Remember that Christmas tree I was so inspired to make? Haven’t made it…and I probably never will. Now, my crane-making-origami-master has moved on to make Christmas trees. He’s making me a whole forest.

Nice, wasn’t it, that I provided him with more leftover sheet music to match the wreath? 

Now, he will “SHOW you,” how he built his origami trees:

The best part? This tree doesn’t even require a base.

Before we even had a lake house, I used to take my older boys to a creek that ran through a park near us in the city. I dressed them in their bathing suits, told them to grab their nets, and just do whatever it is they wanted to do. There was a large rock that stood in the middle of the creek, surrounded by smaller ones. At first, they tried to  “not get their feet wet” as they moved from rock to rock. Then they got quiet. At first, I thought they were bored, and ready to go home. But I waited a few more minutes, and realized they were observing and listening. Soon, they were watching bugs, beetles, and fish that had once been invisible were now visible.

When people give me that “funny” look, when I tell them I spend the entire summer at the lake, I want to encapsulate this moment for them. I feel satisfied when I see that the boys are able to entertain themselves in nature. I feel a victory each time I watch them set to work to build some kind of man-made structure to “create” something that temporarily alters nature. Nature always seems to win, and this too, has its own lessons.  I’ve learned to stand back and not interfere with their grand plans, despite all of my own grown-up wisdom, because the point, really,  is for them to experience nature for themselves, on their own terms. It’s taken some practice not to comment, and agree with them, during the initial planning stages, that yes, “this is so very important, and it will probably work.”

The tiny turtle he found fits in the palm of his tiny hand. Yet, the structure they’ve made for this little sand turtle rivals any sand tunnel the turtle could build himself. The boys are convinced that it’s their “job” to build the tunnel so that the turtle can lay her eggs.

Before I had a chance to say Hello to the turtle, the little boys instantly decided the turtle needed a ramp, so the turtle could easily get down into the water.

Within seconds, the boys hauled out scrap pieces of wood from the garage. Miraculous, isn’t it? They have this uncanny ability to carry these boards down the hill, and down the steps without dropping a single one on a toe. Funny, how the same boys are unable to carry washed and folded clean clothes upstairs to their bedroom. Or toys to the toy box.

Using sand for the base, they carved out tunnels, using whatever buckets they could find to support the ramp, and went to town, literally, building the sand ramp. It was heavy work… calling for rocks (boulders), talking in a dialect only they know between the two of them. The work was carried out in much of the same way they build their trains. The end result, when it comes to kids in nature, is always joy.

standing all along the course of the Ironman. The signs were especially thick around the parts of the mountains that were the most desolate… along highways where few spectators stood, and the racers heard nothing but silence. Not cheers.

The day before the race, a tent was set-up in the carnival-like atmosphere, with music blaring, and Gatorade passing out free bottles for everyone. The tent was filled with blank poster board and sharpies and tables. Family and friends were busy carefully choosing words and embellishing signs for their loved one. A way to pass the time with the family, I thought, in the final hours before the Ironman. Later, volunteers would post these signs, carefully made, all along the course of the race. My husband later said, when he reached the darkest point of the race, during the isolation and the heat and exhaustion, he looked up and saw our sign. Like an Oasis, it said, “Go, Daddy.”

This year, his family won’t be with him to make those signs, and this bothers me. He’s so busy training and working right now, he won’t notice here that I’m revealing his surprise… that I’m inviting some of his closest training buddies and family over to host a “sign-making” party just for him. It’s the least we can do. Once he has the signs, he can pack them in his bike case, and hand them over to the volunteers to post with the others, when he arrives.

I’ve bought the poster board, hidden the markers. I’ll be busy over the next few hours making food, setting up tables, and hanging banners.

Here you can see them lined up as flags for the racers. As you watch this video, make sure you notice that in those nervous final hours before the race, as my husband stands looking out in the Coeur D’Alene River, which he will swim the next morning… that our son lost his shoe. Leave him a message in the comments, and I’ll put it on a sign.

Invented by native North American Indians in the 15th century, it has been said that the game of Lacrosse is to be played “for the pleasure of the Creator.” Me, as the Mother, perhaps? Because, I really like this sport. This spring, I have two boys to cheer for on the field.

I’m purposely ignoring its dark place in history when the Indians played from sun up till sun down, sometimes for days as the game traveled for miles with players gravely injured or killed. Now, the goal carries much less religious and spiritual significance.

The goal? Simple: Use the stick and its attached pocket to scoop, catch, carry and pass the small rubber ball to get it in the net. Also, stop your opponent from getting the ball in the other net. Think soccer revved up with sticks. Because of those pads, Lacrosse naturally promotes “team building.”

The coach said, “I don’t care what the score is. My goal is to teach the kids to play as a team.” He even added this; “If I see a kid that is hogging the ball and is not giving it up to the rest of the players, I’ll pull him out — regardless of how many goals he’s scoring.” He looked to one parent, with a player on the HS lacrosse team for validation and said, “Isn’t that how they do it in high school?” Sadly, this parent, with all of us looking on, disagreed with the coach. Her goal is to teach her child to win. The coaches methods are still prevailing, despite her protests.

Unlike football, we have only two practices each week. And mercifully, only five games all season.

More technical information I’ve picked up: The players clamp the ball under their stick and flick it out to their middies (midfielders), who start on the wing restraining line near the sideline and sprint in when the whistle is blown to start play. Attackers and defenders cannot cross their “restraining line” until one player from the midfield takes possession of the ball.

I love this quote, which I heard in the car this morning as I was driving one boy to practice. “Sometimes I just don’t want to go to practice… but then I get there, and it’s JUST SO MUCH FUN!”

Lacrosse is laid-back action. Nice and easy, like Spring itself. Games are fast and quick… another reason to love this sport. The clock keeps ticking between goals when the ball is dead for a few seconds. Games are usually over in an hour, with scores in the tens. But still, the main reason I love this sport? These cool-looking shorts… that come with a touch of PLAID!

What’s not to love?! (There is some lacrosse action in this video here from last year.)

Today, with my husband out of town for three days, I have absolutely no desire to bundle the kids up and go sledding. Does this make me a bad Mom? It’s a balmy 45 — we may get up to 50 (that F for all you Aussies). So, today, we can enjoy what’s left of the 24 inches and play outside all day in the snow, as if we live in Colorado. This is last year’s sledding fiascoes.

When I was little, before gas prices skyrocketed, my Dad used to love to take us for a Sunday drive in the country to see one-room school houses and old abandoned cemeteries.

Our drive to the lake is 3 hours, and most of the drive has no direct route via interstates. Instead, we drive through back-country roads, past weathered barns, horses, and a loose cow. The owners of the farms, houses, trailers and stores are becoming familiar as we increase our travel to the lake, yet they still remain strangers.

I put this video together during our summer drives to the lake. (Yes, it’s a little shaky, I hope you don’t get car sick.) Here’s a chance to join us, as fellow travelers, in our noisy van with four boys, to see some of the highlights of our drive.

While posting this video on you tube, I found this beautiful video of the Farm Auction. Stick with it, after the first few seconds, the video turns into black and white stills. Each pictures tells a story… Sniff, sniff.

Average speed, 33mph

Whoops!

Wordless Wednesday

This Best Shot Monday is about the picture I didn’t take. The picture I thought I would take on Sunday; but Sunday was too late. I was fortunate enough to grab the video camera. This picture was captured as a .jpg from the video. I really thought I’d have time to get some great pictures on Sunday.

I’ve mentioned Brownie briefly before. Brownie is the class bunny that my 9-year-old son loves. During “silent reading time” my son sits by Brownie’s cage on the floor, and quietly reads to her. He grabs carrots and puts them in his backpack for Brownie. He talks about Brownie at least once a day. He tells me facts about rabbits I never knew.

He has been counting the days for his turn to take Brownie home for the weekend. As we carried Brownie out to the car, parents and students in the hallway waved to Brownie, and said, “Have fun!” In her 6.5 years, she has visited many of the families’ homes in our neighborhood. She is well-loved, and could easily pass as the school mascot. The boys were so proud to be taking her home.

The boys squealed with delight. You can see it all here in a video here and here. She looks so alive. On Saturday, when I put my 9-year-old to bed, he seemed a little gloomy. He said, “I can’t believe it’s almost Monday and I have to take Brownie back to school.” Yes, I said, but aren’t we on the schedule again in two weeks? Yes, he smiled when he remembered.

Less than an hour later, thankfully, after the kids were asleep, Brownie left us. It was very fast and quick — I can only describe it as a seizure. If I had been out of the room, I would have missed it. I would have found Brownie “asleep” and I would have went to bed. Then, my children would have tumbled down the stairs in the morning eager to play with Brownie…

Can you imagine anything worse? I’m grateful the children were asleep. I’m grateful I was with Brownie. She didn’t die alone. I called, and got the teacher out of bed; she took Brownie home so Brownie wouldn’t be here when the children woke. In true spirit, as she fought back her own tears as she said, “Well, I guess it’s time for the class to learn about the cycle of life.” As we stood talking, I felt a very cold. And then I remembered, I had just opened the door for her a few minutes before. Later, when I opened the door for her to go, I realized, it wasn’t THAT cold.

What to say….. that was a difficult one. My great friend had the perfect words. “Brownie was tired, and possibly ill, and felt comfortable and peaceful enough to die at your house. And how fortunate that she died in a home where she was loved, and not all alone in the classroom.”

Yes, we are all grateful for that. My littlest guy, keeps saying, “I just want to hold Brownie. Just one more time.” And my son, my 9-year-old, he took it hard. Today, just send him a kind word of comfort in the comments.

I didn’t want to touch that video in my camera. I haven’t finished the videos from fall 2006, and I vowed I wouldn’t start another video until I’m caught up. My son was so sad; and I thought here is the motivation I need to get one video done. If I don’t do this now, I will never have the desire to watch this video again, and it will sit on the tape unwatched, forever. I’m not going to procrastinate, like I did with the photos; I’m going to pull this video out of my camera, edit this and have this one tribute of Brownie for my son. Just comments of comfort for him.

This is a follow up to the fleeting pet story. Just as we were leaving the lake, and I was busy packing the car, the boys found a toad. He was bigger than frog, and he was a huge hit. But, it was time to go, so I told the boys to say goodbye to toad, and we would be back in couple of weeks to see him again.

I reached in the back to buckle up my littlest guy, and there he was, with toad in his lap. No, no, sweets, we can’t take toad him with us for the 3 hour trip home. (I’m picturing him, jumping around the car, while I maneuver my way through traffic, and I am the only legally-aged person out of the five of us able to drive.)  Let’s leave him here, and he’ll be here when we come back.

After a few more propositions, he reluctantly got out of the car, and put toad back. On the sidewalk, on his back. My son figured, in a position like that, toad wouldn’t be able to easily get away, and yes, he would be “right there” when we came back. Luckily for toad, he flipped over and got him self righted.

The best part? He starts preschool today, and there’s a pet toad in his room.
If you haven’t seen the 2 minute pet videos from the lake, here are the links. Part 1 and Part II.

My boys couldn’t wait to fish. They couldn’t wait to catch the big one. And when they did catch one, they threw him back; but not before feeding him the rest of their bait.

And, I was grateful, during my 5-week stint at the lake, without a TV, that mother nature kept the boys amply supplied with quite a few diversions.  We haven’t had a pet since Max left us.

There were the fish, the turtles, toads, and there was this one frog.

They found him right after the one-ton load of sand came in. So, they began building him a house. This is his playroom. He had tunnels and moats. When the boys swam out to the trampoline, he came along for the ride, on top of their head.

He had plenty of chances to get away, but he never took one. We went up to eat dinner, and came back, to find him still there, basking in the sand. I typically don’t like these kinds of creatures, but this one had a heart. And he had the heart of my boys. So, I was warming up to frog.

That night, we got a terrible storm. The rain poured hard. I worried about the frog. I thought about his house, and the rain crashing the walls of his home down, and how would he get out?

I almost ran outside to help him. But then, I remembered the skunk, and thought better of it. But it didn’t stop me from stay up that night and worrying. The next morning, the rain had cleared. The frog was gone. I’m sure he was fine.

I made a 2-minute video of all the pets, it’s in two parts. For some reason, You Tube wouldn’t take the entire chunk, so I had to split it. Part I, and Part II. A boy and his creatures — this is definitely love at its finest.