Some Summertime

Swim lessons are our only regularly scheduled activity this summer, and some days it feels like they're all that's keeping us from descending into Lord of the Flies territory. Somehow the days slip away without me planning anything. And what I'm left with is one boy who wants to spend 100% of his time with his brother and one boy who wants to spend 80% of his time apart from the company of his brother. Which leads to elbow-throwing and accidental kicking and lots of wide-eyed "I didn't know that would hurt!"s.

Thankfully, the first of our three summer camping trips is coming right up. That will be good fun for all of us and provide a more scenic backdrop for the inevitable squabbles. Until then, here is a hodgepodge of pictures of our summer so far.

It turns out that I can buy eggs at church from a family whose teenage daughter sells them for pocket money. At $3/dozen they're much cheaper than any other fresh eggs around. And they are so pretty.

It's always a struggle to fix proper dinners in the summer. I don't want to cook when it's hot. I never thought the kids would get tired of hot dogs, but I think we're just about there. One Saturday evening we splurged and Shaun picked up Panda Express for dinner, and Willem got the worst fortune ever.

Shaun became an official member of the Fern Prairie Modelers. He now has the key code to the gate and can fly any 'ol time.

Willem is usually busy reading or playing or working on a project long before the rest of us are up. One morning I came downstairs to turn on my computer and he walked into the office with his hands behind his back.

"I made you something," he said, and showed it to me. It was a tire swing. I love that Willem surveyed his pile of stuff and came up with that. Giving him carte blanche to use the hot glue gun was one of the best decisions we ever made.

Since I plan so few activities, I try to at least get to the Camas Farmer's Market every week with the boys. It's only one block long, but we usually run into people we know, and Willem in particular looks forward to seeing what craft they have available. It's usually geared towards much younger children, but that doesn't ever stop him from participating. You can practically see his little fingers start to twitch as he gets near the canopy and spots the art supplies.

Two weeks ago we went to the market on a day they'd planned a kids' pie-eating contest. I asked Nels if he wanted to do it (I suspected he wouldn't.) He said, no, he didn't think so. Willem was surrounded by toddlers at the craft table, so it took me several tries to get his attention and ask him if he wanted to enter. Yes he did want to enter, and he said that he was going to win. He didn't say it in a braggy way at all, he just said it as though he had some secret knowledge that none of the rest of us were privy to. After seeing his brother's enthusiasm, Nels decided he'd go ahead and enter too.

Here is Willem grinning at his pie. It was blackberry crumble with whipped cream on top, provided by the fine folks at Truly Scrumptious. First kid to finish was the winner, with the younger ones going first.

A strange thing happened when those kids tore into their pies. Willem was one of the oldest in his age group, and he went at it with a ferocity that totally took me by surprise. I started giggling. He kept going. Other people started to notice him and began to point and talk about him. I was hot and tired, and for some reason the reaction I had to this unexpected attention was that I moved on from giggling to cackling like a crazy person. Willem shook his pie tin in his teeth like a puppy with a bone. You can see the boy next to him giving him the side eye. At some point the other kids kind of gave up and just watched Willem. And I laughed like a maniac and wiped the tears from my eyes the whole time. Oy.

Triumphant and only very slightly queasy. 

The prize was a $5 token to spend at the market. He wanted to buy carrots, but at $4 for a tiny bunch I told him I'd buy him some at the grocery store and he could save his money for something more special. 

Nels probably ate his pie as quickly as Willem did, but he didn't stand a chance against the giant 15 year-old standing next to him.

That didn't stop him from enjoying every bite of his pie.

We almost always go out to Shaun's folks' place for the 4th of July. Since it fell on a Thursday this year, the boys had swim lessons first. A local church provided a free barbecue for the entire city right in the park where they have lessons, so we were able to grab lunch before we hit the road to spend a few nights at grandma and grandpa's.

Shaun's dad often has projects lined up for the boys. They love the opportunity to earn a dollar or two, and it keeps them busy. This time they were supposed to be helping dig up a pipe, but mostly they watched.

And watched.

Willem got in there a little bit. Nels watched.

Shaun's mom Linda grew mesclun in her garden for the first time, and it was very happy to grow there. We ate it all weekend, and she sent me home with this lovely batch of greens.

Back at home, Shaun finally (mostly) finished the Piper Cub model he's been devoted to for the past several weeks. My mom was visiting for a few days, so she joined us for the inaugural flight.

I wish I could adequately convey just how much work it was to build that plane, and how fine a job Shaun did. But if a picture's worth a thousand words, this one will have to do.

Summer Underway

School was out for the year three weeks ago now. The boys picked out their last-day-of-school outfits just as deliberately as they had picked their first. 

Willem nicely bookended his academic year with Hawaiian shirts. Nels's shirt (a reference to the Diary of A Wimpy Kid book series) may overstate the case somewhat, but personality-wise he definitely has an absent-minded professor thing going on.

Usually the last day of school is a jubilant affair, but the mood this year was surprisingly somber. When I went to pick the boys up, I saw Willem's teacher give each of her kids a huge squeeze as she sent them off home. The past year was her first in the classroom after being the PE teacher for several years, and she loved her students like crazy. Watching her, I totally lost it and started crying. Actually, I'm starting to tear up right now just thinking about it.

I wiped the tears off my face and smiled at Willem. "How was your last day of school?"

"Oh, it was all right. I had to try hard not to cry all day."

When I mentioned to one of the other moms how weird the vibe was, she suggested it might be because of the school boundary changes. Well, of course that was it. Almost a third of the students at Helen Baller will be going to a different school next year, with even more new students replacing them. Some of the teachers will be moving as well. I even found out through the grapevine that our beloved librarian will be changing schools. I haven't told the boys yet, because I don't want to ruin their summer.

As I walked the boys to the car, I tried to rally the troops. "Aren't you guys excited? It's summer!"

"Yeah, I guess," they said in sad little voices.

They couldn't stay blue for long, though, because they'd been invited to a swim party at our local outdoor pool before it even opened to the public. The woman who manages the pool rented it for a birthday party for her nephew, and also invited forty of her children's friends to celebrate the start of summer. Nels and Willem were thrilled to swim for an hour. A rainstorm blew in just as they were finishing up their post-swim shaved ice. We walked home in the downpour to find packages from Grandpa Scott waiting on our doorstep.

My dad has designed the (award-winning) artwork for the Ski to Sea race in Bellingham, Washington for many years (with a few years off here and there). In our packages were hoodies, posters, and t-shirts from the latest race. The bedraggled boys were quick to snuggle into the sweatshirts and arm themselves with the party favors they'd just brought home. Summer: looking up.

Fly, Boys

Shaun has always liked aviation, though he ultimately didn't end up going down that road career-wise. Encountering lots of flight-related stuff recently has stirred his interest back up. And when we ran across an RC (radio controlled) airfield on our trip to Walla Walla, it was the last little nudge Shaun needed to get an RC plane of his own.

Flying his Hawk Sky (I always want to say Sky Hawk) for the first time was such an intense experience that Shaun was shaken for the rest of the day after he flew it. It's not every day I get to see Shaun rattled, so that was fun. And it's fun for him too. He likes flying RC planes because it's hard. Which is exactly the opposite of why I enjoy my hobbies, and one of the things I admire most about him.

It's not unusual to meet pilots in town, because we're so close to PDX here and the schools are good. Our next-door neighbor flies for Horizon. But it was unusual (and exciting) when two F-15 pilots (brothers-in-law) and their families started attending our church. They ended up joining our weekly small group, so Shaun has been able to ask questions of them to his heart's content.

We also uncovered a fellow RC enthusiast at church, who invited the boys to watch the pylon races that the Fern Prairie Modelers hold at our local RC airfield on Saturdays. They've been several times and are enjoying the local color. :)

How airplane-crazy is it around here? Well, one night I found Shaun reading the FAA handbook online. For fun. Nels once came home from school and skipped his allotted TV time in favor of building an airplane he'd been designing in his mind all day. (One possible explanation for why it takes him so long to finish classroom assignments.) And just now Willem walked into the office and grabbed the two thick airplane identification guides that Shaun got for his birthday.

"What are you doing with those?"
"Going to read them."

We have a flight simulator on the computer, which all the boys like to use. Willem uses it occasionally, but Nels has practiced enough that he was able to transition to the Champ (Shaun bought it as the "family" plane) and fly in real life. Willem's not quite there yet.

The third plane they fly is called a Slow Stick. It's big and (duh) slow, so it can be flown in a smaller area. Nels helped put it together.

I like its strong graphic quality. It looks good both in the air and hanging on our office wall.

But nothing beats the balsa-wood models for beauty.

Shaun built a Piper Super Cub 95 and Nels a Cessna. I'd tell you the model but I don't want to go hunting for the box.

The tissue paper coating is treated with dope and then heat, which tightens and strengthens it. It looks like a panel in a Japanese screen. 

Both boys are enjoying the airplanes (they were beside themselves when they received their Academy of Model Aeronautics membership cards in the mail), but Nels especially so. Here he is (really tiny) flying the Champ at the softball field a block away from our house.

And here's Nels flying at the Fern Prairie Modeler's field. He's sharing the controls via "buddy box" with a fellow named Judd, who wins the pylon races every week. It's great to see an old-timer welcome and encourage a young person he hardly knows.

The planes go with us on visits to the Grandmartins, and are flown in the neighbor's field when the weather permits. I don't want to learn to fly, but watching reminds me:

Some glad morning, when this life is o'er,

I'll fly away.

Hobby Happy

Growing up, I never thought much about being a parent. I figured I'd have kids someday, because that seemed to be the way of things. What would my kids do for fun (besides read, of course)? Maybe have tea parties? Play dress-up? Our blended family had four girls and two boys, one of whom was much younger than me, and the other much older. I didn't really know what they were into, with the notable exception of my little brother's obsession with Calvin and Hobbes.

Then I grew up and got married and had two boys, and I learned they were into tractors and construction equipment. And animals and superheroes and weapons and space and robots and monsters and Calvin and Hobbes. And Lego. Boy howdy, are they into Lego.

Anyone who's been around kids for a while knows they periodically molt old interests. A few endure (see Lego), but many are replaced entirely. Nels could identify a knuckleboom loader or a feller buncher as a preschooler, but he wouldn't be able to now. 

Our most recent activities kick-started last Christmas, when Nels asked for a model of a battleship. He built one, then another. By the time he started an airplane, Willem wanted in on the action. Between the two of them, they have put together the USS Arizona, the BB-63 Missouri, a P-51 Mustang, a B-17 Flying Fortress, a US Tank M41 Walker Bulldog, a Willys MB Jeep, a Bell H-13H, and a CH-47D "Chinook." An A-10 Warthog is in the works, but Nels seems to have lost the steam to work on it. And yes, I did have to copy all of those names from their boxes.

The wonderful thing about model-building is that it's an activity that both Shaun and the boys enjoy, so they can spend time together and nobody's suffering through it.

Also, it's quiet.

When Willem has a model going, he's always up before the rest of us. I wake up and find him already downstairs and hard at work in the lamplight. It is one of my favorite things.

Willem and Shaun each built a Bell H-13H. Otherwise known as the MASH helicopter.

 Willem's models live on his bookcase, above the books and underneath the monsters. We should probably bow to the inevitable and line an entire wall of his bedroom with shelves.

Here's Nels with his B-17.

The models are great. But the REAL hobby around here these days is the building and flying of model airplanes. Which needs its own post. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go throw myself a tea party.

All About Mom

Willem's classroom's Mother's Day celebration was yesterday. He'd been looking forward to it for weeks, telling Shaun about it at bedtime over and over. I was expecting to get a manicure like I did from Nels when he was in first grade, but apparently they've revised the program since then. I can't imagine why.

All of the moms showed up at eleven, forming clumps and milling about awkwardly until the kids came in from recess. Our students gave us a (very congested) tour of the classroom before seating us at their desks and serving us muffins and fruit, accompanied by the big surprise: back-rubs. Willem was super excited about it, but when he asked "Can I stop now?" and I said yes, I'm not sure which one of us was more relieved.

After we ate, the kids showed us their "get the wiggles out" dance and recited a poem and sang a song. The song was "Put a Little Love in Your Heart," which I thought was a weird choice. I can't imagine any group of people less in need of that admonishment than a group of mothers being sung to by their six or seven year-old children.

The best activity came at the end. Portraits of the moms lined the back wall, and each mom was supposed to guess which picture her child had drawn of her. Each drawing was accompanied by an info sheet, so you'd think it would be easy to figure out. Not necessarily.

ALL ABOUT MOM

Let me tell you about my mom.

My mom is 42 years old.

I'm 40.

She likes to watch cooking shows.

Haven't watched one since we got rid of cable TV well over a year ago.

The best thing she cooks is chickin pot pie.

Marie Callender's.

Her favorite food is salad.

No.

Her favorite thing to do to relax is sleep.

Can't be any more relaxed than asleep.

We like to hug together.

Very sweet. Weirdly put.

She is really good at cooking cornbread.

Again, Marie Callender's.

As you can see, my mom is special because she loves me.

Yes. Exactly right.

How Sweet It Was

I've always been a dessert person. And while I never would have turned down ice cream or candy when I was a kid, what I really loved were baked goods. Our family dinners reflected the constraints of our era (the eighties) and budget (lots of mouths to feed), but on the rare occasions when we had dessert, Mom went all-out.

Carrot cake, fresh strawberry pie, cheesecake and lemon meringue pie, all made from scratch, spoiled me for store-bought desserts forever. Mom was the designated dessert-bringer to all of our family gatherings, and, once I moved out, I brought dessert places whenever I could. It was always well-received.

But lately, I feel like I'm losing it. Recipes that I love and that turn out perfectly the first time around (like this Rhubarb and Raspberry Crostata) crash and burn on the second try. Nothing tastes quite as good as I remember it tasting. The Salty Chocolate Chunk Cookies I made this week turned out like this:

Yes, I've checked my oven temperature. I think I've just lost my touch. I've started bringing salads to potlucks.

And yet, every once in a while, I'm surprised. My boys have less finicky dessert palates than I do, and they always want those frosted sugar cookies from the grocery store. I have to say, they do have a strange appeal. So, when I saw a recipe for homemade Soft Frosted Vanilla Sugar Cookies, I decided I had to try it.

Wow. They are borderline too sweet, but they are so good. Everyone who tried them (except Shaun, of course) made a noise of appreciation upon taking their first bite. They're even good without the frosting, which is really saying something coming from me. The cookies did spread out more than they were supposed to (I only took a picture of the most successful ones), and I haven't tried making them a second time yet, but I will get to it eventually. In the meantime, I'm ready to shed my identity as a person who always brings a good dessert to a meal and work on being a person it's nice to be around, no matter what my culinary contribution. 

And while my kids always appreciate homemade treats, nothing I've made myself has elicited a comment like the one I overheard Willem making to Nels:

"When Mom bought Oreos, it seemed to change my life."

"How?"

"I don't know...it's hard to explain. It made it better."

Passing It On

I don't say much about writing much on this blog, even though it's one of my favorite things to think and read about. Until I earn the right to talk about writing by actually writing more than I think and read about writing, you won't see much about it here.

I have to make an exception in this case, though, to tell you about my friend Christi Krug's new book. Without her encouragement, I may not have mustered up the courage to write and share anything beyond this blog.

When I first moved to Washington, I took a Clark College community education class from Christi. The class was called Wildfire Writing, and, as the name suggested to me, it was a little more touchy-feely than I am comfortable with. But I am so glad that I stuck with it.

Some people are going to write no matter what. I am not one of those people. I am insecure and fearful. I will never be able to silence my vociferous inner critic, but at least Christi's class helped me distract it long enough to get some words on the page.

I enjoyed the first section of the class so much that I went on to the second, and then continued on with a smaller group after that. That group eventually petered out, but after a few years I went back and took Wildfire Writing again. It turns out that that negative voice in my head is nothing but persistent.

Now Christi has written the book Burn Wild, which includes much of what she teaches in the class and more. (You can buy it here.) The book is a smorgasbord of exercises, prompts, inspiration, anecdotes, and reflections. It's not a "craft" book, if that's what you need. It won't be for everyone. (It's kind of touchy-feely like the class.) But it is full of wonderful ideas and encouragement, and in its pages you will get to know one of the most gentle and generous people I know.

I received a copy of the book to review, but I thought it would be fun to buy one myself and give it away to someone who, like me, has struggled to be creative. I don't have a very big readership here, but if you are a new-ish writer and would like the book for yourself (or would like to give it to a new-ish writer that you care about), just say so in the comments before Monday at noon. I'll pick a person at random (if there's more than one!) and update the post on Monday with the winner.

Here's another helpful review in case you want to know more. I should also mention that this book totally destroyed my preconceived notions about self-publishing. Its quality in every aspect is equal to that of any traditionally published book. I didn't even know such a thing was possible. The fact that Christi put together such an amazing team just makes me respect her that much more.

In the chapter "Small Things" Christi writes this: 

Instead of being famous, as I once thought I needed to be, I have found a sphere of influence where I can help and encourage.

I love that. I hope to find that with my writing too.