My dad and my boys

One of the distinct memories of my growing up years was hanging laundry on the clothesline in the summer.  I mostly spent my summers working as a waitress and I'd work in the afternoons and evenings.  Mid-morning I'd stagger around, bleary eyed and my mom would send my sisters and me outside with a basket of laundry to hang on the line.  My dad would be in his shop, making magic:

He also listened to big band music on his radio.  All the windows and the door of his shop would be open in the summer sunshine and it was the backdrop to our laundry duties.  He would call some cheerful greeting to us and we would grumble something back because we were tired teenagers.

Every once in awhile he'd drop something or hit his thumb or who knows what and we'd hear him yell, "Damn! Damn! Damn!" and we might look at each other with wide eyes and contained mirth but we wouldn't say anything because even tired teenagers aren't that stupid.

Last weekend, Braeden found a station on itunes radio that tickled his fancy.  He piped it through the house and turned it up.

It was big band music.  From the 40s.  I felt like I should be hanging clothes in the sunshine.

I cut Mark's hair awhile ago and every time it's short, he looks exactly like pictures I've seen of my dad at that age.  It's alarming to turn around and see your dad when he was a kid.

Also, while I read to Mark during school, he does things like this:

Mark made a helmet (wooden blocks) for Horace and then knighted him and gave him a (butter knife) sword and a (coaster) shield.  Sir Horace of the Barntable.

Mark had a different...medium...than my dad, but his creative making-something-with-what-he-has-on-hand is something in his genetic makeup that came with the name Mark.

My boys live far away from their grandpa and they didn't purposefully set out to be like him in these ways, it just delights me that they are.

They could do a lot worse.

Oscar

When I was in high school, I participated in Quiz Bowl.  There were four of us on a team and we would drive 5 hours to Reno to compete in a 30 minute show (which was televised on public access TV that no one watched, so yes, pretty fancy).  We would stay the night in Reno and they were really fun trips, much better than the basketball trips I took around the state.  For one thing, we went in the school car instead of a rattling uncomfortable bus.  For another thing, Quiz Bowl didn't require me to wear shorts that revealed my gawky white legs.  For another thing, I was a lot better at Quiz Bowl than basketball.

Mr. Hutchison was the teacher that took us to Quiz Bowl.  He was terrifying as a PE teacher when I was in junior high, slightly unsettling as an English teacher when I was a sophomore, and a lot of fun as a Quiz Bowl coach.  He would take us out for steak if we won and threatened us with the Circus Circus buffet if we lost.  (If you've been to Reno casinos, you know what I mean.  Bleck.)  We ended up winning all the time and I think the thought of the Circus Circus buffet had something to do with it.  We also usually went to a movie which was fabulous.  There was no movie theater in our little town so it was a treat.

Since it was back when dinosaurs roamed the earth, we would gather around a newspaper to see what was playing in the theaters.  On one particular trip, everyone else on the team wanted to see a movie that was rated R.  Mr. Hutchison said, "Thelma can't see that movie."

One of the other kids wondered why.

He said, "Marianne would never watch rated R movies."

So for about the two millionth time, I was grateful Marianne was my older sister.  Because no, I didn't watch rated R movies and when Marianne was on the Quiz Bowl team she had established that fact and paved the way for me.  (Also because of her I knew that the Mayflower wasn't one of Columbus's ships.  Sorry Marianne, too soon?)

The one sole movie that was PG was "Oscar." None of us had ever heard of it.  The rest of the kids were disappointed about the other movie they wanted to see and I had every finger crossed that they would like "Oscar" so I wouldn't have ruined their chance to see a good movie in the big city.  (Or you know, The Biggest Little City in the World)

"Oscar" was great.  We all laughed and laughed.  We quoted funny lines the next day on our way home.

Awhile ago, Adam and I came across the movie on Amazon Instant Videos.  We showed it to our children Friday night.  We all laughed and laughed.  I've always appreciated "Oscar" for being funny on that night in Reno so many years ago.  It's still really funny.

The way I see it...

I saw this:

...and all I could see were the whacky butterflies that would happen if I did this craft project with my own kids.

I think size 13 butterflies would frighten the other butterflies...

I saw this:

...and all I could see were camping and death in the same sentence.

Light

When the sun comes out my mood lifts exponentially.  Lucky for me I live in the Pacific Northwest where there are almost always gray skies.

Wait.

I have felt like a million little things are weighing me down.  One at a time they aren't that big of deal but added all together, I have been grumbly and cranky and downtrodden.

Yesterday I was preparing to go visiting teaching to my friend Carli.  (Visiting teaching is a Mormon thing.  We are assigned a few women to look after.)  Carli is days away from giving birth so she may feel a little figuratively (and literally) weighed down herself.  The message I was to share was about Jesus Christ and how He is the Light of the world.  I think it is a perfect description.  Light illuminates, it warms, it brings life and (for me) happiness.

My partner was there too when I was chatting with Carli.  She is having her own trials.  Big ones.  Things like a gravely ill family member and a wall needs to be replaced in her house.  I shared my little message and just like light reaches everything when the sun shines, I felt like it was applicable to us all.

Then spake Jesus again unto them, saying, I am the light of the world:  he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life.

John 8:12

Our conversation shifted and we talked about the fact that it is when we think we can't take it anymore that we turn most often heavenward.   We talked about how we are taught that we won't be tried beyond what we can handle but sometimes it seems we are being tried beyond what we can handle.

Maybe that happens so we will turn heavenward.

I appreciated the reminder to seek the light.  More light is what I need.  Always.

Messy creative

Last Friday we went to The Lego Movie.  We'd all been looking forward to it and it definitely lived up to its billing. 

I loved the message that placed a high value on creativity and also acknowledged how messy creativity is.

When we got home, our boys went immediately to their room to build with Legos.  (Usually they go directly to the kitchen for a snack so this was different.)

For the rest of the weekend, when they had time, they were in their room with the door closed.  They hung up Keep Out signs (don't tell them this, but the signs are sort of superfluous--none of us really want to go in their room).

Saturday Braeden had a few friends over and three seventeen year old boys hunkered on the floor and played with Legos.

Monday I suggested...clean up?  That was met with a mix of horror and shock.  Didn't I understand the process?  They aren't in there every waking hour but it needs to be ready for them when they're ready to get back to their masterpiece.

a feeble attempt at a path from the door to the bed

And I'm OK with that.

I have messes all around the house that are works in progress.  I feel like I'm drowning if things get too messy around here but if everything were perfectly clean with no creative disorder, I think that would depress me.  Or just prompt me to make a mess...

Heather posted this on our writing facebook page.  I love my writer friends.  They get that creative=messy!

Take me away

After a particular trying day with too many things to worry about and be in charge of and be annoyed by, I told Adam I wanted everyone to go away.  Except him.

I told him I wanted to live on an island with just him.  We would eat pineapple and coconut.  I asked him if occasionally he'd spear a fish for us to eat.  He said, "Yes, but I won't clean it."

I said, "I can clean it."

Then, he started dreaming bigger.  "How about a wild pig?  We could bury it in the sand and roast it."

I said, "I won't clean a wild pig.  We can eat peanut butter."

Adam decided we'd go to Costco.  It could be on the other side of the island.

"Absolutely not," I said, "There can't be anything else on the island."

Adam relented that we'd have a motor boat to take us to a nearby island that had a Costco.

(And since our kids had all been part of the annoyance.  It doesn't happen very often but sometimes they all three get together and decide to torture us on the same day.) I said, "Our kids can't know where the island is.  They can't come."

Adam said, "Of course not."

I said, "We'll visit them once a year, in our motor boat."

He said, "No, we'll fly from different airports so they won't be able to trace us."

"Can we have a hut?" I asked Adam.

"Yes," he said.  And I felt better.

Books I read in February 2014

Slim pickings for what I read this month.  I don't include everything school related we read, just the best ones.  Also, I wrote more than I read and I dreamed and schemed more than I wrote.  (I just didn't want you to think I was wasting my time...)

The Wolves of Willoughby Chase by Joan Aiken ***

I read this book aloud to Mark.  We both liked it a lot.  It seems like the kind of book any kid his age would like.  There's something for every type of kid.  It's a story about two little girls who suffer at the hands of evil adults but using their own courage and wits they are able to save the day.  What's not to like?

Blessings of a B Minus by Wendy Mogel, Ph. D. ****

I wish I'd read this book a few years ago.  I think every parent of teenagers should read it.  This book qualifies as life changing.  It was written by a woman who is a clinical psychologist specializing in parenting.  She has a lot of wisdom about how to be a parent of a teenager.  It rang true and helped me feel calmer about doing less and also invigorated to do more (of the right things) for my teenagers.

I agreed with almost all of it.  I completely skipped the chapter that I knew I wouldn't agree with.  It's great to be a grown-up.  I like being completely in charge of the intake to my brain.