What's A Boy To Do?

Apparently Drama has run into a bit of it .... I'm assuming. Here was to be my guest post, I'll pop it on here so as not to lose it:


The Passion Of Life

Now I have to admit that when I signed up for the guest-post scheme I did so with the expectation of an unexpected twist from our ring-leader, Mr FadesTN. Or Fuzz Boy, whichever you prefer. It was a rather unexpected twist that he did not throw in some sort of twist so I suppose I got what I bargained for.
Sorry for analyzing this instead of just writing, it's what I do. Endlessly. Tirelessly. Frustratingly.Obnoxiously.
Then again, I got so much more than what I bargained for when doing my research for this piece. From the get-go I made a decision to read through the blog so-assigned and try and find out as much as possible about the blog I was to guest at and, naturally, the owner there-of so that I could perhaps write about something related to something that person was interested in. As such it was delightful to learn that I'd have good reason to spend some quality time with a new and exciting blog, one so very different from my own. To be sure there are very real commonalities yet some very real differences:
I am relatively reserved, rather obnoxious, sometimes a bit callous, and always on guard. She is open, kind hearted, caring, and spirited.
I write about everyday life, observations, family, church, gardens, work, and issues.
She writes about relationships, friends (when able to have them. read the blog, it'll make sense), work, family, and socializing.
So in all of that there are some commonalities, some areas where we have some common interest here in the mostly anonymous world.
But before we go there, just a few more observations. She writes about drama in her life and, like any of us, she has plenty but what strikes me more than anything is the passion in both her writing and in her relationships. She throws herself fully into both with a true passion, almost reckless abandon, expecting the same from the object(s) of her passion. And rightly so, for she gives so much of herself in each.
So what would be the result were she and I to meet in real life? Probably not much 'cause I'd be all "gardening is so relaxing and so much fun" and she'd be all "who do you garden with? What are they like and do you think I could meet them?" and I'd be all "Well the corn is kinda anti-social and the beets don't have much to say. The bees and birds are always chattering but it's mostly gibberish. And don't get me started on those blasted squirrels!" and she'd be all "Whatever. Enough of this, where's Queenie? Or one of the daughters? Anyone but this stiff!". And that'd be about it ...... Then again, maybe not. I get the feeling she might even get me to be human and all, even if only for a little while. Such is the power of passion.
So what does one write in the midst of all of that passion and connecting when one has difficulty connecting? Since there are no rules, how about if we just leave it at that? Hey, FTN made 'em, don't holler at me!
Just kidding. But seriously, what can I write that will fit well with the body of work here?
Options:
- That silly old garden: I think we covered that fairly well. Moving on.
- Work: Nope, not really passionate about that anymore.
- Sports!: Nope, not hardly a hint of that here. Besides, I'm not really passionate about it. Though ya gotta love my Giants!
- Relationships: Yeah, like I could do that justice here .......
So that leaves us with one topic that both she and I are both passionate about: offspring, children, parenting. And I think that fits, it's obvious that Drama has a lot of passion for being a mother, a mother to Bug. Now there I can at least hold my own even in the world of passion, so how about I give it a go? You don't mind if I steal from myself some, do you? Here are a few of my favorite things about being a father:
- Watching as she makes you Dad. Just by being. And Dad shed a tear. Or two.
- That darling little dress, the one that would barely fit your fore-arm, that she wore home. For the first time.
- The giggles
- The first time she says Da da da da da da da da da
- Those first few wiggles we proudly call a crawl
- That step. You know, the first one where pure force of all your mental powers hold her up for an unassisted step. Or two. And holding her in your arms after until the tears stop.
- The first boo-boo
- That first un-soiled diaper.
- Her first: butterfly, worm, ant, beetle, spider, etc
- Hearing the alphabet recited more beautifully than ever in history
- Having a helper (or two) on Mother's Day
- Yes, that really is her name, right there on that paper. trust me.
- Her first (of thousands) bus ride
- A tooth under the pillow
- Her first fight
- Doctor, Dentist, ER
- Puppies and kitties and birdies, squirrels and bunnies and chipmunks
- Tea parties, birthday parties
- The melodic first few notes from her shiny new instrument. Oh, and the concerts concerts concerts
- Cheer leading, soccer games, days at the park
- Bug bites, bee stings, scrapes, scratches, sunburn, broken bones
- Pony tales, Barney (OK, maybe not), Veggie Tales, and (ick) Barbie
- Frilly dresses, shiny new shoes, bows and lace
- Growing, learning, arguing
- Mud, dirt, and chores chores chores
- Homework, projects, papers, grades, awards, and hard work
- Friends and fun
- Friends and hurt
- Hunting, fishing, hiking, boating, camping
- Driving (driving?), thinking, choosing
- Boys. Boys? No thanks, maybe next year ...
- Working WITH them instead of just ON them.
- Learning FROM them instead of them FROM you.
- And then they were adults. And off to college.
And Dad shed a tear. Or two. Again. Certainly not the first and by no means the last.
To parent requires a whole new kind of passion, a natural yet not quite instinctual passion but a passion nonetheless. Every day a new milestone and every day a new frustration and it all rolls together as the years roll on until you begin to get confused over what age, what year things happened and why and how. But you never forget, not for a second, that moment in time when you were first introduced to each one. And not knowing a thing about them, just knowing life. And you were changed in an instant into something you were not just moments before. Role model. Teacher. Guide. Guardian! Authority. Servant. Parent? Wow.
And there's no going back. Once you are Father, once you are Mother you are for good. You may not feel ready, may not feel qualified, but that is immaterial. You are. You can and you must do your best, be passionate of this if not of anything else. How do you show your passion?

Where For Art Thou Drama?

I hope everything is OK in Drama land. My guest post was sent to her last known address on Thursday but it appears, perhaps, that there may ne more drama in her life. I hope all is well?

Check Drama now and again, it may show up yet! And Drama, if I need to resend it please let me know.

Hard Headed

Some lessons you learn as a kid are easy. Some, not so much. Sometimes it takes a lot to get through to kids. Sometimes it's just not enough for mom to say, "Because I said so." Sometimes she needs a little reinforcement. Such was the case when I received my first bicycle.

It wasn't a brand new bike, but it was still pretty cool: royal blue with a leopard print vinyl banana seat. It was 1967 and I felt like the hippest kid on the block. Much too cool to have to just ride this groovy bike up and down my street. This was the kind of bike that the whole neighborhood had to see. Sure it was important to me to obey my mother, but who was I to deny the rest of the neighborhood?

So on one of my many rides, I rode my bike down the street, checking over my shoulder to make sure no one was watching where I was going. At that moment my mother's voice spoke in my mind, "There is always someone watching you." But I ignored it and rode on, turned the corner, and started down a street I had never been down before, not by myself anyway.

Soon I was on the back side of the neighborhood (it wasn't a large neighborhood at the time) and I was beginning to feel a mixture of freedom and apprehension. This was an adventure! I had taken my bike on the forbidden path and no one had seen me do it. But I also wasn't home yet. What if Mom was standing in the yard waiting on me when I got back? What was I going to do then?

I turned another corner and started the last leg of my loop around the whole neighborhood (at 5 years old it seemed a lot bigger). I rode on the right side of the street, close to the curb. Then I heard a car coming up behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw a light blue Chevy pickup coming my way. I looked down at my front tire and made sure I was as close to the curb as I could get. That was the last thing I remember before waking up in the ambulance.
According to the man driving the truck, apparently I pulled out in front of him, the truck hit me, and threw me 30 feet through the air. (A week later, at a garage sale, I found out that I had landed in this guy's yard. But he picked me up and took me across the street, because he didn't want me in his yard. He actually told me that! Can you imagine?!) I suffered a concussion, but that was about it. No broken bones or anything major.
Anyway, so the lesson learned was what my Mother had been quoting my entire life (all 5 years of it): "Children obey your parents that your life will be long." At least that's the way I heard it in my head once we got home from the hospital. And it was important for me to be obedient ever since.




From our lovely guest for today, Phyllis Renee. Thank you!

For Those Who Saw The Prom Pics ....

A bit more of the bragging thing .....

Queenie has added a video from a recent news cast profiling Oddkin and her volunteer work.

Bring up the Prom pics, then: Click "Go back to ....." on the left

Then click on "Community Service Awards".

As an added bonus, there is also a "Graduation" selection if you wanna peek at Sensible's graduation from last year ......

That is all.

Speaking Of Teaching Your Children .....

While it's only a symptom rather than a cause, I just gotta say something about what I saw this morning.

This morning we attended the very last parade that will have a Summit High-Schooler in the band. It was a good parade, the 'kids' sounded great and there were (a couple) more attractions than there were political vote-beggers. We got there early after dropping off Oddkin and spent a nice hour at a local coffee shop before the parade, just chatting. The weather was terrific:

http://weather.yahoo.com/forecast/USNY0466.html

and the crowd was nice. There were some neat looking and tasting things available from the vendors and everyone was in a good mood. Details on the fest are at:

http://www.owegostrawberryfestival.com/

and we enjoy it every year.

But what got me were all of the girls on display. Junior High and High School age girls. Folks, you just gotta get a full-length mirror and teach (force) your daughters to use it, bend and twist in front of it before they're allowed out the door. I saw some things today that only a husband should see. There were the girls sitting on the curb with their low-rises and going commando. Plumbers butt is much cuter on a teen than a plumber but is still much less appropriate. And lest you think otherwise, a thong is even worse. I'm just saying. When a young 'lady' sits on the curb with her legs folded up to her chest with low-rise, well, there's nothing left to imagine. Same is true for the ones with a tight tank-top and nothing underneath. And what do you say when (incompetent) Mom is sitting next to her dressed nearly identical? How do you explain these things?

The real kicker was the one with the cute dog. Queenie headed right over to see the dog so I followed. Young lady seemed dressed a bit more appropriate than the rest until the dog jumped up on me and she bent over the dog (cutting into my view of him) to scold him. Replaced by the view of the slobbering dog was, well, everything. She had a loose-fitting sundress and nothing on underneath. NOTHING. Anywhere. and as I averted my eyes they landed on ... a row of butt crack. Then I looked up and away, walked away, and thanked God that Queenie and I think alike along these lines, that our daughters 'bought into' our thought process, and that as far as I can tell other than accidental exposure only their husbands will know them in a way that this young 'lady' is sharing herself. And yes, I went back and whispered something to her mother about appropriateness and such. And she rolled her eyes at me and said 'Whatever'. Mission accomplished ......

Oye, as much as I'm freaked out by living long enough to have adult daughters I am truly thankful we have made it thus far as we have.

And whilst I'm at it, teach your boys to avert their eyes, another teaching that seemingly has fallen by the way-side.

Teach them folks, teach them well.

Teach Your Children Well

And guard them like a treasure. Having two daughters and having watched them grow into adults this story simply hurts my heart. I can't even imagine ....

http://abcnews.go.com/US/wireStory?id=5208971


Mass. Girls May Have Made Pact to Get Pregnant
Girls in New England fishing town may have made a pact to get pregnant
By MELISSA TRUJILLO Associated Press Writer
GLOUCESTER, Mass. June 20, 2008 (AP)
The Associated Press

A local television reporter conducts a noon hour stand-up report outside Gloucester High School, where school officials say a teenage pregnancy pact between female students occurred during this past school year, in Gloucester, Mass., Friday afternoon, June 20, 2008. The pact made by a group of teens to get pregnant and raise their babies together is at least partly behind a sudden spike in pregnancies, according to official sources. Gloucester schools are currently on summer break.
The girls showed up repeatedly at the high school health clinic, asking for pregnancy tests. But their reactions to the test results were puzzling: high-fives if they were expecting, long faces if they weren't.
School officials in this hard-luck New England fishing town say an alarming 17 girls — four times the usual number — became pregnant this year. And even more disturbing: Some of the girls may have made a pact to have babies and raise them together.
"A typical girl you would think would say, `Oh my God! What am I going to do now? How am I going to support this baby? How am I going to finish school?'" Superintendent Christopher Farmer said. "These young women clearly have not seen that."
The story exploded after Joseph Sullivan, the principal of Gloucester High School, was quoted by Time magazine this week as saying the girls confessed to making such a pact. Sullivan was on vacation Friday and did not return calls for comment.
The superintendent said he had no independent confirmation of a pact. But he added: "What we do know is there was a group of students being tested for pregnancy on a regular basis, which would suggest they were not taking steps to avoid becoming pregnant, and that when some of them had their babies, they appeared to be very pleased."
None of the girls or their families have come forward to confirm any type of pact, and school and health officials have not identified any of the youngsters.
The girls are all 16 or under, nearly all of them sophomores. The superintendent said they have been reluctant to identify the fathers, many of whom are older. But one of them "is a 24-year-old homeless guy," the principal was quoted as telling Time.
City and school officials in this town of about 30,000 people 30 miles north of Boston have been struggling for months to explain and deal with the pregnancies, where on average only four girls a year at the 1,200-student high school become pregnant.

Definitions

ADULT: A person who has stopped growing at both ends and is now growing in the middle.
BEAUTY PARLOR: A place where women curl up and dye.
CANNIBAL: Someone who is fed up with people.
CHICKENS: The only animals you eat before they are born and after they are dead.
COMMITTEE: A body that keeps minutes and wastes hours.
DUST: Mud with the juice squeezed out.
EGOTIST: Someone who is usually me-deep in conversation.
HANDKERCHIEF: Cold Storage.
INFLATION: Cutting money in half without damaging the paper.
MOSQUITO: An insect that makes you hate flies less.
PROCRASTINATION: The greatest labor-saving device ever invented.
RAISIN: Grape with a sunburn.
SECRET: Something you tell to one person at a time.
SKELETON: A bunch of bones with the person scraped off.
TOOTHACHE: The pain that drives you to extraction.
TOMORROW: One of the greatest labour saving devices of today. See: Procrastination.
YAWN: An honest opinion openly expressed.
WRINKLES: Something other people have.

Let The Harvest Commence!

Just something to keep in mind: Rather than posting garden long-shots in every garden update I'll be replacing the garden pic in my header once or twice each week. Just so ya know.




So the harvest started last night with a bit of lettuce:



Green and as sweet as it gets. Dinner with salad.













And peas galore. this was about half of my haul. All it took was a bit of rain to plump 'em up overnight.

And here's the left-overs, much of which went into the compost pile but a decent amount was consumed by the dog. Luke loves he some vegetables, particularly peas and carrots.

And here is what we will enjoy with dinner tonight. Mmm mmm good.

It's Good To Know The Truth

Even better to get your wish. The Summit FD saga actually begins on Friday when a message is received. Seems the new music director has had the entire setup at Church re-arranged:

- "But we can work things out Sunday morning. At 8AM. 'Cause the rest of the weekend is busy."
- "Everything is hooked up correctly" (from the new guy who doesn't even know what everything IS)
- "Call me, we'll talk about it"
- "Sunday my mic has to be loudest so I can lead, make the other singers just in the background"


Naturally when I popped into church that evening, well, there was much grumbling. And gnashing of teeth. And growling. It took over an hour and a half to make the mess workable and would require at least that to get the system rebalanced Sunday morning because Xi's Saturday was full already.


So Father's day arrived with Xi out of bed at 7AM to get ready for his morning. Queenie and the girls decided to go in and get breakfast while he was fixing the world so they dumped him off at 7:50. See, Oddkin was on the hook to run the sound system so Xi wanted to make sure she had every chance to be successful. Besides, what could be better than working with your daughter on Father's day? As expected it took more than an hour and a half to re-equalize, re balance, and adjust the system for the service during which time the music director reiterated his need to be THE prominent voice in the mix. Later the Pastor was not happy about that. Oh well! Just following orders .... :)

Other than a couple simple glitches things went well from the sound side so I was happy. Queenie invited some good friends to join us for lunch at a restaurant she likes and that was OK. Then we headed home about 4PM which is when Father's Day started for me. Then about 6PM it ended when we had to clean the house for some of Queenie's friends she had invited for the evening. But I got to work with both daughters, so it was all good.

Had a good evening visiting, then off to bed.

So what was yours like?

The Truth About Father's Day

... is that I really don't like it. Not a lot, anyhow. It just doesn't do it for me.

What does it for me is:
- Watching as she makes you Dad. Just by being. And Dad shed a tear. Or two.
- That darling little dress, the one that would barely fit your fore-arm, that she wore home. For the first time.
- The giggles
- The first time she says Da da da da da da da da da
- Those first few wiggles we proudly call a crawl
- That step. You know, the first one where pure force of all your mental powers hold her up for an unassisted step. Or two. And holding her in your arms after until the tears stop.
- The first boo-boo
- That first un-soiled diaper. Right Therese?
- Her first: butterfly, worm, ant, beetle, spider, etc
- Hearing the alphabet recited more beautifully than ever in history
- Having a helper (or two) on Mother's Day
- Yes, that really is her name, right there on that paper. trust me.
- Her first (of thousands) bus ride
- A tooth under the pillow
- Her first fight
- Doctor, Dentist, ER
- Puppies and kitties and birdies, squirrels and bunnies and chipmunks
- Tea parties, birthday parties
- The melodic first few notes from her shiny new instrument. Oh, and the concerts concerts concerts
- Cheer leading, soccer games, days at the park
- Bug bites, bee stings, scrapes, scratches, sunburn, broken bones
- Pony tales, Barney (OK, maybe not), Veggie Tales, and (ick) Barbie
- Frilly dresses, shiny new shoes, bows and lace
- Growing, learning, arguing
- Mud, dirt, and chores chores chores
- Homework, projects, papers, grades, awards, and hard work
- Friends and fun
- Friends and hurt
- Hunting, fishing, hiking, boating, camping
- Driving (driving?), thinking, choosing
- Boys. Boys? No thanks, maybe next year ...
- Working WITH them instead of just ON them.
- Learning FROM them instead of them FROM you.
- And then they were adults. And Dad shed a tear. Or two Again. Certainly not the first and by no means the last.

And that, folks, is why I do not care for Father's day. Because Father's day is so full of Father stuff that the important stuff seldom happens on that one day. It's not about me, it's about them, about who they are and what they've become and what they will be. It's about them.

Pardon me, I gotta get back to see what they'll do next. It's what I live for.

The Good Wife

Social Services

That was my yesterday. Talking with social services trying to convince them that my mother may prefer to live in clutter but she's not demented, deranged, and living in filth. Not an easy task.

From my earliest memories Mom has always had a cluttered household. When it comes to housekeeping she simply does not have an organized bone in her body, thus it is that there is always clutter and a couple times a year she does what she calls "landscaping" to keep it under control. As she ages this task has become more difficult but is one she will not allow her sons to participate in. Thus it was that I suggested she hire someone to come in and help with basic house organization on a regular basis.

After asking around some she found out that there are, locally, actual agencies that provide exactly what she needs. Or so it seemed. She requested assistance and an evaluator came out. One that should not be in this business. All I know is she arrived and took a look around. Then she told Mom that there was help for her, she would just need someone to straighten out the 'big' stuff first, then they would assign someone to come every week to assist. Seemed pretty simple.

An hour later my sister-in-law who is out of town receives a call saying Mom is living in squalor in an uninhabitable trailer with no clean dishes. Not only that, but she lives on piles of trash and is hoarding possessions, garbage, and food. On top of that she needs a mental evaluation because she sets her food out to 'air out' before she will eat it. Oh, and there's a foul smell 'from the garbage' that made the 'caseworker' ill.

I received a voicemail while in a meeting saying that there are serious concerns about Mom's independent living that need immediate attention. I call back and the woman says simply that Moms trailer is very cluttered and if I get the big things organized the agency will hire someone to do the rest.

Big Brother received a phone call 'of concern' for Mom but nothing else.

Queenie receives a call at home from a Government agency saying that they have a report that Mom is living in squalor and asking what I am going to do about it. I called them back and explained the situation and assured her that we would get the help Mom needed but also cautioned her to be careful. Mom was hesitant to contact a help agency for fear of this very thing and, if the agencies did not take care, Mom would never take assistance again. Which is true. I also asked her why it was that so much fuss was being made when Mom knew she needed help and took steps to get that help. Doesn't that show, perhaps, that Mom is somewhat competent, maybe even cognizant of her situation? And if that was the case, why were case files being opened all across the County?

Knuckleheads.
-Other than the small trash can and a bag of recyclables in the kitchen Mom does not have garbage strewn around. She has clutter. Possessions that she has not put away.
- There is a smell in her trailer- old-people smell. With a hint of bleach from cleaning!
- No one bothered to look in the cupboards to see that there were, in fact, plenty of clean dishes. Only a mental midget would assume there were no clean dishes just because Mom hadn't washed the dishes from breakfast and lunch yet. She has always and will always do dishes once each and every day, no more no less. Open a freakin' cupboard!
- And she does air out her food before eating it, every time. She has a sensitive nose and has always let her food 'breathe' before making her meal.

At this point the situation is somewhat diffused and Mom even managed to locate someone to come and help every week. Someone who took one look and agreed that the agencies over-reacted terribly. Even offered to sign a statement to that effect should things escalate again. So here's hoping it all dies down but then again, now she's 'in the system' and that means she'll stay somewhere on the radar likely for the rest of her life. Joy.

And onward we go ...... minus a lost Tuesday.

The Truth About Poo - Too

Nothing will ever rival the first installment of this series but in the interest of sharing, here is another bit of poo lore for your reading pleasure.

For many years (i.e. a couple decades) I regularly helped out in the nursery at Church. Every 2-3 months I'd get a shift, sometimes with Queenie and other times with rookie men who were either just getting into nursery help or were soon to be first-time fathers. The idea was simple- I'd been doing baby duty since I was 15 and could make a man more comfortable about learning the necessary techniques. Over the years it went fairly well though there were a few times when men who just "didn't have it" (i.e. not kid-people) came along that not even I could manage.

Out story today is about a man who I was certain wouldn't make it. He would never be the man who let the wife go off for the weekend while he took care of the kids, things were going that bad. Then one day .....

One day it was time. Time to teach him about diapers. Tricks of the trade:
- Never remove the old diaper until the new one is ready and waiting.
- Clean thoroughly but quickly and always be ready to clamp the diaper down
- Check for redness and irritation
- Always provide a preferred toy to keep the kid's attention
You know, all the standard stuff. He had seen me do it several times at the end of our first two shifts together and I figured this was it, this was his time. And what better time than with the most cooperative even tempered kid in the nursery? Who had a wet, not chunky diaper?

And he did well- prepared the fresh diaper, set out the necessary cleaning essentials, obtained the prized toy, played with the young feller once he was on the table. All was going well so he went right to it, albeit while only touching the offending diaper with his fingertips to spare the balance of his hand from being soiled. You know the kind. So he managed the cleaning and 'inspection' task, then curled the old diaper and quickly reached to swap the new diaper in place. And that's when he made his fatal mistake causing even the most even tempered of children to strike instinctively. See, as he removed the old diaper with his left hand he grasped the new diaper with his right hand and moved to the toddler's feet in order to get his right hand in place to install the fresh diaper. The child, sensing the kill, proceeded to release an explosive batch of diarrhea at precisely the moment of vulnerability. Some kids got real talent!

Naturally our victim was wearing tan slacks and an off-white shirt. And when the deluge hit the fresh diaper fell from his grasp and he tried in vain to stem the tide with his palm only managing to make sure, um, his face and shoes were not spared. Nor two other children toddling nearby. The look of pure mortification on his face was pure comedy causing me to laugh out loud and he soon followed.

For him it was a turning point. It really could have gone either way but after that he decided that perhaps he'd seen the worst and lived and so chose to become the Dad all men should be, even sending Mom off for freedom weekends.

Initiation indeed.

(Thanks Therese for the inspiration)

Garden Update- Quad

I know I just done one of these but things changed so much over the weekend it had to be reported. We've had some steamy weather (nothing like silentMale lives in) with highs in the 90's, wandering thunder storms and rain, and humidity tipping the scales causing some things to jump. Like weeds.

Tomatoes have finally shaken off the frost burn and are shooting up:

And the squash, etc, that are getting a good start:

The lettuce is in danger of being overgrown with weeds:

The peas are doing quite well:

They're even starting to form pods:

The 'taters are really taking off, probably the only thing in the garden that's well ahead of the weeds:

And the obligatory long-shot where you see my frost covers are still not taken care of. Did I ever mention my lazy streak?

Just Another Anniversary Weekend

After twenty two of 'em it's at the point where I only remember some of 'em.


There was the first one where I surprised her and took her to Niagara Falls for the weekend.

The second one I surprised her again and took her for a weekend to a bed & breakfast overlooking Cayuga Lake right next to Taughannock Falls.

Over the next several years I took her to various Bed & Breakfasts around the region.

The final stay away was our eleventh anniversary when we returned to Niagara Falls, this time to a B&B. Since that time, for various reasons (money, opportunity, stupidity) we have not returned to our weekend getaways. I do, however, try to set aside some time each year just for us. Her, not so much but that's another story.


So Saturday was our 22nd . After taking Oddkin to work at 7AM I returned home to prepare a simple breakfast in bed for Queenie:

Mmmm, Dutch Babies with Strawberries, blueberries, and peaches. If anyone wants the recipe just click the link. Quick and easy, no real skill necessary. Trust me.

The first catch of the day: Queenie was already up by the time I got home. No biggy, I made breakfast just the same to go with coffee and juice and we sat and chatted (translated: ate while she watched HGTV) until oops, she forgot to tell me she had to go to Church for several hours. While she showered I placed her flowers and card on the dresser. Then off she went to Church. I guess that was my surprise!

So while she was gone Big Brother and I drove out to a friend of his and took a nice long walk through fields and woods up to the hilltop just because we could. Along the way we encountered a bird's nest in the tall grass:

I do apologize for not snapping a pic of the view or of the blueberry patch we walked through, we were so busy chatting it never crossed my mind until now.

We returned to the house around 3PM and Queenie and Oddkin arrived 15 minutes later. We chatted some and Queenie sat down at the computer to do more Church work while I did some cleaning around the house. Then we got changed to leave for a parade Oddkin was in.

After the parade Queenie took Oddkin and Sensible to their cousin's graduation party while I stayed home and puttered in the garden. They all arrived home shortly before eleven, about the time I headed to bed. Queenie came up shortly after and thanked me for such a nice day, then fell asleep.

Sunday we had our normal Sunday scramble only slightly complicated by our new music director who, as it would have to be, is not a great communicator or really very personable to work with. He was under pressure so I won't say (yet) that he's unappreciative but the initial evidence ... well .... anyhow.

We went to lunch with some friends then headed back home for a nap and some rest. Sensible and Oddkin went out to a friend's house for a video and some fun and I took Queenie out for a movie and dinner. Overall an OK weekend. 22nd indeed.