundresses, but found the perfect substitution that still highlights our penchant for wearing coordinated outfits. I used to feel so special when we went to the fabric store as I had the rockstar mom who was going to make me a new outfit with whatever fabric I chose was gently guided towards. (My outstanding choice in footwear is once again on display as well. Please also take note of my stick pin accessory.)
If you find yourself baffled by what to do with your hands when posing for photos, might we suggest a stuffed animal to hold. Dogs are a nice choice. How are those gently cascading bangs falling into my right eye not driving me insane?!
Mom, you look younger now than whoever that woman is posing as you in the second picture! Can you imagine how many photos of ourselves we would have if selfies had been a thing back then?
Do we enjoy the exercise as much as the fashion and photo ops?

Monday, April 30, 2018

Z is for...

Zoo Station...U2, 1991

Trying to recapture part of the soundtrack from my life during the 90's is my theme for the a-z challenge this year

Here we are! I had heard the hits by U2, but never looked much beyond those. Achtung Baby was released the fall after I graduated from college, and I was instantly in love. It was the first album of theirs that I actually owned, playing the CD on a seemingly endless loop. Are you ready?

Thank you for singing along with me this April!

Sunday, April 29, 2018

Y is for...

You Oughta Know...Alanis Morissette, 1995

Trying to recapture part of the soundtrack from my life during the 90's is my theme for the a-z challenge this year

Where was Alanis in the eighties, or at least earlier in the nineties, during my peak break up years? I was planning my wedding by the time she busted out her Jagged Little Pill. It was odd to be filled with an almost nostalgia for broken-hearted days. She just captured it all so completely - angst, hurt, anger and a healthy dose of crass.