DISNEY!

Can you believe it? We are here for 8 days. Well, we are in the park for 6 days. But, seriously. DISNEY!

By the way, we miss New Mexico but love Portland. We live in the best neighborhood and the kids go to a great school. 

The people are so kind. I feel like I live in a community. We walk everywhere, even in the rain. In the short time we’ve been here, I already have the dog, hermit crabs and fish boarded with one new friend, the turtles with another, and the next-door neighbor checking for packages and on trash duty. I’m on a first name basis with the mail carrier, David. He’s holding our mail until we get back. Gerry has a horrendous drive to work – the only downfall so far. But we are working on that. We also haven’t found a church home yet, but are working our way through all the NE Portland churches week by week. We have definitely felt the spirit.

But before we even thought we would move to Portland, my mother planned this amazing Disney World trip for my sister’s family, our family, and her. We are so blessed to be here. She and my sister drove down yesterday and we flew in this evening. It’s been a long day, but we are happy to be here. Of course, it’s 10:23 and Billy and Lindsay are still awake, so we’ll see how tomorrow goes. Epcot with tired people is iffy at best.

The last 4 months have been jam packed with so many huge events that I’m beginning to wonder if I am becoming a Chaos Junkie.

Chaos –n The state of disorder and/or confusion. Ravage! Bedlam! Havoc! Pandemonium!

Junkie –n A person who is consumed by an addiction.

Chile Festival. Getting the Corrales House ready to sell. House hunting in Portland. Lindsay’s birthday. Moving. Halloween. New schools. Thanksgiving. DISNEY! Christmas?

I know chaos junkies and they don’t think they have a problem, so perhaps admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery. I actually look forward to boredom.

But it isn’t going to happen this week!

You're Moving?

Friday was spent moving out the remainder of our goods, cleaning the house for the final time, and saying goodbye to good friends. Billy ‘graduated’ from SOTVP by ceremoniously sliding down the slide. Lindsay checked out of school early and spent the afternoon sewing with Ms. Holly where they made a Dr. Seuss hat to match the one Billy received early from his school party. I picked Karl up from Corrales ES for the last time. His backpack was so full, I could barely carry it. All three had a great ‘last day’.

 

Me: Congratulations! When we get to Portand, you'll be in Kindergarten.You are finished with preschool.
Billy: Already?

We said goodbye to our home.

Me:  Let’s say a prayer.

Billy: Mom, are you sad?

Me:  Yes. But I’m excited too.

Billy: Me too.

Not willing to sleep on the cold, brick floors, we gratefully accepted an offer from the Rhoades to bunk there for the night. Kathy prepared a barbeque feast, the kids roasted hot dogs and marshmallows in the outdoor kiva, and I sat down for what felt like the first time in a week. It was so wonderful to be surrounded by good friends and family.

We parted Albuquerque at 8:30 AM on Saturday, headed for Price, Utah.  The drive was fairly uneventful until about Farmington when the dog threw up in the car and then the parking lot of KFC. Afterwards, we had to stop every hour or so to let Daisy relieve herself in one way or another. We’re still not sure if she was car sick or ate one too many marshmallows at the Rhoades’ home.  She’s better today, and that’s what really counts.

Sheepish, pukey dog

Karl:  Are we still in New Mexico?

Gerry:  Yes.

Karl:  I can tell by the landscaping.

Not New Mexico.

Colorado River

I’ve posted some of these events and photos to Facebook. What truly makes me chuckle is that every time Gerry or I post something about moving, someone invariably – and honestly, I believe – posts something along the lines of, “You’re moving?” I feel like moving has filled my entire plate for the past 3 months, with the Chile Festival on the side.  Have I not been clear about that?

And if any of you post to my timeline, “You’re moving?” then I’m unfriending you. 

P.S. GTHCGTH

Movers & Packers

Three packers arrived at 9 AM Monday morning. They were quickly followed by two guys who came to make crates for the art and antiques. Felix also arrived for day 3 of 4 of wall repair. [He was amazing, by the way. If you need house work done, get his number from me. He’s a general contractor but also does minor repairs.]

While they hurried around me working, I got 3 stars on several levels of Angry Birds, caught up on email, cleared up several documentation SNAFUs with the Portland lender, hired someone to pull out the cat-dander-riddled basement carpet at the Portland house, and balanced my checkbook. Everyone was gone by 3 pm.

Lather, rinse, repeat for Tuesday. Except this day everyone was gone by 2:15 since the packers ran out of boxes. They were gone by noon on Wednesday.

‘Tis the land of mañana after all. So the kids and I called friends and spent the afternoon at Explora. Fun! While there I got a call from our van driver’s wife.

Me:  Hello? This is Lara.

Gail:  Hello. This is Gail. My husband is scheduled to pick up your load tomorrow. But he’s sick. Will it be OK if we come on Friday instead?

Me:  Uh…  Sure…  That’s fine…

Gail:  OK. See you Friday.

When I last talked to our relo coordinator she gently told me to “make friends” with the driver. It would ensure our delivery would get there on schedule. So my first thought when I hung up was, “Dang! I didn’t even tell her that I hope he feels better.” It was followed closely by, “WHAT?!? Can he call in sick to me?”

They showed up today at noon, regardless of illness. It could have something to do with the email I send to the relo coordinator this morning. But I’m guessing he just feels better. Half the house is loaded; the other half will follow tomorrow.

We are driving out of town Saturday.

The fun part of this is that the kids are bringing home all their school projects and drawings.

Gerry's hair is my favorite in this one

The not fun part is I think I got a CTD in my left thumb from all the Angry Birds. 

Agents of Entropy

en·tro·py  -n [en-truh-pee] 

1.  a thermodynamic quantity that changes in a reversible process by an amount equal to the heat absorbed or emitted divided by the thermodynamic temperature. It is measured in joules per kelvin

2.  a statistical measure of the disorder of a closed system expressed by S  = k log P  + c  where P  is the probability that a particular state of the system exists, k  is the Boltzmann constant, and c  is another constant

3.  lack of pattern or organization; disorder

It’s the second law of thermodynamics. For all you liberal arts majors out there, it goes something like this:  energy spontaneously disperses from being localized to becoming spread out if it is not hindered from doing so. My thermodynamics professor at NC State once said that if you closed up a clean room and did not disturb it for a length of time, when you reopened it, it would be dusty. That’s entropy. More simply, if you turn off the oven, it cools off. When you open a Coke Zero, it goes ppshhht. If you take your bike to Emerald Isle, it rusts.

My children are agents of entropy. They like neither order nor cleanliness and will subconsciously do anything to thwart them. It takes a lot of energy to clean and organize and prepare. And the Raban children will have none of it.  No sooner do I have a box of toys carefully sorted when they have them all unpacked and strewn through the playroom.  Whenever I segregate an item for travel, it is immediately desegregated to the general population.  I am no longer David. I am Sisyphus.

I’m trying desperately to keep my sense of humor about all this. I keep reminding myself that they are just kids, and kids just want to have fun. What’s fun about a house full of boxes and no toys or electronics? Well, hide and seek for one thing. Catching dying grasshoppers to feed to the turtles. Making dinner with Mom.

So, clearly I’ve spent the last week prepping for our upcoming move. We also celebrated Lindsay's birthday. In my spare minutes, I’ve taken a few photos.

Happy 8th, Lindsay!

Los Poblanos Fields

Mr. Ross' truck

Truck detail

I shared with a dear friend today that this move is a real test of my faith. I can feel God stretching me and I just want it to be over. I’m glad he’s not done with me, but I also wish he didn’t trust me so much.

The packers arrived today and the moving truck arrives Thursday. After all that cleaning, you would not believe how dusty my house is. Darn you, Entropy!

The Breakover

Have you ever done this? After a break up, you head straight to the hair dresser and ask for a new you in the mirror. The motivation is obvious: after a bad ending, the thinking goes, you want a fresh start, a new identity, and making a major change indicates a degree of ballsy self-stewardship. I’ve certainly done it. Disappointed and depressed with the inner me, I make an effort to change the outer me.

And, frankly, it can be a step in the right direction. Think Britney Spears beating a car windshield with her newly shaven head. It was mostly uphill from there for her.

And, should we count Samson as the first break-up haircut? That was certainly when he hit rock bottom.

As for me, it’s not rock bottom. And I'm not depressed. But it is a break up. And it is a fresh start.

Dear New Mexico,

It’s not you. It’s me. Even though we have to go our separate ways, we can still be friends. I’ll call and come visit. And you can come see me any time you like. Take care and know that I’ll always love you.

Love,

Lara

APS and Moving Dirt

Goodbye APS

Tonight was “Math Night” at Corrales Elementary. Basically, it is a reason to get together to do math games outside of school and eat pizza. Ideally it promotes community, love of math, and the local pizza joint. Realistically, it’s pretty fun if you have one child and can spend all your time in their grade room, and have nothing else to do on Wednesday night.

Backstory:  Wednesday is short day for APS (Albuquerque Public Schools). Years ago, ‘They’ shortened the school day on Wednesday so the teachers could have a dedicated length of time for planning and continuing ed. ‘They’ also lengthened the other days. So my kids go to school from 8:45 to 3:50 4 days a week and 8:45 to 12:20 on Wednesday. Note that they are in school for less than 4 hours on Wednesday. This includes a lunch and recess. Every Wednesday I ask myself, “What’s the point?” Bake in there 15 minutes on the bus both ways too.

Normally, I’m the Math Night attendance kind of parent. But I had other things I wanted to do today, like go to the zoo. It’s getting down to the last few weeks here and Lindsay wanted to say good-bye to Sheila the Cockatoo. Karl wanted to see the reptiles. Billy wanted to ride the train. When I picked up Karl and Lindsay at the bus stop (snacks packed, hats ready), both announced that they would get a bye on their homework if they went to Math Night.

Did I mention that Lindsay gets a 16-page packet of homework every week? She gets two extra worksheets since she’s in the advanced math group. Karl gets math and spelling each night. They get home at 4 pm. We eat between 5:30 and 6:00. We do other stuff like BSF and soccer and guitar and scouts. And shower. We go to bed pretty early. Everyone is already stressed about moving. Getting homework done on a regular basis is difficult at best. Getting it done this month is beyond difficult.

So we had a lovely time at the zoo.

Lindsay looks over to see if Billy is smiling

He's not, so she takes matters into her own hands

Which gives Billy full license to grab Karl

And so the circle continues

Now they aren't even in their seats

Sigh.

And when I announced at 5 pm we would be missing Math Night, our evening came crashing down.

Why do teachers do this? Why do they think that the kids are in charge of going to extracurricular school events? In fact, I feel the same way about agenda signing, reading logs, and a 16-page homework packet. They make the 2^nd grader in charge and punish the 2^nd grader when it doesn’t happen. Home responsibility doesn’t trickle up, people. That’s inane.

Let me just interject here with a statement that I do believe they should gain independence and responsibility through school. I do think a 5^th grader should have to figure out how to get the current events assignment in on time with limited guidance. But I do not think a 5^th grader needs a signed reading log, especially if said 5^th grader has his nose stuck in a book all day long. And I do not think that a 5^th grader whose parents do not sign the reading log ONE NIGHT should be made to stay in for recess. That’s my fault. Don’t punish him. In fact, I think recess should NEVER be taken away. Ever. Let me also interject that I don’t think all teachers are this way. We’ve had some gems, too. And truly, I feel for them. They get it from me, the principal, the president, the kids. And they are vastly underpaid. And the curriculum is decidedly not good. And, I firmly believe in respecting the adult who is responsible. We make every effort to follow the rules and guidelines handed out by the teacher.

But DO NOT BRIBE MY OCD-PRONE KID WITH NO HOMEWORK IN EXCHANGE FOR ATTENDING AN EVENT IN WHICH THEY HAVE NO CONTROL OVER ATTENDING. Please.

During the middle of my dinner-prep rant about this, Gerry threw out this gem, “What if the Portland schools are no better?” Sigh. This is one of the many, many reasons people home school.

Moving Dirt

Book Club is at my house this Friday. I am so, so, so excited.  I looked around at dinner tonight to evaluate what needed to be cleaned before then, and realized that nothing needed to be cleaned. Maybe one of the reasons my house isn’t selling is because God is trying to teach me to be a better house keeper.  I actually make time to pick up. The kids have lists and responsibilities. The laundry gets put away the day it is washed. There’s no clutter. Pretty soon I’ll have been doing this for 40 days. That’s enough time to make it a habit. And I have to say I’m pretty happy about that. I’ve always wanted to be neater, but have lacked the desire to actually do it on my own. It’s hard.

On the other hand, I am so tired of fluffing pillows and dusting and tucking in the bed covers just so. I want to leave the popcorn droppings where they lay. I hide all kinds of things in the desk I inherited from my grandmother. But she used to do that too, so I don’t feel so bad.

My sister told me this story that her friend Brandy told her when her house was for sale. I’ve looked all over the internet for it, but can’t find it. Sorry if I butchered it. But I got the message I was supposed to get.

One day a monk went to a monastery to devote his life to God. The senior monk welcomed him and asked him to shovel and move a pile of dirt from one side of the chapel to the other. It took him a long time to do the chore. When he was finished, the senior monk asked him to move the pile of dirt back to its original spot. And so it went, day after day, week after week. Finally the novice monk became fed up. He complained that he was just moving dirt back and forth. It was pointless. He wanted to do more for God. And the senior monk explained to him that it wasn’t about the dirt. It was about bringing glory to God in his every day, mundane work.

That’s me, moving dirt. God is at work, even when I do laundry and hide the kitchen counter-top gadgets in the pantry.

God and Rick Astley

Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said, “Never will I leave you;    never will I forsake you.”

That’s Hebrews 13:5 (NIV). And it is exactly what I needed to hear today. Plus it makes me think of Rick Astley and 1988. Good times.

My TO DO LIST was wide and varied today. 

• We’ve set up an appointment with our financial planner to stem the financial hemorrhage that is 2 mortgages. 
• I talked on the phone with a great friend and resource in Portland about medical care, public schools, and adoption support groups for about an hour. 
• I had good-bye coffee with another dear friend. 
• I completely spaced lunch with Kristin, which turned out to be okay since she spaced it too. (Lesson: no lunch plans should be made after 9:30 pm.) 
• I went to Costco. (No surprise there. It is a day that ends with Y.) 
• I went to Walmart, a necessary evil, where I ran into Andy. We caught up, said good-bye, then watched a possibly drunk lady back into the car next to us then drive away. So I got to call the Albuquerque police. 
• I also left messages with the Corrales police concerning disposal of some ammunition that we can’t take with us. It is amusing that the Corrales police have an answering machine. If they don’t call back, I guess I’ll just flag Walter down in the carpool lane at the school in a few minutes.
• I drove back and forth to SOTV from Corrales twice.
• I talked to our Corrales Realtor for about 30 minutes and set up an open house.
• I reviewed the radon inspection results with our Portland Realtor. 
• I learned that Realtor should be capitalized.

And it’s only 3:37!   

Tonight, after the kids have eaten, done homework, showered, brushed teeth, been read to, and gone to bed, Gerry and I plan to make the real TO DO LIST.  

But first, I have to walk the dog.

What are you up to?

“Not much. What’s up with you?”

That’s a phrase you almost never hear me say these days. We are imminently moving to Portland, Oregon. Gerry reports to work at the Intel Custom Foundry on October 29.

Our prayer for most of the summer followed the theme, “God, please keep our family together.” We knew in July that we would be moving sometime before 2013, but didn’t know when exactly. When asked when we were moving, my answer was typically, “When our house sells or December, whichever comes first.” God had already prepared me to know that I am not a very good single parent. Gerry spent 6 months in Portland while the rest of us stayed in Albuquerque in the winter of 2009/2010 and I can definitively say that it was one of the hardest 6 months of my life. Then I spent most of this summer alone with the kids as well. I knew it was something I couldn’t do again for long. So we needed to stay together. We need each other.

Fast forward to now. Gerry has actually already started his new job, but is working remotely from here. He was originally slated to move in early October. So a few weeks ago we flew to Portland for a brief house-hunting excursion. When my plane landed, I had a text stating we had an offer on the house here in Corrales. Therefore we felt pretty comfortable making an offer on a house in Portland, near Grant Park. It’s a very sweet English cottage, in the heart of NE Portland. One week later, the deal on our New Mexico house fell through. So it is back on the market.

We’re going through with the house purchase in Portland even though we haven’t sold our current one.  There is no good reason not to move to this new house. And God answered our prayer. We are staying together through the move. He didn’t answer the prayer as I intended, but I’m OK with that. Or, I’m trying to be.

The house here isn’t showing very much. When it first went on the market, it showed a dozen times in a few weeks. It’s shown twice since it went back on the market. I’ll be the first to acknowledge that it’s going to take a unique person to want this home. But at least people were looking at it in early September. Honestly, I’m having a really hard time accepting that it might not sell before we leave. Consequently, I’m 6-sigma outside my confidence interval financially. The thought of 2 mortgages is giving me anxiety dreams. Plus, managing how to keep the house clean and in good condition while we’re in Portland is a hurdle I simply do not want to jump. Not to mention that until then I'm trying to keep it clean and showable with 3 kids, regular life to live, and closets to declutter.

But I keep coming back to that answered prayer. I fully trust that God’s plan is much better than mine. And I’m trying to not want the neon sign indicating his plan. Most of the time I wish God wasn’t trying to grow my tolerance of ambiguity or patience. On the other hand, if I’m really honest with myself, I know that if he gave me the plan, I’d just kick him out of the driver’s seat. That’s love, right there. I’m not to be trusted and he knows it. I’ve turned into David and my life is a psalm.

And then there are 3 kids who are in the midst of all this chaos. None of this is easy for Gerry and me, but it’s possibly worse for them. At least Gerry and I have a semblance that all this will be just fine. We love Portland and know the kids will too. Plus, Karl remembers going to Kindergarten at Laurelhurst, making friends, playing t-ball in Grant Park, and loving it. But Lindsay and Billy do not have those memories. All they see is a big black box of unknowns. Unknown school, unknown friends, unknown new house, unknown security. And on this side of the move, all they all have is good-byes. Good-bye Corrales, good-bye Shepherd of the Valley, good-bye friends, good-bye giant yard, good-bye trampoline, good-bye zoo and Explora and aquarium and Sweet Tomatoes. Good-bye security. Neither of our younger kids transition well, especially when letting go – understatement of the year – and so the emotional unraveling has officially begun.

The movers start coming October 15. That’s 2 weeks from tomorrow.  The kids’ last day of school is October 19. To state the obvious, that’s much sooner than I anticipated. We’ve had several offers for farewell events, but just cannot accept them. We have too much to do and frankly, it would not be in the best interest of our kids right now. We have to be in the business of calm routine. So I’m afraid I will not get to say good-bye to everyone I love in New Mexico. I know it is inconsiderate, and I feel terrible about it. But I can’t figure out a way to make it happen.  

I am confident that this move to Portland is God’s plan for our family. We needed to move for several reasons. Gerry needed new job opportunities. We need better healthcare alternatives for our kids. Our kids need to grow up with lots of kids who look like them.  We get to be within driving distance of family for the first time, ever. I am so excited for a new adventure. But I am in mourning about leaving New Mexico. I’ve been here over 15 years. I have roots and community and family-away-from-family here. Our kids were born here. I’m living in my dream house. Minute by minute I fluctuate between tears and excited planning.  

My new prayer is plain and simple. Please, God, sell my home. He’s done so much for me already. Why stop here?

The Last One

I took the day off Friday. It was such a down day that I only took 2 photos – 1 of the crab cakes cooking and 1 of the crab cakes done.

We spent Saturday sun burning ourselves at the beach. The AC guy came to replace the unit as it was getting more and more unpredictable. And Gayle’s house was shown by the realtor in the afternoon. Since no one wants to be in a hot, hot house and since the realtor really did not want 8 people and a large dog around while showing the house to prospective buyers, we stayed out for most of the day. But a glorious day it was. The water was perfect.

Karl: I’m never coming out of the ocean.

Me: Who are you and what have you done with my child who does not like the ocean?

Watching them catch this ghost crab was hilarious. 

No harm was done and it was released fairly quickly.

I'm still working on a good pelican photo. Why I want a photo of these weird-looking birds, I don't know.

Wave Crasher

My 25^th High School Reunion was held at a house 3 blocks down the beach so we walked down midday to see everyone there and catch up with friends from a lifetime ago.  I had a lot of fun with David Tyre’s daughter catching sand fiddler crabs.

Me: [digs them up and drops a pile on the beach]

Parker: Oooooh! I’ll get my bucket!

Me: You can’t keep them in the bucket for long. It will get too hot and they’ll die…

Parker: [shows me bucket with 4 dead crabs floating in the top]

Me: …like those there.

Parker: Oh, those are just playing dead!

The reunion party Saturday night was so, so fun. I loved catching up with people I haven’t seen in so long. Camille even put on the original drill team uniform and danced for us. My mom made me swear to get a ride home – I admit it is a dark 3 blocks – so Robbie Ferrell’s daughter drove me home on the tailgate of her pickup truck. It was a perfect ending to a great night.

Lara, Angie, Kathleen, Karen

White heron atop an unused erne nest.

Sunday, we were off to the EI Pointe Lagoon again, courtesy of Jamie and Mom. It is one of the kids’ favorite places to spend time on the island. After tubing, Karl caught minnows in the cast net, Lindsay and Katie imitated the egrets by chasing the minnows with a little net, and Billy and Bradley dug in the sand and swam all day. Making up for a lost day on Friday, I took 260 photos. I thought my camera was going to overheat. Jamie cooked hot dogs on the grill and generally spoiled us all day. Fun!

Karl is a cast net pro

You would not believe how many fish she caught like this

It was so many that I think this guy was jealous

Katie caught just as many, then swam them across the lagoon to show-off her catch

Bradley swims with his shovel. They float, thank goodness.

I also had a great conversation with Lindsay. If you’ve spent any time with her, you’ll find out pretty quickly that she constantly hums, sings, or whistles.

Me: What do you like about music?

Lindsay: Well, the tone. And the tune. And the beat. And the rhythm and the singing. That kind of stuff, you know?

Me: [mental dope slap]

Today was our last day on the beach. The surf was lovely and we spent most of the morning swimming and burying the kids in the sand.

Billy caught great waves today

Preparing their burial chambers holes.

Awaiting burial

Despite our fair weather and great venue, we are all ready to be home. We all miss Gerry terribly. And Billy announced tonight that he misses Daisy too.  We are coming home with a few acquired items – 21 crafts made by Lindsay, 14 new Hot Wheels cars, 1 papier mache dragon, 3 guns (toys), 1 light saber, 3 hermit crabs, 8 GB of photos. But we are leaving behind beloved family members. The good news is we’ll see them again soon – Disney World in December!   

Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday

Tuesday was Dad’s and Linda’s last full day with us here. We started the morning with a visit to the beach and ended the day with a visit to the aquarium. The penguins are still cute and thankfully, still behind glass. The otters were off-the-hook cute, though. Apparently feeding time is around 4 pm and they were very excited. They jumped off the ledges, chased each other through the pools, and ran all over the enclosure in that cute way that only otters run. I also learned the names of several of the bigger fish in the large shark tank. Apparently, I’ve reached a new milestone in my life where I can stop to read the museum signs. I like it.

Sand Castle Consultation

Hie-Ya! (Do not even tell me you did not fight the waves when you were this age.)

Sassy

"Aaaauugh! Get it off! Get it off!"

Playing Otters

Diving Otter

Shark Tank Pose

Touch Tank Pose

Wednesday was Karl’s favorite day of the vacation so far. I signed him up for a day-long eco-excursion to Jones Island through the NC State Parks division. It’s a short boat ride under the double bridges in Swansboro to the island from Hammocks Beach State Park.

Me: My younger two are in the ocean there. My oldest is doing day camp with the state park, exploring a barrier island.

New friend on the beach: Where did you learn about that?

Me: My mom reads the paper.

While Karl was wading through the sound, CC and the rest of us took the ferry to Bear Island for a little beach time and a picnic. I cannot express how much I was impressed by HABE, as the State Park Folk call it. While waiting for the ferry, we stumbled across a talk given by an intern on the local bivalve and gastropod population (aka shells). I had no idea those holes in small clams were made by whelk. Big ones eat 12-15 a day! For my whole life I just thought it was a weak spot made into a hole by the beating surf. Thank you, whelk! Those shells make great necklaces.

This is a white heron. Egrets have yellow feet, herons do not. 

A whelk did that!

A blue crab fishing in the reeds

The walk to the beach was long, but paved. Paved! On an island with no bridge. But I digress. The beach was lovely and not crowded. The surf was calm and shallow. They have a lifeguard. Lifeguard! She came over to tell us when she was going for a lunch break. But I digress. The shells were plentiful and we picked up more than our fair share. Lindsay and I walked fairly far to collect a bucketful of sand dollar pieces. They were shooting guns at Camp Lejeune (the next island south) all morning.

Gun: Ba-BOOM

Lindsay: Is that thunder?

Me: No, they are practicing war at the base and are shooting guns.

Lindsay: Why do they practice war? Won’t they kill each other?

Bear Island

I knew the name of this bird yesterday

When I met Karl at the end of the day, he was all smiles. He did not look like he had spent the last several hours catching creatures and identifying plants and sea grasses in the hot sun. He was full of new info.

Karl: You’ll never guess what makes those holes in the small clam shells on the beach.

Me: Whelk?

Karl: Oh, man! How did you know?!

He did tell me how they did it, which I didn’t know already. As he disembarked the skiff, he announced with pride that he had been bitten ‘pretty hard’ by several blue crabs. To some this would be a deterrent.

Lindsay and Katie

Instead, Karl spent most of the day today catching crab in the sound with his bare hands at Camp Phyllis. We all spent the entire day over there kayaking, paddle-boarding, tubing, and generally playing in her backyard, Bogue Sound. Billy melted down twice because I was having so much fun that I forgot to feed him. Katie and Lindsay got a taste of real tubing this year as Phyllis tried to fling them off around the turns. They both had perma-grins and couldn’t get enough. Billy and Bradley both loved the tube as well.  I had a great time paddling Billy around in the kayak and Bradley is now a pro at the paddle board. Many thanks to Phyllis for her generosity and for making us laugh so much.

Serious kayaking

Katie in the kayak, Bradley on the paddle board

Billy and Karl, relaxing.

Catching air!

The view from home.

During the past few days the clouds have moved in, making the outdoors not quite so hot. Unfortunately the AC has gone on intermittent strike, rendering us sticky and sweaty at random times during the day and night. I assume this is what menopause is like.

In other news, my 25^th High School Reunion starts tomorrow. (!)