July is over and I’ve hardly written. We had Little Foot here one weekend while his parents had an adult weekend with baby brother, and then all 4 of them were here this past weekend. The Engineer and the Author have purchased an investment property/rental home and he’s been cleaning and preparing while she hangs out here with Little Foot and Chomper. I miss having the extra time with my son but nothing beats snuggling grandbabies!
In fact, that snuggle-time helped me come to a decision: I’ve given notice at work and will be done by October 1st. Because how can I miss out on this?
Little Foot, age 2.5 years, with Chomper, age 3 weeks
We’ve hit peak heat and more this summer: mid- to upper-90s and we’re supposed to reach 100 degrees tomorrow while I’m at work in an old brick building (the office portion was built in 1926) with a wall of southern facing windows. There’s a single wall/window air conditioner unit far from my desk but by 3pm it cannot keep up on a 92 degree day even with additional fans blowing the air my direction.
Normally we have perhaps one or two weeks in August where it is too hot for those of us without air conditioned houses — and even then it cools down sufficiently at night to sleep comfortably with the windows open. The cost of installing A/C is probably equal to replacing our 6-inch high deck, and the deck is more crucial to fix (yes, we’ve repaired it once already, but thanks to apparently second-rate composite decking, the previous owner’s DIY job is disintegrating badly). Next will come the convincing ourselves to spend the money.
Anyhoodle, we’re hanging out with our family and trying to beat the heat.
What’s up in your end of the world?
- My private glamping tent set up inside my friends’ trailer.
Last week SuperDad and I finally had our first trailer camping experience together. I’ve trailer-camped with friends, enjoying my own little glamping hideout, but this was our first time as husband and wife.
We don’t yet agree on what size of trailer or layout so this is going to be a process of discovery and discussion. We’re renting from the local military installation’s outdoor recreation store while we weigh the pros and cons of trailer camping. I am personally a big fan of indoor plumbing, coffee pots on timers, and pillows. I’m also a big fan of fresh air and seeing the stars at night, so that rules out traveling via motels 100% of the time. After all, I traded in my beloved minivan for a big SUV last winter in order to tow a trailer, so I’m obviously committed to doing this.
SuperDad told me he was being tailgated by a giant trailer.
While I agree it was intimidating, it was also close to being what I want in a travel trailer. It had a walk-around queen bed (“trailer queen” so a bit short in length but still 60 inches wide), a full bath mid-trailer with a good sized shower, a fridge with separate freezer, and a u-shaped dinette in back that gave us the window view at the top of this post . Not bad!
The campsite was near home, so I went to work from here and my better half stayed and played. SuperDad brought along his kayak (which rode in the truck) and mountain bike (trailer) and is now thinking about a toyhauler as compromise (“Think of all the TOYS we could bring inside it!”) while I am sure that would ruin the glamping vibe. Kayaks and bikes don’t need to ride inside the trailer. I want a cute space for my crafting supplies. After all, I need to have something to do while he’s out being outdoorsy.
Once upon a time, I would have thought this was all ridiculous. I was a committed tent camper. But now that we are getting older and I cannot get up off the ground easily (understatement) thanks to my Frankenstein ankle, this is where we are at. How about you, dear Reader? How do you feel about camping?
Two years ago on July 3rd, sometime around 6:00 in the evening, The Scout was climbing a tree when some branches broke. He fell twenty-three feet to the ground, landing on his back.
He was alone.
He got up and after several attempts, managed to walk home, grab an ice pack and lay down on the sofa. He was rather stoic but clearly in pain. The Barefooter went back to the site of the accident and retrieved his glasses for him.
The CT scans have been clear (no bleeding) and visits with neurology and physical therapy have made very little difference. He has seen an osteopath. He has a new neurologist.
The Scout graduated from high school last month, miraculously earning A’s and B’s from the few classes he could manage. We are grateful for his 504 Accommodation and the support and understanding from the school staff, teachers and counselor. Graduation and finally earning his Eagle Scout rank have been highlights of the past year.
This young man does not give up. He does not complain. He would rather be busy and doing something rather than sitting around waiting to feel better. He persisted in looking for a part-time job and spent the last weeks of high school doing both school and work.
This young man wrote a short story for my Mother’s Day gift this year. With one of his first paychecks, he purchased a nice steak as a Father’s Day gift. This is who he is. Even without these gifts, we are so grateful to have our son with us. He’ll be turning 19 years old in a few short weeks.
We keep hoping and praying for positive change and full recovery.
Little Foot became a big brother on Tuesday morning.
We’re all in love with this new little guy.
He’s already changed in the two days since I met him. We will need to plan a visit soon. ❤
This sweet boy, my youngest son, is graduating on Saturday afternoon.
That’s tomorrow… just hours away, really.
I’m a little verklempt tonight.
Friends from Virginia and Western WA will recognize him from his grade school years (and also my friend Gary on whose wheel he is throwing a pot).
I blinked and my baby grew up into a handsome young man of whom I am very proud.
Happy Graduation Day to The Scout, a.k.a, SnakeMaster!
Most folks talk about town fathers, but there are town mothers as well.
These women were busy.
They accomplished much.
I was glad to find them being honored.
Their efforts were written about in the newspaper. The Spokesman Review now occupies several buildings, but the corner lot contains the most photogenic of them.
City hall and its doings are also covered by the paper.
The river runs right through downtown. The lower falls are flowing with snowmelt and spring rains. In the shadow from the bridge, the slanting sun and the rising mist from the tumult created a rainbow in the park.
That last sentence about this photo brought on an earworm.
I almost missed the rock roses this year! (Click on that link to see how small these beauties really are.)
Luckily, there were still a few patches in bloom.
I strengthened the color just a wee bit for this photo.
Rock roses come by their nickname honestly.
It’s prom season.
In fact, tonight is prom for my youngest son’s high school.
He’s not going.
He’s not into loud crowds or loud music or pop culture, but none of his brothers have been either, and two out of three of them did attend prom. I don’t know if he would have gone had he not fallen out of that tree.
It’s also the season for announcements of which university the high school graduates are heading off to in the fall. I’ve seen multiple pictures of my friends’ high school seniors proudly holding their acceptance letters and wearing their new college t-shirts. I get a little jealous pang but that doesn’t mean I’m not happy for them. I truly am pleased for the parents and the students.
My youngest son will graduate (thanks to his IEP and his hard work) and he plans to attend the local community college in September. We are still hoping that by the time he has two years of CC under his belt, he will be recovered enough to go on to a full university. But there are no promises. I know it, his dad knows it, and I’m pretty sure he knows it.
We still cling to hope.
I have to keep reminding myself that we are so very lucky to have him as whole as he is, despite the constant headache and the times his brain refuses to function properly for him.
Dear God, I am grateful.
At the same time, though, I sometimes grieve for what he has lost.