Rain drain

Well, another beautiful (if clouds and rain are your thing) summer day. We decided to hell with it, since this is the new summer it is time to adapt. So, we came to the lake. Kids are swimming in the rain, people are walking in the rain. Really, I suppose it is true that rain won't kill you. I'm not particularly fond of the idea of sitting in the rain. Just not the same thing as sitting in the sun. Go figure.

So, since the weather isn't top notch, I thought it would be a good time to clean the cottage up a bit. The first thing I decided to do was find out if there was actually carpet underneath all of the grass and dirt. Since it does rain most of the time, kids have been tracking in crap. And even though there was a rule once upon a time that if you were wet you came in the backdoor, I don't actually see that happening these days. Is it because I don't enforce it? I think the difference is that when Nana is here, she is in the house and can catch them. I am usually outside and scream at them after the fact.

Not that they care. I have been screaming about wet towels left laying around since the beginning of time, and I am not sure, but it seems that problem is getting worse!

So, I hauled out the vintage vacuum cleaner and turned it on and started to push it around. It did a great job of pushing around the bits and pieces on the floor, but it did not seem to eliminate any. I changed the vacuum bag, thinking that might help. Nope. I then put my hand at the bottom of the hose to see what type of suck was happening. Only a whisper of suck. I played around with it, but the thing is just old. The hose is fraying and probably doesn't let the suck happen in force. I looked for some tape to take care of that, but the last time I saw the electric tape it was being wrapped around one of the kids cut foot. Naturally they did not return it to where it belongs. Wherever that is, I searched high and low.

So, with great disgust I pushed the bits and pieces around some more and then gave up. So what that means is that I have to bring my own vacuum cleaner over at some point, but it is heavy and clunky and I'm not doing it until the last moment. So a dirty cottage it will be.

Oh! I see a patch of blue sky. Could it be possible ???

I hope that when it is sunny for a few days in a row, my blogs get more positive!

It's just been that kind of day. First I had to drive 45 minutes to pick up my share from the CSA I belong to. Because of this weather, nothing is really growing, and I knew this, so it was hard to drive all that way for a little bit. I got a bunch of radishes, a small head of lettuces, a small bag of mesclun mix and a bunch of chard. I can always use the lettuces, but I'm not a huge fan of radishes and the chard is delish but my plan was to have caesar salad for dinner. With chard?

Then, I dropped Charlie off at the lake and returned home to pick up Maddie to take her to driver's ed. so she could drive. Then I drove back to the lake and hauled in groceries and such and did the cleaning attempt and in a few minutes I have to drive back to get Maddie. And then take her to driver's ed. class at 6:30 tonight and then pick her up at 8:30 tonight.

Does any of that sound fun to you?

Rainy DAZE

When the universe appears to be conspiring against you, it is time to look a little deeper.  As in WHAT THE HELL is going on?

First we have this weather.  Peppered in between long and endless gray days full of rain purging from the sky are a day here and there with sun.  Not true summer sun -- not hot, endless ohmygod it is so hot out sun.  Just the sun, usually peeking out behind clouds -- but sun nonetheless.  But just when you think the worst is behind, another gray day socks in and while I will admit that it is not POURING out, it is cold and drizzly.

Then this whole thing with Charlie and schools.  Okay, he didn't get into Proctor.  Do I believe that all things happen for a reason?  Yes, I do.  I think that school is changing into a jock school and I think (I don't think there is a master Hitler-esque plan) that subconsciously those in charge are leaning towards a male-dominated regime.  They are recruiting jocks specifically to play sports.  Maddie has had some of this kids in classes with her -- and she says they are number than a box of rocks.  Maddie's soccer team had over 30 girls on it -- no one considered creating a third team.  Why?  Exactly.  Who knows what else is falling by the wayside during this time of re-creation, but my son is not a jock and therefore would not fit into this school.

Great.  So we move on.  But wouldn't you know, we find out on Friday afternoon before the holiday that the stupid, moronic SUCKY AS HELL middle school did not send out the transcripts, and the english teacher who told Charlie she would send out her recommendations ASAP didn't do it at all.  WTF?  Seriously.  What is the message here?  Other than the school is incompetent -- but beyond that, what else am I missing here?

I told Charlie that school was one thing, but the lessons he should be deriving from all of this are better than 12 years of sitting on your butt in the classroom yawning.  THIS is what life is about.  Incompetent people are everywhere, always creating roadblocks for you when you least expect them.  It is the way you learn to deal with it that makes or breaks you.  Me?  I just ran away.  I admit that I have no ability to kiss ass or stoop to a certain level.  Nope, you can't eat principle for breakfast lunch OR dinner, but you can create a world for yourself that is somewhat apart from "all that."

So here I am, torn again about what exactly it is I want for my children, and how best to help them obtain that.  Hallie has followed the proper channels and never strayed far from coloring outside the lines, and she is exceedingly successful.  I am proud of her and hope that she is as happy with her choices as the rest of the world is.  And Maddie will figure it out.  She doesn't make waves, she doesn't have that sense of injustice that is such a pain in the ass to carry through life.  But Charlie?  The kid is JUST LIKE ME.  Without the ability to tone it down.  And I'm not even saying I toned it down all that much throughout my life.  But still.

What will best serve Charlie at this time of his life?  He is so awful to live with right now.  He is scared.  He was hoping to hear from one of the schools by now -- and what does he receive but another disappointment?  Will this make him stronger?  Perhaps.  Will it make him appreciate it more?  I don't know.  It's just so much to deal with right now.  On top of puberty, the fact that developmentally he has to push away his mother and is taking on that job with great relish, the uncertainty about where he will go to school next year (and when I say that he will attend Kearsarge Regional High School over my dead body, I say it with as much vehemence I can muster, for the new high school principal is someone another school district wanted to fire.  Gotta love that!)

So you take that muddled stew and mix in a SUCKY DOG ASS summer, and well.  You get ass!

So there.  

On another note,  I am so impressed by the way that Charlie takes the bull by the horns and tries to fix things.  He called the middle school.  No answer.  (Really, they have NOTHING to prepare for?)  So then he looked up the vice principal's home number and called him there.  Well, good for him!  Perhaps he is a natural-born salesman; and somehow we have to figure out how he can sell himself.  He also called the schools he is applying to and explained the situation, then later called the VP back and told him to fax the information.  I told him to wait until tomorrow -- and to call the schools and see if they received anything.  If not, we'd devise Plan B.  That sometimes you had to initiate action and then see if it actually takes place.  Rome wasn't built in a day, blah blah blah, and well, patience is a virtue.

Did I really say that?  LOL.  No, but I did want to rein him in, or else he'll be calling everyone.  And then he'll revive that pain in the ass reputation they have adorned him with.  NO ONE, especially the public school system, is interested in a real go-getter.  Which is completely understandable.  This is a population still trying to figure out what the phrase NO CHILD LEFT BEHIND MEANS.

It means ass.

Cottage industry

This picture was taken directly from a website where they have a live camera set up on the lake.  This is about 1/2 mile away from the cottage.  

My husband's family has a cottage on Lake Sunapee where he spent every summer of his life while growing up.  We live about 15 minutes away from this cottage, so we are the ones who open it up in the spring and then deal with whatever crops up.  While there are a total of six siblings who have a stake in this cottage, their geography puts them in the position as vacationers when they come to the cottage.

We are never vacationers, as we rarely stay there once his parents are in residence because it's just not that big.  But before they arrive, we do spend weekends there and get a small taste of what a cottage has to offer.  Now, don't get me wrong, we reap many benefits -- we always have a place to go that is on the lake -- but it's still not the same because we are day-cottage visitors.

This spring when we opened it up, several problems cropped up.  First, the water heater was on the fritz, and secondly there was something major-wrong with the bathroom upstairs.  We got the first inkling of this when the water was turned on and we were all standing in the kitchen (literally waiting for leaks) when water started pouring down the wall (above the upstairs bathroom.)  Peter ran upstairs and I tried to salvage the two drawings my sister-in-law had done who knows when -- they have been on the wall as long as I've been around, and that eclipses 23 years.  

So now what?  Well, the water heater needed professional help, so we eventually called that in; but the thing with this family is that they are all do-it-yourselfers.  So Peter tried to fix the hot water heater himself before he gave up, and he worked on the bathroom for hours.  First he made a template of the bottom of the toilet, then cut out a piece of plywood and set it on that.  Nope.  Still leaked.  Then he did the opposite, and cut a hole in the floor and set the toilet in that.  (Doesn't that mean that the toilet has not very much between it and say THE KITCHEN?)  Anyway, that seemed to take care of that.  But the downstairs bathroom is another issue.  The toilet rocks.  And rolls baby!  It is an accident waiting to happen.  I happen to have very strong leg muscles, so when it starts to tilt I can stop it.  But ... it's as I said, a disaster in waiting.

Sooooo, his brother who lives in Minnesota is more than willing to get to it, and fix 'er up.  But, like I said, he's in Minnesota.  What needs to be done is the entire bathroom floor needs to be replaced.  They intend to do that, but logistics are hard to figure out.

In the past, Peter has always waited for his parent's to arrive and give him guidance on what should or shouldn't be done (when it comes to the big jobs.)  While he puts in countless hours puttering around and fixing this and that, he always saves the big jobs for when they come so his father can help and decide the course of action.  But this year they are late.  And while they have arrived in early July before, they have never been as late as the end of July, which is what looks to be the case this year.

And in the meantime, the stove in the kitchen is really broken.  The door broke a few years ago, but Peter's dad fixed it with a contraption of wood -- you just wedge it up against the door and floor and the door stays closed.  And honestly, you only trip on it a few million times while you are in their preparing a meal.  But it's gone beyond a broken door -- now the oven just plain won't start.  And to begin with it's a bit scary:  You turn on the gas and hear that click click click click and think OH NO, if it doesn't light soon we're all going to the big bazoom in the sky.  Frightening.

Now, the siblings (or those with spare change in their pocketbooks) agree that a new stove is necessary.  But it is automatically assumed that Peter will take care of it.  Not monetarily, but the work of it.  And so, that in turn means it goes to me.  Don't you just love the world of family dynamics?

The other night Peter and I were sitting on the porch and the kids were out hanging on the public dock.  We could hear them and we knew who they were with, but it was approaching 9:30 and Peter said that he had always had to come in at 9:00, and then maybe he could go out for another hour or so, but he could never stay out beyond 10:00.  I've been married to the man forever and I know that he was probably thrilled to go to bed at that hour.  It has always been late to him, so I bet that he was like to his friends, "oooh sorry, I HAVE to go home," secretly all the while thrilled to have his head hit the pillow.

Well.  As a night person I could never abide by the restraints of time.  There is NO ONE THING in the world as wonderful as sitting out under the stars and talking until the sun comes up.  So when Maddie came to the porch for some reason or other and Peter said that they needed to come in soon, she was like WHY?  And I had to say, I agreed with her!  Why?  Because he said so?  Because that was what always happened when HE was a kid?

So I broached the subject with him, and he was curious as to how long they could stay out?  And I said let's see when they come in on their own accord.  So we went upstairs to bed at 11:30.  Again, we could HEAR them outside, so it was not a big deal.  They came in about 10 minutes later.  In truth, if there is a rule, then I am going to break it.  So yahoo for my kids that the moment I sniff out the potential of a new rule in the making, I am going to swat it down, and perhaps go even further the other way.  But I have always believed that if you give your kids freedom they will figure out their own way and it generally is a path straight back to you.  At least that has been my experience to date.

So ... anywho, during this discussion of time's past and all, Peter said that it was the first time that he had realized that the general upkeep of the cottage was his responsibility.  Now.  I have known this for all the years and years that he has been doing it that it was only going to get worse as his parent's contribution lessened with time, but still, he never saw it that way until now.  NOW!  Wow.

The whole concept of sharing a property like a cottage is really quite interesting.  Next door there is a family that has been there for generations, and the brother and sister who inherited it from their parents are now inundated each summer with their children.  The sister has one child; the brother has three.  The sister's one child is younger and still has no children.  The brother's children all have many children!  All together there are six grandchildren under the age of 9.   Now the sister doesn't want to come up for the summer anymore.

Would you?  Would you want to be in a small cottage with six small babies, many of them crying, whining or complaining a good portion of the time?

I personally have avoided the cottage over the years because of a family member (who is now no longer part of the picture, AMEN to divorce) because the old adage one bad apple can spoil the bunch is as true as they come.  There are times when you have to weigh the pros and the cons, and if the cons win, then so be it. 

We don't have small children running about anymore, but we do have teenagers, who come along with their own set of issues.  My sister-in-law just dropped off three boys and left them there for the weekend, and that brings up yet another question: Is that allowed?  While they are certainly old enough to be left alone, and while she was pretty confident that there would be other family members there to monitor them, again, is that allowed?  I guess what that means is that it is something that I would never do.  It wouldn't even cross my mind, and these are kids that choose to not speak with you, for the most part.

Of course it is allowed.  Everyone does whatever they want, and they always have.  And believe me, there are many, many times I wish that I was in the position of arriving for the weekend to find a clean bed and a seat on the dock and a boat to use and food to eat, and then I just climb into my car and leave the "magic house," where one doesn't have to do anything.

And then again, to have such problems is a luxury!

Yippeeee

Happy 4th of July.

Here's the thing.  Pretty soon it's gonna start raining men.

Hallelulah.

DO NOT GO SEE THIS MOVIE

I read the book, My Sister's Keeper, by Jodi Picoult when it first came out.  As a fan of Picoult, I always looked forward to her books and read them in hardcover.  But that book made me change my mind, and she went from a favorite author to not so much someone I was even interested in reading.  I even waited for her last book to reach my kindle.

It's not that I don't like her formula (semi-unusual setting, law suit, medical problem) it's just that somewhere along the line she started pushing it.  Taking unbelievable stories and one-upping them so that she may as well be in the science fiction genre for how realistic they are.  What I am saying is that her endings suck.

So, apparently without keeping all of this in mind, I talked my sister into going to see the movie?  Why?  And more importantly, why did I not take a box of Kleenex?

Now, I love movies, I love books, I love stories ... and I am pretty generous with my praise.  I will even give all a benefit of the doubt and understand that some people might like it more than me, or whatever.

DO NOT GO TO SEE THIS MOVIE.

There is absolutely NO REASON to go see this movie, unless of course you feel like sobbing and having a throbbing headache for the rest of the day after watching it.  It totally and completely sucked.  It did not follow the book at all, and because the book had more character development in it, it was not necessarily a book about a girl dying of cancer.  That is ALL the movie was about, and seriously, why would anyone want to subject themselves to that?

DO NOT GO SEE THIS MOVIE.

It was exhausting.  And it didn't make a lot of sense.  And neither did the book.  The entire project should have been scrapped!  The book, the movie, the whole deal -- shouldn't have happened.

Now, my sister and I could certainly relate to many aspects of the movie, because we've lived the leukemia scene; we've been in the hospital (certainly she waaaaaaaaaay more than me, but it is an illness that without any doubt touches everyone) and we've watched a little girl suffer.  So from that perspective, it certainly was no fun to be reminded of any of that.  But even beyond that, it was just a bad movie.  Like any movie adapted from a book, unless you've read it there are things that don't make a lot of sense.  Like when the lawyer starts having an epileptic fit.  No discussion of it, just bummer man.  Later, after the movie I flipped through the book and realized that the only reason that the lawyer had taken on the case of medical emancipation for the little girl was because he too had felt that he had no control.

Well, gee, kind of a big deal, but not worth mentioning in the movie!  

DO NOT GO SEE THIS MOVIE.

I could go on and on, but I won't.  I have never disliked a movie as much as this one.  Ever.  We were crying within five seconds of watching it -- because that was all it was going for.  The cheap cry.  The few parts that were somewhat happy were always erased by returning to the dying present -- because that is how the movie worked.  Flashbacks of events, and always returning to the hospital, the inevitable death.

BLECH!

DO NOT GO SEE THIS MOVIE.

Seriously.  Not even to see if I am serious!!!

Weather or not

So I spend a week in crazy hot sunny weather in Chicago and then I return to rain.  I left rain.  All it does is rain here.  I wonder why?

There is no point in complaining about it ... because it just is.  It just is POURING that is!  This is no gentle, balmy rain.  This is the real deal, and it has been going on for hours.  So I ask again, why?

Well, because of the Gulf Stream and cold air from Canada and this and that.  Those are the reasons, and there's not anything you can do about it.  Unless of course you move.  Which I would LOVE to do!  Oh yes!  Move!  Peter even made a comment about moving yesterday -- even he has an official rain limit -- and so perhaps this is all my fault.  Perhaps my strong need to move somewhere civil has created this!  Because seriously, if it rains all summer, I am OUTTA HERE!  It's not raining in Seattle.  If you want to see something crazy, pull up Seattle on a weather site and see that the next 7 days are sunny and in the 80's -- not a cloud in the sky.

So, it's raining, and it will continue to rain for the next full week.  The kids are home, complaining (loudly) that there is nothing to do.  I am lucky to have woken up with a frog in my throat -- I can't stand listening to myself talk.  Perhaps it is because I slept with windows open above my head and the cold, damp air that is New Hampshire enshrouded me with its bitterness and made me ill?  Who knows, but I don't want to chance a walk in the woods and getting soaked to the bone and then chilled, so :::::::::::::sigh::::::::::::::::::: what shall we all do?  What do people in Seattle do?  I think they just put on raincoats and go about their lives.  Which I am all for, except that it is COLD and POURING.  Not balmy and moist.

My plan for this week was to pick as many strawberries as possible to freeze for the next year.  But wouldn't you know, they are having a bad strawberry year and lost many plants to frost.  The berries also don't ripen in the rain, they need the sun.  My garden is not growing like gangbusters ... it too yearns for the sun ... so I expect that all gardens are in the same plight.  Which is the whole I only have a few months out of the year that I can garden, and well, that is being bitten into by weather.

Where will I move to?  Well, that is a good question.  What I would like is a continuous 70-78 degree temperature with full sun and no bugs and the ability to live outside for most of the year.  I want an outdoor living room, kitchen, bedroom, the works.  I love to be outside, and when I look through catalogs and see those outdoor spaces all set up with cool furniture (that would rot in New Hampshire if left outdoors) I just salivate.  So where?  California?  Some tropical island?  I don't know, but I do know that whatever Yankee mentality I had bred into me is diluted ... I don't just accept hardship, I scorn it!  I say, rain rain go away, and if you don't then I won't stay!

So there!

Now it's back to the regularly scheduled programming of bored kids looking to me to amuse them.

Lovely.

Superfood withdrawal

Wow, I am not going to do it again.  It's not worth it.

What?

My daily diet ALWAYS consists of a few staples, no matter how good or bad I eat in totality for that day.  For the past nine months I have had near-daily doses of maca powder and cacao powder, often mixed in coconut water or a smoothie with fruit.  I can go a day or two without it and not notice anything, but this is the first time I've ever gone a full week, and let me tell you, I feel like a different person entirely.

The most revealing results is a TOTAL lack of energy.  At first I blamed it on not enough exercise, just sitting around socializing and eating and drinking, and then later, in Chicago, the blistering heat.  But I woke up this morning and felt the same kind of blah way.  And I woke up CRAVING a smoothie, which I am drinking now.  And I realized that this has been the longest period I have gone since October without my superfoods -- and they definitely make a difference.

I think you can go a day or two because it is still in your system, but by the time a week has gone by, it's outta there and you are just left with your own listless self!  

Normally when I go away I either pack my blender and superfoods or figure out where I can access what I need.  I just assumed that once in Chicago I'd find a health food store and be fine; but Hallie lives in a very quiet neighborhood area, and the only way to get anywhere is to walk ten minutes, and seriously, it was too hot to want to do that very often.  We also fell into the pattern of waiting too long to get something to eat; so by the time we were on a search, we wanted to EAT whatever was in sight.  Charlie was also with us, and so that affected eating choices as well.

It's no big deal, really, in the grand scheme of things, but I'm not going to do it again.  It's just so much more enjoyable to feel full of life and ready to tackle whatever comes your way, versus feeling exhausted as soon as you wake up.  That is ridiculous, and so easily overcome by the addition of just a few items in your diet.

So later, after my smoothie, I am going to make a green juice and put in algae powder, take a spoonful of my super-honey and flavor my water with milk thistle and then vinegar.  I am going to flood my system with all of the ingredients I have deprived it from the past seven days and I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that soon my will to live will grow exponentially and I will feel like singing and dancing and throwing my arms out and twirling around on the top of a mountain.

Food is a drug, and you can either choose the drug that makes you feel like crap, or the one that makes you feel greater than you could ever imagine.

I will never go seven days again.  I choose not to.