The Perfect Child?

I came home today from a wonderful women's retreat weekend at Aldersgate where I enjoyed the beautifully landscaped grounds in the sunshine, the company of caring, funny women of all ages, inspiring testimonies of God's faithfulness, fabulous meals that I didn't have to prepare or clean up, and an outstanding speaker who shared how God has worked through the difficulties in her life to teach her to live according to eternity thinking. So here I am, inspired to look beyond the here and now and live for eternity. Amazing how last week's hike really fit that theme, as I didn't see the beauty til I was able to look past the ugly black burnt trees to see the mountains beyond.

I was the M.C. at this event, and I shared a few of the humorous family stories that sometimes illustrated the points that the speakers made. (As well as some that perhaps didn't.) It's possible that during one of these stories I may have been guilty of referring to Nick as "our perfect child."

But this afternoon after I got home, everything Nick did was extremely irritating to me. Perhaps the sleep deprivation of the weekend contributed to that. I had to make many urgent suggestions regarding his driving on the way to and from church. We bought laundry detergent after church because they ran out and no one was able to replace it in my absence. He started his laundry after we got home, and commented how the new detergent really smelled like bleach. I sprang up from the table and leaped over to the washer. It not only smelled like bleach, it WAS bleach. The new bottle of liquid detergent, white in color just like the bottle of bleach, was still on the kitchen counter. A week's worth of new school clothes, including the new sweatshirt, were in the washer. It is amazing how many of them were splattered with bleach. I think only the three items on the very bottom of the washer were spared. Thankfully, his red Search and Rescue shirt was one ot the items left unmarred. I am appalled. Does anyone know, if you dye clothes with bleach spots, will it take the color evenly? I have never dyed anything. (At least not anything that doesn't grown on my head.) It sounds like a lot of trouble. The sweatshirt is both gray and black. I might try to mark the black with a Sharpie and see if that helps. I might go out and buy Sharpies of every color tomorrow and see if it helps! Nick does not seem too terribly disturbed by it. He even thinks the jeans and some of the shirts look cool. I have informed him I will not be buying him new clothes to replace these. I am even reasonably sure that my voice was not excessively loud or high when I made that declaration.

Our weekend speaker, who deals with some health issues, told us that often when people say, "How are you?" her reply is, "I feel crappy, but I'm still happy." (She first asked permission to use the potty language!) So when I look at Nick as he wears these pathetic looking clothes, I will think, "You look crappy, but I still feel happy!" Because this is not an event that will affect his eternal destiny. This too will pass!


But the sweatshirt may have to go away.

Am too a Wilderness Girl!

At last we had a free Saturday to go hiking. Will wanted to go to the mountains and make a day of it. I almost didn't go because I'd been gone so much last week and had many Saturday chores plus four pies to bake for the big pinochle group barbecue Sunday. But after going to the funeral of a 52-year-old friend on Friday afternoon and hearing her son talk about how special their last family trip to the beach had been a few weeks earlier, I decided I must get my priorities right and go for it on Saturday. In the future, would I be glad that I missed the opportunity to hike in the mountains with my family because I needed to stay home and be a drudge? Besides that, Will got the laundry started and a few chores done Thursday night while I was out having fun! What a guy!

It was a little drizzly as we approached the trailhead. Knowing that I am somewhat a fair weather outdoor girl, Will suggested I might enjoy going to Hoodoo Lodge with my book, and he and Nick would call me when they were nearly back to the parking lot. I detected an unspoken opinion that perhaps I just wasn't up to this particular hike. Suddenly the 44 degree damp weather really didn't seem that bad, and I was determined to participate. My resolve was soon tested as we practically bushwhacked through the beginning of the trail, which went through a forest that had burned a couple years ago. Many snags blocked the trail and needed to be climbed over or detoured around. The trail got a little better as we went on, but the blackened remains of the trees we passed through were not what I had envisioned for a hike to commune with nature in the wilderness.

Isn't it lovely? Desperately not wanting to whine, in the most pleasant voice I could muster, I asked Will if this was all we were going to see, or would we soon pass through this to an unburned forest. He seemed surprised and disappointed that I did not find this a scenic hike. So I tried to keep my mouth shut and persevered on.

He kept asking me if I recognized the area, because we had cross country skiied there with our friends Jan and Steve Buckley once 22 years ago when it was a lovely forest covered in snow, and he always seemed surprised and disappointed when I had to confess I didn't not recognize anything. (I was about to start lying just to make him feel better.) After we stopped for lunch at this lovely spot, I was freezing. As we prepared to continue on into the blackness, I decided I did not want to go any farther. I apologized for being a fair weather hiker, but told Will I would return to the car and wait there for them. He said something about being sorry he had failed to maintain my wilderness quotient and had allowed me to become citified. He indicated he would not enjoy hiking on because he would be too concerned about me becoming lost. I was confident I knew exactly how to get to the car. Nick offered to accompany me if it would make Will feel better. I couldn't let that happen, so I capitulated. But my hands were freezing. Will had some really nice gloves to wear, and he offered me his extras, a pair of big ugly (although new) work gloves. I graciously declined. Nick offered me some wool socks from his pack. I declined again. Will even offered me his nice gloves. I declined again, stating that once we got going my hands would warm up. Sure enough they did.... much, much later.

We reached the beautiful green forest I had been dreaming of not long after that, and even made it to Lower Burley Lake. Nick and Will had birds eating out of their hands. That was all well and good til one of the birds dived at me as I stood there with the camera. I recognized the birds, and well remembered them eating out of Will and Steve's hands 22 years ago.

Nick demonstrated his water filtering system from his Search and Rescue equipment. He perhaps regretted his decision to carry his full pack, the better to be in shape for SAR callouts.

The return trip was much more enjoyable than the walk in. For some reason, I was able to see the beauty in the contrasts between the green ferns and wildflowers and the blackness of the trees. Also, the surrounding mountains were visible because of the openness. For a long stretch, Mount Washington was visible, with the sun actually shining on it.

So, although Will pretends he regrets letting me come along, and though I feared for awhile that hiking trails would need to be added to the list of things he needs my help selecting (camping sites and chair placement are already on this short list), I am very glad I accompanied my guys on this memory making, 8.4 mile trip.

I may have hinted to Will that I believed that probably no one else would choose to hike in that particular area right now, but as always, I am proved wrong. At 9:45 tonight, Nick got a Search and Rescue callout for a couple of lost hikers. Will seems to think they are in the same area where we were on Saturday. So they have gone down to the Sheriff's Office. I wish them much success.

The Healing Field

On Sunday just before lunch, I got a call from a friend who had been in Salem the day before at a 9/11 memorial called the "Healing Field" at Salem Riverfront Park. She told me it had a section of flags for each of the WTC victims and another section of flags for the military personnel who have lost their lives since then, with a plaque for each of the military. She had seen Tyler's plaque and wanted to be sure we knew about it. I called Dave, who was also unaware of it. Carol Eichelberger and I drove to Salem and met Dave there. Wow. It was very sobering to look across the huge expanse with all those flags. The plaque read, "In grateful memory of Lance Corporal Tyler Troyer, United States Marine and Battalion, 2nd Marion G Company". They were selling flags there, and we asked about buying the plaque. They said they give them to the parents. We ordered one for Terri as well, since she and Michael weren't able to come up when they found out at the last minute also.
I also have been meaning to share some pictures of the flag memorial in honor of Tyler at the park behind our house. Sadly for us, the dedication ceremony happened in July while we were on vacation so we missed it. When I was at the park with Brenden last week, it really struck me how strange and sad it was to be playing with one nephew while a memorial to another nephew was visible right next to the playground. All the little kids playing there probably have no idea that Tyler once ran around and played in that very park.
I walked over this evening and took the pictures and it was getting a little dark so you can't see the red, white and blue flowers very well. Here's a close up of the plaque.

A week from today it will be 10 months since we lost Tyler.

Toki

Tuesday after school Eric told me he needed to asked permission for something at dinner. I want to know what he's going to ask. "No, you'll just say no. I can't tell you because I have to make a speech first to both you and dad." So I was quite curious and a bit nervous as well!

Molly also joined us for dinner, which we partook of on our shady deck. Eric started talking about how responsible he is, now that he is 18. He takes care of Molly's dog all the time, cleaning up it's messes, feeding, walking it, etc. He gave us several examples of his exemplary character and maturity at this advanced age of 18. Also, this would improve our relationship with our neighbor across the street, because we would get to know her better, since she is the director of Safe Haven. He and Molly had been to Safe Haven checking out kitties. There was a special deal going on for adopting two kitties. Molly already had permission to get one. He would take full responsibility for it and take it with him when he moves out.

So I find myself sharing my house with a feline again. Eric was the reason we got our first and only other cat back in about 1997. Eric wanted to make a pet out of a half-dead shrew that he found in the back yard. I wouldn't let him. That night when I tucked him in bed, he was in tears. "Mom, do you think I will ever have a pet?" How could I deny such a child? Fortuitously, withing a week or so, my neice Dawn had a cat she needed to give up, so it came to live with us until it met it's untimely end several years ago due to complications of skin cancer. (White cats should not spend much time outside.)

A few months ago, Eric and Molly each got a pet rat. Molly has custody of both of them. I guess Eric's kitty is going to visit her while he's at work tonight, because they took it with them this afternoon. This kitty's name is Toki. (I'm not sure how to spell it.) He says it's Chinese for rabbit. I realized a needed a "family picture" as they were about to leave so I made them wait in the driveway while I grabbed my camera. Here they are - Eric with Toki, Marley the dog, Molly and her kitty (don't know it's name). Don't worry, Eric put Toki in the back seat with Marley before he drove off.

The First Week is Over!

It's good to have the first week of school behind us. Our numbers are at an all time high, 675 compared to our previous all time high of 650 last year. Six years ago when I started, we were about 585. All week long, I have been responding to forgetful children. "I forgot my lunch number." "I locked my locker combo in my locker." "Can you print me a new schedule, I left mine at home in my pocket." Then we have the brilliant parents. One of them, looking at his child's schedule which is numbered 1 through 8 listing the classes, asked how he knows which one to go to first!

Nick and Eric have bonded, riding to school together every day. Eric showed him how to get his schedule changed, dropping Drama for the Computer Apps class he wanted but didn't get. It came through today. Nick is really enjoying his electronics class, wanting to go to Radio Shack today to buy the junk to make a circuit like they did in class.

It's been a very hectic week and I was looking forward to coming home and relaxing tonight, but something better came up. Nick and I were shopping for a few more school clothes. (I brought home a polo shirt for Nick off a clearance rack earlier this week. He laughed. It has a pocket. He would never wear it. Or if he could rip the pocket off he would wear it.) So we were at Mervyn's big sale after school when Jody called, asking if we could keep Brenden for a few hours. (Anisa as always was her first choice but she didn't answer her phone. I'm not bitter, I know it's a geographical issue. I hope.) So Nick and I picked up Brenden and got to hang out with him. We visited Brittany and family on our way to the park. He didn't want to leave there to go to the park, but he loved the park. He was about to go down the slide when a cute little girl noticed there was water at the bottom of it so she wiped it off with her shirt! It's too bad there couldn't have been more people here to witness Brenden saying goodbye to Uncle Will, giving him a hug and a kiss on the lips! It was very cute.

Labor Day Weekend

For the first time ever, we camped on Labor Day weekend. Will and Nick went up earlier than I did, since he had the day off but I couldn't leave the office til we were ready for the first day of school. Since people were coming in to register all day long, I didn't get my work done in a timely manner and was there til after 6. But that's another story. So I didn't get to have any input on our campsite. Poor Will knew that wherever he set up, it would be wrong. He was right.

We camped at the Sheriff's Posse Camp (where the Search and Rescue Academy is held). The annual posse potluck was to be held Sunday, so they started arriving Saturday. We ended up surrounded by four camp trailers, and their horses were in the coral behind us. They are nice people, and the horses are lovely. But in the early morning when they go on a ride and leave just one horse behind, that horse objects. Loudly. Over and over. I don't know if it's a whinny or a neigh, but the repeated shrill shrieking sounds of that lonely horse certainly destroyed my hopes of sleeping in a bit on a lazy camping morning. But of course I didn't complain. I might have mentioned it a few times, but mentioning does not equal complaining. Anywhere Will parks is fine with me....They left yesterday afternoon, so the only thing left to complain about, I mean mention, was the odor wafting in the breeze from the horse area. Luckily I have been conditioned not to complain or whine about the minor inconveniences of life.

At the potluck, I met a woman who used to own and operate Dancin' Bloomers, a nursery in Shedd where I bought many plants the first few years we lived here. We were chatting about it. The two friends from church who were also there asked me about it later. "So what's this Dancin' Bloomers place you used to go to all the time?" Apparently the conversation didn't indicate that it was a nursery, and they were quite puzzled about me being so enthusiastic about a place with a name like that! I was able to quickly cut short their speculation on the possiblity that I had a secret life.