Back to School

Hurrah, school's back in! Henry was so excited to go back to school this morning he tried to leave for the bus stop half an hour early. As it was, the bus came half an hour late, so I'm glad I made him wait a bit. Of course, I forgot to get his picture before we went out to the bus stop, so I made him stand still after school so I could get one. He wasn't too excited about it.

I finally got a decent one while we played hide and seek after dinner.

We met his teacher a couple days ago at the Meet-the-Teacher thingy. She seems pretty cool, and today Henry announced that she was nice, so we've got high hopes this'll be another great year for him. And to make things even more awesome for Henry, his pal from kindergarten is in his class again this year. This is the same kid with which he tricked his bus driver into letting him get off at the wrong stop thereby nearly giving me a heart attack. And they've got a new bus driver this year...

It's going to be good year.

On Getting Old

So recently Ben rediscovered unicycling. Back in college Ben's unicycle was his primary mode of transportation on campus, which seems weird when you think about it, but it worked for him. Anyway, aside from a few random times, his old unicycle sat largely unused and forgotten in our basement for the last eight years. Then sometime this summer while he was out on a run he saw a unicyclist, and his fond memories kicked in and he went home and dusted off the unicycle. Ben's jogging career essentially ended the day he took it out for a ride on the greenway. He bought a new tire and did probably fifty miles on it when he was introduced to an online unicyclist forum and saw a photo of a mountain unicycle, or muni. Shortly thereafter Ben had his very own muni (which incidentally is about as tall as Henry). Then he thought it would be fun for me to learn to ride, producing another old unicycle from the basement, one he'd completely forgotten the existence of.

After we dusted off the cobwebs and I tried it out, we figured out it was about two inches too big for me even with the seat at its lowest setting, so I took it on a visit to my parents and my dad sawed the requisite inches off the frame. I've only had it out twice for practice, but on the second go I actually managed to stay on for a full rotation of the pedals, which I thought was awesome. Practice is slow going and infrequent, mostly because this isn't something I have any intention of trying without adult supervision.

With that being said, Ben and I went out for a bike trip on the American Tobacco Trail last Saturday. Since it was my first serious ride in nearly a decade, Ben decided we better pick an easy trail. This particular trail was created from what used to be a straight, level stretch of railroad tracks, running from New Hill to Durham. I took my old bike (upon which I had not sat in about eight years) and Ben took his muni. Ben's outfitted with helmet, gloves, and hydration backpack. Rules say bikers must wear helmets, but having grown up riding my bike through the woods and leaping off to see how far it'd roll before it crashed, I was tempted to let it slide this time. But Ben figured Henry's helmet would fit me and it did. So yes, I looked a complete dork in a child's helmet on my 24 inch mountain bike getting my butt handed to me on a flat trail trying to keep pace with a unicycle. Seriously, I did look dorky, but we did do over ten miles, and that's pretty good for my sedentary self.

And the next day after church I sat on the couch and iced my left knee.

I'm old.

Summer Update

I've been busy being lazy. That's what summers are for, right? Henry and I have spent a lot less time outside than I'd like, but it's been insanely hot and humid. Henry's progressed really well with his swimming and is now doing cannonballs and swimming with ease under water, floating on his back, diving and swimming in the deep end. We practiced quite a bit, prepping Henry for a trip to the water park in Greensboro. The 4th of July was fun, we went swimming and tried to see the fireworks, but it started raining pretty hard and they had to cancel, so we went home and relaxed.

The next day we got up bright and early for our trip to Wet & Wild. When I was a kid it was called Emerald Point, and the last time I went I got so burnt that my entire back was scabbed over. That was about eighteen years ago, but I will never forget my crispy turtle shell back. I'm not really a fan of the sun, and neither is Ben; this was a trip entirely for Henry's enjoyment. We stopped off for some breakfast at Bojangles in Siler City, taking our time, but we still arrived about a half hour before the park opened. While we stood in line we answered Henry's million of questions and perused the map with him. Then when we presented our tickets, they did a bag search and found a box of graham crackers, so I had to take them back to the car while Ben and Henry rented a locker. We're that nerdy family you see that all wear floppy hats and t-shirts and have eighteen layers of sunblock on. I was not ashamed in the slightest, though. It's fun to realize that any uneasiness about exposing white flabby thighs vanishes the moment you see the vast variety of humanity come to display their various hues and physiques, flattering or unflattering as they may be. So it was without trepidation that we set our white nerdy selves out upon the park. Henry's now tall enough to ride anything he wanted, and he wanted to ride down a slide first, so he ran up and randomly picked the one in the middle, dubbed, I noted belatedly, the Blue Streak. I followed after and knew immediately on that first plunge straight down that my little guy wasn't going to be too happy when I saw him next. It had been a little scary for him, so we decided to skip Dr. Von Dark's Tunnel of Terror and stuck with the gentler attractions. His favorite places were the kiddie pool with the submarine and the big one with the pirate ship. While at the pirate ship they found a large diamond that apparently fell out of someone's ring, but Ben got distracted when Henry jumped off the pirate ship into deep water and lost the diamond at the bottom of the pool. Oh, well. We managed to convince Henry to ride with us on a scary ride, all three of us in a float that went down a winding tube. Henry didn't like the look of things when we had to climb up a bunch of steps onto the platform where the ride started, and while he didn't love it, at the end of the day he went with us one more time. We stayed and sat in the shade to watch Ben ride down a hideously high, vertical drop water slide, but Ben chickened out and instead of going all the way to the top, took a lower, twisty tube slide down. Still, I figured he was pretty brave, since I wouldn't have gotten as high as the second or third landing beneath the first slide before losing my nerve. Henry decided to try the scary slides again, this time going down a gentler one. I followed, and then Ben came last. When Ben shot out of the tunnel, he accidentally dropped his glasses, so they had to stop the ride for about ten minutes while a lifeguard swam around on the bottom to retrieve them. Ben was embarrassed, Henry was bored, and I was ready to give up and buy Ben some new glasses. Luckily the glasses were found, happily putting an end to Ben's water slide adventures for the day. We spent some more time in the wave pool and the kiddie pools and by the end of the day we'd gone through the entire bottle of sunblock and I was completely exhausted. We went by Maggie's house for dinner and a little rest before heading home for the night.

Maybe a couple years from now we'll go back. To the water park, I mean. Maggie's wasn't so bad.

Mr. Big Feet

Henry's growing up so fast. At seven, the top of his head is just shy of my chin and his hands and feet are about an inch shorter than mine. I know that that's not much of a feat, considering my own size, but still. We were going out last week for a quick errand and Henry wanted to wear his flip flops from last year, but his heels hung over the backs. I told him to find another pair of shoes and he searched the shoe basket and unearthed an old pair of my flip flops. And they fit him. I let him wear them because I was in a hurry. The next day I bought him some new flip flops.

We're still waiting on him to lose a tooth. Apparently that can happen anywhere between six and eight. It seems funny because Henry's already hip to the non-existence of the tooth fairy, not to mention Santa Claus. But I told him whenever he finally loses a tooth I'll sneak in his room while he's sleeping and put something under his pillow. I won't lie to Henry when he wants to know the truth about things, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let him miss out on the fun stuff even if he knows it's just pretend.

Becoming More Feminine, Summer Vacation

The other day my sister Maggie and I were out doing something and she noticed that I'd stuffed my wallet, phone, and keys into my jeans pockets. Never one to refrain from speaking her mind, she promptly told me how stupid I looked. I'm perfectly aware that I am fashionably challenged, and that my aversion to purses has its drawbacks. I was content to haul my things in a backpack when Henry was little, but those days are long gone. For a while now, as much as I hate to admit it, I've realized that I need to get more in touch with my feminine side, i.e., get a purse of some kind. So, after a long internet search encompassing many days and eye rolls and sighs of disgust, I finally found something to haul my stuff in. It took me long enough because for some reason the things I like on sight always turn out to be too expensive (I will not spend eighty bucks on a purse, even though it may very well be the only purse I buy in this lifetime), and finding what I would settle for took gobs of patience. It's a small dark gray travel organizer, everything I need fits inside, it's not too man-pursey, it was twenty five dollars and they shipped it for free. If I know Maggie I'm pretty sure she'll think it's ugly as sin, and will certainly tell me so, but it works for me. There. Does that mean I'm more feminine?

As of last Friday afternoon, Henry's free of school for the summer. So far we have big plans for swimming, playing at the park, reading together, a little bit of housework, and lots of laziness. Yesterday Henry and I played at the park with some friends, went shopping, came home and had lunch, played video games, wrestled, had dinner, had Family Home Evening, read some Harry Potter, watched some Three Stooges, and sent Henry to bed. It was a nice day. I think it's going to be a nice summer.

And here's Henry and some important summer stuff:

Interesting Weekend

That's right, we had an interesting weekend.

Saturday was nice and lazy in the early morning. But, as Mom and Dad were set to come over around noon or so, I got off my butt and de-cluttered and dusted and vacuumed the living room. Dad expressed surprise at the lack of disorganization and so I was gratified.

Henry and I packed into the back of their car and rode with them to the seafood place at the farmer's market. Ben, a seafood hater, stayed home. We enjoyed a wonderful meal and then walked around the garden and produce stalls. Mom and Dad gave Henry a few dollars in change, which he spent on a little green and white striped spiky succulent plant. I looked around on the internet and think it's a Haworthia Fasciata Zebra. I think we might be able to keep it alive. Henry was really proud of himself because he was able to count out the change to pay for it. It was a nice afternoon and we looked at all the flowers and plants, sampled strawberries and stuff. Mom bought a few things and then the wind really started picking up. Then Mom got a call from my sister indicating there was a tornado watch in effect, so we decided to head home. Mom and Dad departed for their place and the Tilleys hung out and waited to see how the weather would turn out.

It started raining, dumping tons of water; there was a mini river running across our front lawn and the next door neighbor's yard flooded all the way over the back corner of their fence and rose almost up to the back of their house. When a tornado was reported in Sanford, we went down to the basement. Dori the cat crouched on the top basement step and yowled ominously. There was thunder and from the basement window we could see hail and lots of rain blowing around crazily outside. Henry thought it was neat that it was "green" outside. The light outside really was green, probably from all the leaves and stuff blowing around. We kept the radio on and listened as new and closer locales reported the tornado's swift progress east. Happily for us, the tornado went just south of our neighborhood. We went back upstairs and the rain let up pretty quickly after that, and all the water drained out of the yard. I was afraid the basement would flood again, but we escaped that. The only damage we had was a bunch of leaves, a few dead branches, and those wormy pollen things off the oak trees scattered all over the yard. After dinner the sun was out and the birds were chirping happily, so we went out for a walk around the greenway.

Sunday was nice and uneventful, we went to church and took an afternoon nap. Now Henry has the week off for Easter break.

And the living room is trashed again. Things are definitely back to normal.

Hold the Flies

I once asked Ben incredulously, "You don't like pumpkin pie?"

"No," he replied, annoyed by my incredulity.

"Not even with whipped cream on top?"

Ben, to my best recollection, rolled his eyes. "That's like asking somebody if they like crap*." Then he added with his best sarcasm, "Not even with flies on it?"

Yesterday he asked me what the stuff in the freezer that looked like frozen diarrhea was.

The stuff in the freezer was leftover filling from my attempt at some medieval food. I hosted book club last Friday and since we read "Doomsday Book," I decided to serve up some period food. I looked up medieval recipes online and found one that looked somewhat harmless. Cuskynoles are kind of these ravioli things with fruit and spices inside. Well, I was feeling ambitious despite the fact that I'd have to mash together an apple, pear, and a bunch of dates, almonds, figs, and currants. Not being in possession of a food processor, I had to use the blender. Luckily I was smart enough to do the almonds first. Then I mixed the pear chunks and figs, and when that wasn't going so well I added the apple chunks. After I accidentally chopped off the end of my spatula, I had to dump everything out so I could fish the plastic chunk out of the sticky, slippery goo. Boy, was that fun. Then I had to rinse off the blender because by that time it was completely covered in in glop. In the end I just dumped everything back in the blender and ground it all up into uniform disgustingness (that's not a real word, I know, but it really conveys my feelings at the time). After I rolled out the dough and filled each cuskynole, I boiled them and then grilled them under the broiler. They reminded me a little of pumpkin pie, but not really. I ought to have used about half the cloves called for. So no, I didn't love the heck out of them. Some of them did get eaten at book club, though. Luckily for everyone I had enough time to make some bread to go with the cuskynoles. I wanted to make peasant bread to compare with the rich people food, so I went to the store for some rye and barley flour. They didn't have any, so instead of shopping around I opted for some spelt flour and buckwheat. I added some whole wheat flour and a little all purpose flour so it wouldn't bake into a brick. The bread turned out better than I thought, especially since I wasn't going by any particular recipe.

And though the cuskynoles weren't my favorite, it was such a huge pain to make the filling that I couldn't just throw it out. That may happen at some future date, but I'm sure by then I won't feel guilty anymore.

Saturday was fun. Ben, Henry and I went to Asheboro to see my nieces and nephew get baptized. Afterwards we went out to eat and hung out at Mom and Dad's. Too bad the weather was nasty. This is why spring is not my favorite. Nice eighty degree weather for a week or so and then it slams down back into the forties. Blecch.

Life's good in spite of the weather, though. Just thought you'd like to know.

* Ben's version was slightly less printable (this is a PG blog).

Happy Birthday, Henry!

I'm Dreaming of a White Boxing Day

This was the first Christmas in a long time that I didn't hear any pleas for Legos. In fact there was hardly any nagging at all. This year Henry decided that he wanted a Wii for Christmas. Ben and I were hoping that we could skip a generation of gaming consoles and wait for the next new thing to come out, but Henry has friends who have Wiis, got a taste of the good life and decided he liked it. He wrote a letter to Santa indicating that he'd been good and that he wanted a Wii and a Wii game. Much like the kid in the Christmas Story movie, Henry knew that talking face to face with Santa Claus would seal the deal. He finally got his chance at the church Christmas party. I didn't get to hear the whole conversation, and I know Santa didn't make any promises, but he did assure Henry that he knew Henry had been a good boy. That was all it took. Henry's faith was cemented; he knew he was getting a Wii for Christmas.

Christmas morning Ben and I stayed in bed, listening for Henry's descent into the living room. There was no shouts of joy or exclamations of surprise. Henry came quietly into our room and announced (much in the same way one announces the sun has risen), "I got my Wii." The red one like he wanted, and 2 Wii games.

I have to say I was surprised by his calm demeanor, but it was really awesome to witness Henry realizing that there can be an assurance of hope and faith rewarded. I already knew that, though. I have Ben and Henry.

And it snowed on the 26th. Quite a bit for our neck of the woods, and for once it was the good kind of snow you can actually do stuff with. So we had our walk through a rare winter wonderland to the park and then went home and made a snow man.

Henry samples snow:

And Frosty: