Camping: Family, Turtles, Dogs, Fish, and WATER MOCCASINS

We went camping with my mom's family over Memorial Day.  We had lots of fun.

And lots of food.

And lots of sweat.

Because it was hot.

But never fear!  My Uncle JimBob who never considers anything that could be classified as "fun," also "inconvenient" brought his old easy set pool.  My sister in law saw the pool and said, "Someone brought a POOL?  That's is pretty redneck.  But it's really fun too."  And it sure was.

It was the hit of the trip.

Dead Eye got a "new" boat from my cousin Diane's husband, Phil.  Maybe that was the hit of the trip.

My cousin Matt's son shot water moccasins with his BB gun.  While they were still in the water.  Perhaps that was the hit of the trip?

Chesney jumped into the pond and decided to go for a swim.  The pond is  surrounded with cattails and moss.  Grace and I were paddling about in the boat when she decided to join us.  I knew there was no way I could haul a 60 pound dog into the boat, and I didn't want her to get tangled in the reeds, so Phil called her back to shore on a log where he could drag her out.  As she swam to shore, she went straight to a heavily mossy area.   Of course.

Later that same day, the kids were switching places and Kelsey ventured out onto that very log to supervise.  And she got knocked in.  The girls started screeching and panicking, and generally over reacting.  I called her back to the same low spot on the log where Phil had drug Chesney in, grabbed her collar (the water was about 9 feet deep in that spot, per Dead Eye) and pulled her to safety where she trembled and quaked, then ran to the camp grounds where she collapsed in relief under our camper and did not move again until we returned to camp.

Perhaps that was the most memorable moment of the trip?

Oh, wait!  Maybe it was when two little boys decided to moon three little girls in the pool.  I'm pretty sure the girls won't soon forget it.  And since all I could do was chuckle in response to their humble apology, I'm not sure they were as contrite as the adult who scolded hoped when I just laughed.

Or, maybe the most memorable moment was this: 

This is my nephew.  And he almost NEVER lets me take his picture.  But this time he did!  Now, it could be because I took him fishing, and even put the worm on his hook for him.  Then I took the fish off of the hook.  Perhaps the whole worm touching, slimy fish removing thing raised me a few bars in his estimation.

Oh!  Do you see that log right up there?  That became the boat dock.  And this is the very log Kelsey fell off of (have I ever told you she HATES water?).  AND this is the exact log that Logan jumped off of to cool off.  And he learned the water was about 9 feet deep here.

And he learned that not only were there turtles, fish, and water moccasins in the pond, but the pond was also home to LEECHES!  I asked him if he's ever seen "Stand By Me."  He hadn't.  Do you remember the scene where they fall into that little swampy area, and Wil Wheaton's character discovers a leech on his "private body" in the words of my sister?  Well, I just linked that clip up to facebook for his viewing enjoyment.

I regret to report I got no pictures of the wiffle ball game.  I wish I had evidence of this unruly game.  Our rules differ somewhat from other family's wiffle ball, most glaringly by two very obvious differences:  Five strikes to get out, and to tag the person out, you simply throw the ball at them and if it nails them, they're out!

What games do you play with your family get up to whenever you get together?

Perhaps We've ALL Been Mislead

Things are...

Perhaps...

NOT always as they appear...

For example, a picture of a vicious dog attack could in fact simply be...

A picture of my dog playing with Brent's puppy...This would in fact be the same dog that patiently allows aforementioned puppy to hang from the skin folds of her neck while she is attempting to walk away...

And can we not all agree that there must be some level of humiliation even in the dog world involved with skin folds on the neck?

*Shudder*

Another misleading picture could be this:

Well, perhaps it's not misleading precisely...  Perhaps instead it is a simple statement that was quite true in 1968...

You see, in my eagerness to go camping with the fam, I decided to go two days ahead of my husband...  I arrived a little after noon on Thursday, and my brother agreed to help me set up my camper and my nephew offered to help, but he mostly ended up watching in that special way that 16 year old boys can "help" while not really knowing what to do...Of course he willingly fetched lots of items for us!

As we were attempting to slide out the last bed, it was giving me some difficulty, and I couldn't get the final brace for the canvas to come into position.  I called Brent to ask if perhaps I was opening it out of order...You see, 1968 pop up tent campers must be erected in a very precise order...

As I was on the phone I was attempting to raise the brace and

BANG!!!

The darn rivet broke...

And David vanished in to thin air....

No not really.  He looked through his tools for the random bolt to repair the rivet (you can see the bent hinge and newly replaced bolt attaching it to the sliding part thingy that brings the bed out...

Of course he DIDN'T have a bolt so I had to make my dad go with me into town to buy a bolt to temporarily replace the rivet...

And then I realized Brent forgot to throw the jack in to brace the tongue on.  Of course I improvised with the spare tire and a log that previous campers had left behind...Which did not prove as stable as a jack designed to hold it in place...

Oh!  And did I forget to mention that the ground jacks that hold up one half of the camper tend to slip now???

That was exciting when the girls were fast asleep and I was trying to quietly slip into bed...

They did not wake up, but I was immediately afraid the whole thing was going to capsize...

This post has many dot dot dots, no?

Well, on that note, I'm done for now.

Oh, except you simply must go over and read Dawn's post on what you must do while on fall break...

And then you must mentally realize that when she says you look for pearls in clam shells you must picture this child:

And she is pulverizing clams with a stick and finally throwing them on the concrete to bust them open in an effort to discover pearls...

I am glad the SPCA was nowhere around when this was going on...

And I'm glad my mom had a hair dryer in her camper as the very FIRST thing she did was fill her rain boots completely full of mud in her quest for clams...We had to hose them out, and strangely rubber boots with a fabric liner take FOREVER to dry...

FOREVER!

Of course she filled them with mud AFTER she got her only other pair of shoes completely caked in mud.

I'm sure you're all quite shocked any child of mine would be up to such shenanigans...

I'm quite sure she gets it from her father.

I'm glad you agree.

The Laundry Saga and Vomitrocious

Remember our swimming adventure last Sunday?  Well, one of my children decided to throw her wet pond clothes in with all of our dirty clothes while camping...in a plastic bag.

Luckily I had discovered the wet clothes before they were soaked into everything else, and laid them on the merry go round to dry....


The other child simply wore hers until they were dry.  She said it felt better to be wet.

Fast forward to Monday  morning.  Studmuffin asked where I wanted the girls clothes.  "I have theirs in a separate plastic bag.  Put it in Mom's car since they are going home with her, and she may need extra clothes."

I finally got around to doing laundry Tuesday morning.  And I discovered not only our laundry, but the separate bag of the girls clothes.  I rolled my eyes and washed them with everything else, deciding Mom has a washing machine, so she could wash some if they needed...

As I was folding clothes, a curious thing occurred.  There were no clothes for one of my children.  Only one lone pair of socks.  Matched, even!  That is a small miracle around here...

I met my folks to get the girls Wednesday night.  I voiced my thoughts on the lack of clothes for one child.  Mom said, "Oh, I washed all of their clothes this morning, but Bookworm showed me some that hadn't made it to the dirty clothes.  She put them in a plastic bag."  What a mom!  Still doing laundry for me 35 years later...

We had some drama with puking driving down the interstate, (let's just say that you should never leave home without a 44 ounce plastic up and a plastic bag to catch the overflow....I kid you not) and by the time we got home I had to drop off the girls and head straight to choir.  I failed to unload their luggage from my car.

Wait! 

I must stop and chase this bunny trail I started...We're driving down the road.  My child yells, "I'm going to be sick."  I grab the cup and thrust it at her...She pukes and pukes and pukes...I yell at her sister to "Unbuckle and find a plastic bag!"  She finds one thrown in the very back.  Just in the nick of time she clamors over the seat and gets it under her sister's face as the cup begins to overflow...

Did you realize there were no exits where we were?  Call me crazy, but I just did not feel safe pulling over on the shoulder of the interstate with high winds whipping the trucks all over the road...

We rode with a cup and bag full of puke for several miles.  The smell was quite enjoyable.   I spied an exit with a Denny's sign...I pulled right off, circled around to the back of that lovely establishement, located the dumpsters, and dumped my cup of puke and bag of puke...

*gag*

I forced myself to take some wet wipes and clean the cup in case she felt the need to cast up her accounts again...

*gag*

Returning to topic:

Thursday I told the girls to unpack.  I mentioned that I was thankful that their grandma washed all their laundry, so they just had to unpack...

Guess what?  "Grandma didn't wash any of our clothes" said a certain child.  Surprisingly enough, this was the very child who only had one lone pair of socks in the laundry I had washed.  It turns out this child had thrown every piece of clothing she'd worn on the camping trip and at her grandparents back in her bag.  So naturally it did not get washed.  She carried her bag into her room, and was going to pull out "what is still clean." 

OH THE AROMA!!! 

That bag stunk to high heaven.  I pulled everything out, threw it all in the wash and sprayed her luggage down with some lavender linen spray...

By the time this chore was completed, the guilty child was putting away the dishes.  I went to give her a hug and tell her how glad I was to have her home with me today.  "Even if you do bring home a stinky bag of clothes."  She started to giggle.

And she giggled some more. 

And some more.  I decided I was suspicious of the amount of laughter my statement engendered...

Naturally I asked "What's so funny?"

"I tooted while you were hugging me" she shouted gleefully.

"You. Are.  Disgusting."

And she about fell over laughing.

This is the life I'm living, Gentle Reader.

Clearly.  Disgusting.

Camping

We had our annual family camping trip to a lovely little municipal park outside of my husband's hometown this past weekend.  It is a weekend of fun for all with golfing, fishing from the spring fed pond, nature hikes....

And food.  Lots and lots of food.

On Sunday we had a little shindig for my Grandma Irene for her 91st birthday which will actually be June 8th.  However we will be unable to all see her on that day, so I bullied the siblings into all coming and nagged my Grandma into traveling to see us for a little celebration.  We had hot dogs and hamburgers, and I had made a delicious sheet cake that appeared perfectly normal when we left my house, but apparently it had a mishap somewhere after it left my house, whether it was the trip in an ice chest or the day in a cabinet of my mom's camper.  The temperature was over 105 degrees on Sunday.  I'm thinking the combination of moist refrigeration followed by heat in my mom's cabinet somehow melted it...Of course she had her A/C running, but with temperatures that high, it is nearly impossible to keep a camper cool!

Anyhoo, I chatted with my Grandma while I helped with lunch, but as soon as lunch was over, my cousin Ben informed me that he was taking all of the kids fishing and swimming at a local farm pond that was about fifteen feet deep.  My dad informed my husband and I that we were both going to help chaperon/life guard.  I know he didn't want to go, and Paula was going to be gone for the summer, and he didn't want her kids to miss out on the fun, so that left Studmuffin & I to help Ben lifeguard.  I may be 35, but if my Dad points his finger and tells me I'm going to do something, I do it...Even when he phrases it as a request.  I know it's really NOT a suggestion.

Logan in a paddle boat.  We later realized the paddle boats were missing their rudders.  That made steering interesting to say the least.

That farm pond was the coolest!  My brother David had tagged along, and we made a dash for the paddle boats...As we lifted it to drag into the water I screamed because a water snake slithered out from under it and into the water.  I informed him I was NOT getting into that boat until they lifted the boat completely off of the ground and I was assured no more snakes were under it or getting IN IT with me...

After that was ascertained I happily hopped in with my brother and merrily paddled away...We had a few issues with steering, and we later learned the darn thing didn't have a rudder.  After a few minutes my brother's bottom became wet.  And a big puddle formed under his feet...He jumped up on the back of the seat, because he obviously could NOT get wet.  In a farm pond.  In 105 degree heat.  Never fear, Gentle Reader.  I peddled his sorry carcass to shore.  I needed to burn a few calories anyway after eating nearly nonstop all weekend.

Ben wished he had a camera to take pictures of their faces.  He said Bookworm's face said "I MADE IT!" every single time.

We drug the boat up on shore as far as we could (which was much harder since it was full of water now.)  The little ones ended up taking over the other paddle boat, and I headed for the raft that my cousin had drug from the shore to the middle of the pond.

See the moss?  Well, right where it stops, the ledge drops off and it gets deep.  Obviously they had to jump BEYOND the moss.

Did I mention that the pond was cold?  It is spring fed, and about 15 feet deep, which is down at least 6 feet from it's normal level due to the drought, and believe me, it was COLD!

So, my maniac 6'4 (guessing here, I just know I have to tip my head to talk to most of my cousins and I'm 5'8) cousin did a swan dive off of the lovely high dive built of high line poles and bridge beams.  I made him jump off of it two more times before I would let my kids and Paula's boys jump off of it.  Feet first.  With Ben in the water right beside where they were jumping in.  It was a good thing, as Aiden's water shoes were making it hard for him to swim.  But of course, he couldn't take them off!

My cousin Diane's husband showing how crazy he is.

My Uncle JimBob and I talked about how stressful it was if the kids failed to swim immediately to the top and instead felt the need to swim under water to the raft...Like Popcorn.  That kid was the first to jump in, and she jumped the farthest, and she was upset that I wouldn't let her do back flips like Phil.  Thanks Phil.  Thanks a lot...She got over it and had fun anyway.

I'm not entirely sure this is the face of a stressed out man...

After watching the kids, my cousin Diane's husband decided the kids were having too much fun.  He climbed up there and did 1 1/2 flip...three times.  The picture indicates the safety of that decision...Yes, that's black mud all over his shirt.

The pond was down, and the wind had been up.  That is why there is so much junk on the shoreline.  60mph winds will blow stuff into the pond that is meant to be enjoyed on the shore.  Like that once lovely folding chair.

Monday we had to pack up and come home after three fun filled days.  Thankfully the weather was great until yesterday, as the other two days we actually needed jackets off and on to stay warm...Until Sunday into the night, when we suffered in heat until about 1:30 am, then suddenly I needed a blanket to be warm.

If that ain't class, darlin' I don't know what is.

Anyway, we had a great time.  I hope any family on the Richard side that's reading this will feel jealous and join us next year!  We were up to 8 campers parked in our circle this year.  Be sure and mark your calendars for next Memorial Day!  It was great fun!  Sure the cotton is flying!  I say take a Claritin, 1200mg Mucinex and 30mg of Pseudoephedrine!  It will cure what ails ya when the pollen is high...Of course, you may not be able to keep up with your thoughts, but you will feel great!

Camp Snoopy

Did you know we went camping? Did you know we own a pop up camper? Did you know it's from 1969 and has been in a Quonset barn, unopened since 1972? Did you know it's actually pretty warm (we didn't even use a heater) and beats sleeping on the ground? Did you know it didn't even leak when it started raining Thursday night and that the rain didn't stop until Friday after lunch? Did you know it's easier to put up and take down than a tent? Did you know this is the only picture I took of it, while I'm pretty sure my sister Dawn took at least ten?

Well, now you do!

Did you know that we went to an estate sale and a multifamily garage sale? Oh, and don't forget we also went to the thrift store. Did you know we go there every year?

Did you know I found these Camp Snoopy glasses from McDonald's for fifty cents?

Did you know I found an Eddie Bauer jean jacket for three bucks, and it fits perfect?

Did you know that I actually had a really cool crafty idea that we did as a group, and I took pictures with Paula's camera? Did you know she better blog about it?

Well, now you do.

Camping

We went camping last week with my family. There were 22 of us in all.

Good news!

We didn't have to sleep on the ground this year!

Guess what?

I hardly took any pictures! I took one picture of a human.

See this innocent little freckle face with Kelsey? The morning I took this picture, I woke up at about 6:30. It was still dark. I had to potty. I debated laying in bed and ignoring the urge, as I had to hike to the bathrooms and then I'd be wide awake. However, when Kelsey woke up, and started moving around, I figured she needed to potty too, so I gave up.
I got up, went outside to grab the leash which was left on the table outside. I then grabbed a little flashlight, stood outside the camper and hooked Kelsey's leash, brought her out, closed the camper door, then zipped it shut. Kelsey and I both turned to head out for our morning ablutions.

Suddenly, Kelsey began to growl and bark in her fiercest manner! I darn near had a heart attack. What could it be? A bear? A cougar? A rabid coyote come to rip my throat out? I placed my hand on her collar and told her to be quiet so as not to wake everyone else...She ignored me....It's moments like this when I understand everyone saying she's my third child...

I looked up and saw a PERSON standing about 10 feet away with their back to us. Every hair stood up on my body, and my heart began to pound. The person remained standing stock still, not saying a word...

It was a small person. Wearing a floppy hat. I cocked my head to the side and looked closer.

"Elvis? Is that you?"

The little dude turned around and sure enough! It was my 9 year old nephew, out wandering around in the dark. He saw us coming out, didn't want to startle me, so he just decided to stand still and be quiet so as to give me a heart attack instead.

Obviously, he and Kelsey made up as you can see in the above picture. Apparently he'd been up since before , ready to fish. His brother was already out fishing, but when Elvis started down the trail where he suspected his brother was, he heard a "skunk in the brush," so he beat it back to the camp sites.

I have no idea why he'd think there was a skunk.

The night we arrived, Studmuffin had stopped to grab Sonic. He was late getting to the camp. He showed up around 9pm, and immediately got out and started to put the cover on the boat and fix all of the stuff I'd done wrong when erecting our camper. Apparently, I should have done more than just watch him fold it out before we went. In my mind, he was going to be a few minutes, not 4 hours behind me. That's the only defense I have, weak as it is. Anyhoo, in his haste to make everything right, he sat his half eaten dinner on the ground near our boat.

As he was carrying stuff into the camper he heard a rustling sound. This skunk was the biggest he'd ever seen. And not one whit afraid of him. Apparently, he has grown up around this lake, and he knows diligence and boldness lead to tater tots and popcorn chicken. Being the wonderful man he is, Studmuffin just knew it was a blogging moment. So he recorded it for all posterity.

Ain't he grand?

Just So You Don't Miss Me...

I know this here blog is the sunshine in your day. Since I will be unable to post for a few days, I've decided to repost some things that happened this year last time...

So you can be praying no such shenanigans occur again.

Like ruptured ear drums....

Or bronchitis...

Or sinus infections...

And that was just me!

Anyhoo, here's an oldey but goodey as they say! Check it out!

Clickety click click!

I Have This Thing for Cinnamon Rolls

We're going camping with my family this weekend. In preparation, I'm thinking of what I will eat. Studmuffin? He's thinking of what he needs to have to catch the most fish. I really don't care to fish at all.

Oh, I love to be out on the water, however, I just want to lay back and read a book. Sadly, my husband is completely unsupportive of this. I'm constantly having to help bait a kids hook. Or steer the boat...Or some other tedious task that completely interferes with my desire to just sit and read or stare into space.

But, this is not a post about fishing...

It's a post about cinnamon rolls. Hence the title!

We had this lovely little lady in the town I was raised near (read here 26 miles away from) who was renowned for her cinnamon rolls. I actually have her recipe, since she came to our home economics class and taught us how to make them!

However, her recipe involves patience. You make your own dough...

Then you have to let it rise....

And like most doughs, you knead it and roll it out...

I'm already impatient for that cinnamon roll, and I'm just typing about it! So, if you live in my hometown that I actually never lived in I recommend you just take your little self over and pay Ginger a visit, and I'm quite sure she will have a cinnamon roll to offer you. Then you will only eat one, instead of the whole pan that will be at your house should you get a hankering for rolls, and so decide to make them.

Was just the longest, most confusing sentence ever, or what?

Did I mention I love cinnamon rolls? I think I've done at least 2 other posts involving variations of cinnamon rolls. But they are just so darn good!

I want to take cinnamon rolls camping. However, as we are the poor relation who will be staying in our 1969 Apache pop up tent camper, I will not have an oven. I am supposed to work this week, so that leaves little time for baking days upon end in preparation as I am wont to do.

As I was thinking about my desire for cinnamon rolls, and homemade ones at that, I considered monkey bread. However, I know that I know that I know it won't last a whole day from the minute it's made, since we will all just keep snitching a little ball of deliciousness as we walk by...

I considered my super easy crescent roll cinnamon rolls, but I was really wanting that yeasty bread taste...

So, here's what I came up with:


Ingredients:
1 can of refrigerated french bread
butter
1/2 c sugar (or more, these measurements are not very concrete)
1 T cinnamon (note here: Studmuffin said they needed more cinnamon, but the last batch of rolls I made he claimed had too much...You just can't please some people!)

Icing:
1 pkg neufchatel cheese
powdered sugar (not sure how much...I just dumped, blended, and dumped until I had the right consistency)
1 tsp pure vanilla (No extract in this house)
a pinch of salt (no idea why. I just did it, then asked myself why...I sometimes act and then think. I know, this shocks you)

Unroll the french bread. Slather generously with softened butter. Do yourself a favor and throw that margarine in the garbage. Embrace the butter! Mix the cinnamon and sugar together, then sprinkle over butter. Roll french loaf up. Slice into desired thickness and place in greased (with butter of course) pan. Sprinkle with additional cinnamon if you haven't just used the last bit you have...If you are out of cinnamon, stop and ask yourself how you could possibly be out of something you use every single day, and you just went to the store.

Once you are through asking yourself things there are just no good answers to, throw those babies in the oven. Bake at 350 for about 25 minutes, or until done.

While rolls are baking, combine the neufchatel (You can use cream cheese, but why when it's more calories and fat?) with powdered sugar. Splash in about a teaspoon of vanilla and the pinch of salt that you are completely unsure why you just threw in...I guess it just feels like the thing to do in the moment. Mix well...Continue to add sugar until your frosting is desired consistency. If you get it too thick, never fear! Just splash in a bit of milk until it's thinned out!

Now, when you pull those rolls out of the oven, spread that creamy delicious frosting all over it.

Go ahead, use the whole thing when maybe half the batch will do. This is all about cinnamon rolls, and self control has no place here...


Now pour yourself a big mug of hot coffee, grab yourself a good book, and dig in!

The Boy in the Yellow Shirt

Hereafter to be known as BYS. Because, clearly, typing the boy in the yellow shirt and reading it would become quite tedious by the end of this post. And I'm pretty sure this post can be tedious enough as it stands on its own.

As a refresher I will remind each of you that we went camping over Memorial day. There was fishing and golfing and croquet and general good times for all....

I learned this year that apparently, some people do not properly supervise their obnoxious children. Mind you, I try to supervise my kids as little as possible, but fortunately for the rest of the world they are not rude and obnoxious. Just ask anyone! Look at that face! Could you ever perceive that as anything but sweetness and light? Of course the little girl in the above picture is not actually my child, but her face is pretty stinkin' sweet!


Another family was having a family reunion at the pavilion in the park we were staying at. There were only 3 kids with them, 2 sisters and a brother. They crashed the fishing party my dad was supervising. I came along with refreshments to see BYS using my girls pole. No big deal, I'm happy to share...Until he began to say "This is the stupidest pole set up. The bobber is too light for the weight. It keeps sinking so I have to reel it in. That is why I'm not catching any fish."


My dad patiently explained that this was our very last bobber as the rest were strung up in branches over our head, much like Christmas lights, but hopelessly out of reach. Also, we didn't have any smaller weights, so the bobber that we swiped from my cousins tackle box was all we had.
He continued to complain. And be rude. And generally get on my nerves. My dad ended up going back to camp...

"This pole is stupid..." He started up again.

I had enough. "Did you bring a pole with you?"

He looked completely dumbfounded by this question. "I never bring a pole with me."

"Well, if you don't bring your own fishing equipment, you can't complain about how they are set up. You have to just use what's provided."

The little BYS didn't get the hint and continued to complain.


Supper time rolled around and we headed back to camp. He and his sisters followed.

And proceeded to call each other names like "pervert" and use other such lovely indecent for small children vocabulary. By this time Studmuffin, his brother, and wife were back from working cattle in the heat..

"My son does not need to hear those words. He learns enough stuff at school."

Glad for the excuse, I got up and calmly walked over to the merry go round where the inappropriate language was taking place. "Excuse me. We do not allow our children to use those words or call each other names. If you are going to talk that way you need to go back over to your group." And this statement was met by a chorus of "yes ma'ams."

I returned to my hot dog, feeling like a cranky Mrs. Wilson, yet confident that they would now straighten up and act right for fear that the mean lady would come back and correct their manners again.


I set up our croquet set where I got to teach a new generation the ins and outs of this highly sophisticated lawn game. It was my 12year old nephew, my 8 year old nephew, my cousin's 8 year old son, and my five year old niece, and myself.

The BYS and his sisters showed up to watch the action.

And started throwing mulberries at us.

"Please do not throw mulberries at us. It will stain our clothes."

"Umm, these are blackberries, not mulberries," and BYS's sister rolled her 10 year old eyes at me....

I seriously think sweat popped out on my forehead I was so annoyed with these ill mannered little wretches..."Actually, blackberries grow on a bush. Those are on a tree. And they're smaller. That means they are mulberries." And I proceeded to trounce the little kids at croquet...

Yes, I could have let them win, but where's the fun in that? Who wants a hollow victory? And, truthfully, I totally thought my oldest nephew was going to beat me, but at the last minute I had a lucky stroke and won....

I went over to get some water and celebrate my win...

My cousin Ben and his roommate approached me. "Hey, did you see that kid in the yellow shirt?"

"Yeah. He's been driving me bananas all day."

"Well, he just broke your croquet set."

"WHAT???!!!"

"He just took a mallet and swung it at the post as hard as he could, broke it off, jerked it out of the ground, and hammered it in upside down, then took off running as hard as he could."

Gentle Reader, there was nothing gentle about me at that moment. I was fur.i.OUS!! My cousins Matt & Ben got a huge kick out of it. I sat down to try and calm down for fear I'd go chew out a kid I didn't even know, and they started going into detail of exactly how he did it, got me all riled up then said, "Man, we feel like tattle tales now...But you should have seen it! It was unbelievable!"

Matt continued to laugh at me and joke about how hard I was swing my foot with one ankle crossed over my knee and such. "What's the big deal? It's just a croquet set!"

"It's the principle of it! He didn't even apologize! He's been rude all day, then he shows up and breaks our stuff and runs off! He better not come over here again, or I'm going to find his mother."

No sooner did I finally calm down, and the little BYS showed up to borrow my cousin Jaime's little girl's bike...

I jumped out of my chair and yelled "NO!!!"

Then, I took a deep breath and called him over away from everyone else...."Pretend you're Dad....Pretend you're Dad..." I mentally chanted to myself. My dad seldom lost his temper growing up. Instead he'd talk in this calm, quiet rational voice, and interrogate you and express his displeasure in your actions and by the time he was done you'd be a puddle of goo at his feet groveling for forgiveness. It was a very effective technique.

"Did you break my croquet set?" I quietly asked.

"I didn't mean to." His voice was shaky.

This was getting off to a guh-reat start..."Okay. Well, the thing is, when you come over and play with other people's stuff, and break it, it's bad manners to not come and admit it. And apologize."

"I didn't mean to." His blue eyes are like saucers in his little freckled face surrounded by a cloud of white blonde hair...

I'm starting to feel guilty that I'm totally chewing this kid out who doesn't even belong to me, I have no clue what is name is, and yes, my voice is calm,but I'm so angry I'm all quivery inside...

"Well, that's okay. Next time admit what you did and apologize..."

The relief flows over his little body. His shoulders relax. His face clears up...

"So. Can I ride the bike?" He asks in an enthusiastic little voice.

"NO! You can't ride the bike! (my voice is no longer calm, and conversational, just so ya know) It's not even my bike to give you permission to ride, but you can't ride it! Go ride your scooter."

And he ran off.

And I felt better to get all of that off of my chest.

But the little BYS still didn't apologize. And he still continued to hang out at our camp.

Clueless that he had ever done a single thing to get on my nerves.

Obviously I need to work on my dad's verbal confrontation technique.

Or, I could just stick to the redneck screaming across the neighborhood technique I've mastered over the last nine years...

The long awaited post on Memorial Day

I know. I know. You have all been wondering when I was going to tell you all about the folderol and shenanigans over Memorial Day.

Never fear, I am finally ready to tell you every gory detail.....



You'll be glad to know I'll be strong and only share a few. Like the fact that we went camping with my Mom's family, but I convinced my sister in law (married to Studmuffin's brother) to bring her kiddos over and spend the day with me too...While she helped her hubby, oldest son and Studmuffin work cattle.

Isn't my generosity overwhelming?

My brother had lots of fun. He even caught a fish! Isn't it the biggest minnow you've ever seen?

Wait! You mean it's NOT a minnow? Hmmm...I was sure he told me it was a giant minnow. I guess he is still lying to me after all of these years, and it is indeed a tiny sun perch....Liar, liar pants on fire!

Of course, the giant minnow story is way better, don't you think? And, it's possible I made the whole giant minnow thing up myself for better blogging purposes. But, don'cha think he'd have totally tried that one on me if he'd thought of it first?

This is my cousin's little boy. I adore him. He takes me back to childhood. He laughs EXACTLY like his dad, looks like him, and acts like him...I love getting to see him. And that is mulberry juice on his chin, not blood...

At one point while he was fishing, I told him he was standing in poison ivy. In flip flops...He said, "Oh, man! I've been walking through that all day."

Here's a story for your entertainment: I brought our croquet set. My cousins only ever played croquet at our house. And I always won.

They claim I cheated. I deny that claim vehemently. However, I do NOT deny that I would go out of my way to hit their ball, ESPECIALLY if they happened to get ahead, just so I could whack their ball as hard as I could completely off the course...

I don't call that cheating. I call that strategy.

We picked mulberries. There were about 4 plastic cups left over that didn't get consumed instantly...Of course not one responsible adult put them away, and after sitting in a cup for a few days, they were moldy and had to be thrown out....Dang. I had really wanted to make a cobbler.

Not enough to actually put anything away, mind you. But still. I was really looking forward to a cobbler and home made ice cream. Dadgummit.

Okay. That's all the pictures for today. Can you believe that? After all that hype, I only have the energy to upload a few pictures! Ridiculous.

However, I will type a little tale about Anita, the aforementioned sister-in-law whom I convinced to let me babysit for her while she did farm wife work...She actually had to be convinced to leave the kids with me!

For real!!!

Apparently with a pond, a blow up pool and poison ivy everywhere, she was concerned about being the mom on the news who's kids drowned because everybody thought everyone else was watching the kids. In fact there were 14 kids there at one point. However, after her concern I never let her kids out of my sight. Unless of course it was to send my nephew to fish with my dad. Or to have my mom keep an eye on my niece while I brought drinks to the fishermen...But I DID know where they were at all times.

Unfortunately that can not EVEN be said about my own kids. They were given a whistle to wear by one enterprising adult, and sent on their merry way, to be seen by me mostly at mealtimes and bed time.

But, hey! I didn't end up on the news!

That's all I have for you today. Later next week I will tell you about the little boy in the yellow shirt who will go forever down in history as the nemesis of our camping trip...

I know, you can hardly wait!