Boiling Over

There's something I need to get off of my chest. I wish that there was someone...someone in my family...who would teach our little boys to fish. A grandparent or an aunt/uncle.

This weekend is "free fishing" time in our state, a few days when neither adults nor children require a fishing license. I'll be working long days at the winery while hoping that, at a minimum, the boys aren't in danger while under someone else's care. It would be a luxury to know that they were OUTSIDE, learning valuable life skills like fishing.

I purchased a fishing license yesterday for our 17-year-old who is headed off to work at a camp for the summer. I also bought a machete, boys' underwear, mens' socks, golf balls, and "Jacked" Doritos.

After shopping, we went to the library where the boys borrowed books on such topics as Werewolves and Minecraft. Later we built a "small" bonfire in the backyard, which the boys expanded via the addition of lighter fluid and a school year's worth of papers and folders.

I broke up an air soft gun fight, cleaned 20 matchbox cars out of the tub so that I could shower, and listened to a lengthy description of a scream-o metal concert with highlights like dancing on broken glass, ripped out stud earrings, and an ear-drum smashing first number.

I cleaned up enough dirty dishes to find a small patch of counter underneath, recycled several empty soup cans, fished dirty socks from the couch pillows, picked a box containing a wench off of the kitchen floor, and disposed of the pancakes left in the back of the minivan.

Mine is a boys' world. And when their dad is working out of town, the "boy antics" seem to boil over.

Good Things

I like-

Holding sweet Adeline, 6 weeks old.

Hearing Joe Dady play an instrument first owned by the banjo player from Bill Monroe's band.

Watching The Dady Brothers play, canal side.

Tug boats, canal bridges, sunshine on the water.

Petunias

Chicken barbecue

A Dalmatian in the fire house.

Kale, cucumber and green apple smoothies.

Cold dense, dark stout from the tap that tastes like burnt caramel and cocoa.

Teaching my children our favorite drinking songs.

Words of Appreciation

"Feelings of worth can flourish only in an atmosphere where individual differences are appreciated, mistakes are tolerated, communication is open, and rules are flexible - the kind of atmosphere that is found in a nurturing family."
Virginia Satir, American Psychologist

This is a tale of two leaders.

One leader always seems to be short on time. He fails to present guidelines ahead of time, but he quickly reprimands and criticizes his employees when they make mistakes.

The second leader clearly describes his expectations and establishes an atmosphere where employees feel supported.

This leader takes time to show his employees know that they are appreciated.

I've come to more fully understand the importance of "shows appreciation" as a quality of leadership.

Yesterday, for instance, my boss at the vineyard was headed to Canada for the day. I observed that he gave everyone words of encouragement before he headed out. He said to me, "And you, you are a smart lady. You'll be able to figure out anything that comes up."

I'd like to say that I'm not easily flattered but I quickly noticed how his words made me feel... ten feet tall...ready to take on the day (my day would include scrubbing the men's room after a bus full of drunk guys got sick as they passed through).


1 Timothy 5:17

The elders who rule well are to be considered worthy of double honor, especially those who work hard at preaching and teaching.

Ephesians 4:25

Therefore, laying aside falsehood, SPEAK TRUTH EACH ONE of you WITH HIS NEIGHBOR, for we are members of one another.

Back to The Farm

The cows that used to live on our family's dairy farm left this morning inside of tractor trailers bound for Michigan. The buildings and land will soon go up for sale as well.

For certain, ours wasn't the first small, family-owned, multi-generation farm to wither and fade away. Still, it was sad to see the trucks pull away.

It's odd to see my son at home instead of working on the farm. My dad doesn't leave for his new job, or to check on the old farm, until well after 8 a.m. I was amused to hear my son report, "that hasn't happened since 1960."

I was certainly blessed to grow up on a dairy farm and I'm grateful for the many lessons that the lifestyle provided.

Yesterday, I started a part time job on a thriving family farm located within a neighboring county. My boss, who is young, bright, and congenial, just welcomed his first daughter into the world. She is ("if she wants to be," he says) the 6th generation of the farm's owners.

Many, many family members work on the farm, running special events, making wine, tilling kale, and pruning vines. Employees are treated like family.

I enjoyed reading a sign that reminded people to "leave your troubles behind" when visiting the farm. Enjoy the company. Watch the animals. Talk with friends or make a new friend. Savor the flavors of the bounty that God provides.

That's what I remember about my childhood...working together, taking meals around the same table, and marveling at the riches of the harvest. I remember hauling until I thought my back would break, responding to animal emergencies, and working through extreme weather.

It was always fun to have visitors and to watch them take in all that the farm offered. The Farm where I work "bucked the trend" of the failing family farm and now features a beer garden, world class wines, two wedding venues, and more. We employ several professional chefs and we offer a CSA that includes raw milk, grapes, baked goods, and cheese.

It isn't my own family's farm, but I feel tremendously privileged to be able to spend time and lend a hand at a job where I feel needed and appreciated.

It's good to get a little bit of that "family farm" feeling back.

The Adrenaline Rush

On doctor's orders, I'm supposed to decrease the level of adrenaline in my system.

It has many negative effects, of course, this perpetual "flight or fight" response. In my particular case, the senses of smell and hearing are on overdrive and I've been clenching (and clenching) (and clenching) my jaw.

So I'm working at this from two angles, trying to minimize overstimulating situations and finding ways to exercise and work off the stored-up adrenaline.

It seems to be particularly difficult these days, to simply "coast along." (Visualize sailing. Wait, I'm terrified of deep water)

My boys live for the thrill of competition. For instance, N, now 17, competes in track. Tonight they will announce the Broadway Theater League Awards for 2015 and he is in the running for "Best Male Lead." (It's everything I can do not to bite my nails as I wait).

There are some "big" situations in our family life right now - a BFF battling breast cancer, for example.

I long to look at beautiful landscapes without battling crowds and traffic.

Small steps...(?)(?)(?)

I just finished a successful first semester back in graduate school (Well, grades aren't posted.I don't actually know for sure if I passed...holding my breath and clenching my teeth until they are!)(Wait! I'm trying not to do just that!)

The Spring 2015 semester is over (and grades are DUE. There is so much work to do to calculate grades).

Sunday is Mother's Day (Damn it! I don't have any cards in the mail!)

Where I Walked

I enjoy taking on the challenge of a daily photo prompt. Sometimes it takes me a few days to get myself organized enough to stage and snap the photo, but doing so often redirects my mood.

Yesterday's photo prompt was "where I walk."

The boys and I had been planning to take the dog on a walk around a local nature trail but I had found myself very tired and unmotivated lately. Tired from long days of training for my new job. Unmotivated by the lingering cold, wet weather.

So yesterday we put on our walking shoes (somehow one boy still forgot socks), grabbed a leash and the dog, and headed to Swallow Hallow. I was eager to take some beautiful "where I walk" landscape photos.

Our two youngest boys are now eight and ten years old. Although they are well beyond the toddler state, they still find sticks to use as weapons, climb trees, and insist on doing "parkur" throughout the forest. I am infuriated when one boy decides to carve his initials into a tree using his jack knife. However, we enjoyed searching for initials carved into other trees throughout the trail.

I'm tense as we walk around the large pond, watching out for their safety (and the safety of other hikers who might be hit by the sticks they throw). Animal life and birds scatter away long before we can see or hear them.

It occurs to me that I haven't hiked without fear (without these boy distractions) in many, many years.

The older boys used to run, climb, and jump their way through the trail in a similar fashion.

I'm a boy mom, and this is how, and where, I walk.

Another Reason to Hate "Frozen"

I know it's counter culture, but I hate the Disney movie, "Frozen."

These lyrics hit close to home.

"Do You Wanna Build a Snowman?"

Elsa?
Do you wanna build a snowman?
Come on, let's go and play!
I never see you anymore, come out the door
It's like you've gone away
We used to be best buddies, and now we're not
I wish you would tell me why
Do you wanna build a snowman?
It doesn't have to be a snowman
(Go away, Anna!)
Okay, bye