The Golden Isles -- The Silver Year

Next month Hubs and I celebrate our Silver Anniversary.  A few years ago Hubs would ask me, "What are we going to do for our 25 year anniversary?"  And I would say I didn't know, but I knew I really didn't want to go somewhere and stay in a hotel and spend lots of money.  When you get as old as I am you really do know who you are and for this anniversary we are going to do what we loved to do during those first early years together--and that is to go on a road trip and camp, alone with no kids.

The Golden Isles off the coast of Georgia are undeveloped, understated and quiet.  We are going to Cumberland Island, somewhere I've wanted to go for awhile, a place only accessible by ferry or private boat, maintained as a National Park and limits the number of people who can visit in a day (300).  Most people take the 45 minute ferry ride for a day trip and only 60 are able to camp there at night.

Beyond the campground is a boardwalk to the beach.  You can rent bicycles and look at the ruins called Dungeness built by the Carnegie family in the 1800's but burned in 1959.  It had 6-foot thick walls and 16 fireplaces:

It is 17 miles long with no cars, just wild horses.

We bought a two-person tent since the large one we took on our road trip across the country this past summer is too big and the  mats we used to sleep on when we were in our 20's have been replaced by a queen-sized blow up mattress.  You can bring as much as you want on the ferry and carts are provided to get the gear from the dock to the campground.  Reservations were made almost 6 months ago.  At first we thought we would go in April, closer to our actual anniversary, but it was booked six months ago and we were happy with a weekend in March--thinking it would be cooler.  It's been summer-time hot in Georgia so it may be sticky, and it may be rainy but it is going to be very special.

We have farmed the three boys out to three different families, and for Youngest son I also coordinated an additional family to  pick him up from original family to take him to his flag football game.  I have been feeling a little off-kilter the past couple of days due to what this flag football mom said to me the other day.  When she heard that we were going camping for our big anniversary she asked all wide-eyed, "Is this something that You want to do?"  And I said yes.  Then after the game this past weekend, I told the group of a couple other moms and dads there we know that we wouldn't see them next week but that Youngest would be there, and a couple of them asked what we were doing.  When we told them another mom made a similar comment and the dads were kind of staring at us and one of them told us how the boy scouts go there on a camping trip (not him and his son--perhaps older boys).  These three other boys are cub scouts (my son is not) and the annual routine is the camp at nearby places and it is a dad thing and the women do not go and are glad they do not.

Later that night I was telling Hubs that I felt like I was very different, like an oddball.  He said it is just because of the boyscouts that it has played out in those families that camping is a dad and son thing.  Maybe in looking at me, people who do not really know me think I am prim and proper.  When Hubs and I first married, one of his brothers and his wife invited us to go to a very quiet, understated island in the Bahamas where you bring much of your own food, do your own cooking, etc., and they seemed to have to make it clear to me that it is not a place for blowdryers.  I realized he didn't know me well because I went with the more primitive flow even better than Hubs (and I use the blowdryer infrequently).

It has affected me a little bit these past couple days that I guess it sounded strange to these other women that we are having a very low cost, camping anniversary for our 25th.  But today I am over it, and excited about us continuing our long ago tradition of a road trip with new discoveries.

For other spins on the Road Trip, visit Gretchen.

It's the Full Worm Moon Tonight

Now technically the moon is at its fullest early Thursday morning but in the nighttime sky be sure to check it out tonight.  That fourth rock from the sun, Mars, will be at its brightest in several years so look for the reddish star to the left of the full moon tonight.

One of the names given to the moon in March by the first inhabitants of this continent is the "Worm Moon" because this month the worms are active under the soil, getting the earth ready for spring planting.  I am always amazed when I dig into my vegetable beds how many worms I see.  So worms, please continue to do your thing with your diet of dirt.  I'll be seeing you next month!

Speaking of eating (I know, what a segue) my 10th grade son is really into eating healthy these days.  I should emulate him as he no longer eats any desserts and has become a huge fan of smoothies.  He is also very interested in what I plan for dinner.  I make dinner just about every night and over the years I've noticed he enjoys it when I put a menu on the refrigerator.  After being at school for 11 hours due to baseball practice or home after 14 hours due to a weeknight baseball game, dinner-- at no matter what time and salad are a highlight.  Way different than when he was a little boy.  Here was last week's menu:

I used to make the spinach shells a lot pre-kids and they would have gagged on them as young kids and I have re-introduced them recently and they love them.  Also, I buy a bag of frozen shrimp every week and this year the jambalaya is a new dinner I make and you should see their eyes light up when they know it's on the menu.

And for breakfast there is still this pantry scene:

A couple weeks ago Hubs did the Target shopping and came home with a slim supply of non-fave cereal and they were not thrilled.

Speaking of Hubs, he leads the line of this feeding frenzy that occurs when after work/school everyone comes into the kitchen ravenous.  He comes home after having a well-rounded lunch made by yours truly every single day...and goes crazy.  He essentially consumes an entire meal before dinner, if dinner is not ready at 5:30 or even 5:00.  On Monday there were two large pancakes on a plate in the fridge--a leftover from Sunday a.m. He comes home and I'm in the kitchen finishing dinner and the next thing I know this is on the plate:

In between the pancakes is deli ham and each pancake is slathered with Miracle Whip.  The rest of us were grossed out.  On the other hand I love a Monte Cristo sandwich so I guess this is a pancake re-make instead of French Toast version and minus the jam for dipping.  (And the counters are clean every day but get trashed with spills within 60 seconds of their arrival home).  And now for past two days he is complaining that his stomach is "off".

I Am No Longer Holding Court for Workmen Upstairs

Since I work at home somehow I end up being the one to receive and chat with workmen at our home.  The latest research is getting quotes to replace our AC and system so that we no longer have to look at summer power bills for $550 per month.

Today I did the usual leading around and chatting with a contractor on all three floors of the house.  We were on the top floor in a hallway with the light on and on the walls we have photos.  One of them is a large photo portrait of me taken when I was 18 years old.  My mother passed the portrait along to me when I was about 30 and I kept it in a closet.  Then a little over 10 years later I brought it out and have hung it ever since.

In the hallway today after we finished discussing heat and AC systems, the contractor looked at the portrait then at me and asked if that was my daughter.  Hmmmmph.  Guess there is no resemblance any longer. 

And now it is five o'clock and I just may make my no longer young and recognizable self a margarita to go along with my practical Mexican crockpot chicken.  Have a great Friday night!

I Miss Little League

It is just about 8:30 p.m. on a weeknight.  My 10th grade son is not home from school yet. He left the house at 6:25 a.m. as usual.  He has had no dinner.  Mama's mad.  Dad is too.  The baseball coaches will probably have never had a parent speak to them (two in particular) like I imagine will happen at a meeting soon.

It is high school baseball season and the coaches are a piece of work.  We are just finding out that a coach texts the boys at 7:00 a.m. each day to let them know if they have practice right after school at 2:30, or if it is the occasional late practice at 4:30, which ends at 6:45.  A few of us moms pick up our three sons via a carpool schedule when they call. 

These boys don't drive themselves home--I think the coach forgets the boys don't have their own cars -- or they are just plain rude to parents.   At 6:30 tonight I got a text from the mom who is carpooling today that she stopped by after wondering why she hadn't yet heard from her son and that is when she saw there was a scrimmage game.  There is absolutely no communication to the parents (unless it is asking for sponsor money or to help clean the field together--no coaches help clean it).

Some parents have told us they don't want to talk to the coaches about their concerns because the coaches may "bench" their son.  I think we are past that worry point.  I think the coaches really have some balls.



There will be night games when the season gets started shortly but there is a printed schedule for that so we can all plan.  And I'll know he has had dinner.

Going to the Movies in the 1970's

In the spirit of the Academy Awards this Sunday, Gretchen is hosting a Spin Cycle with "movies" as the theme.

I tell my boys that when I was around 10 or 11 in the 1970's I'd ride my bike or walk to a local movie theater either by myself or with friends.  They cannot believe that sometimes it was a double feature.  As if I'd ever have my 10 year old at the movies alone now for 4 or 5 hours......

I remember sneaking in my Panasonic tape recorder, with a sweater draped over it.  It looked just like this:

(when I Googled this image I found it on a site that was selling it as a "vintage Panasonic tape recorder)

I recall bringing in my tape recorder when I went to see the Wizard of Oz and The Sound of Music separately.  Again, the boys are amazed that those movies played in the theater.  When the songs began during the movie, I'd record them.  Back at home I'd play them over and over, even writing down the words to the Scarecrow and the Tin Man's solos.  That is why almost 40 years later I know those words.

When I was in the 11th grade I started working at the movie theater--located in Westwood Village, CA near UCLA.  My brother had worked there previously and was friends with the manager and got me the job.  I'd work usually Friday nights and Sundays.  It was a great first job experience--I enjoyed it so much--I'd either sell tickets or be at the concession stand.  I remember sometimes the owner--Ted Mann--would come in and we'd be prepared to offer him what he wanted to eat.  He'd stand there and reach his hand right down into the popcorn bin and scoop out some and eat it.

We would of course watch movies over and over -- during our break with food from nearby, or after work and we'd get free passes to all the 4 or 5 other single theaters in the area.  I also worked there the summers after my first two years of college in California.  I remember once Tatum O'Neal coming with a friend to see her own movie, "Little Darlings" (I thought that was strange).  What is also remarkable is that it was filmed near Atlanta, to where I would then move--about three years later.  For some reason that movie was never released on dvd, but years later I consider it one of the most poignant movies ever.

(I love the clip best from about 1:20 seconds in.  No one again is as natural looking ast Kristy McNichol, whose smile can light up the whole screen).

What The Boys Are Reading

There have been conversations around here this week with each son about books so I thought I'd share.

My Fifth Grader--
I am going to sound like a broken record about my hatred of Accelerated Reader (AR) but it just astounds me.  This son is a stellar student and yet his teachers bug him about reading certain books.  I read to him every night (with a Mad Lib and a Picture Puzzle book thrown in) and he always has a book in his 30 lb backpack.  The school just had its book fair and he bought two books and was pretty excited about one called The Whisper, which is a continuation of one called The Roar by Emma Clayton (bought at last spring's Book Fair).  They are about boy/girl twins and kids that have to compete in violent virtual reality games. Turns out that there is no Accelerated Reader (AR) quiz for these books.  (BTW I loved your previous comments on AR reading and quizzes).  In class the other day his teacher (he has several and she teachers "gifted" language arts and math) suggested that he finish the media center book (which is AR) before starting the new book he just bought.

Here is what I have to say about that:

Tonight at dinner I asked him if she said anything today about his new book.  I made sure Hubs was listening.  She told the class that if you don't make your AR points you will get an "N" on your report card and will be off the Gold or Silver honor roll.  Teacher conferences are coming up--fun times.  Read what you want, we tell him.  It pains me that we even have to have conversations like this with him.

Middle Son
He reads!  He reads!  I love to help this 8th grader find books--I am his personal library shopper just like I am the TJ Maxx clothes shopper for them.   Once I brought home a book from Goodwill that he has enjoyed--it is edited by Jon Scieszka called Guys Write for Guys Read -- short stories by various favorite of boys' authors writing about being boys.  Another similarly edited is called: Guys Read: Funny Business.  Check out the Guys Read website with reading lists.  I really enjoyed watching these interview segments of the author--stories of growing up with 5 other brothers and antics at dinner table, being a male teacher, and more.  I really appreciated what he had to say about how boys like to read magazines and graphic novels and non-fiction and that's OK.


Oldest Son
AR points don't exist in high school--yay!  This 10th grader is our guinea pig--truly--he navigates his way and we learn along with him.  But about books--this boy does not read books.  In 9th grade he had to read books that were written so, so long ago like Silas Marner (snore) and Dickens.  I actually said to him to him once as he tried to write about them: Google ideas and notes--I don't care!

In the beginning of the month he had to choose a book from a long list.  Of course I found this out at the last minute which gave him 3 weeks to read a book but I took the list and crossed off every girly book and we went to Barnes & Noble and I put many, many in a pile and he flipped through them, made sure there was lots of conversation, read a few pages of each, put back the ones had too much scenery (Cormac McCarthy) and he picked a winner!!  (Tim O'Brien's) The Things They Carried, a combination of memoir, non-fiction and short story style about the Vietnam War.  He read it!  And enjoyed it!  And we just had another conversation just this second! He just said he has heard so much about other wars and not this one and learned a lot. Told me there were a lot of F-bombs in it.  After he picked it out I then remembered to tell my closest friend about what he chose--she teaches AP English in California--and I learned it is her favorite book and was part of her thesis.  Wow!

A Valentine's Day Story

This past Sunday Hubs wanted to browse around at a bike store and I joined him--that part bored me big time but I knew we'd also wander around a huge antique indoor market place, which we both love to do (a benefit of teen kids: both parents can go out together for several hours to pursue own errands).

On the way back home Hubs reminded me that a new Humane Society was somewhere nearby.  We have no pets, but before we got married I/we had a cat, which expanded to two cats and then later a dog and then another dog.  They all lived their long, geriatric lives and the last one left 7 years ago.  Recently in a local paper they featured a dog whose features were a striking cross of the two dogs we once had so I showed Hubs and he agreed and asked every day if I had called to see if that dog was still available--I did not.  But we were curious.  We really don't want a dog and trust me this is not s story of us getting a dog.  But if we did get a dog it would be from the humane society--many years ago that is where we found a wonderful best dog in the world.

We finally located this other humane society and looked at the dogs and a worker asked us if she could help and I asked about the dog we had seen in the paper and we were both happy to hear that the dog had been adopted.  So we were truly just spending time together and it was a nice reminder to see a little "softie" side of Hubs, the way he talked to the dogs and puppies.  He plays a really tough role but I have some incriminating photos of a cat we once had that lived and breathed for him alone.

As we were driving back home I started to chuckle about an episode that took place at the Humane Society in midtown Atlanta 26 years ago, the year before we were married.  I had moved to Atlanta by myself after I graduated, and he was still in school in Florida and he was visiting me in February.  We knew as soon as he graduated that coming May that he would move into my apt with me and we would begin to plan our wedding for the following year.  I had previously told him that what he needed to know about me to be happy is that I had to have a cat and I had to have a lot of books and reading time.  He was game.

So back in 1986 during a visit to me in Atlanta near Valentine's Day we went to the Humane Society and I found a cat I wanted.  We stood in line to adopt and the clerk was HORRIBLE.  We had observed him being rude to people with an ugly attitude.  When it was our turn for paperwork we found out that you had to prove you owned a home or if you rented (I had my own rental apt) he would call the leasing company to find out if pets were allowed.  He called and they were not allowed.  The rule is the rule (I get that) and he could have talked to us differently but he WAS AWFUL.  I started to cry and went to walk away.

Well.  Hubs let him have it.  He ranted about the man's attitude and treatment of customers and then yelled about "How NO ONE would love that cat MORE THAN ME and how this cat MAY DIE instead of being adopted." (there were some older ladies nearby who literally gasped at this part).  Hubs was livid.

(BTW I was on a mission to find a cat after this --sheesh there were no ads in the paper during that February--but then a coworker knew a friend who knew a friend whose cat had kittens and I picked one out and he was perfect for me so we have a happy ending, but who ever thought for a month or so how hard it was to get me a darn young cat or kitten).

Back to this past Sunday--when we got into the car on the way home I started to think about that Humane Society scene and thought about how my Hubs couldn't care less about cats but he knew how much I wanted one and he knew we'd be together soon to start our life together, and KNEW how much he loved me.  I said, "Do you remember that time at the Humane Society??!?  About the cat??!? "

And he said, "Yes, that man was such an asshole!"  I was smiling and thinking about this from so many years ago and how that was the beginning of our lives together, and how we started as parents to pets and then years later parents to-------  and he says,

"So you saw then a glimpse of years to come with my interactions with bad customer service!!!!"    Hmmmm, how true.  The stories I have of Hubs having words with a clerk and/or walking away from his purchase as needed........

Happy Valentine's Day and may your true love have your back always.