This is the week that will not end

Some weeks seem to go on forever in an idyllic onslaught of joy and adventure.

This is not one of those weeks. This week we're all on full throttle, but only half the cylinders are firing, so there are are lot of backfires and rough starts. It's crazy. We've been up and out the door early every morning this week, and that's starting to wear on our collective nerves. We'll have to be out the door early both mornings this weekend, too, and I suspect the boys are about to lobby for a Late Start Monday policy after weeks that carry this level of intensity. If they don't, I just might.

But it's all good stuff. Today was particularly fun: our local homeschool social group started back. It felt so good to get in there and *know* people, to see kids we haven't seen all Summer and spend time with friends we've seen just recently, to hear the plans for the coming months and get excited all over again about what we've got to look forward to. That part was awesome. Today, I felt like I was home, and remembered being new and feeling like an alien interloper every time I walked in to the meeting. It's good to be over that. It's good to be home.

And we have a lot of new families with teens, so that's also exciting. Except for the part where people seem to think I'm in charge of teen activities... which I'm not. Or, more accurately, I strive very hard not to be. I will continue to insist that I'm just inviting people to come do things we were going to do, anyway. The idea of giving the impression that I'm organized, or that any of our outings resemble anything other than relatively organic eruptions of activity in beautiful surroundings, is likely to leave people disappointed. But if they show up to hang out with friends, make new friends, and maybe see or do something interesting in the meantime, then yeah, I'm your gal. I hope the new families are very laid back and understanding. That would also be pretty fantastic!

Homer took off Tuesday to do... whatever it is cats do when they take off. I don't know. This is the first time he's done it, and he hasn't really told me much about his trip. Kerouac impressions? Do they find wild catnip and discarded absinthe bottles and channel their inner Hunter S. Thompson? Whatever it was (and based on his condition when he showed up this afternoon, I'm laying odds he could tell you stories about those bats), he is home. He's eaten an entire can of tuna and hasn't stopped purring and kneading the floor since he got in. He hobbles around like a 90yo after hip replacement surgery, and he with every step he gripes like a hungover co-ed: "Ow. Ugh. Ow. Damn. Ow. Oh, cold floor. Gah, I should have just peed in the closet."

Bless him for not peeing in my closet. And we're all really glad he's back. But dang if that wasn't the longest week of trying to be optimistic I think I've had in a while. I tried to keep it positive for the kids, but by this morning, they were looking at each other skeptically, as if to say, "Do you think we should tell her he's probably dead?" So, yay for having Homer Kitty home.

Z was on the road for work the first half of the week, but he got home a couple of days early. The littles made him a welcome home banner and hung it on the door. The boys refrained from watching shows they know Z would like to watch with them. I love that they notice his absence. I love that his presence makes such an impact on our home, and our lives. He is pretty much everything a family could want in a Dad. And he puts up with us and our weirdness - our wonky schedule, random animals, weird diet, non-stop talking. Yep, we're pretty fortunate.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

My Favorite Things

One of the best things about living in Northern Alabama is the ready access to water. My children think of this simply as "going outside to play". They have no idea why I get giddy every time I see water. (Yes, ten years of living here and it still thrills me. Every time.)

The weather has been lovely enough for water activity, and this is a little spot we found a few weeks back and just had to check out with our hiking group. What a pleasant surprise! The grounds are clean, the area is well-maintained, and although everyone had on shoes, nobody ran across stray glass or hooks. (Still, wear your shoes in the river, kids.)

There was a child on the rope when we snapped this shot. Kind of looks like the Kraken is emerging, there, though, doesn't it? Or diving. I promise it wasn't as creepy as it reads. Someone (either James or I) is slow on the trigger, and I have quite a few pictures very much like this - swaying rope, no child, churning water. We left with the same number of children we arrived with, however, and that wrapped up the first year of hiking group with a stellar record of no lost children and no ER visits directly related to the hikes!

Today, mid-way through what has turned out to be a particularly grueling week, I've found myself trying to figure out when we can slip away for another morning's play before the weather turns cool again. Just... one more... please? I'd bet the kids are up for it. We just have to convince the schedule to give a little.

Kiss those babies!

~Dy

As You Like It

Every year, I remember that Nashville has a Shakespeare in the Park performance. Usually, I remember this the week after the last performance. So this year, we invited friends (accountability), picked a date (procrastination), and we went! I am so glad we did.

It was absolutely fantastic. We took our blankets and spread out on the grass near the front of the stage. This is probably my favorite way to watch live theater, now. It was a long day, with the 2-hour drive each way, but that was made more fun with friends. It was, without a doubt, absolutely worth it, though.

Everything about this performance by the Nashville Shakespeare Festival was delightful and engaging, but one thing I hadn't thought about before hand was the music. This is *Nashville*! The music blew us all away. At first, we didn't think the actors on stage were singing live. It was too good. Then we realized that's exactly what they were doing. So that was like getting a whole other performance on top of the Shakespeare.

I would have better pictures, but they asked us not to take pictures during the performance (understandable), and we were just having too much fun visiting, watching, laughing, and eating during the time we could take photos.

Actually, most of the pictures I did get centered around the food. They had Thai, Egyptian, and BBQ. Oh, how much we spent trying a little of everything! I'm so glad my kids are adventurous eaters. And we do love some food truck food. (As an aside, anybody ever call them "roach coaches"? I get that that's considered derogatory, but we always meant it affectionately. I'm working very hard on not squealing with delight, "Oh! Let's see what's at the roach coach!" when we pull into a venue and see the trucks lined up. But I do still say it on the inside.)

So, yes, Mr. Shakespeare, we did like it. We liked it very much. From the atmosphere to the production to the food trucks, this was one of our favorite outings of 2014 so far.

Kiss those babies!

~Dy

Plan A, B, or C

Pick one, it's all good.

We had planned to go on a river float today but the river is too low, so that trip was canceled. While we all appreciate the safety aspect (and, truth be told, none of us was up for a 1.5 mile hike in the river...) we were a little disappointed. Not quite ice cream falling on the sidewalk disappointed, but close.

So we did something else!

Just because the water's too low to float down river doesn't mean it's too low to get wet and play and splash around, right? (Right!) It's about 8" deep in this pic below.

This was Jase's first river trip, so of course, it was awful. Until suddenly, it wasn't. I think he's starting to trust the process. (And just a heads up - he was not in danger, nor was he hurt or injured. He just doesn't like New Things. Ever. Once they're not New, they're fantastic, and he's quite the adventurer after he knows what to expect.)

He did go down the rapids (not Real Rapids, just shoals, really - and remember, the water was low). About halfway down, he panicked. He screamed like a yeti had hold of him and was chewing on this calf. Holy heck, that kid's got a set of lungs on him! He wasn't hurt. He wasn't stuck. He wasn't in danger. He was just afraid - and that warrants a rescue, because being afraid is Real. I floated over to him and scooped him up (where he proceeded to scream inmyface until we got to the calm water). I beached us and asked him if he'd like to climb into my float so we could have some snuggles (because those make everything better).

That's when we discovered I'd beached us in muck. Knee-deep muck. When it's disturbed, it smells like rotting trash. And when it swallows you to your thigh and starts stinking, well, that's when it's clearly time to start screaming bloody hell all over again. At least, that's how it goes if you're six.

I got us dislodged and back out into the current, got him calm and loved on, then we made a plan. And we did it. He walked back up the shoals, slowly, processing the whole thing aloud with every step. I held his hand, carried both tubes, and kept up a running stream of cheerleading and encouragement while trying not to slip since I didn't have a free hand and it's generally bad form to break your fall with the child. By the time we got to the top of the shoals, he was ready to try it again, this time on my lap.

Well, that was *great*, until my butt snagged on a rock and we flipped out of the tube. I don't know if ear drums can pucker, but if they can, mine did. I was braced for the panicked screaming and general freak out common to the timid child. But, no. I mean, he did yell, but he yelled,

"Don't panic! Nobody panic! We've got this."

And we did. We let the tube go (the teens were down at the next bit of shoals and we figured they'd grab it as it went by), got out of the water, and worked our way back to the beach head.

By the time we got back to the beach, he pronounced this day, "The best day, ever!" Which,when you're six, totally counts. He was ready "to go for a little swim", but to be honest, I needed a nap at that point.

Plans don't always go according to, you know, plan. But the day doesn't have to be a waste. We don't have to stay home because a trip is canceled. We don't have to get out of the water because something didn't pan out the way we expected it to. He's learning a lot. So am I.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

We're Almost Done... Peeling

Dang. We went on a float trip on Saturday. It was supposed to be a four hour float trip that included a stop mid-way for lunch and time to play in the water. How cool is that?

But the river was low.

It was so low that the trip took seven hours. Yikes!

Now, I'm not known for being the most prepared mom in the world on the best of days. Most of the time, we're just kind of winging it, glancing at one another to make sure we're all still upright. I figure if I account for food and hydration, and return with approximately the same number of children I left with, it was a good day. (We didn't even lose anyone to that man eating tree on the right!)

But that day, we had a friend's child with us. So I was on super good behavior. I made everyone spritz up with sunblock, reminded everyone to drink, reapplied sunblock just before we got in the river... man, I was rocking this responsibility thing!  We even remembered to wear sneakers to protect our feet (and, evidently, to host mayflies, which was a little weird, as they were rather distracted with mating and didn't seem to care what they landed on to do it).

Except... we were good for four hours of sun. Not seven.

And my friend had told me that she'd sprayed her son down very well. Since she's Super Responsible, I didn't make him re-do his before we got in the water. But she didn't expect that he'd take his swim shirt off, so she didn't do his back. And I didn't know that.

:hangs head in shame:

I BURNT SOMEONE ELSE'S CHILD!

Of course, the rest of us got fairly well toasted, too. So, you know, at least I'm liberally negligent.

Anyway, we have another float trip tomorrow. I bought more sunblock (higher SPF, too). And I bought two containers of it - one of them is going to live in my bag. It may take me until the last of my children is out of the house, but I WILL get the hang of this gig. I swear I will.

(And we did have a blast on this outing. Even with the burns and the occasional need to lift our floats and duck walk across the shoals. For which there are no pictures. Because I was waddling along with everyone else.)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Fourth, early

Our little town had its annual Independence Day celebration last night, so that's when we had friends over and cooked out. The Charter service man came to switch out our modem in the morning. Hopefully, that will reduce the amount of downtime our internet suffers. He was fantastic, Charter, we're not so thrilled with so far. Then we commenced the preparations for the party.

We could not have begged for better weather - sunny and bright, but breezy and comfortable. Wow. Just wow. Z rocked the asado action on the smoker, and I think if we hadn't had guests I'd have eaten the whole thing myself, keeping the kids at bay with a poky stick - so, unbelievably good! Thankfully, part of my filter is still in place and I didn't assault the guests. Or run cackling into the woods with the pan of asado.

The teens got restless about an hour before the fireworks began. They wanted to get down to the square while it was still light and see the sights. Since none of the adults were quite ready to roll yet, the boys asked if they could take their bikes. We have a million bikes, so there were plenty for everyone who wanted to ride, and off they went. I'm guessing they had fun. We put eyes on them when we arrived at the square an hour later, and everyone had shave ice and was laughing. No blood, no limping. We called it good. It was nice, though, to run into friends who volunteered that they'd seen the boys and spoken with them and were so glad to see them. I love it when people volunteer good things about teens. They get it, and they get the kids. That's good stuff, right there. The rest of us, big and little, were happy to take our time moseying about in the meantime.

The fireworks were, once again, absolutely spectacular. It's one of my favorite parts of living here. Well, the whole thing, really - the show is amazing, the people are sweet, the food is fantastic. It's a good combination.

After the show, everyone (plus a few we picked up at the square) came back to the house for a bonfire and to finish off the desserts. That was, quite possibly, the perfect ending to a lovely day.

Today, we laid around doing nothing. It was delicious. Jacob told me he really needed a full week of that, and then interrupted himself to add, "Oh, wait! You have Circe coming up, which means Dad will be watching us, and we'll have a week of doing nothing. Oh, that's perfect!" And off he ran to share his revelation with his siblings. Z grinned when I shared that story with him, but he didn't deny it. I guess Kinderspringa shall become a tradition. They could do worse, really.

Have a safe and thankful weekend!

Kiss those babies,
Dy

Seasons in the Sun

We're learning to love Summer. Just a little bit.

There's always something historic to see, like the Observation Tower at Mt. Cheaha, built by the CCC in 1934, and painstakingly maintained by a team so that it can remain open and accessible to the public today:

Or to find, like the wildlife hiding in plain sight...

Or do... like playing in the water. This is probably the thing I appreciate the very most about living in Alabama - the water. Every place has history. Not every place has water.

The kids don't really take this for granted - they pick up trash along the way, leave the area cleaner than we found it, and they're respectful of the terrain and the things that live here. But they have no idea how good they've got it - this is normal for them. How cool is that? I was 20 before I got to swim to the base of a waterfall.

Still can't identify most of the plants that catch my eye, but that won't stop me from trying. It's all about getting experience by continuing to try until you get it right.

And then we headed out, and up. Funny, it didn't seem very far on the way in...

(I wrote this several days ago, but didn't post it. No idea why, but I'm going to blame the heat. Or maybe old age - I think I went off on rabbit trails to identify that flower and then suddenly, they wanted food again. That happens more than I'd like to admit.)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

It's so hot

I'd promised Jacob I would bike with him to the post office today to pick up our local paper, as he's anxious to make sure we don't miss the 4th of July festivities on the courthouse square. Actually, I'd promised to do it yesterday, but by the time we finished picking blackberries, it was 97 degrees with 70-someodd percent humidity, and we were ready to eat blackberries and lay over the air vents. So we did.

This morning, the ride was on. I'm not convinced it was an improvement, though. Lord, it's hot. But he got his paper, and we got out there and moved. 3 miles! Woohoo!

(Why doesn't he look sweaty there? He was - we both were. It was hot. But it was fun.) Then he somehow convinced James to do it again (this time to the corner store) this afternoon. By the time James and I returned from a meeting tonight, Jacob was out cold. I guess it was a good day.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Starting to Feel It...

The heat, that is. It's been a wet, wet Spring, and that means 85 degrees feels significantly less do-able than 70 did. Stepping outside feels like a sort of sauna-meets-obstacle-course. Which is fine if you have athletic ability and... gills. For mere mortals, however, it's a little tricky.

Not stopping us, though!

This weekend was the annual Howard Hill Southern Traditional Archery Tournament. (This is commonly shortened to the "Howard Hill Shoot", and for the purposes of this post will be, "the shoot".) This shoot has been a dream of Z's for years. Back when we lived in the desert Southwest, it was one of those Someday things - too far away to be plausible for two broke kids, but cool enough to merit a standing spot on the list anyway. But now? Now we're less than two hours away from it!

And we all have bows again! So, of course we had to go! Ward came, and some other friends came. It was hot. It was humid. The sun shone, and the atmosphere was fun. The boys shot,

and shot...

Em and Jase hung in there for the whole trail (thank you, hiking group!),

...and I have clearly not lost the ability to laugh at myself.

Z was in his happy spot. It was a good day in our little world.

Oh! We got to see Byron Ferguson in action! AND we got to meet G. Fred Asbell! (If you're into traditional archery at all, you know why this is cool. If you're not, it's the equivalent of Classical homeschoolers getting to watch Andrew Kern lead a socratic discussion *and* visit with Martin Cothran. Very cool.) And, just like every time I get to see Kern and Cothran, I walked off yesterday in a happy haze without getting any pictures. But it happened. And it was awesome. Everyone's got next year's shoot penciled in.

Because of the rain, we didn't go down Friday, and had a spare day on our hands. The Huntsville and Madison Anime Convention (HAMACON) opened, so I took those who like it enough to spend their own money on admission, and we spent a surprisingly fun day at the convention center. Parent Passes are free, too! That was a pleasant bonus.

There was some incredible art, neat activities, special panels and discussions. There were also regular showings of interesting (either new, or particularly noteworthy, or unique) anime. The gentleman running the projector took the time to give introductions, insights, and some Q&A for the audience. We had fun. Nerdy, nerdy fun.

And, we got a cat. His name is Homer, in honor of the Homer Ball. He came home with the boys after a hike on Z's birthday.  (Z has never wanted a cat. Hence, the name.)

I think he's comfortable here.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Waterlogged

I had to go through my pictures to see what we've been up to this week, but after I looked at the pictures it all made sense: my brain is waterlogged. This has been a week of water, water, milkshakes, and water. We were invited to share Memorial Day with some special friends. We sat on the deck and visited while the children roasted themselves to a gentle crisp in the pool.

Immediately after that, we had to get a few bodies squared away on camp physicals and vaccinations. Milkshakes all around! We had one visit a day, all week. It was a long, long week. The boys are all quite philosophical about getting a shot. Jase is... not. Well, he may be, but he has a very different philosophy than the rest of them. If my mother were here, this would be the part where she'd smirk and whisper, "One just. like. you." But, we survived! And on we went...

Swimming with our homeschool group. The weather threatened mightily, and it scared off many of the people who'd planned to come, but those who came had a BLAST. We had an hour of clear weather on either side of a slight squall. When the rain did come, the rule was that as long as there's no lightning, they could stay in the water. And they did. We had to lure them out with food and previous obligations ticking away on the clock or they might have stayed until dark. It was a fantastic outing!

And Saturday, we got to join some friends and the Friends of the Locust Fork for their annual hike to Cornelius Falls. It's a fairly challenging hike, but entirely do-able. (Although the Littles stayed home with Dad, and that was a good call.) The payoff at the end of the trail is magnificent! We swam and played in the falls for an hour or so before heading back up the banks to go home. It was hard to leave. This is a seriously gorgeous little spot.

We've got our bags re-packed, our on-the-go food prepped, and we're ready to go back for more! For the first time in a long time, I can actually say I'm looking forward to Summer - good friends, beautiful country, and a willingness to explore - what more could we ask for?

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

A Little Service

The boys and I drove down to Cullman yesterday to help the VFW place flags on the graves of veterans for the coming Memorial Day observation. They had a lovely turn out of people from all seasons of life, and everyone was very thoughtful and respectful.

Cemeteries are a big thing here in the South. They have decoration days and walking tours. People make a point to visit them when driving to other places. It's definitely A Thing. I love the idea of it, but after two hours of reading each and every headstone in this cemetery (so that we did not miss any of the veterans, we read each one carefully), I don't know that I could do it as a past time or a hobby. The endless litany of the lost -- infant children, toddlers, mothers, fathers, siblings, soldiers... every headstone representing an entire home, sometimes an entire community, mourning and filled with sorrow... it's a crushing weight when focused.

And people get attached to their cemeteries, here. One kind lady we spoke with was telling us about the cemetery where her parents are buried, and how there are many unmarked graves from when workers would follow the saw mills for work. If someone in the family died while they were stationed here, they would, understandably, bury the person there locally. I thought it was the lack of marker identification that bothered her, but she wrapped up her story with, "And then, when the work moved on, they just up and went! And left 'em there!" As if that were the more incomprehensible option. Well, I guess to her, it was. I don't know if the boys caught that, but I had to suppress a smile.

But I do get it. The cemetery my father is buried in is behind one of the high schools I went to, and I would often wander over during my lunch hour to sit in the solitude to think and pray. There is a sense of connection in the individual. And we need to strive for a sense of connection to the whole, to every soul who shares this earth with us. But for me, the weight of loss in finding that connection at the cemetery is too much. I'll seek out connections among those who share the earth with us now, and try to make our involvement one that makes the story a person will have a better one. It won't show on a headstone, but it will show where it matters most, and that's okay.

Kiss those babies!
Dy

A Soggy Adventure With Good Company

That was pretty much the gist of our weekend. Since last year, when I first found out about it, I've been anxiously awaiting the return of the Chickamauga & Chattanooga Battlefield's once-a-month bike tour. Normally, you have to walk these tours. I don't mind walking. We hike every week. But I do have a little bit of a mental block about walking civil war battlefields. in the South. in the Summer. We did one once. It was horrific. The whole experience was just one of those things that'll be funny in ten years. (It hasn't been ten years yet, so I can't properly tell the story yet. Someday, it'll be hilarious, though.) And while I was certain it would be a completely different experience with a completely different group of people, well, it left a mark.

So I was anxious (really anxious) to rally up a new experience to wipe the RAM and re-set the whole memory bank. (Been talking with James a lot today.) I asked a friend if she thought her family would like to go, too. They said yes! WooHoo! (I love them.)

So, last weekend was the first one of the year, and we were ready to go! The kids and I got all the things squared away: tents, food, chairs, first aid kit... Z modified the trailer to haul a billion bikes plus a cooler and the plow disc.

Reservations made, dates and times confirmed. (Ohhh, yes, I felt like such a grown up! No more showing up in New Orleans two days into Mardis Gras and no clue it was happening. Not this girl. At least, not when I have children depending on me. I could unravel completely after Jase leaves home.) But this time? I had this.

Except, the weather. The rain came, and it stayed. The weather app just showed clips from The Neverending Story as The Nothing swept across northern Georgia. We broke camp in the morning, just in case. (The lady at the campground couldn't believe we were checking out early and was rather insistent that the folks giving the weather report were from Atlanta, and they have no idea what they're talking about.) We smiled at each other as the rain drops began hitting the windshield as we pulled out of the visitors center.

Then we raced over to the Battlefield to see if they were still having the tour, or if it would be postponed. Yep, still on. They knew it was going to rain, but didn't really mind. So we dismantled the Rube Goldberg machine that has become our trailer, checked the bikes, and saddled up. Off they went!

I stayed behind. EmilyGirl still hasn't quite mastered bike riding. (Comes of living on a damn steep hill with a gravel drive and a terrifying drop into the creek if you don't stop in time. Since we've moved here, the kids have been learning to ride later and later.) So she and I trundled about in the grass, in the rain. We made it about half a mile in two hours, going one half a pedal push at a time. She never quite got the hang of it, but she never did give up. She did, however, fall quite a bit, and that was her biggest fear going into it, so... yay? I think. (I'm not glad my child wrecked. But at least now she knows falling off your bike isn't the most horrible thing that could happen. Conquering fear is good. Conquering fear on grass is even better.) I didn't make her cry, and she's been back on since we got home. I'm going to call that a win.

The boys returned wet, tired, and happy. The park ranger was amazingly knowledgeable and enthusiastic. The group they rode with was a great group. Jase had his inaugural ride on the Trail-A-Bike, and he was walking ten feet tall by the end of it.

And that's when the skies opened up and let loose the fury of a thousand shipwrecks. Holy cow, that was some amazing rain! We smiled at each other again, glad we didn't have to go back to break camp in the storm, and we all headed back home with a stop at Jefferson's for some oysters and burgers, and the necessary stop at Unclaimed Baggage to see what we could see.

And you know, it was a totally different experience. We just had to go with the right people. Our people. And it was fantastic!