Camping Pie Style

For those of you who have followed my blog for any amount of time, may have reason to notice, than many of the “plans” I make end up in a debacle…I’m just sayin’

All summer we had been planning to go camping with my sister and some mutual friends with all the kids. We finally found a weekend, made our reservations, and looked forward to it.

Things looked gloomy for June and July, but then August hit, and finally the ark landed on dry ground and we thought for sure we were in luck. Beautiful weather…I even got a cucumber or two…Then…the weekend we were supposed to go camping…

A flurry of Facebook activity between the families let us know that Hurricane Dannyboy was coming for us, on the weekend we were supposed to go…OF COURSE IT WAS.

Half bailed, but my sister, my self and one other family felt the need to tempt fate and tough it out through a hurricane.

Friday was beautiful we drove up with all sorts of plans, set up our campsites which looked something akin to the Fort Knox of tarps, thanks to our superhero “Kit Tarpington” who climbed trees, scaled rocks and teeter tottered on picnic tables to hang tarps over our tents to assure us for our hurricane bound night.

And you know, setting up for 5 hours made sense when we were laughing, having a margarita, and the sun was shining on our backs.

However, what we failed to have the insight to see, was on the inside of our over confident trailblazing selves, was the overwhelming desire to be dry, and not have whining children in the rain.

As the hurricane came in, and we checked the forecast online, and all we saw was a mass of green for the next 12 hours, we decided to pack it in…

The 5 hours of setting up in the sun seemed fun, now, in the driving rain and gusting winds, trying to figure out how to get those knots undone while hanging by one fingernail from the branch of a tree and eating bark…not so much.

To add insult to injury, to wake up this morning, to sopping tents that have to be spread out all over the lawn to dry in the BLAZING BEAUTIFUL SUNNY BLUE SKIES, kind of makes me want to say some things I cannot post.

Pies law: If you plan it, it will be a debacle…I’m just sayin’

Blue Belly Button...

There are days where I just look at Henry and think to myself..."REALLY?"

I am just curious what makes someone sit in all sincerity and think....gee I think I will color my belly button blue...

This was a week ago...he has been swimming in pools, had baths, been in the ocean even, and STILL HAS A BLUE BELLY BUTTON... which as you can see, he is quite proud of!

An Unhealthy Obsession

Ok so I am writing this from the confines of a hospital room...actually I will later be typing this off of a piece of paper and trying to read my scratch, but you get the point.

No serious worries yet, but my eldest daughter is here for an ultrasound to make sure that her appendix has not decided to bail ship. So while I am sitting here in the waiting room which undoubtedly will be for years, waiting for this all to happen I thought I would talk about my newest, greatest obsession.

Drover's Run.

I am not one to get obsessed with TV shows...Ok that is a lie, every now and then one will be good enough for me to get into...Veronica Mars, Six Feet Under. You know the kind that you kind of think you know these people, and you can't wait to see them again? (Yeah, I am sounding scary and unstable...)

At any rate, my sister got me hooked on an Australian show called McLeods Daughters. My husband and brother-in-law could arguably say that we have an obsession with this because we are similar to the sisters in the show, which is true. They could also arguably say that we need to remember we are NOT Australian ranchers and that the use of “Right-O” and “Bloake” (I told you more on that later) probably make us kin to the “Trekkies” that are spouting of sentences in Clingon.

Between the sister thing, the Aussie lingo, the mad desire to be a farmer, I couldn’t say exactly what it is, but I am hooked, and starting to wonder about my sanity.

I got my mother in law hooked while she was here, re-watching some of season one with her. You know, bring everyone down with you I guess! I started to question myself because the first few are a little cheesy…but then I fell in love with the cows, and sheep drenching, hot helicopter Alex, the being able to vicariously live through my computer screen. (My mother in law had to sign up for Netflix before she left so she could keep watching! HA)

My husband is quite satisfied since he has unlimited time with the Red Sox now, because I curl up in a chair with the computer and watch my McLeods before bed.

My eldest rolls her eyes and say “Oh MOOOOOOOOMMMMM” in the way that only a teenager can belittle you, every time she hears the: “Previously on McLeod’s Daughters”

But hey, I could start my day with worse things. If a cup-a and an Australian Ranchopera start my day with my dream of someday having my own farm…well, I call that a daily reminder of my goal…and I am pretty sure that Anthony Robbins would be cool with it. LOL.

We Knew He Had a Brain...somewhere...

So life in our household has held its challenges this summer. I keep trying to get going on this blog again, but between meetings, hospital visits, singing gigs (more on that later), trying to save my garden and winter stash from the wrath of Mother Nature this summer, visitors visiting us in the...wait for it...VACATION STATE, and if I am really honest a general malaise that seems to have set up residence in my body I have totally neglected my blog. I actually have had a few people wonder about me…which made me all sappy inside.

As for the rest of you, I hope that you will continue to read when I get to it, and will stick with me through my stress…it has to end someday right?...Or as my dad says, “one way or another,” the cheerful bloake that he is. (More on use of that word later too…)

What spawned me to write, was Henry…I knew you wouldn’t have guessed it. I write on here often that I worry about him, and then I laugh because I think he is just sort of waiting to prove me wrong. I suppose it is always good and humbling to have one kid who works at making you feel like an overprotective, fool…otherwise you might just start believing all the playground parent, parent magazine gossip, and who knows where that could lead! I am not sure, but probably with me covered in antibacterial sitting in a padded room hugging a pediatric diagnosis book, and a bottle of wine!

So the other day I had my teenage niece in the car and she was letting the sun reflect off her phone onto the ceiling of the car and she looked at Henry and said, “Hey we better call the Scooby Gang to come investigate this mysterious light!”

Scooby is one of my sons very unhealthy obsessions…one that I disapprove of, but in times of needing to get work done have been known to turn to…I know…Bad Mom.

Henry looks at her, rolls his eyes and said:

“No Sawah, that is just the sun light reflecting off your phone onto the roof of the caaawww”
Sarah looked at me in amazement, and I fell into a stupor…The kid can’t recognize all his letters but knows the word reflection, not to mention the scientific process of what was happening. Rock on my baby boy, rock on