She's a Wild One

I'm baking oatmeal raisin cookies right now and the smell might be enough to make me eat one.  So instead of eating one, I'm going to write one instead.  

Some serious miles were put on over the long holiday 4th of July sparkling weekend, 25 this way bright and early for a parade only to go the 25 back and then add 160 that way for a family picnic and fireworks night.  Then a wake up before the sun to drive the 160 back home so a certain person could work (I felt bad...for a minute).  And then a smarter person than I would have stayed home and possibly relished in having a moment of silence, but instead I packed up some sunscreen and skewer making supplies and hit the road to head 100 miles the other way to find Danae and her people at the lake.  Knowing full well I'd haul that distance back the same night so I could wake up the next morning to drive 59 miles the other way to Sister Pister's rodeo and back home for the afternoon and then to the farm for picnic and fireworks and then back home.  At that point it was Saturday night and I slept. 
 

It was a lot of going, going, and gone with brief thoughts of I should have stayed home and kept things simple. 

But then there was this one moment on the water, right before we were going to head back to the cabin on Friday evening.  "She's a Wild One" by Faith Hill came on over the pontoon radio.  Danae and I sang.  Like sang sang, loudly and without missing a beat while the wind blew gusts across our faces and dried out soaking wet hair.  We had Emma sandwiched between us at that point and she kept looking up at us and laughing.  We were feeling it. 

And right there and then, it made everything worth it.

Earlier that day, I had asked Danae, "So is those whole lake thing working out for you?  Do you get tired of the packing and cooking and hauling and dragging everything and kids being out of their routine?"  Her response came later because we were interrupted with somebody needing something.  Her response came when we were on the boat and her kids were soaking wet from swimming and we were all sun tired.  She looked over at me and said, "I love the lake." 

I do believe it's part of being an adult.  The hauling and planning and cooking and organizing and not really relaxing while doing the vacation-esque thing.  It's part of our jobs.  To have the little people around us experience life. 

Experience going under a wave with their "Auntie" Amy and having their momma have a mild panic attack watching from the sidelines. 

Experience telling stories on the boat while everyone laughs at you.  Those skills come in handy later in life when trying to make new friends in college.

Experience tubing with their dad. 

 

Experience watching their mom and her friend sing so loudly and freely with not a care in the world.  Or not seem to have a care in the world anyway.  That's the key. 

And no, I don't have kids of my own but I sure am around many sets of them in many different settings and I believe in the fun.  The fun which comes from not always making the smart choice about keeping things simple or miles driven. 

The fun which comes from grabbing the baby who really isn't a baby anymore but yet always will be and looking for fish as a distraction from the mommy clingy syndrome. 

The fun which comes from interesting fashion statements like brother's baseball cap and a baby doll's scarf. 

The fun which comes from fires in the evening air. 

The fun which comes from just doing it.  And sleeping later. 

Love Sparklers

Happy 4th of July!  May there be sparklers and sunburned ears in everyone's near future.  This is right up there with my favorite holiday.  Really they probably all are my favorite as I have a hard time choosing when it comes to parties and celebrating and theme colors and such.  But there is something about red, white, and blue paired with sunshine and family and fireworks.  There sure is something.   

 

I think we tend to forget we are blessed to have freedom.  It's been an always there right for all of us in my generation, never a question if we'd get to be driving home on a Sunday evening to the music we want to listen to blaring through the speakers on the car we chose to drive after freely spending the weekend out on the water with friends followed by dinner with family in the outside air.  All the while a hot air balloon floats in the sky up ahead. 

 

 

Never a question.  Freedom to work and play as we see fit.   

 

Because we live here. 

 

I have the freedom to believe in lip gloss and donkey kicks and sparkly objects and theme parties and taking pictures and writing words and book club and friends and family and working hard and simply running around to do as much as possible.  I have the freedom for all of those ridiculous things I do because of this place called the United States of America. 

 

On this 4th of July, go sparkler it up and give an extra cheers for our red, white, and blue. 

 



It is Something

I'm not one to get into the he said she said of politics and I tend to veer away from the news and I often think about what I could do with my tax money instead of the way it is handled.  But being able to stand in a voting line and hear a pair of grandparents go on about the day they spent with their granddaughter Lily and see the light in their eyes from loving her...is something.  And it's something because we all live in a place where we have every opportunity under the sun to work hard and be good humans.  He said she said all aside. 





Every Parade Needs a Tractor

Creativity and imagination were not recommended when I was growing up; they were a requirement.  I actually have a memory of sitting in the tree rows cutting grass into square pieces over a tin Folgers coffee can.  I was making a stew on our "fire."  My brother and I were playing Indians.  I am aware that might not be politically correct terminology but that's what we called it and that's where this memory is coming from.  Momma Debi was the Trading Post and we would go into her kitchen to make our trades for supplies or food.  And then she'd send us on our way giving us clues about what rough terrain we might come upon or what kind of wild animals had been spotted recently or tell us which path to take on our map.  That's one tiny capture of an example; there are so many more.  We lived outside.  Coming up with games on our bikes or playing with the animals or doing chores or building forts or helping Dad-o in the shop.  Outside it was.  Using our creativity and imagination. 

Yesterday while we sat around a table enjoying lunch together, as often happens, stories started to be told.  One of the time my cousin Brian and I flew from the little kid sized four-wheeler when a rock was hit in the pasture.  We were both adults at the time.  I was holding feed buckets and they didn't spill.  It was classic.  Another of Buckshot and Sister Pister tying old mattress springs they found in the trees to their tennies to create bouncing shoes.  Yet one more of the time those two knuckleheads hooked up a metal saucer sled to the back of the four-wheeler with a rope.  Buckshot pulled Sister Pister around and around the circle driveway whipping her fast on the turns until I heard the sparks flying while I was in the backyard watering the flowers.  There were sparks because it was summer and they were on gravel.  Geniuses.  They were also either seven or eight at the time.  They were child geniuses.  While this story was being told yesterday, Buckshot piped in with, "HEY!  We did put a towel down on the sled!" 

Creativity and imagination are still rolling in our family.  In the late afternoon sun of our 4th of July celebrations, the kids started organizing a parade.  Without any direction from us.  They were rocking their imaginations. 

Brother announced the parade for them because he does that kind of thing.  Their faces lit up when he pulled out the microphone. 

Watching them go around and around the circle driveway, the driveway which has seen its fair share of foot races and lawn mower races and metal saucer sled pulling in the summertime heat shenanigans, was a heart happy moment for us all. 

And then I don't know who, but someone said, "Let's have an adult parade!" 

That's all it took. 

We scattered.  Fast.  Like a herd of cats.  You know how I feel about cats but that's the only way to describe the scene.     

Looking for what would be our ticket.  A bike, a gator, pushing a stroller, a too small bike.  Things were getting snatched up quick.  Daisy the dog even joined in. 

  

I fluttered around for a bit.  First, I hopped on this little tricycle.  And quickly realized that would be a no go. 

So I did the next logical thing.  I grabbed a chunk of Gouda cheese out of the garage fridge, jumped on the front of the four-wheeler, and proclaimed myself to be the Cheese Queen.  While we were lining up, I ran to the house with the spark of an idea yelling, "Wait!  Just wait!"  I came out with a tinfoil crown my Aunt Jane, who was inside cleaning up the kitchen, thought of bobby-pinning to my head.  Every queen needs a crown. 

At about that same time, Dad-o came rolling down the sideyard road in a tractor. 

Yes, my dad left his post of grilling hamburgers so he could run to the back building and fire up a tractor to enter in our parade.  Can you imagine the story his grandchildren will tell of the 4th of July parade at the farm?  It was and will be priceless. 

Creativity and imgination.  Taught by example. 

Another thing I've learned from this family of mine...you never really grow up.       

Of All Things 4th of July!

The Fourth of July is right up there with a favorite holiday in my book.  Sparkly things, the sun, parades, family, night fires, theme outfits...so much of the good stuff wrapped into one day. 

Yesterday was a best day ever. 

Started with a small town parade. 

Moved on to the farm for some horse riding. 

Followed by some slip and sliding.

 
And grilling of deliciousness. 

With fresh up from naps baby holding. 

And stubborn teenage boying. 

Accompanied by the organizing of a kid parade complete with announcing of course. 

With lots of picture taking. 

And baby laughing. 

Interrupted by the big kids deciding it was time for parading too.  (More to come on this whole scene.  It was really something.)   

Birthday celebrating and singing and candle blowing happened. 

The gator never stopped moving. 

The sun started doing its thing right up. 

There was sister picture taking.

And rough housing by the fire. 

Firework planning.

S'more making. 

Grandma snuggling. 

Fireside air guitaring. 

Sparkler dancing.

Dangerous camera work with a sparkler in my mouth at one point. 

Firework lighting. 

And Grandma dancing.  It does not get any better. 

The full moon was the night time icing on the cake to the perfect 4th of July day.  A best day ever no doubt.