Wrap up of July

Blogging has fallen by the wayside these last few weeks of July. Busy, busy. Let's catch up.

Madison visits - Daughter #1 arrived for an in and out visit. Her plane arrived Thursday night a few minutes before it was legitimately Friday. Tom and I managed to stay awake long enough to collect her from the airport, but she outlasted us by far once we got her home. We crammed several days worth of favorite foods, crazy activities, and a game night into the small period she had before leaving us on Sunday night. Having both girls home was a mother's dream. And a father's dream. We both felt complete with them tucked into their beds at night. If only it had lasted longer...

16th Birthday - We celebrated one of my replacement children's birthday. These are the kids I'm co-mothering because my own children have left the nest. His family and Darcy and I went to an Italian restaurant, took up the entire back corner, and partied until we could no longer party. There was plenty of wine, decadent and rich food, and this delicious double cookie cake. Presents were plenty, and then a week later, Darcy took both kids out for a night of laser tag. We counted the 16th well celebrated.

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Pool Girl - Somewhere amid summer, pool care became my job. Our neighbors had requested some swim lessons for their visiting cousins, and because the girl was ten, I took her on, which meant I needed a clean pool. Usually, when that happens, Tom can't control his urge to return as the master, and he sneaks out at night to vacuum or whatnot. Not this year. It's been my job, and what a time it has been. With the crazy summer rains and the uncontrollable heat, I've worked my butt off trying to keep the pool chemically balanced, not to mention clean. I've suddenly begun rethinking the creepy crawler, which I poo-poohed when we first got the pool. At least in the summer months, that thing would come in handy. Not even my dog can hang outside with me when I vacuum because it is too hot. The job is better done in the water than out of it. Still...right now...today...I have perfection on all fronts.

Harvesting - Each year, I grow a pineapple...or two. Depends on the year. These plants belonged to my mother, who loved sending me out into her plantation to work with these prickly plants. After she died, we transplanted them into our yard, and each year around the anniversary of her death, we get the beginnings of a pineapple--or two. Only one sprung this year, and it was on the plant in front of our house—one of her eldest plants. We picked it this week and shall cut it this weekend. The top of this pineapple will then be put into the ground to join the others in our yard's plantation. Who knows? Maybe in five years, it too will bring forth a fruit.

Cleaning - My friend and her children are beginning a new life. In honor of that new beginning, she is purging, cleaning, and replacing things. I am the leader of whipping everyone into shape so that the dream becomes a reality. To that end, days and days have been spent working tirelessly in her house. We've been taking it one room at a time and have probably contributed a year's worth of garbage to the dump. And yes, we made a trip to the dump to drop off old computer parts and a gigantic television that we somehow got lifted into the car. Thus far, we have knocked out three closets, a laundry room, a pantry, and two bedrooms. We've met with painters, flooring people, mattress salesmen, and she has ordered new furniture. Next week we have a dumpster coming, helpers lined up, and hopefully, the entire house will be purged and ready for a transformation.

Summer is winding down slowly, and the empty nest will soon be upon me again. I've started to panic in losing my kid to college again, but it helps she isn't far. We also have a big family wedding scheduled in September when my nephew ties the knot, so I'll have a weekend with them. I'm looking forward to that.

And that's a wrap. Of July. On to August 2018.

The blip in our summer (not to mention my life)

Motherhood came easily for me. The reality of motherhood hit me the moment the nurse laid that first child in my arms. Responsibility--the weight was great, but the worry? That tipped the scale.

I learned all about worrying from my own mother. She was the queen of the verb. Calm, collected, and strong until it came to her children. Then she was a stranger, a lunatic that screamed, hands in the air pacing, running searching for the answer or for my father to solve whatever issue had arisen. I learned to sit and speculate on what could go wrong instead of right from her. I've maybe overtaken her title.

While my family was here, the night my cousin photographed the wedding, Darcy and her friends planned a late evening across the bay bridge. Now that these "kids" are "adults," late-night happenings are the rage. They planned to travel to Darcy's university, pick up the guyfriend, and travel even further to a ten o'clock appointment to play TopGolf. Because I didn't like them coming home after midnight, she and her friends agreed to spend the night in a friend's apartment, returning the next morning.

I didn't like any of it. One, we had company in town. Two, she doesn't even care about golf. Three, who the hell plays golf at night? I thought the whole thing stupid, and I worried; about them driving, about the nuts that drink and get on the road after midnight, about the trouble that could happen in that part of town. On and on. Apparently, so did the hubby, but then he decided he'd head to work off his worry and off he went to the Y.

Forty minutes later, the call came.

Darcy: "We've been in an accident. I'm fine, but it's bad. The car is totaled."

I reacted first as I'd watched my mother react countless times. My insides jumped, my heart bounced into frantic action, and I stumbled over my words, anger, worry, and desperation in my voice.

Darcy: "Mom, I'm fine. We both are. We're fine."

I heard it all. Her voice. My voice. I pictured my mother and how my kids hate when I react like her. I worked so hard at calming my voice, which was a Wonder Woman effort, believe me. But I chanted in my head, "she's okay, she's okay" as I dug deep and pulled forth the strength to be the strong, take-charge person she needed at the moment. I offered advice. I told her I'd get her father. 

I called the Y, got them to get him, gave him the story, sent him off to get her.

Then I lost it. She was on the Interstate--in eight lanes of traffic on the side of the road. Before an exit--standing with strangers in freaking Florida, where everyone is in a damn hurry. Drivers don't obey the law and get over into the far lane when they see an accident. And all of that was BEFORE I saw the pictures of the cars.

I'm just grateful my family was in town. Because I had to deal with picking them up, and having them with me gave me a sounding board and a peace. Darcy called multiple times; to let me know when the hubby got there to let me know they were going for food to let me know she felt fine. Of course, no one listened to my advice to go to the hospital, but that changed the next day when Darcy awoke with significant neck pain and a raging headache. I sent the hubby with her to the ER, where she was diagnosed with inflamed and strained muscles, tendons, and tissues, and sent home with three days of medication.

I spend a lot of time now sneaking into her bedroom to watch her sleep. I'd prefer to just sleep beside her, arms tightly around her, but....well, we parents know that isn't feasible. Every time I think of that night or see the picture, I lose a month or so of my life. I cry a lot. I'm so very grateful that she and her friend weren't severely hurt. Nor was the couple who hit them from behind and who were ticketed. I pray this is the last accident, that she pays close attention to driving details, understands why I am the way I am, and why I tell her the things I do.

Darcy: "The whole time we were on the side of the road, I freaked out about where everyone was standing. You're right. Drivers do not get over. They do not care that people are standing on the road involved in an accident. I kept hearing you tell me that on our drive to SC, and I kept pulling everyone back to the guardrail. I even had a plan if another car went awry. That was scarier than the accident itself."

Motherhood. A joy and a burden. Thankfully, the former outweighs the latter. I'll take that, please.

Hope emerges in cave rescue

I hate reading the news. It comes up on my feed, and everything is dire, dire, dire, and disgusting, and what's the point? No wonder people are depressed. This world is a mess. I quit reading the newspaper for the most part. I skim headlines, read the happy news, and disregard the rest. I just can't...

But the Thai soccer team trapped in the cave was my exception. Water news always catches my attention. I've spent more than half my life in aquatics, so water? It calls to me and any information about water I tend to open, good or bad. I first came upon the cave article on the 10th day when they were discovered, and every day I thought of those boys. Every day I sought out the news on the impending rescue. I got people involved that knew nothing about it. When my cousin was visiting, we gathered around in a circle in the living room to read the latest, share, and speculate. Every few hours, we checked our phones for updated information.

The rescue itself? Unbelievable. If you haven't read any news on this topic, I implore you to do so. This, people, is what this world can do together. There were no threats, no back door deals, or changing hands of money. The Thai government reached out to the world's best, and they answered, volunteering their time, their knowledge, their equipment, and their lives to save twelve strangers.

More than one hundred and fifty rescuers were involved. They came from all parts of the world; Australia, America, England, Belgium, etc. They worked as a team devising a plan to remove those children from a harrowing route that would take hours. A doctor spent a week in the cave with the boys to prepare them. Thai's Seal team did the same, more bringing in supplies and food. Volunteers showed up at the cave to help in any way they could. Children volunteered as guinea pigs so that the divers could do a mock rescue in a pool before the big event. People showed up to help others and checked their egos at the door.

The rescue was terrific. It was at the time, but as more and more information trickles out, it makes me tear up. The plan. The involvement of so many. The risk the divers took. The parents waiting at the mouth of the cave. The danger of the cave. The boys' bravery. The success and the happy outcome. All of it, while those of us around the world waited, pulling for everyone involved.

These rescuers did not give up, and through this rescue, I've found hope. Hope that people won't give up on one another, hope that together we can perform miracles, and hope that this world isn't a lost cause.

A Chicago Post-Tribune article by Jerry Davich had one of the best lines to sum it up. Davich wrote, "Too many of us are trapped in a cave of some kind, with rising floodwaters of uncertainty in our world, drowning in animosity toward each other. At this moment in time, we have been rescued yet again from our fears and doubts about the human spirit."

Yep. Kudos to everyone involved in the Thai Rescue. Thank you. Thank you for what you did, what you accomplished, and for what you managed to do that our leaders and this world can't seem to do; work together for the common good to save others. Thank you.

Beach Day Craziness

Each beach day usually brings a host of characters, and my beach day with Jaimee and Lily was no different. We spent our hours in the water because the sun was relentless, and two minutes of sitting on the sand had the sweat dripping down my face, mingling with the sunscreen and damaging my eyesight. It was better in the water.

As we floated, a boat suddenly began honking, and we turned to watch it travel past the buoy, eventually running right up on to the shore. In the sand. What? I've never seen a boat come past the buoys and certainly never run ashore. The boat then reversed, turned, went out past the buoys, turned, and returned honking for those in the water to move. This went on as the boat continued moving in a pattern, much like one mowing a lawn.

The water was full of people, and when the honking would commence, those in direct sight would move to the right or to the left, but the problem was that the boat couldn't seem to decide how to straighten itself out so when people would move they would have to move again once the boat decided on its course.

We also worried about those who ventured out toward the buoys where there was a sandbar, a favorite for beachgoers looking for sand dollars. We thought at first that the boat had almost snapped the head off of a man floating between two buoys, but then as the boat-made waves rolled, we decided it wasn't human. Still, the boat and its drive pattern were not precisely what I would call safe on a summer beach day.

I commented loudly. Various scenarios were offered by multiple people floating by. "They must be picking up someone," "They are having engine trouble," and "They are nuts!" My favorite was from a middle-aged woman with a colored noodle shoved under her armpits carrying a Pepsi can that she held aloft.

Pepsi Woman: "There are sharks. They are letting us know to be careful. From the sharks out there."

High on the side under the captain's seat were letters in sizeable black lettering spelling out SURVEY. Lower on the side of the boat, in the middle, was a logo that read Hyatt Survey. Further, to the edge of the boat was the name; Pamela Anne. A man in large white sunglasses suggested they were a survey company and that he wasn't concerned about sharks. He was from Bosnia, and we spent half an hour hearing his journey to America, his following of his girlfriend, now his wife, to Fargo, South Dakota, and his vacationing here every summer. Nice man. We agreed sharks were not what the boat was here for.

Apparently, others were annoyed about the boat because pretty soon, two Sheriff deputies arrived in their official sheriff dune buggy. They pointed to the boat, got on the phone, followed it down the beach for a bit, and eventually were surrounded by people offering up, I'm sure, hopeful advice. Pepsi Woman floated on a noodle under her pits, Pepsi still in her hand. I commented to Jaimee and Lily that we would soon know the scoop once PW floated back out to us. Sure enough, out she came.

Me: "So, fill us in on the scoop."

PW: "I'm heading out there now."

Me: "No, on the scoop from the Sheriff's deputies. I saw you talking to them. Give us the low-down."

PW: "Oh, I know all of the deputies. My kids know all of the deputies. From the time they found my husband hanging dead in our backyard. We know all the Sheriff's deputies."

Me: "Okay...uh, well, we've heard quite a few stories today out here on the water, and while that one would top the list, I'm more interested in what the Sheriff had to say. You know about the boat?"

PW: "The sharks were last week. They're here for the stranded manatee and baby dolphin out there. They've got a rope, and they're letting people know."

Uh? Manatee hanging in the Gulf with a baby dolphin? Not likely, but my writer's imagination smelled a book. If only Pepsi Woman had moved on past us.

PW: "I'm heading out there now to get a look at it."

Me: "The stranded manatee?"

PW: "I'll go take a look. Out there on that..what is it called?"

Me: "The sandbar?"

PW: "I'll check it out."

She yelled at her grandkids to stay, and off she traveled, the noodle still under the pits, her Pepsi can above the water. I mentioned to Jaimee that I thought Pepsi was not the liquid currently in that can and that I hoped she knew that it wasn't a bar where she could refresh whatever was in there. We watched her float out to the bobbing thing in the water between the two buoy markers.

Her grandkids began hollering. Loudly.

Them: "NANA! NANA!"

Boy: "COME BACK! NANA, COME BACK."

Over and over and over again, they yelled. We were between them, and suffice it to say, PW didn't hear the grandkids. I finally got tired of the shouting and suggested, maybe a bit groucher than I should've considering their young ages, say 7-10 years old, that they save their breath as she couldn't hear and she would be back when she was finished checking out whatever had sent her out there. They stopped shouting. She went to the sandbar, got a tad close to whatever bobbed out there, shouted to her grandkids, and returned.

Jaimee: "So, what was it? A baby dolphin?"

PW: "A skull."

Jaimee: "A skull? A human skull?"

PW: "A skull bobbing out there. The rope goes right through its eye socket."

Jaimee: "What?"

PW: "Right through the eye socket. The rope. I was right there. Looked it straight in the eyes. Saw it for myself. We were this close. Face to face. I stared it right in the eye."

Jaimee: "The one with the rope through it?"

PW: "And I did it all alone. That guy was supposed to go out with me, but he chickened out. I went out. It's a skull."

She then floated past us to the grandkids, and we didn't see her again. Thank god. Lily flagged down our Bosnia friend who was out swimming by the thing, and he told us it was a joke. Someone had put a hat on a head--or a skull. Jaimee was beside herself, and I was laughing so hard I was peeing. I'm used to this nonsense on beach days, but Jaimee... Well, she had to go out there and look for herself.

We ventured out, the three of us, to investigate the skull/dolphin/manatee/hat. Turned out instead to be a buoy, minus the long white marker. My guess is the marker fell off, leaving behind the floatation portion of the buoy tied to a rope and covered in barnacles. A letdown for sure, but hey, it sure will give Jaimee something to blog about on this vacation.

Vacation Part II

Darcy and I got back from South Carolina, slept, and then picked up our next vacation, part II, at the airport. My cousin's wife and daughter Jaimee and Lilly arrived at the crack of dawn for a few days. Jaimee has 156 different degrees and jobs, one of which is her own photography business, and she was in town to shoot a wedding. That's how important she is...people fly her into town to shoot their wedding!

Jaimee had to get up at 2:45 for her 5:30 flight and supposedly hadn't gone to bed until 1:00 that morning, so any chance she got the entire day she napped. Not really, but ninety percent of the time, she thought about it. We spent the day having our nails and toes done, swimming in my pool, and playing games with friends since they arrived on Family Night, our every other weeknight dinner and games with friends. Alcohol may or may not have been involved, and by the game portion of the evening, we had lost SueG, who slept sitting up on the couch. 

The next day was the wedding. Lily was the assistant. I was the Uber driver. It took longer for them to slap on make-up, dress, and bundle up the camera equipment than it did for me to drive them to the high falooting beach resort some forty-five minutes away. The rain stayed away, the wedding went off on the beach, I picked them back up that evening, and the real fun began.

..We did all of the touristy things; eating on the beach, walking tourist shops, taking photos, etc. Darcy's boy toy joined us (more on that later), Tom accompanied us, and the day went by fast and lasted longer. We didn't eat dinner until almost 11:00 p.m. Jeez, hanging out with the young folks.

The next morning we were up and on the road by 8:00 a.m. We had kayaking reservations north of us, something we had done the last time Jaimee was in town, and we loaded up the van, stopped along the way for sandwiches, and made it just in the nick of time before the kayak people started charging a dollar for each minute we were late. A fact Darcy didn't mention to us until afterward, but it certainly explained her stress on time management.

Our kayak trip was four hours. We had two two-seater kayaks and two one-seater kayaks. The men took the singles, and the ladies took the doubles. Jaimee and I paired up last time, beat the rest back to shore, and decided why mess with perfection? The answer to that came later after four hours of paddling; uh, weight. It was the guyfriend's first experience kayaking, and his competitive nature had him wanting to race, which resulted in his kayak overturning, spilling him into the gulf. While it was funny, and certainly a great photography moment, we had all opted to leave our camera phones behind. Communing with nature. Family togetherness. That sort of thing, darn it.

Actually, we were worried we would get them wet. We have zero pictures of us kayaking except for the before and after van photos. We paddled far and wide, had lunch on a secluded beach, swam some in the Gulf, and returned home sunburned and with enough energy to spend the next few hours in the pool playing three very vicious, competitive games of water volleyball that took about two hours to complete and ended with us pouring chlorine into the pool to counterbalance the amount of urine that might have been leaked from the laughter.

For documentation purposes only, I just want to say that the Fukouwe Tribe Team of Lily, Jaimee, and Cara held its own and scored the trophy for the best team name and chant. What I wouldn't give for videos of Jaimee leading our cheer. Which might have added more to the need for chlorine than anything else.

Tom cooked a great steak dinner to top off the evening, and we deemed the day a success and one we will replicate in the future.

The last day was spent at the beach and deserves its own entry. We watched the sunset, the girls got tattooed, and we did more and more beach nonsense as Jaimee and Lily's plane kept getting pushed back for departure. They finally took off for home at midnight, leaving behind a tired bunch of vacationers. 

From the family in South Carolina to the family visiting us in Florida, it was the best week of summer vacation. Jammed pack, we made memories and laughed and loved. It was awesome!

Putting the drums into action

After I got the call for the birthday, I mentioned my drumming to my cousin--because this family of mine--they are musicians. And singers. And crazy. But mostly because they are musicians and I knew one of them had to have a drum kit. So I could practice.

I was right. Above the barn at Joyce's house is a studio with all sorts of instruments. I spent the first day there in the heat practicing. There was air conditioning, but it took forever to cool, and I couldn't wait. I needed to drum. It was awesome. I drummed for half an hour, and then Darcy texted me that she was in the bathroom vomiting. I texted back: "Do you need me?"

Not my finest moment, but people! I'm a drummer, and I was feeling the beat.

I did stop to attend to her, but once she was feeling better, I went back out to the barn and drummed for another hour. Until my butt was sore and my arms tired. I loved it. I truly am going to have to get some drums. And maybe a barn studio.

The next day Mandy and her kids came over, and we all went into the studio to perform. It was even more fun. Darcy had brought her ukelele, and Mandy's daughter sings, so we put it all together and rocked out.

For the first time, I got to be a part of the music instead of being a bystander. I loved it. I've been bitten by the music bug and shall commit until I'm playing a song. Of course, first I'll need some drums. And some more lessons. But baby steps. That's how it's done. 

Summer Mini-Vacation 2018 - South Carolina

Relationship: My grandmother's sister's daughter and her children (Joyce, Jason, Mandy)

The party was a surprise for Joyce's 70th. Jason's wife's parents opened their new home to hold the celebration for sixteen family members. On the morning of the party, Mandy gave us the timetable and rundown that included picking up balloons and decorations. I asked about the cake and discovered that the birthday cake of choice would be a loaf sized pound cake that had been the topic of discussion and examination from the night before. One that included concern regarding the drizzle and burnt edges. What? Not in my world. I added a trip to Publix for a birthday cake to the list of travel plans.

We had the house decorated in record time, and then because we had like two hours to kill, we started drinking early--homemade mojitos. And we practiced our musical skills, which in this family, is many.

Joyce arrived. We hid. Darcy and I hid in the downstairs closet, and the rest hid upstairs where they could look down from the cutout into the living room. We yelled for everyone to get into their places, and we scattered like insects at a picnic. Darcy and I jumped into the closet, and then Darcy was screaming, pushing me out of the closet. Spiders. I killed relocated them, and we went back in. From our hiding spot, we could hear the others arguing above us. Who was going where? Who was going to jump out first? Who was yelling what? I figured the surprise was doomed.

But we got her. She was overwhelmed. Maybe a tad confused, especially when Darcy got closer. Joyce saw her, recognized her, knew she was in FL, wondered who could look so much like her, and then spotted me. She got teary. Or maybe she was already that way. But we surprised her. I think.

We had great Asian food cooked right there in the house. We sat around and told Joyce stories and memories. We laughed. A lot. We cut and ate the cake.

I'm so glad I was remembered at the last minute and so thankful that I could up and leave at the last minute. As I age, family and friends and get-togethers are so meaningful. I try to soak it all in each time. I feel weepy and full of love and the feelings mingle and mix and I'm more grateful for all of it.

Happy Birthday, Cousin Joyce. So glad you are in my life. So grateful for the hospitality thrown at you, and blessed beyond belief for the time we spent all of us together.