And it’s only at the very beginning of camp season that you’ll hear me say anything as complimentary as “mmmm” when I bite into a sloppy joe. (Actually, I ate this one alone, so no one heard me this time.)
Doesn’t this picture just make you want to sit down and eat a meal in the camp dining hall?
Malin comes up with some deeply theological thoughts sometimes. Lately, it seems like she’s been popping out a new one every night when I come to pray with her and tuck her into bed. I wrote a couple of them down.
I was asked to bring this to Julia’s baby shower on Saturday. Kind of makes a person feel famous to make the item that everyone wants the recipe for. 
I did a double recipe for the shower, and used half margarine, half butter. If I was doing a single recipe, I’d use all butter – just because the only thing I like about margarine is the price.
Last evening, Wesley filled his plate with his favorites from the “leftover buffet,” then did his best to make sure I didn’t worry about his health. “Look mom, I’m having a balanced meal!
Well… by now it’s probably official. This summer will make our 10th year of living here and directing Bethel Camp. At the board meeting this morning, Roger is committing us to another 5-year term.
So, for those of you who are waiting for a new camp director to step in, go find yourselves another camp.
For those of you who are worried that we’re going to pack up and leave Kentucky…. we’ve given our word now. We’re not going anywhere.
So there we all were: humoring Wesley by building a fire so he could roast his spelling book on this next-to-the-last day of school. Of course, after a beautiful sunny day, just as our flames were starting to build up, we started feeling the patterings of raindrops. Do you think that fazed my husband the pioneer? Of course not. He just kept splitting his logs and building up the fire. And so we roasted our marshmallows, dodging the spelling book that was being shoved all around in the fire (for maximum burn time, I’m sure.)
And while I was letting the kids eat a lot more marshmallows than they usually get, Roger was very quiet and busy on the other side of the fire. I didn’t even notice. (Although I was surprised that he didn’t seem at all upset at Wesley’s announcement of, “I’ve had eight marshmallows already!”)
Last evening, for some reason, I was pondering the deep and meaningful question, “What is it that I find romantic?” And I couldn’t come up with anything. Seriously. I thought maybe that side of me had flown away when I stepped into my thirties.
I changed my mind this evening. I was off in my own little fire-world when I heard Wesley saying (slowly and thoughtfully) as he stared into the fire, “I love…..” Judah came up with the missing bit of the sentence. “….Ruthie.” (in an almost disdainful tone of voice that might have implied, “What else would Daddy finish that sentence with?”)
They watched the whole process. Here’s a picture of the end result.
And that is something that I find romantic.
Most evenings, I can drink a cup of full-caffeine coffee and go straight to sleep afterwards. But if I drink an evening mug of coffee and then sit down to write, my mind goes crazy and I’m up all night. What’s up with that?
And what now? Do I go to bed and try not to think about all the things I want to write down? Or do I sit here at the computer and wish that I was asleep?
oh well…
I’ve been sent to the computer to order replacement blades for Roger’s planer. Sounds dangerous to me…
At Lowe’s this morning, he picked up the very last set of replacement blades and noticed that they had been opened. So, he carefully pulled the blades out and examined them, and what do you think he found? Someone had taken out the new blades, replaced them with their old (extremely dull) blades and returned them to Lowe’s for a refund. I guess that’s one way of making $50. But what kind of jerk does that??
I just learned that the replacement blades for the DeWalt 735 planer are the “toner cartridges of woodworking.” Poor Roger – he’s doomed to buy these pricey blades every 300 board feet.
I just finished painting an entire wall of our study the color of mahogany. It’s kind of exciting to put THAT MUCH color onto a surface of your home. It feels like someone just draped a dark curtain over half of the room.
It’s kind of gloomy and depressing at the moment, but it’s the first step of creating my Christmas present from Roger – something I’ve wanted for a long time – a wall of bookshelves. I’d like a dark background behind my books instead of the pale fake wood paneling that is on the other three walls. Just a little classier…
Hopefully Lowe’s will be open in the morning so Roger can pick up some new planer blades. My “deal” with him was: I’ll stay home from the Moyer get-together if you’ll put up my shelves. (Not that we bargain, and NOT that he was trying to get out of going… But we kind of did need to be here all weekend. And I’m hoping to get my shelves before camp starts.)
And while I painted, Roger took Judah, Malin and Avery up to the log cabin for a Memorial Day campout. Wesley opted out of camping (he’s a happy little homebody like me) and we stayed up til 11:00 watching Flywheel. I got a kick out of him during the last part of the movie. He kept jumping up to see how late it was. He was very excited about staying up late. When I told him that he could even pick out a CD to listen to when he went to bed, he said, “This is going to be the best night ever!”
He’s easy to please, huh?
Maybe we did just watch a movie, but it was nice spending time with him. Roger and I get all kinds of one-on-one time with Avery when “the others” are in school, but I keep thinking about how hard it is to get that same alone time with the rest of them.
That’s what she calls them – the others. Mom, is it time to get the others yet? Every time she says it, I think of the first season of LOST. (Which makes going to the bus stop feel a little more ominous.)
Yesterday Roger and Avery went on a date to Lexington to sell four sheep. That left me with a free morning. Okay, so maybe Avery went with Roger because I wanted a morning to myself. It was really nice. I took the other 3 to school and spent the morning running my errands in Hazard. At noon I drove to Jackson and met some friends for lunch – then I hung out with my friend Debbie at work until it was time to go to Honor’s Day at 2:30.
I was proud of Judah when I saw that he was one of only 2 boys in the elementary school who had completed his Book-It goals for the whole six months. It said a lot to me as his mom, because the child does NOT like to read. He wasn’t being rewarded for his love of reading, but for his persistance. (Or… obedience? Much of that reading was parentally forced.) But I’m pretty sure that he worked harder for that certificate than most of the girls standing up there with him.
At Riverside they have an Accelerated Reader program where students earn points by reading library books, then taking tests on the computer. Their points stack up all year, and yesterday they were recognized for their total number of points. As far as I know, it’s an optional program – the motivated students get the points. When they recognize these kids at the end of the year, everyone gets a certificate, starting with the person with the least amount of points. (This year I think it was .09) Malin told me not long ago that she was the first 1st grader to take a library test, so I expected to hear her name announced. But I didn’t expect that I would hear 10 names called before I heard “Malin Voth.” She worked harder for that than I’d realized.
I kept waiting and waiting to hear Wesley’s name called, because, unlike his brother, he loves to read. But after waiting through name after name after name, I decided that he had been too lazy to take any of the tests. Until I heard, ”…and with the highest number of points in the school…. Wesley Voth.”
It made me smile.
Malin also got a math award, Wesley got the Bible award in his class, and Judah got an award for cooperative attitude. I don’t remember the rest off the top of my head…
The other most exciting part of my day happened in Hazard. I had plenty of time, and some extra money to spend on myself, so I thought, “I’ll go in to Shoe Show.” (I’ve just classified myself as a typical woman, right?) It was a good decision. I found a pair of Skechers on half-price clearance. I’d seen them before and knew I’d love them, but hadn’t even tried them on, because I hate to spend $55 on a pair of shoes. They were perfect. They make me want to run. The end.
This afternoon I was standing outside with Roger, getting ready to hand him the mail. I had just opened my mouth to speak when something flew into my mouth, touched onto my tongue and then rebounded off again. It was flying low and lazy after that catastrophe, so I followed it. (I wanted to know what kind of creature had touched my tongue so intimately!) And of all the random things…. the big fat disgusting fly came and landed on the mail in my hand, and stayed there just long enough for me to show it to Roger. Roger promptly squished it.
I don’t call him my brave protector for nothing.
Judah, Wesley and Malin came home last week, telling us that their whole school was going to the circus – today. They were very excited about it, but Avery was just a little bit sad. She told me several times, “I wish I was 6 – so I could go to the circus.” This morning I surprised her by telling her that the two of us were going too. It was so much fun to spend those hours with her.
We were sitting there in our folding chairs when the lights went out, listening to the circus music and watching the lions and tigers, and I actually had tears in my eyes. It was so ridiculous. A little 2-ring circus is nothing to get emotional about. But it wasn’t that really. It was being with Avery as she discovered this classic childhood experience. She told me on the way home, “I didn’t know that lions are really REAL.” We had a blue snow cone and blue cotton candy, and we found Judah, Wesley and Malin during intermission.
I have memories of seeing Barnum and Bailey’s circus in Asheville when I was growing up. That was a big deal. Afterwards I would spend hours looking at the circus program book – reading all about the performers and the animals. When JJ and Dawn were here, a little circus came to Jackson, and our family joined the excited crowd. It was my first experience with a small circus, and a huge letdown for me.
This time around, I knew what to expect. It took place in a school gymnasium, and it was free.
I’m not sure why it was free. When I looked it up on the web, there was an admission price. But after I parked the van, we walked in the side gym door (past a clown who I expected to ask for my money) and found ourselves a couple of seats. For the first half of the show, we were in folding chairs on the main floor. During intermission, a couple of school groups left, and we had a whole section of bleachers to ourselves.
One nice benefit of a small circus is that snacks and souvenirs cost less. And since I was expecting to pay admission and didn’t have to, I felt like I had money to spend. (My children appreciated that.) Avery chose a light-up butterfly thing that she could share with Malin later. When we got up at the end, we were over at the water fountain when she said, “Oh, my prize!” Oops. She had left her $4 souvenir lying on the bleachers. And you know what happens in that situation, right? In a gym full of kids? I knew that there was no way we were going to find the thing. But we walked over and searched anyway. Imagine my surprise when one of the circus performers (the lady that Avery had seemed the most fascinated with) walked up to us and handed Avery her butterfly wand.
She must have noticed the cute little girl in the empty section of bleachers and saved her toy just in case she came back to look for it. It was a happy end to our circus outing.
My girls just brought me a coloring book that they were coloring in. Avery was proud to show me her messy way of coloring Cruella DeVille. She said, “See? I colored the bad person bad!”
And Malin said, “Is it okay if we put the middle finger up at her?”
Ha! (Just for the record, I told her no. As well as, “No, you can’t put the middle finger up at Satan either. It’s bad manners.”)
Some things are just plain stupid. I don’t like that my kids come home from school talking about the “bad” finger.
I personally believe that all fingers are created equal. Flipping someone off is only an insult if they take it that way. It’s so….. high school.
I was driving somewhere one day when I accidentally cut someone off and they gave me the finger. Honestly, (after I did a double take) it just made me laugh. What did she think? That I would be offended by her silly finger?
This is probably the last thing I expected to write about today. You just never, never know what will come up in conversation when 2 little girls walk up to you.
ethereal.
posed beside a white dogwood,
you become fairyland
if i stand still and watch long enough,
i’ll see you
lift satin-shod toes and dance
an airy bit of Swan Lake.
–but only in some obscure ratio of sunlight and shadow…
outside of that moment, waiting is useless.
independent.
blooming out in a Bohemian frenzy of color
putting to shame the pink dogwood
(unnatural, unfriendly pink. like someone
tried to transport Japan
but squished it into
English manor subservience.
…so mild-mannered.)
paired with a pale weeping willow,
you are the dress that my
little hippie self wants to wear
dancing through clover
subtle
(my favorite)
-and it’s kind of a ragamuffin look-
resting quietly beside a dark evergreen
your branches standing out black in the sunshine
and blacker in the rain
not quite blending in,
or begging for attention… merely
complementing
you are
one
of the reasons.
i never want to leave kentucky.
Ask my husband the definition of a battering ram and he won’t say anything about a large piece of wood or breaking down the gates of a city. He’ll mention a creature named Billy who practically turned him into a cripple.
Idiot sheep.
He almost got sold yesterday. He would have, except that Roger didn’t have the time to take off to Lexington to the sheep auction. Instead, like a good shepherd, he went down to the field to check on his animals and give them a little grain before getting to work for the day. When some friends drove by and honked, he turned to wave, and in that instant the cowardly bully struck.
Idiot sheep.
He’s no threat to anyone except an adult male – and then only when the man’s back is turned to him. If you look him in the eye, he’s too afraid to do anything to you. He’s not even any good for breeding any more. Almost every sheep in that pasture is his child, grandchild or both. It’s time for a change.
Idiot sheep.
(Roger is more or less fine. Nothing is broken, but he’s walking around with a very stiff leg and much discomfort.)
