Five Guys

I'm loving the 60+ degree weather here in Southern Indiana today. Way to ring out 2010. Betsy and I took about a 45 minute walk this morning and got 'too hot.' I wanted to go out for some more walk around 3:45 and took off on the "Heritage Trail," a paved bike/walking trail through Clarksville. C'ville is the kind of town where inflatable holiday decorations are ubiquitous, now deflated on the lawns, the per capita of dogs is high and/or dog owners who don't clean up after themselves and burned out stock cars rest in the yards of homeowners. This particular trail is quite ominous taking me down a tree strewn deserted path with J and J Pallet Company fences on either side, one side barbed wire, the other simple chain link. The smell of burning pallets was pungent in the air but no workers were to be seen (perhaps oompa loompas operate here). 3 young men walked ahead of me and luckily turned off and 20-something men with no teeth on kiddie bikes passed leisurely by. Somehow my cell phone was not making me feel very secure. I finally arrived at the hallowed 'soccer fields' Betsy recommended I walk to. I came back along Brown's Station Way and preferred the threat of death by a 60 mph speeding car to being dragged into the woods and raped and eventually killed. Anyway, as you can tell, I lived and am here to write about it.

In between these delightful walks, Betsy and I went to lunch and shopping in New Albany. What is all the hubbaloo about Five Guys Hamburgers anyway? First of all there weren't hardly any customers in there, and I'll tell you why. All they have is hamburgers, fries, and a hot dog, literally. No sweet potato fries, no cheese fries, no malts, shakes or ice cream, and no patience for two sisters arguing over whether to put onions on the hamburger they were about to share. The burgers are big, and greasy but much like I would make at home. The fries were good, natural cut, oh and they do have free peanuts while you wait. Well, I wanted to try it because it's Obama's favorite. I just don't know why.

Shopping. I have gone completely mad about shopping. I now have a printer/scanner, bath and body stockpile, scrapbooks, crafting supplies, a new duvet to go with my down comforter and sheets, and a dress and heels for a reunion I don't even know if I am going to. It's insane. I feel like a complete shopaholic, reality show, game show junkie. Good thing I drove my parents van so I can load up good.

I am simply stuffed from Simply Thai where we had our New Year's Eve dinner. Edamame appetizer, Spring Rolls (cold, ick), Pad Thai (of course), Loaded Fried Rice, and Red Curry. We ordered spice level 3 out of 5, which was plenty for me to keep the water and tea flowing to drown it out. We stopped at Pie Kitchen on the way home, there seems to be one on every corner now, and picked several decadent desserts for later.

We played two board games, Imaginiff and Pictureeka (Nephew11 and I each won one game), devoured gluttonous portion of 7 layer dessert, watched more Kendra, Chelsea Lately and The Soup to make it to midnight, which I am happy to say HAPPY NEW YEAR and goodnight.

Strawberry Pictorial

This was reportedly the 47th year of the Vicks making Strawberries. My first Christmas my mom was mentored in the fine art of strawberry making in Columbia, Missouri, and we have been doing it together ever since, bringing in the next generation, despite the fact that some of us have thrown up (coincidental) after eating too many. My dad always takes pictures of the endeavor, we have hoardes of them by now, so here goes 2010-


This process starts on the right where I am pictured rolling the balls. Betsy is stressfully shaping the balls while simultaneously rotating them in the red then green sugar. Nephew11 is inserting the green dyed almond sliver that is the stem. (This is sounding a little weird)


Now I have taken over the stem job. Rolling the balls only last so long because your hands gets covered in gook and you then get to lick them off. Boy17 has taken over stage 1, Nephew11 is the shaper, Boy16 is a bystander, still in coat.




Here I am holding up a shaped strawberry for a stem, flexing my muscle for the picture and asking, "How does my arm look?"



This is Betsy Laughing her ass off at my Arm Vanity. Stay tuned, I somehow missed a couple of other pics I needed to add here. So the story is not quite finished.

What is this Wonkiness?

I am trying hard not use words like "crazy," "retarded," and "gay" where those are not literally intended and trying to think of clever ways to get my students and people around me not to use them. The only synonym I can think of for crazy seems to be wonky, and/or that something is driving me up a wall. For the latter two, I have substituted "ri-donk-ulous" not that I am one to use those anyway. Be that as it may, here are some goofy pictures from Christmas, the last being poor Uncle Cal photographed up the nose. The others are me trying to get a good picture of myself, hahaha and our game of "Last Words" after dinner.

Day 2 or 26, Depending on how you look at it

What is up with this new schedule? Today is day 2 of my 27 day winter break. I know, it's sick. But why am I waking at 4-4:30 a.m. when I usually get up at 5:30 for work? This creates a dire need for a nap before noon which doesn't always work out. I have so much to do! But I'm not complaining, no no no.

My Left Foot

Things I hate about aging:

When the bank teller asks how old you are not to assess if you are too young for ?? but to see if you qualify for a senior discount. At least I haven't been mistaken for being a grandmother...well, one of my students was wondering why I wasn't a grandma since I have 22 year old off-spring.

My left foot hurts, a new ache between the toes and ball of my foot leading me to believe I will be having foot surgery before I retire. If that ain't old...

When I'm tempted to put on a plastic rain bonnet to go outside. JUST KIDDING!!!!

Lack of memory and having to write all over my hands, and when there is no pen available repeat over and over the same thing so I remember it, and make up little devices to remember things like, I have to get 3 things at the store, they all start with S. And all of this seems so urgent and life or death.

Talking to myself is getting way out of control. Out loud. I am doing it now in public places like stores and privately in the shower and anytime I am frustrated or annoyed. I don't even care anymore. Maybe my years in mental health are impacting me here, too, where talking to oneself is considered a mild symptom.

Menopause. Need I say more? Yes, I have to tell one story. Last summer when Mom, Betsy and I were on our way back to Seattle after our excursion to Vancouver in a rental car after the Alaskan cruise, I was lamenting the fact that my doctor didn't agree that I needed a hysterectomy. And Betsy says, "My doctor said I could have a hysterectomy because of my five rights."
Me: "What five rights? What healthcare bill of rights do they have in Indiana saying you're entitled to one free hysterectomy?"
Betsy: "Five rights? I didn't say five rights, I said fibroids."
That exchange was then enough to wake Mom from her roaring slumber in the back seat to our hysterical, sisterly laughing and was good for two to three days of pants wetting delight. We were all getting a little punchy by then anyway. We then debated how long we could get off work for various surgeries and if a tonsillectomy was also one of our five rights, even if you don't need one and just want some time off.

A Little Night Theater

Wow. Now I have seen my son smoke, drink and wear a dress on stage. Last night was the student directed One Act Plays at the high school. Boy17 was slated to direct a melodrama called "The Wild Flowering of Chastity." Friday we learned he was also acting in two of the plays including his own since they were short on actors. Pat and I picked up my parents for a "double date" since it is nice to get in a warm car and have door to door service when you are in your 70's. On the way in another parent said, "He looks nice in a dress" and we looked bewildered since we are always the last to know about our children. She quickly apologized for ruining the surprise.

Before the show my dad and I both agreed to nudge my mom if she fell asleep, make that, started snoring. You do not want that to start since her snoring is akin to a train rolling through town. Midway into the second play, I looked to my left and Pat was sitting with his hand over his face, eyes closed and his usual pained expression on his face (let's just call it his theater mask). To my right I could hear the heavy breathing of my mother which is the precursor to the big snore. On her right was my dad with his head tilted and since his dead eye is on the left it appeared he, too, was dozing. I suddenly started laughing to myself at the absurdity of it, which also helped pass the time. I let my mom go until a faint snore started and then elbowed her gently.

The last act before intermission was called "Two Jerks Buying a Christmas Tree" starring Boy17's best friend Danny and a girl we call Peppermint Patty. They walked onto stage dressed Housewives of New Jersey style talking to each other on cell phones in their best NY accent and mannerisms. Patricia had on a huge fur hat, tight jeans, chewing gum. Danny's standard line was "Whattaya want babe?" They proceeded to annoy the Christmas tree seller on the street with goofy requests such as a 50 foot tree. It was so funny I was busting out laughing with tears streaming down my face. This was originally a Saturday Night Live skit. Both Danny and Patricia are regular actors in the numerous home movies that Boy17 and his friends make. Patricia is one of the two girls, make that three after last weekend, to have set foot in my house. She is from a musical, theatrical family and rides a bicycle straight out of Wizard of Oz. She is unique.

After intermission there was "12 Angry Pigs" with twelve pig jurors sitting at a long table debating the fate of the Big Bad Wolf. Boy17 played Little Boy Blue skipping across the stage offering the jurors a pail of slop, a pizza, then after they jump up to get it, "Nah, it's empty." After finding the wolf not guilty, Boy17 walks onstage in a red riding hood cape dress and yells, "Officer, arrest that wolf," in a high voice.

Finally, the melodrama with Boy17 playing the sheriff with a large fake mustache held on with visible cellophane tape. Boy17 also directed with the aforementioned Danny and it was a fun little farce. Needless to say we were all able to stay awake through the last part in which our son/grandson was involved.

Old and Young

I probably shouldn't even be telling these stories, but here goes. Last night Pat (Husband2 ?) and I went over to my parents house spur of the moment, kind of, to socialize. Boy16 had mentioned that "someone is coming over tonight" and when I asked who and he said it was a girl we decided to clear out for awhile to give him some space. No girl has ever been here before except in a group with Boy17 who pals around with a couple of girls.

When we got to my parents, Mom was playing the piano and Dad was in basement. We called him to come upstairs and when he got there he collapsed in a chair completely gassed. I asked what was wrong as I had never seen him like this. This is the man who a year or two ago was riding his bicycle 4 miles up and down hills that I can't manage. His reply was something like, "Honey, I have heart failure, they don't call it Congestive anymore." For some reason, that struck me all at once like a death sentence and his mortality flashed before my eyes. I said, "No, no. That's fatal." Back at me came, "Life is fatal." Oh boy, this was just a conversation I was not ready for.

Now for the youth. While we were visiting at Cedar Drive, Boy16 called first to ask how to work the DVD so they could watch the movie, "Flight Plan." A bit later he called to say "something happened" and the plans fell through. If I ever thought in a million years any monkey business would be going on, I would never have left the house. He didn't ask us to, we thought we were just being nice. Later we come to find out, Boy16 and his friend picked up two sophomore girls at the movies who had to lie to their parents to spend time with the boys. Somehow, Boy16's date's parents must've got tipped off, and arrived at the door of our house to retrieve their daughter and give her and my son a beat down. He and his friends were laughing about it by the time we got home at 8:45 because the dad was a short bald guy who came in the house to deliver his tirade. Both our question was, "Is she Mormon?" Lesson learned for him and us. If that's the worst thing he does, we should be okay.

Don't read this if you think I might send you a Christmas Card

Greetings Family and Friends, December 2010
Forgive the self-indulgent Christmas letter; I will try not to brag too much while updating the Denecke-Tuttle status for those of you I have not socially networked with this year.
Adam is graduating from the University of Illinois at Springfield this December with a Bachelor’s in Psychology. He has been interning this semester at the National Alliance on Mental Illness office in Springfield. He seems to have found his niche in writing and has also assisted with the statewide conference in Peoria. His post graduation plans are a bit mysterious, but I think he is available for nationwide job opportunities. Graduate school is likely to be in his future.


Eli has applied to Illinois State University and University of Illinois for next fall and is awaiting acceptance and financial aid packages. He tinkers with any musical instrument he finds around the house and elsewhere (accordion, keyboards, concertina, drums, sax, harmonica, etc.). He recently made All-State honors in Orchestra. His garage band, Kasa del Phunk, plays locally and has recorded a 5 song EP. This will be good preparation for the career in music education he wishes to pursue. He was honored for four years in soccer when he actually only played two, but the coach teaches French, not math. Eli played the part of the drunken pharmacist in “It’s a Wonderful Life” whom George saves from making a fatal mistake.


Cal started varsity soccer at mid-field and played fall league baseball. He is now on to varsity basketball where he leads the team out for warm-ups and occasionally gets off the bench. This fall he hosted a Danish student and will be traveling to Copenhagen in March to spend spring break with Bjarke and his family (Eli previously hosted and visited his brother, Toke). Then he will move into baseball, his true love.


The three boys are in a height war (must be a guy thing) and fall in the 5’8” – 5’9” range, with Cal looking to take the lead and maybe improve his basketball playing time.
Pat continues in his 8th year with Spoon River College, advising students in classes and life. His office is a shrine to the Bills, which sparks some interesting conversations. He is approaching the big 5-0 and may go into hiding to avoid any attention that may bring.
I started a new job as a school social worker at a “micro urban” high school about an hour away. I work with kids labeled emotionally or behaviorally disordered. I do individual and group counseling, classroom observations, behavior goals and crisis intervention. In my spare time, I study cultural phenomena such as Facebook, the rise of Bristol Palin as teen activist and dance star, and the Michael Vick redemption.


Pearl will be 11 in March and trains for the title of Fattest Tail-less Cat in Macomb.



I am about out of space, so I will close with wishing you and yours a most blessed year in 2011 and do keep in touch.
Love, Susan, Pat, Adam, Eli and Cal

Firsts

Bjarke("his suit is sick")and Cal


Eli

It's hard to believe it is October with already 7 weeks of school behind us. Our Danish friend, Bjarke, has arrived and is fitting in perfectly with our family. This is Homecoming Week and it has been crazy busy. It is the first time I really feel I have been involved with Homecoming. Eli and Cal have both attended the dance and festivities before but as parents of boys, we are pretty much on the fringe. My involvement was limited to snapping a photo on their way out the door while Pat is assigned to necktie duty. In contrast, this year I was asked by Cal to shop for clothes (aka pay for) Tuesday night 25 minutes prior to the store closing. I also assisted Cal to pick out his date's corsage, but he did pay for that. Eli seems to have mastered that one.

Thursday night we found out Eli was selected for Homecoming Court at Stunt Night. It was tortuous to sit through, what with all the noise, crowd, and microphone deficiencies. Not to mention the goofy skits about the teachers which I could only marginally understand. Pat and I accompanied Eli onto the football field at halftime last night at the game. That was a surreal moment (he did bathe and shave from the early morning Braveheart battle in the river).

This year, Cal is grouped with a boy whose mother likes to talk, and so I was invited to send food to the dinner at her house, and to take pictures of the kids at a nursing home before the dinner. Sounds weird, and it wasn't altrustic of the kids either. I bet you're thinking they were doing some sort of fashion show for the old folks. Turns out it is just a pretty place for pictures outside with gazebo and fake picket bridge. Too bad is was 58 degrees and girls were barely clad. I snapped a few photos before receiving a panicked call from Eli to bring the car home, so he pick up his date. The other moms were on the 300th picture of the girls and there was no end in sight, so I left.

We were also invited to attend the coronation (?) at the dance this evening to take pictures, but it was really cold in the house and I took a hot shower, put on warm pajamas, and convinced myself that if I didn't belong at Homecoming when I was in high school, I certainly don't belong there now. Besides, a professional will take a perfectly fine picture and put it in the newspaper! That is the perfect amount of involvement for me.

A note on Bjarke (or "Barky" as Pat calls him): Bjarke is the brother of Toke who stayed with us for 11 days in 2007 and became good friends with Eli. He is sweet as his brother, charming and funny. He is taking in this experience with the abandon of a child at Christmas and it is so fun to be part of.


The boys with Cal and Bjarke


Dates: Cal's is on the left. I'm not sure if he is tall enough for her.

Back to School

It's that time again when I struggle to control my emotions. I actually liked school and was fairly good at it, but there's something scary in the start of each new year. I am challenged with a new job and have been at it a week. I wanted to work in the schools and my dream came true. So why is it so difficult? Fear of the unknown is mostly what I have come up with.

Boy(man?)/22 is getting his meager belongings together to go back to school today. He has a furnished apartment and there is not much needed. He survives on next to nothing anyway. It's hard to know how one goes seemingly without food, shampoo, laundry soap, etc. I mean, he has access to these things, but comes back at the end of the year with them still in his car.

The high school boys start back Wednesday but have their first soccer games Monday and Tuesday. Marching band is in full rehearsal as well. Getting their physicals and registration fees and lunch accounts set up, I discovered I neglected the car registration on the boys' shared car. So much to keep track of. My head is spinning and my stomach churning. I'll let ya know when things calm down a bit but for now, I better get busy living.

Details, details, the devil is in the details

These last few days before school/work starts are busy wtih appointments, errands, etc. Today I switched out cars with my parents. With the new commute, I felt a need to be comfortable so I will be driving a largish sedan rather than the rattle trap Corolla. More gas expense, but I hope it will save me some energy and be safer. I know, that sounds really stupid. So that involved transfering the junk in my trunk, license plates, title, registration, and notifying the insurance company. Insuring 3 young men is not a cheap proposition either.

I don't know how people live on one salary these days. The utilities and insurance are as much as a house payment. Supporting kids through college is another one. And there are now so many extraneous 'necessities' like cable and internet.

100 Degrees of Inferno

It was hotter than a marshmallow in a campfire today. Dejavu??

We departed on time with lunch packed and 9 aboard for Holiday World and Splashin' Safari, a huge theme park in the Hoosier National Forest. Sounds cool and comfortable doesn't it? Not so. It was death defyingly hot. Without the unlimited free drinks and sunscreen there would have been multiple heat strokes throughout the day (and that was just from me). The water park was not any relief at all as the water was all turned to jacuzzi temp and the lines for the slides 35-60 minutes long. The pavement was like walking over burning embers, there was no shade but we persevered. After about 3.5 hours we decided to try the amusement rides where maybe there would be some shade and shorter lines. The shade idea didn't really work out since it was still 110 degrees in the shade. We did ride the Voyage and it was the bad assest ride ever. The kids wanted to do it twice.

We be Trippin'

Highlight of my day: riding to dinner on the back of my BIL's motorcycle. The experience was a little cumbersome with two very heavy large helmets (required in Indiana but not in Kentucky). My head kept bumping against Chuck's when we would start and stop, and it was an extremely hot day, and it was a little difficult to hold my head on one side or the other of Chuck's so as to see where we were going. Other than getting used to that, and believe me, I wouldn't be out of the Interstate without a helmet these days, it was great fun. He rode me down around the Ohio River park development that has occurred over the last several years and I hadn't really explored that area yet.

So many things to do in Louisville. They have the new U of L arena erected, and it is a mighty fine structure. Some say it looks like an airstream trailer, but I'm not so sure. It is unique architecture anyway. The kids and some grown ups went to the Louisville Slugger museum in the morning and found something to new enjoy about it. They went maybe about 7 years ago. In the afternoon we went to Marengo Cave in southern Indiana. I was distracted by the tour guide's accent. She called the Ceiling, the Silling. Good formation and at 52 degrees was a great place to be in the afternoon.
Dinner was at Lynn's Paradise Cafe, an eclectic cornucopia of crap for decor. Interesting. I like playing with the little plastic animals in buckets on the table and the Find It. Food was somewhere in the B range.

We in the South: Diagnosis Hyperhidrosis

We are as far south as you can get in Indiana, but it feels souther. A 1.2 mile walk to the Falls of the Ohio State Park didn't sound bad yesterday, and I thought those carrying water bottles were wimps. So wrong. By the time we wandered around the fossil beds and walked back to sis's house, we were all drenched including me, who is usually a pretty light sweater. Sitting in a/c all day then was a little uncomfortable with wet clothes on. Our afternoon activity was the water park across the road, Atlantis, which Pat carried out with the five kids. I stayed to help Betsy shop and cook the famous "Hot Brown Sandwiches" I had requested (a Louisville classic). We had 14 open face toasted smothered pockets for 13 people so we were a little stingy with the kids. Turned out they loved them and were turned down in their requests for more. After the adults ate, we actually had 1 1/2 left over. Bummer. Never get the food thing right. Game night had to be divided between two rooms and two games but fun nonetheless.

Pat and I found a cute little coffee shop called "Perk-fection" and breakfasted there yesterday. He decided to cut out early and left this morning, not interested in the Louisville Slugger Museum followed by Marengo Cave this afternoon. Mom, Dad and I stayed back to study (me) and grill hot dogs for lunch between outings.

Spillage on Grant Street

This is my bad ass blue leg.

Nothing weird ever happens to me, but today I fell off my bicycle (Ginnie beware). Actually, when I think about it, I'm a little surprised it didn't happen sooner. So, I turned onto this semi busy street, looking behind me to possibly turn left a block or so up and there is a string of cars there. They seem to be following me at my 15 mph pace waiting for me to go left (there is no street to turn onto yet, mind you). I wave them past me, and again they hesitate, but eventually start passing me, and I feel like they are now trying to run me off the road. I decide to turn into a driveway and wait until they pass to cross the road (and take the safer sidewalk) but there is a pool of water at the bottom of the driveway and a slight grade up. My front tire completely turned around and I found myself awkwardly planted on the concrete with my ankle scraped (no blood) and what I know will be badly bruised. I already have the appearance of a hemophiliac ever since I started taking prophylactic aspirin daily. Luckily, none of the cars stopped to make a scene, but a lady a few houses down getting her garbage can asked if I was all right.

Safety plan: eventually I will have to get a helmet, but when you ride at the pace I do, it just looks stupid. I could always use the beautiful sidewalk on this particular street, but I feel it was put there for walkers, and there are quite a few I would offend. Other than that, I will be a little more tentative and aware of those routes that make me a little uncomfortable.

Thursday

I have finished my one and one half hours of studying for my social work licensing exam (an optional step I am fool enough to pursue) tonight so I am free to do whatever. Whatever has been, sorting through scrapbook pictures/papers/etc. in preparation for tomorrow night's class, checking Facebook to see that there are still no new exciting stuff going on in the world, picking a large bucket of corn in a field, riding around in the 1968 International Harvester truck, looking up a Weight Watchers recipe and getting distracted by a new blog called "Simply Nurtured." The writing was good although I am in a very different life stage than the author. I guess in my young parenting days I was experimenting with different parental philosophies, too, so I shouldn't be critical of differences in that area. I have become much more conservative in my parenting, though I seem to have little need to discipline or intervene in my children's lives at this point. Maybe I just think other parents should be a little more authoritarian with their children, even if I was not. My tolerance for other people's children has never been as high as for that of my own, which may explain it.

So, my goal is to study 1 1/2 hours daily and take the exam on August 9. That means working on my so-called vacation. As if the entire summer since May 28 hasn't been one big VACATION. We are going down to spend time with my sister in Southern Indiana the first of August.

Saga

Okay, I admit I am hooked on the Twilight movies. As much as the picture above might infer, I am not, however, one of those bizarre Twi-Moms that I think should be kept away from all teenage boys. I found the first Twilight book to be quite mediocre and so I did not pursue reading the series as many of my friends (admittedly younger than me) did. I really enjoyed the first movie, I think the music had a lot to do with it. It was very artfully done. The actors were all new to me, fresh, and very interesting. I thought the second movie was just stupid and created to promote Taylor Lautner's abs. There's something creepy about 30 and 40something women gushing over a 17 year old boy's body. So, I'll leave it at that. The ending was really dumb and furthers the ridiculous notion that girls need only live to marry the man of their dreams and they will live happily ever after. Balderdash!

That brings me to movie #3. When I first heard about the infamous "tent scene" (I won't ruin it for y'all who haven't seen it and plan to) I immediately thought of Guinevere and her evening with King Arthur and Lancelot all in bed together. That would set off some bells in less constricted women than I! The idea of the love triangle kept my attention nonetheless and was well acted (very palpable performance by Lautner), though I am tiring of Edward's incessant whispering/brooding/depressed characterizations. I loved the opening of the movie, because I know Robert Frost is not high brow poetry, but I adore him anyway.

On a hot summer day, with my old work pals, Twilight was a perfect distraction from life's realities. I do understand, as a female, how it has captured a huge audience as it evokes those long dormant romantic feelings from youth and provides an escape from the ho hum grind of daily life for many women. It also may have to do with the fantasy of being dominated ("changed" "imprinted") by a man.

But who are these men who go to Twilight and unashamedly join teams? And, please, for the sake of humanity, grown women, stop having adult Twilight parties and get a job or a life. You are setting a bad example for your daughters.

Post 6

This picture (you might want to click on this to enlarge) post should probably go under my "Arm Meat" blog. That is where I wistfully engage in discourse on motherhood, the boys growing up, and the passage of time. This summer Boy15 (soon to be 16) is playing Legion baseball for the first time. His classmates have a strong affinity for baseball and so there were enough boys this year for junior legion team (17 and under). He has gotten to start most games at 2nd base and Pat caught him in the picture below starting a successful double play.



On Friday I drove with him to Morton for a game. It was a super hot evening, well maybe not truly that hot, but since there was no shade and no concessions, only a warm water fountain, it was pretty much a sweat and sunburn fest. Afterwards, Boy15 wanted to look around some stores for birthday presents since he will not be getting the now expected CAR on his 16th birthday. He seems okay with that. Boy15 is definitely my pro social kid. We talked the whole evening and it was very enjoyable for me and I think for him. He remembers the most minute details and we had fun reminiscing about different vacations and experiences we have had.



While Boy17 was away at music camp this week, I got at his bedroom. It seems a lot easier for me to throw away other people's belongings than my own. Above you will see a large fish pillow that Boy17 had in the back of his closet. He used it for many years on his bed, but now it is just collecting dust (and this boy is on allergy meds and shots for dust and grass, kind of hard to avoid, huh?). I've found that I can throw things out easier if I take a picture when the articles have sentimental value. So here ya go.

I attended Boy17's final concert on Saturday in Urbana where he was first chair Senior Symphonic Band on trumpet. He had solos in English Folk Song Suite. One sounded just like the melody "and a partridge in a pear tree." He did a great job and again, I could see his three fingers moving on the valves and I wondered how my little baby toddler grew up so fast. They played a wonderful piece called "Satiric Dances" by Dello Joio, which the first movement was really awesome. Very fast and eerie. Boy17 said he knew I would like that one, based on our previous discussions about music. I'm sorry I didn't take my camera into the concert hall, as the students and conductor posed for a photo op. Darn. I was in a little hurry when I arrived only 10 minutes before the start of the concert and forgot it. It was a very nice day and ride home with just Boy17 and me talking all about his experiences at camp and future plans for college.

thanksgiving 2008?

This could be 2007. At any rate Uncle Cal and I have both aged quite a bit. Maybe if I died my hair a little more frequently and Uncle put on 20 pounds we would be back to this state. haha