King Byron, and the Clown

The Hamlet Tour started a week ago, and has eaten my life. Not to mention last weekend my sister and parents came up to see Geoff do "The Winter's Tale," which turned out to be amazing in ways that I will write about later because I'm still processing my thoughts about him and his experience.

Tomorrow is our last day of the run. Final two shows. I will not be scheduling 12 gigs for "Twelfth Night" in August.

Heck, I would rather just schedule 8... fewer shows, better audiences, methinks. Anyway.

This experience has been rough on the kids, and me, and our director, and the parents. And while it is a relief that it is coming to an end, there are some amazing memories already and we're not done yet. We had one show where 1000 people were there, and we had another show where there were mostly parents and 5 "strangers," who were friends of Hamlet's Grandma.

Lots of ups and downs, lots of chaos, lots of amazing amazingness. The kids are growing more and more comfortable in their roles as the run goes on. Our gravedigger scene is usually very very funny, but today's show took it to another level that leaked into Ophelia's death scene and had audience members laughing hysterically when they should be crying for Laertes and our poor Hamlet was watching me trying not to laugh and she almost lost it. Good times, gooooood times.

We have two Hamlets switching back and forth, and a 90 minute cut and a 2.5 hour cut. We did the 90 minute cut in locations that required it -- performing with the Orfeo Group Theatre, Arlington Massachusetts' Shakespeare in the Park festival, and at the Park where we did Romeo and Juliet last year.

Tomorrow we do the show twice, both are 2.5 hour shows, so each Hamlet gets to go off with his or her big role in big fashion.

Jess had two friends from school who joined our merry wanderers this year, Byron and Nick. They were cast in rather huge roles for kids who had no experience in the company, but they both had plenty of experience in theatre at High School and other programs... Byron is Claudius the usurper uncle aunt mother father king, and Nick is Laertes, with a heavy Revere Massachusetts accent. Both of them have been so incredibly good in their roles that I cannot imagine anyone better for them, and I am so glad that they joined up.

Our last show is on Jess, Byron and Nick's home turf, and I am truly hoping that their friends and family turn out en force with a vengeance and we have a bazillion people on hand.

If you're in Boston, southern NH, wherever ... our last two shows are Haverhill and Andover and details/directions are here. Maybe try and come?

The weather played unfairly with us on Tuesday and Thursday, but today mother nature made up for her meanness by giving us an amazing day on the Boston Harbor Islands. A huge crowd, enthusiastic, amazing... and we had a great day. Today wins. Today we came in first at awesome and having fun. I'm still smiling from how awesome the day was... amazing.

Unlike last year, I am not going to do a full write up of each show. Instead, I will share these gems.

At Arlington, I spent a lot of time watching from afar and didn't take a lot of photos. I sat way high up on the hill, with the masses, and watched the players tiny on this large field with this amazing view of Boston behind them. Huge puffy white clouds, vivid green grass. The contrast to the content of the text and setting was evident and to some unnerving (like the critic from the Arlington Paper who couldn't quite deal with that juxtaposition) or invigorating (to the cast, and to me).

Before the fencing duel, I went down to the front of the house and sat down amongst a gaggle of little 6-9 year old girls who had abandoned their families to go down right in the very front. I had my camera handy, and they gathered close and whispered little questions. They knew exactly what was going on. They knew one foil was poisoned and were trying to guess which one. "Who has it? I bet it's the red one. But NO! Hamlet has it!"

They were totally making me smile. "Oh no. The king put something in that wine glass and the queen took it! She drank it!" the girls all gasped, and our Gertrude, Zoe, for a moment looked fine as she mopped her son's brow. Laertes swiped Hamlet's back, our Hamlet being Mia that day... and the girls said "he cheated! He did it to guarantee Hamlet would be poisoned!"

I was impressed. They totally knew the story and the score.

Our fencing duel raged on, and Hamlet gets Laertes' sword and swipes him. Laertes confesses, the queen falls, and the girls say "oh no... the queen is dead? So who will be queen now?!"

Hamlet is told he is poisoned, he kills Claudius and dies.

"Now, who is king? Now who is queen?" they asked. We cut out Fortinbras and ended the show with Horatio holding Hamlet and saying "Good night sweet prince..." So I told them what happened after the play ended and they had a lot of questions about how these things would be. What happened to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern? (We basically cut that out of the 90 minute version too, because really... who cares!)

One of the moms talked to some other girls and asked what they thought of the show. "I loved Hamlet! A girl can do ANYTHING!" one exclaimed.

That's right, baby.

We also performed with the Salem parks and rec department in their summer camp program. The 90 minute version of the play with our Frazier Hamlet as star.

There were three or four boys right up front the whole time, and they'd ask me questions like "why she crazy?" which cracked me up. They hung on every word. We took an intermission as the local food pantry provides lunch to the kids each day. I walked around and asked the kids, "so, do you get it? Do you know what's happening so far?" and we talked about the play, the ghost the uncle usurper, and one said "who cares if the uncle married the queen, doesn't Hamlet get the throne ANYway because he's the king's son???" So we talked about succession, deceit, cheating, and why Hamlet had a good reason to be pissed.

They loved the swordfight, and at the end, they came to me and said "can we go talk to them?" meaning, my actors. "Can we?"

Yes. go talk to them!

They bolted over and were jumping up and down "Aw mannnnnnn! Wicked! You were AMAZING!" Dancing all around them and freaking out.

Our kids then conducted a workshop with the park and rec kids. There was another group from a theatre summer camp at a local private school who brought 14 girls to the show. So they all joined in and our kids did a bunch of warm up exercises, vocal exercises and other games.

All the kids had a blast and humored me long enough to allow a photo of all three groups together. Before they left, three girls from the theatre camp that came to visit thanked me and one of them started crying. "I loved the play, and I loved that workshop. Thank you so much for doing this for us."

You're welcome. You have no idea how happy this makes me. I gave her a huge hug, and asked her not to cry or she'd make me cry. And they went on their way.

I think that even if there were not 1000 people at one of the shows, that if all we did was make that one girl cry, or the one little boy from the Salem parks in the white T-shirt jump up and down with that much joy, honey. We done good.

And on that note, Geoff and Doug leave in the morning for Scout Camp. I don't know what I'm doing with Geoff AFTER he gets back... so I do need to get that all figured out.

I will share this one photo with you of him from his performance in The Winter's Tale.

He played Clown, the son of the Shepherd who finds Perdita on the beach. He is getting pick pocketed by Autolycus here, played wonderfully by the boy who played our Henry V last year... Jackson.

Geoff is usually rather tactile-averse. He doesn't like to be touched, so to have THIS happen, this to me is amazing. I cannot believe that they got him to go for this, and not run screaming out of the scene. He had such a rough start to camp this year, and it was hard for him and me, and his teachers. But the end result was some comedy that no one will forget. Especially me, his old mum.

On that note, I'm off to check laundry, shirts, bags, etc... and get things ready to get going.

I will try and write more this week now that I have a lull in the action. Thanks for abiding, my friends.

Waxing Desperate with Imagination...

So June had one entry. I'm thinking July will have more. At least only because Rebel is running, and I'll have a tour to recap for myself and posterity's sake at the end of the month. I cannot really believe nearly 11 months have gone by since the Romeo and Juliet Tour of last August. The year went fast; and right now it feels like days just rush past with so much to do, and so little time to get things done!

I'm working on the tour again, and have lined up some pretty amazing sites to perform at.

If you are in the greater Boston Area, and you're interested in attending, do let me know. I can point you towards the shows which run from Boston to Arlington to Newburyport and other points between July 17-26.

One that I am truly looking forward to is at George's Island in the Boston Harbor Islands National Parks Service. I had to secure that spot back in January, started talking to them right after Romeo and Juliet wrapped. The location is really cool, and the only request I have to God Himself is that the weather around here improve.

A few months ago I stole one of the students to take pictures of him for press for the NPS, which they ended up not using. And he ended up cast as Hamlet.

Excellent.

We have a male and a female Hamlet, so I have to take the girl's photos on Sunday and put together media and posters and get them out in a really timely fashion.

Jess enlisted two of her classmates from High School into doing Rebel with her. Which is fantastic. They are both unique and interesting guys, and I have been driving them down with us in the morning and back home at night. An hour in the car each way. And they don't shut up. I mean honestly. They talk the whole way. Especially one of them. He is a laugh riot but wears me out. I feel like I need a large bottle of wine when I'm done spending time with him. Hmmmm. Funny, he kind of reminds me of Geoff. ha!

He calls me mamma, and Jess is sister. He is enamored of Russia and WWII and Nazi Germany. He is very intense and opinionated, as many 17 year old boys are. Nearly 17. His birthday is on the tour.

---

So in mentioning the weather, we've been trapped in some sort of nightmare of a weather system where for nearly 21 days it has rained, been cloudy, been cloudy and rained, thundered, and oh, the sun peeked through but then went away and it rained more. Last Saturday night I had a party for Jess (late birthday/what the heck party) that we had to postpone a week because it was forecasted that it was going to thunder and lightning all day. It just ended up being cloudy and gloomy, we could have had the party but meh.

Lucky for me, the same thing happened and it was just cloudy and gloomy. The rain held off until after 11pm. We did sit in the yard by my brand new fire pit (unused since Saturday because it has done nothing but rain since, and I bet it's all rusted out now. Grrr) and we watched a wall of fog slowly creep south down our street and literally stop at the corner at the end of my driveway.

"Did you see that?" one of the kids asked me. Yup. I sure did. Thank you God for keeping the rain away, and the fog.

Whew. We squeezed in an epic party, where that fire pit raged outside and Guitar Hero raged inside. People came and went between scenes, and we even made hobo pies in the hobo pie makers.

It was a really fun and amazing party. Jess combined her groups of friends, from school and Rebel, and all told it was an amazingly fun mix. There may be a love connection too, but sssshhhhhh, I didn't say that. heh. Hamlet and his mom and little sister were here, and they stayed for the whole shebang. It was so much fun to spend time with Hamlet's mom, I don't get to spend time with too many of the parents from Rebel and I've made a nice friendship with her. So it was an incredibly good time. I'd do it again this weekend if it weren't for the fact that yeah, it's going to rain.

---

Geoff got off to an incredibly bumpy start at Rebel, and it was heartbreaking for me because he finished off the academic year strong and well behaved, went to camp and immediately reverted back to Stupid Geoff... acting inappropriately and saying inappropriate things.

Right now he's on a day to day basis with a behavior contract in place, and if he messes up, he's gone. And he has to go to Camp Grandma for the rest of the summer. Which, I know he does NOT want to do. Keri was kind enough to not throw him out of town, but has made it clear that sometimes kids don't fit the program and the program does not fit kids. And we may have that kid.

But, we'll see how he does, and daily I pray for him, that he holds it together and gets through the day AND gets something out of the program. Please pray for him if you're the praying type, and for his directors who have to work with him.

---

This past week a lot of people died. I have had a lot of thoughts about Michael Jackson and Farrah, but am not sure how to articulate them in a way that won't offend a lot of people. So I think I'm going to keep the bulk my thoughts to myself on this one. Suffice to say, I believe we're all to be judged when we're dead. Not by the media or the court of public opinion. And some of you don't believe in the afterlife or God as judge the way I do. But. all I have to say is that it would be interesting to be there to hear what judgment is leveled against either of them, or any of the other major celebs who just died for that matter. And our pastor at Church this past weekend did a big sermon on Grace and Forgiveness, and how we are all deserving of such... so I only wonder what happens next.

Something to think about I guess. If you think about those things.

Geoff puts first aid training to use on mom's forehead

Yes, I know it has been a month. But there has been nothing really to write about so I've just maintained radio silence instead of babbling nonsense for no reason. The weather has prevented much outside fun from going down, so I've not had a lot to report. Hey! I did dishes! Hey! I folded laundry. Hey! I played Bejeweled Blitz on facebook for 10 straight hours. That is kind of what it's been all about lately.

But, because four of you have emailed me in the last couple days wondering what my deal is, here is the update.

Jess is a Senior.

She is done with 11th grade. She received a couple accommodations and got into the National German Honor Society, which is good for her CV looking forward to college. She took the German SAT language test, and thinks she bombed it because she didn't have the vocabulary. I told her to take it again next year if she wanted to. No worries. Jess has been no-maintenance, no worries. And I'm hoping it stays that way. I am working again on her Shakespeare program for 2009. Tour dates for July for "Hamlet" are falling into place. If you're in the greater Boston Area and want to know where, drop me a line. We were supposed to have a party today for her birthday/end of year fun-ness, but the forecast was for rain. It has rained here every day for like a month, so I listened to the forecast and postponed the party to next weekend. Stupid weather. It is now 11pm and no rain has fallen. Grrr. Fingers crossed for next Saturday to behave weatherwise.

And soon, we start looking at colleges. So that should be interesting.

Geoff has finished 6th grade, finally. We live to tell.

The last couple days were rough simply because he could not WAIT for it to be over....

I thought every day that he would pummel someone, but he didn't. He managed to keep it all together, and did an amazingly good job at the "completion program" held on Thursday.

It rained that day, and they were supposed to have a Field Day outside, but they had a DJ come in and the 6th graders had a dance party, with Geoff dancing like a mad man in the middle of everything. You will notice here that Geoff didn't use his notecard to do his part, because he is a consumate professional. You will also notice he looks ridiculous with a Hawaiian shirt on and a German Youth Soccer scarf on. He loves that scarf, and he wears it as often as he can. I asked him to please not wear it AT the presentation, but he kept it on.

One mom approached me after and said that it made her think of Harry Potter and the school scarves from the first 2 movies. She had such a big smile on her face, that I couldn't feel that he looked like an idiot if he brought that much happy to someone.

I wish I had stayed to watch him dance.

But I did meet the girl that I think he has a crush on, and she is sweet and lovely. And I left the school feeling relieved that elementary school was done. Over. Thank You, God. It should be bittersweet, not a sigh of relief. But I'm looking forward to 7th grade like you would not believe.

We took the Boy Scout troop on a canoe trip.

Last year Doug went alone with Geoff and they ended up pitching their canoe in some rapids, and it rained like a Mofo and some of the kids were borderline hypothermic.

This year, Doug wanted me to come, and we left Jess alone for the first time at home ever... which worried me somewhat because when I turned 17 my parents left me alone and that was the night of "Tenderize the Night" with Patti and Jenssie and a LOT of beer. Cough. Anyway. I had nothing to worry about from Jess, she went to Boston to see They Might Be Giants (Jealous!) and didn't do anything wrong or bad. Whew.

I really needed to go, because since becoming Troop Chaplain I have not done anything for the Troop.

The Saturday portion of the trip was all canoeing, and we had a blast. I had taken a bunch of online training courses from the BSA for safe water activitis and was feeling great. At the end of the trip, I supervised the Troop in some crazy water swimming action due to some heavy rain and fast currents in the water. I made them all wear PFDs, and they didn't bitch at me. I had a great time with the boys, and I think I'm crazy about all of them.

Camping with the Boy Scouts is fun too, because they do all the work. I didn't have to cook or lift a finger. It was BEAUTIFUL.

Here is Geoff and his canoemate Michael.

Geoff and Michael are classmates, and 3 years ago I never would have imagined them being friends.

Michael is an AMAZING person. Patient, kind, understanding, like no one I've ever met. He and his brother Matt "get" Geoff. They LIKE him. They are tolerant of him, and help him when he needs help. I think I'm in love with them.

Michael and Geoff shared a canoe, and it was a riot because Geoff didn't GET how it worked to use a canoe. Geoff was in back, and whatever side Michael rowed on, Geoff did. Which causes the canoe to kind or go in a circle? ish? Kinda?

After lunch, I told Michael to ride in back, Geoff in front, and Michael would yell out to Geoff what side to row on. It worked out much better.

Most boys would have crapped their pants over dealing with Geoff on this day. Michael was all laid back. It frustrated him, but he didn't lose it. And God Bless Him for that. Always.

They love when Geoff tells stories. They get him going, and he makes up these tales that can't be really outlined here. But Michael and Matt just love it.

As their Troop Chaplain, I had a whole thing prepared for Sunday Morning. But I didn't get to do it. It started raining at about 11pm, and by the time we got up it was a sheer downpour. We made breakfast and broke camp. I couched my sermon, which I wrote especially for the canoe weekend, and will save it for another day.

On Monday, I took my car to the shop. When we were camping, we'd damaged the front bumper at the parking area, so I wanted them to pop it back in. They found that my back brakes were shot to shit, and I needed an oil change and yadda yadda, so they gave me a loaner car. I left the car there and took off in their 2009 Forrester.

It is taller than an Outback.

I went to pick Geoff up at school because he and I both had physicals, and after getting him I went out to the car and WHIPPED open the car door.

And smacked myself in the face with the door. Holy Shit did I hurt myself.

Geoff took this photo of me when we got home. I had blood running down my face and arm as we headed back to the house on an unanticipated side trip.

He just finished his First Aid badge for Boy Scouts, so I quizzed him. The gash over my eye was bleeding like a mofo. He told me to apply pressure and cold to it. It would stop bleeding. He prepared a sterile wash for me, and went and got bandages for me, and neosporin.

"It hurts." I told him. "I would like to take something for the pain."

"You can't have aspirin," he told me, "it makes your blood run faster." So he got me some Ibuprofen. I smiled. He passed his First Aid Badge test, and here he was a week later doing actual First Aid on mom's face.

We went to our physicals and my doctor, who has been my doctor since before Doug and I got married, heck... he was the school doctor at my college so I can say he has been my doctor since 1988 really... he laughed at me. yeah. I made my doctor laugh.

It is healing nicely. Thank you.

Nothing else really to tell. Just planning the Shakespeare tour and trying to deal with the weather. That's about it. All of the canoe photos are here, and let it be said that I had a blast, with or without Boy Scouts, and I would like to go back tomorrow if I could.

One day we will all be at the farmhouse table, she hopes

"Does it take a death to learn what life is worth?"
-Jackson Browne

We're back from our journey to the Beaver Valley. It was an interesting time, with interesting experiences, and I'm not sure what happens next. A lot of things went through my mind and heart and I'm still processing a lot of it. Nothing bad, just deep thoughts. All told, I don't think I've ever been to a wake where there was more laughter and joking and happiness. And that is a good thing.

We left Wednesday night after dropping the dogs at the kennel and made it across the NY state line into Pennsylvania (Matamoras, to be exact).

It was pouring rain, we were hydroplaning and trucks were just spraying us with road crap and water and it just got overwhelming. So we stopped for the night. A nice slow morning and breakfast, we knew we were not in a huge hurry to get out there and we took our time. We stopped at a waterfall in the Poconos and really enjoyed the sites. After the horrible rain the days prior, the waterfall was raging and it was well worth the stop.

The hotel was welcoming and comfortable. We had dinner with Doug's parents and settled in. A quick check of Facebook revealed that my friend Mark was looking to possibly get together with us at some point. We crashed out, and made arrangements to get together with Mark and the fam the following morning with the (seriously) only free time were going to have for the weekend.

His house had burned down last summer and he and his wife bought a great big huge beautiful old house in downtown Beaver Falls and he wanted us to see it.

We were more than happy to come by and check it out. We had a wonderful visit, filled with college discussion (ours and Jess' upcoming choices) and lots of lovin' from the dog.

We ran back to the hotel and got ready for visiting hours. A little stressed and slightly late. Doug's mom told us were were supposed to be there at 2:30 for the 3pm start, and we got in the car at 2:45. I felt bad, but no one said anything or noticed so ... okay. Visiting hours were painfully long. Five hours. I spent a good amount of time watching my niece and nephew, ages 7 and 4, and some other family kidlins who were obliviously not interested in spending time next to the coffin the visiting room.

As always, I had my camera and took scads of pictures of the kids. I figured when are all four of them going to be together and dressed well again other than another funeral.

One of the highlights for me was the time I spent chatting with Doug's great aunt Dove. She has been sick for several years, and here her sister goes before her, suddenly and unexpectedly. She told me she was shocked and knows that she won't be around much longer.

But she's sharp as a tack and loves to talk, doesn't have a hard time hearing even in a noisy room, and is very funny. I asked if Dove was her real name and she shook her head and made a face. "Doris. Which is horrible. Dove is so much nicer. They started calling me that when I was a baby, and it just stuck around."

So she's Dove.

She asked about our house, what the kids like to do, what I like to do. I've only met her once or twice since I discovered Doug in 1986... and she has a great memory of all kinds of things. She remembered one year when we came to the family reunion. The only year we've come to the family reunion. Geoff was 18 months old. "He's such a big gentleman now. Look at him," Dove said to me as we stood next to her sister's body.

"You need to come back more often. I need to get to know you better." She said that to me and it broke my heart. She meant it. She honestly liked talking to me about life and stuff, and we had a few good laughs, especially when I agreed with her not liking her name due to the fact I have a middle name I'm not at all fond of.

Visiting hours ended and we retired with pizza and Doug's sister and niece to our hotel room. Geoff swam for a while and Elyse watched him. We chatted until 11 or so and eventually got the room cleared out of guests and got to bed.

---

Morning came too soon. We managed to get ready on time and get over to the funeral home.

Dove told me that she didn't know if this was real or not, that sometimes she wakes up in the night and asks herself if the events of the day prior were a dream or reality, and she found herself doing that late at night after going to bed.

I told her I have the same problem sometimes and I was glad to know someone else does too. But this is real, and we held hands and just spent time.

The service for the funeral was very, very short. I felt like there was everything missing. It was held at the funeral home, not at a church, and the pastor was someone not connected to the family that I know of, which confused me. I'm including this photo that I took three years ago next week, it came to my mind as the pastor did his service.

He did a whole big thing about how Grandma was so family oriented, and how she loved being home. She often talked about her mom's house, and the farm house kitchen table.

There were 12 kids, 11 of which survived into adulthood (the first one died in infancy. A lot of people would not have 11 more kids after losing their first born, but this was the 1920s or so, and yeah, people did that...).

It was a place to talk, a place to gather, a place to wind down at the end of the day. So now, she's gone "home," and the pastor painted a picture of a sunny kitchen dining area with a big table, spread with good food and drink. Pappy and her son John who passed two years ago are first to greet her. Her mom and dad, and her brothers and sisters who had gone before her, each rise to greet her in love.

He said they were enjoying a good chat, and Mary walks into the room. They rise to greet her, hug her, kiss her and welcome her.

And that was where I lost it.

Imagining that sort of homecoming, that sort of welcome. Like coming home from college for Thanksgiving and a five hour trip took you twelve freaking hours. Walking in the door, finding your family around that table, talking politics or current events or reminiscing about things that had gone by and they rise to meet you... Or a soldier, returning from service with the duffel bag over his shoulder, stepping in and setting that burden down and getting that cup of coffee handed to him after all the hugs.

That sort of image of welcoming home just filled me with sadness and joy all at the same moment. I realized I won't be walking into her home ever again and getting that greeting from her. I wouldn't have anyway since she had moved into assisted living. But I have walked in on that kind of scene and been made welcome. Welcomed home. Welcomed as a part of her family.

The pastor kind of ruined it for me by taking this image a step further and imagining that the family parted and at the head of the table sat Jesus Himself, holding her baby brother that she never got to meet.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying Jesus won't be welcoming saints who come into his kingdom of heaven but I don't know that he's hanging out at the farm house kitchen table holdin' babies. I think Jesus meets us at the door, gives us that big hug and points the way in to where the family is. He can't be at EVERYone's farm house kitchen table waiting for them, you know? And we can hang out with him individually or in groups... but that farm house kitchen table, that first moment and meeting? Not really sure he wants in on that scene. What do you think?

This image stuck with me and it made me think of my photo of our kitchen, a place I'm sure she would love.

She is home, welcomed by those who wait. Pappy went not quite 10 years ago (I can't believe it has been that long) and was the first to hug and kiss her. She was so sad for so long after John's passing, and I know she is joyful to be reunited with him ... And whether or not Jesus was sitting there with a nice cuppa or not is not relevant. She's there. And they await the next one to join.

Not sure if it will be Dove or another one of the remaining five siblings, but someone will pass.

They will gather again and ask "is this real? Am I dreaming this?" like Dove did, holding my hand and looking at me with big, loving eyes.

Anyway. Tito, hand me a tissue. I'm crying again just thinking on it.

---

We had a family meal at a local restaurant, and went back to the hotel to chill. Geoff had a long swim, met three young brothers at the pool and all four of them together did cannonballs and cheered one another. It was totally Boy Time, and it was refreshing. He needed that after being so well behaved for so many hours.

After the other boys left, Geoff and I were swimming and he said "I'm kind of sad that the service was so short. I thought people would get up and share what they thought about Grandma."

I told him that I was also surprised. All told, the service was about 15 minutes long. I asked him to go ahead and tell me what he would have said if he had been given the opportunity to stand and eulogize her. I asked if he'd written her a poem or song yet. He said he hadn't. He told me that he would have said that he loved her, and that she was always so nice to him. I don't think he honestly could say anything more than that, he didn't get to spend a lot of time with her. Whenever we came out we'd visit, of course, but he didn't get to have a close relationship with her. But his assessment is spot on. She did love him, and she was always kind to him.

Saturday night we went out with Doug's parents to an Italian restaurant. Ate too much and slept well. The following day we went out to Ohio to see Doug's other grandmother for Mother's Day. I was worried about "abandoning" Doug's mom on Mother's Day but she was relieved to have some time alone to herself. She doesn't get along with her mother in law, so she didn't accompany us to Ohio.

Doug's dad took us to East Carmel to his Grandparents' gravesite. We then went to Grandma's new place at her assisted living home. She was in great spirits, and we got there an hour later than we'd anticipated and she said she was afraid we weren't going to come.

Now there, Middie. How would we not come to you?

Diane and J were there too with the kiddies and we had a lot of fun visiting. Doug's aunt came up from Virginia, and it was a regular Down Home family reunion. Missing only Doug's mom and Doug's cousin. So this photo is as complete a full Gary's bunch of the family photo as we're ever going to get.

It was a good long visit and the ride home was blocked by a car accident right outside Doug's uncle's house, two doors down from Doug's parents' house. We had to drive all over hell and Western Pennsylvania to get to the driveway of the house. And then, of course, we had to go find out all the details of the accident. So by the time we went out to dinner that night at it was about 9pm.

Geoff ended the visit to Western PA wonderfully with probably what has to be the funniest verbal mistake ever. He read from the menu out loud when ordering and said "Classic Black Anus Burger," instead of Angus Burger.

Damn if Doug and I didn't laugh ourselves into near heart failure. Geoff didn't flip out at his mistake and our laughter, but weathered it well. I don't think he thinks it is funny, but a year ago he would have flipped the table over in the restaurant screaming at all of us to stop laughing at him. And it is good ammo for us too, because he busted on me for making a verbal gaffe and Jess said "oh, so do YOU ever misspeak, Mr. Black Anus Burger??? Hmmm???" It will be used again and again on him I am sure.

We packed up Monday morning and headed home, getting back here with moments to spare to pick up the dogs. They were so happy to see us, and we them. It was good to be home.

I am thinking we may be back out there in the fall to visit University of Pittsburgh. It's on Jess' short list of schools, and so we may make another trip there. I'm hoping that we don't need to make one for another funeral soon. It does feel like we just go out there anymore for weddings and funerals. And that's sad. I want to see Dove again, just to chat and laugh and visit, at least one more time.

Aren't we all just actively dying?

We got a call this morning from Doug's mom. Seems Doug's grandmother passed away this morning. Doug knew it was coming. He counseled his mom last week when she called and described what was going on with her. He told her, "mom, she is actively dying." I had to go look it up. I learned a lot about my husband's knowledge of palliative care during the dying process, and how he was politely letting his mom know that it would not be long before grandma passed away. And Doug was right.

The phone rang at 6:50 this morning. Geoff being the only one up at that hour answered the phone, and chatted with his grandma for a minute before bringing the phone to us

"Grandma's on the phone," he said as he stood next to our bed. I was fast asleep but heard his voice soft and clear.

Here we go.

I got up and started the coffee, encouraged Geoff to ready up for school. Doug talked to his mom until 7:30. Grandma died at the hospital, in her sleep. Doug discussed our tentative plans, and left it with her that we would come down as soon as we could possibly do so.

It wasn't a surprise. This past month was hard on a body, and she bore it and let it go. I cried as I washed some dishes and listened to them talk.

I was glad we got to see her in November at Sarah and Tom's wedding, but I'm also sad we didn't get a last real chance to see her or be by her side because we knew this was coming.

I think Doug was waiting to see if she made it through this weekend to maybe go make a visit, but he didn't get the chance to

.... and now we're going to go make a visit anyway.

---

Geoff knew something was up. He came in while Doug and I were discussing whether or not we should tell him now or wait until after school. "Um, so... what's going on?"

Doug opted to tell him. We sat here at the dining table and he bit back tears and his skin flushed as he started to fight the sad. "That's it," he pronounced, "I'm officially an unbeliever because God keeps killing my family." I guess Uncle John's passing in 2006 was still pretty fresh in his mind, fresh enough to feel God was ganging up on us and picking us all off.

We let him know that this was not unexpected, she was old. She had a good run. "Yeah, but the oldest person in the world is 114, so why couldn't she make it a little closer to that age!?" His cuteness touched me deeply, and he'll kick your ass if you say that he's cute so watch out. Doug encouraged him to recognize that great grandma had a really good run of things, a good family, she was good to us and loved us deeply, and she loved God very much so we are certain that she awaits us in Heaven. She'd be sad if she knew Geoff was giving up on God just because she had passed on. He seemed to get that. We gave him the option of skipping school but he went. I'm glad he did. I hope he had friends he could talk to in class who would be willing to hear what he was feeling, and gave to him the support he needs from his peers and friends.

Geoff, your GGS loved you. Please, do not ever forget that buddy. Follow her examples of loving God and family, and being a good listener, and you will do well on this earth.

---

I'm heading to work tomorrow, and we will leave after we drop the dogs off at the kennel at 4:30pm. Not sure how far we'll make it. I'm hoping maybe Clearfield PA. We shall see.

Hopefully it will not be anything like our last funeral related trip that we made out there in 2006. Fingers crossed and prayers go to God...

I've arranged for kenneling for the three dogs, babysitting for the guinea pigs and Geoff's betta fish Kevin the Red. I've let the right people know at both schools that both children will not be in school Thursday through Monday. I've got my work done to the point that it is under control and tomorrow will hopefully just be incidentals and some graphic work that I do weekly that is 99% done and just needs to be fully completed.

And when people ask Doug what she died of his answer is "she died of being 86." And that's the truth.

Escape From Bellevue and Other Stories... my review

A friend of mine from High School wrote a book.
Now, everyone's friend, uncle, dog and cat lately are getting book deals. Not sure how the publication industry is "dying" the death it is when I personally bought four memoirs of people I either have been reading for a while (Rob @ Schuyler's Monster) or I know personally.
In this case, the book is by Christopher Campion, and it is called "Escape From Bellevue, A Dive Bar Odyssey."
I enjoyed it so much I actually took the time to review it for Amazon.com, and what is extra frightening is I actually think my review itself is one of the better things I've written in my life.
I would encourage anyone to go read this book, whether or not they give a damn about an alcoholic out of control lead singer of an indie rock band, or the underground music scene in NYC during the late 80s/and most of the 90s... But simply because I'm nothing more than a pimp for all my friends, yo.
And I've got my boy Chrissy's back. After all he's been through, my brother Huntingtonian can use some serious love.
Here's my review:

Growing up a fellow Huntingtonian from a "Livers with Feet" family, I found Chris Campion's Icarian tale very compelling. Unlike Icarus, who was presumed drowned at sea, Mr. Campion gets the chance to swim to a metaphorical shore and fly again. And crash again, swim to shore. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. Campion asks you to grab hold tightly to his pinstripe jacketed coattails as he runs roughshod (drunk, stoned and high) through Huntington's Stinky Corner, to Vanillanova, to the bright lights of the Bowery Ballroom, and then unfortunately the smelly gutter behind it.

With the gift of gab as if he'd been lowered by the ankles at birth to kiss our shared Motherland's famous Blarney Stone, Campion is "that guy" at the end of the bar in Finnegan's (actually, more like The Valencia); full of stories, full of adventures, full of booze and full of crap. He sets up hilarious vignette after unbelievable vignette, from high school garage band insanity, to a sister rising to his defense with a dairy-laden baked potato in hand, to coked-up rodeo clowns (seriously), to the straight jacket ... and then back to off-Broadway success. You almost get a "Malcolm in the Middle" feel as he sets things up for you, dear reader, and turns to the invisible camera addressing just you, to let you know in that same Frankie Muniz kind of way, "this is where it gets REALLY weird."

"Escape from Bellevue" is more than your standard Mr. Mackey "Drugs are bad, m'kay?" tale of rockstar self- and over-indulgence. This is the tale of a young man's complete loss of faith, not simply in himself but in his God. Combine that kind of existential crisis with a lifestyle fueled by substances not naturally found in the human body, and you get a rather volatile anti-hero of whom the Irish Poets would all be proud.

My only criticism of the book is that it is written too colloquially, with too many "oughta" "kinda" and other slangy words and terms used, and I found it distracting at times. It works at the end of the bar, but in a novel or memoirs, that sort of writing should be tidied up a bit. Campion confesses he has never thought of himself as a writer, but rather a songwriter... but this would have been the perfect spot for an editor clean up sloppy, easy writing and make it the work of a real "writer." Because Campion, whether he likes it or not, is a writer.

To take a famous quote entirely out of context "God watches out for little children, fools, drunks..." and at most times through this book your humble narrator is all three of those things simultaneously, keeping God quite busy. Whether or not Christopher John Campion finds that relationship with God again, I'll leave it to you to find out by reading the book. But as I finished the story late one night, the following morning I only had to laugh and thank Him that Chris survived to these days to tell his tales. I hope you'll pick up this book and feel the same.

Chris and I actually discussed at length my one "fault" that I found in the book. He said he wanted it to sound like he was talking, telling the story. He didn't want it edited down to take out the "am I right?" "ya know..." and other things one says when one is storytelling. His editors desperately tried to get him to change that... and he said it lost the humor, the story telling, the edge, and sounded too antiseptic.
I told him that it is really easy to make a narrative sound like it is still a storytelling piece by editing it up a bit. Really make it a story, instead of a very long anecdotal episode.
We agreed to disagree. And it was a beautiful discussion.
Also, I confessed to him that until I was 30 I didn't know there was a lighthouse in Huntington Harbor. I'd never heard of it, never seen it. In the book he outlines a very specific adventure he took out there the night before a family intervention with his father for his da's drinking problem when he was about 15. His Huntington was very different from my Huntington. We spent the better part of two hours going back and forth with emails, and it felt sooooo good to talk to an old friend, who is still the same, but different. And I mean it when I say I thank God he survived his darkest times. The would would be a less fun place without Chris Campion. I truly believe that. 

So go buy it on my recommendation. It might make you cry. It will make you laugh, and you'll say "there is NO way that happened." If you know anyone who is or was an addict, you'll totally get the story, the events, the reality of it all. If you're in a band, you'll totally understand Chris and his dreams. And if you come from a family of "livers with feet" you'll REALLY get it. And if none of the above... hell, just go buy the damn book. Thanks.
If I can help it, Chris and his band The Knockout Drops will hopefully come to Boston and do their off-Broadway show (which came before the book, and the book is based upon the show...) up here. We need the Drops! 

Anyway -- I will have the laptop with me on this trip (again, never ending thanks to you Linda and Ronniw! and that misspelling is intentional, don't worry!) I will try and blog something. Maybe. I know I'll have pictures. And I wonder if the same cookie monster blue seat covers will be on the chairs at the graveside service. Hmmmm. 



More later, vicious freaks.

Shick, Shick, BOOM! and an Eagle Court of Honor

When last we spoke, dear reader, we were in the midst of a very busy weekend. I shall recap. Hope you have a bowl of popcorn and are ready for the long and winding road.

Saturday we had our Eagle Court of Honor.

Usually at Courts of Honor in Boy Scouts, all the boys who have achieved excellence in the fields of achievement and excellence get their excellent recognitions of achievement. Rank advancement, merit badges, yadda yadda yadda.

For an Eagle Court of Honor, it's all about the Eagle. And if you're interested in the photos, you can go straight to the Flickr Set.

Our boy Jason passed his Board of Review (where a bunch of people review his dates of rank advancement, his merit badges, and his community service project and deem him worthy) back in February. He wanted to have his Court of Honor at the summer camp where he has worked for the past several years, and of course one must wait for decent weather to do such things, so he picked this weekend. And he planned a blow out... a party like he's never had. Eat your heart out Super Sweet 16ers on MTV, this was a very good time.

Plans went into effect, and he put together a really nice ceremony of people to speak, and things he wanted done.

Things were also done that normally we've never done before. Jason was "escorted" to the council circle by all the Eagles in the audience. And by "escorted" I mean they lifted him up and carried him down the hill. As he passed, our Troop saluted him, which made it even funnier to me.

I learned something that I did not know about Jason that day, for as well as I thought I knew him. Jason was never in Cub Scouts. He joined Boy Scouts when he was in sixth grade, when our Scoutmaster's son invited him to a meeting. Most boys go into Boy Scouts from the Cub Scouting program. not a lot join once they're in Middle School. But he was invited, came into the troop, and started his rank advancement very slowly, taking two years to advance his first rank (for the record, Geoff went to Scout and Tenderfoot in less than a year, and in June will advance to Second Class).

The Scoutmaster's son didn't stick with the scouting program, but the Scoutmaster stayed with the boys who were there, because he loved the program and the kids in it and wanted to see them through.

Jason is his first Eagle, out of six kids that were there when he started. His first and only. Our troop has 30 kids in it now... and a lot of that credit goes to the fact we have so many older scouts still sticking with the program, working hard and teaching the younger ones. I've talked to other troops and committee members and found they have five or ten boys, they don't camp, they don't do anything, they haven't had an Eagle in 15 years. We haven't had one since 2003, simply because we didn't have older boys in the troop. A lot came in during Jason's year, and of them two are left, and one will probably get his Eagle before the end of the year.

An Eagle gets a pin, not a badge.

His mom got to pin his shirt, which was very sweet and I could see the joy on her face as she was standing there with him. I know her well, and have worked a lot with her. She does an awful lot for the troop and in some ways I think of her as my mentor. After getting his pin, he was given pins for his mother, father and his grandmother, who did not expect one, and she was just giddy because of it.

Finally, the Eagle is asked to pick someone to be his "Eagle Mentor" to make sure he stays on the right trail going forward in life, and he picked our Scoutmaster, which surprised our Scoutmaster very pleasantly.

Everyone said 'aaaaawwwwwww!' a lot, there were lots of hugs, and it was very touching.

Then, the Eagle is "roasted."

His friends and those who know him best come forward and tell stories about his silliness, and make fun of him. Jason has a lot of "material" that one can make fun of him for, so his closer friends went to town with that and really had a field day. The summer camp director told a story about pranks Jason has played on him in the past, and Jason sat there sheepishly, denying all the accusations laid out against him.

Our State Representative Bruce Tarr was on hand to give Jason a commendation from the Massachusetts State Senate, and tell tales of silliness and boyscouttery himself. He is active in the District Council, so it was nice to have him there.

The best part, aside from the humor and the pinning of his grandmother where I thought her head was going to explode, was when his two younger brothers presented him with a flag that was flown in his honor over the US Capitol Building and sent to him with a letter of commendation from Senator Kennedy's office.

He didn't expect that. He knew pretty much everything else that was coming, but this was not on the radar.

All told, it was a wonderful and very meaningful ceremony.

With four boys lined up behind Jason on the Eagle Trail, I think that they're inspired to do it and will stick with the program and do their community service projects and finish their required merit badges. Geoff tells me he wants to be an Eagle Scout, and I think watching Jason over the last year has really inspired him. He loves the Scouting program that he's in, and I'm glad of it.

And I know some of you may scoff, or say derisive things about Boy Scouts or the Scouting Program itself.

I know that a lot of people have issues with some of the National program philosophies. I understand that. I disagree with some of the things that have been laid out in the past. But it is kind of like being "Catholic" and not agreeing with the Pope. As long as our boys are able to run their program, and we're doing what we're supposed to be doing, I'm very happy on the troop level.

I see kids who are nerdy and uncomfortable coming into a skillset that they can use that gives them confidence, and being shown the way by other kids who a few years ago were nerdy and uncomfortable. I see boys learning how to be effective leaders.

Yeah, some of you may make fun of the green kneesocks, but I see a mensch here. And I love this kid.

Congrats Jason. You've done well.

We had a big party after, with tons of food and happiness. Jess came too, even though she calls this Nerd Scouts, because she's friends with Jason. And because I knew she'd get along with a bunch of the other guys closer to her age that were there and boy did she ever have fun. Mostly she regaled them with stories of Geoff, and the laughed, and Geoff laughed, and all told I think that it made them like Geoff a little more knowing that he terrorizes his big sister. When Geoff gets excited or thinks something is awesome, he yells "Yahtzeeeeeee!" I told him that meant "Horray!" in Russian. What does he know.

So Jess told them stories of how Geoff drives her nuts with "Yahtzeeeeee!" and now they are ALL YELLING YAHTZEE! all the time. And she thinks it is funny. I told her "You think it is funny when Chris and Stevie and those guys yell Yahtzee but when Geoff does it you want to KILL him."

Who knows, maybe she does think he's funny and someday she won't hate his guts as much as she seems to now. Perhaps he'll let her sleep past 7am on a Saturday morning some one of these fine days by not yelling Yahtzeee! in his bedroom.

It was a good time.

---

Sunday I overslept church, bad person that I am... ha!

Justification: we didn't get home until late and I was up until 2am messing with the photos so I could upload them to the troop website. I got up and got ready and went out to the Range with my friend Jay.

Funny story for those who do not recall. Two years ago I stumbled across him by accident when Universal Hub linked to a blog entry he did about our cub scout troop and some, shall we say, poor behavior by some of the male parental units on an overnight camping trip. My husband was on that trip, so I emailed him and let him know that Doug was there, and shared some of Doug's thoughts about the experience with him. I also realized at that moment that his cover was blown. Someone from his hometown knew who he was. Mwaaah ha ha ha haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. And I fully respected that and him, and a friendship through blogging and scouting was forged.

Anywho, Jay is a gun owner in addition to being a cubmaster. Getting to know him over the past couple of years, he offered to take me to the Range if ever I was interested.

And yeah, I was.

I wanted to go shoot guns since I was in high school. Not all Dirty Harry or Gangsta Gangsta or anything, but just go, shoot a gun, and say I'd done it.

I also wanted to do it so I had knowledge (and you know knowledge is power) as Geoff was becoming interested in the skills involved with rifle shooting through the Boy Scouts. I figured, what the heck... my son and my husband got to shoot guns at Boy Scout Camp and I didn't even get a lousy T-shirt.

So we picked this weekend and went out on Sunday afternoon. The first half hour or so was Safety Time. Jay had me learn Coopers 4 rules of gun safety. We went over the two stances, Weaver and Isosceles, and I felt the Weaver was more comfortable because it was like archery, which I actually was good at back in the day.

He then taught me how to load a gun with fake bullets called "snap caps." Another one of Jay's friends was there with us. B described himself as a "relative n00b" to shooting, but he had some mad skill and was very helpful. Jay was on right side and Brad was on my left when I picked up the first of the guns, and Brad taught me quickly that I as holding it so incorrectly that if the gun were loaded and went off I would probably blow my index finger off. Thanks B! Jay didn't see where I had my fingers, as he was on the other se of me, so it was good to have that second set of eyes on my n00bness.

Jay started me out with plain paper plates for a "non-competitive" feel. He's had people who go out on their first shoot and get upset or angry when they don't hit the bullseye. I assured him that I didn't think I'd feel that way, but he wanted to start out with a nice big target, and a non-competitive feel. You can tell he works with little kids. heh.

The list of guns I shot, in order:

• Smith & Wesson Model 17 .22LR (long rifle) revolver.
• Smith & Wesson Model 422 .22LR semi-automatic (this is the one with the red dot sight).
• Ruger Security Six .38 Special/.357 Magnum revolver (it is chambered for .357 Magnum but will accept .38 Special as well)
• Browning Hi-Power 9mm semi-automatic
• CZ-52 7.62X25mm semi-automatic (the Eastern European "Commie" gun with the "necked" ammunition).
• And the rifle: Remington model 572 Fieldmaster .22LR pump-action rifle.(No compass in the stock or thing that tells time, though)...

We shot the pants off those suckers, and that was a lot of fun. He had me go through each of guns, and I moved back and forth between the ones I liked best. He moved us up to targets, and I laughed my ass off when i hit the bullseye dead on in the center with the rifle.

I shot guns, dudes.

I liked the Ruger and the Rifle best. The Commie gun was way too strong for me for a beginner. I think. But I shot it anyway. I had a hard time controlling it with the recoil, and felt a lot more comfortable with things shooting .22 or .38 special bullets.

I enjoyed the rifle, and discovered something about myself. I always knew my left eye was stronger than my right. I use it when I'm shooting with a camera that has just a viewfinder. And being right handed, sometimes this works out well. On a rifle, not so much. I couldn't see anything through the sights on the rifle when shooting righty.

So I switched to shooting left handed.

It was harder to shoot lefty, but I could see everything great. My accuracy improved when I put the rifle down on the shooting carol and used my elbow to balance. It also occurred to me that Geoff's problems with visual spatial relations makes a lot of sense to me now. After Boy Scout camp this summer, he had told me that he couldn't shoot the rifle and I couldn't figure out what the problem would possibly be. Well, I understand a lot more now about how the sights work, and the added layer of a target makes things difficult to see. I've had several friends say that this makes sense and he can learn to overcome this deficit and be able to do it. We shall see. But hey, now I totally understand what he's talking about.

Long and the short of it is, I will go back again and do it some more. I need to work on my upper body strength and control to reduce the recoil on some of the guns, like that Commie gun. Jay shoots it and it doesn't even move. I shoot it and it's all like "I'M CRAZY!!!!" heh.

We were there for a good four hours.

It was a really good time. Toward the end I had just as much fun taking pictures, and y'all know I love to use the macro setting on my camera.

All the photos are here if you're interested.

I guess that about covers things. It was a busy weekend for sure. I usually don't get that much going on, where both days are 100% filled with awesome... but there you go.

Guster @ UNH!!!

Once April hit us here at the way out in, the doldrums and laziness of late winter were washed away and we hit the ground running. Sometimes in life, I don't update because I don't have much to say. Other times, it is because there is so much to say that I can't find the time or words. Right now I'm in the middle of one of those times.

Easter was cold but sunny, and church was nice. My kids are too old for the Easter bunny thing, so they (well, mostly Geoff because Jess played aloof and uncaring) helped hide eggs inside the sanctuary and then helped the little wee kids find them. I had my camera, and had an amazing time taking pictures of the 10 or so little ones who were there.

We didn't go anywhere or do anything ... we stayed home, had a nice ham, and just relaxed together.

Since Doug has been working on Saturdays, I've felt like we've had no time together like that so it felt nice to just do nothing together. I dyed eggs with the kids, and it's something that I'm glad that it is something they have not gotten sick of doing, and we had a wonderful time.

The week went by pretty quickly. Thursday night I took Jess and another friend to see Guster at UNH.

It was a general admission show, and I was wary about doing that because GA shows are very out of control. We got there exceptionally early and scored some really great seats up off the floor where the band was easily seen. We were as close as we could get without going into the viper's den.

As I suspected, the floor indeed get insane. The college student ticket was 5 bucks so there were a lot of people who didn't know the band who were just there to be crazy. And I was also pleasantly surprised at how many people knew the songs, the big hits. the Fa Fas and the 4, 3, 2, 1, and ping pong balls were flying.

Then, the crowd surfing started.

About five songs into the show I saw the first. At one point I counted 20 people up there flying around. Heads and torsos dropping and legs akimbo, girls, guys, arms flailing. Damn. This is a GUSTER concert, not Red Hot Chili Peppers or something.

Ryan asked the crowd if they were okay with the grope machine and the audience went nuts. They did a little impromptu song, which I think they picked up doing from Barenaked Ladies, about the University of New Hampshire Grope Machine and how everyone was taking a long ride on it. There was more crowd surfing, more chaos, and I sat in my seat watching from a safe distance, knowing that at 42 I'd made the right choice.

No grope machine for me. I did take a video of the song, and will post it to youtube a little later.

The band sounded awesome. This was their first headliner show in almost a year due. 3/4ths of them had babies last year. Adam Gardner said something about how he'd been changing diapers for 11 months and this felt good.

All told, it was probably the best Guster show I've seen ever (out of 5) and I cannot wait to see them again. The did three new songs, all were great, and I am looking forward to the new album with great joy. Long live my Gusters!

Today, I'm home after running some errands. I have to go out and get a big veggie platter for my scout's Eagle court of honor this afternoon. Geoff is already up there doing work and getting things ready. I just can't forget to bring a change of clothing for him.

I'm very excited for the kid getting his Eagle. He's a great guy, I love him, and I know how much he gives the troop and the other kids. He is sticking around to be an adult leader now that he is 18, and I appreciate all that he does for my son and the other boys. I know how hard he has worked, I'm really proud of what he's done. This party will be a great time. And I know Geoff is watching this and thinking of his future as possibly being an Eagle too.

In other Boy Scout News, I am now the troop chaplain. I suggested we needed one, because none of the boys are working on that "A Scout is reverent" part of their law. Everyone on the committee agreed and our Scoutmaster said that it was something that he wanted to have put into place over the last couple of years but wasn't sure who would be good for the role. I'm looking forward to it. The clincher for me when I was thinking about volunteering was when I asked my kids and husband none of them laughed at me. so that was a good vote of confidence.

Tomorrow, we're going shooting.

I have a friend who is a member of a rod and gun club and an avid shooter. I have always wanted to go shooting, and I knew he is willing to take new shooters out, so I asked him if he'd take me to the range. Doug and I are both going, and I'm looking forward to it. I will, of course, let you know how that goes. And then in the evening we're meeting some missionaries from Bolivia who are with the agency my sister in law and her husband work for. They are staying with my friends Gary and Missy, thank God for them having the space to host them... whew! So I'll let you know how that goes too.

Well, I've gotta get myself going up to the Eagle court area to help set up and what have you. More later.

beeopolis

Today is the first day it has felt like Spring yet. We went out to do some gardening and discovered our island meadow area that we started last year (remember the island meadow?) is One Giant Huge Unbelievable Bee's Nest. Huge. Giant. Pulsating. Horrifying.

And they're on the opposite side of the driveway too, which means they're expanding their colony to the fenced in yard area where the dogs live and play. Nice.

So we quickly retreated to the house and have to devise a plan. The gardening will have to wait. Maybe gonna have to call Vexcon and get weird Billy to come up here and exterminate some bees. Or something.

I got ahold of one of the scouting families, who happen to be beekeepers. Dad and one of the sons came over to check out what was going on before we start torching the land and spraying chemicals and napalm and screaming at the top of our lungs around the yard..

He said they are solitary bees, but why we have 10,000 of them is beyond him.

His son gathered up a few bees so they can go and make an identification. He said most likely that we shouldn't obliterate them because they're good pollinators, and people kill too many bees when they aren't a threat to them. Unless they become a danger or hazard to us or our property, we should leave them go to do their thing.

They might be really good for the meadow. And perhaps, that's why they're there. We had a couple of them last year, but nothing to this scale. Seriously... there are millions of them out there. dude.

These don't seem to have stingers, and didn't try to kill us as we stood out there chatting for over a half hour, so they're not a danger to us. We'll see what happens. I'm less terrified than I was at 1pm this afternoon when we discovered them. Hopefully they're all planning on flying away to be solitary bees and won't continue to live as Beeopolis for much longer.

And on that note, I've been sick for the better part of a week and the housework has suffered. Jess has tried to keep up with the dishes, but nothing else has gotten done. So I'm going to get up on it. More later.