Susiej

A flurry of little moths was fluttering around my closet as I tried to pack up and stall before finally leaving for the lake. Were cedar chips enough? I did a quick, actually an extensive, search on the Internet to find out for sure. In addition to cedar, lavender was also recommended. One recipe described how to make your own mothballs, by simply putting a few drops of lavender oil on cotton balls.

My lavender was ready for cutting, so I scooped out the harvest from the garden. Then, I bought a bunch of those little cedar chip muslin bags from the grocery store, and tied the stems around the bag. Then, I packed a few to take to the lake.

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the doctor starts talking about duct tape and freezer bags. Let me explain. My son did need stitches after all. We realized this the next morning, after a good night’s sleep, after all the excitement from our lake adventure. On the drive to the Urgent Care, and during the two-hour wait, I told my son in no uncertain terms that “he could not go into the lake whether he got stitches or not, until his leg healed. “You can get all kinds of nasty infections — like gangrene. So, don’t even bother to bring it up,” I said. “The doctor will just smile, and pat your head if you do.”

When we finally did see the doctor, we had, unfortunately, missed our “stitches” window, as his body was already starting to do its healing work. I won’t go into the gory details, because it’s just not something I can write about without fainting myself. Oh, and by the way, during the adventure, my son kept asking me to take a look at his cut, and I calmly looked him straight in the eye, without looking down at the blood, and said, “I’m the only adult here, and I have four boys to take care of, and we are out in the lake. If I faint, there’s no one to take over for me. So, in the interest of everyone’s safety, I’m not looking at your cut.” That seemed to work.

While the doctor went to work, with her assistant, cutting bandaids into steri-strips, forming criss crosses over his leg, we talked about Michael Jackson, and poor Farrah Fawcett, and in my doctor’s opinion, how Farrah Fawcett got ripped off. No one was paying any attention to her because Michael stole the show. The entire time, my son didn’t flinch, jump or scream, while she adjusted the skin around his leg.

As she finished up, the doctor wrote the perscription for his antibiotic. Because this cut happened in the lake, you must take antibiotics.

Then, the doctor said, out of the blue — “Now, if you take a freezer bag, cut it open from the top and the bottom, and tape it shut with duct tape, you can go tubing.”

I will interject here that this county holds more than 101 lakes. There are marinas, skis, tubes and fireworks for sale on every block, for as far as you can see. Water, is a way of life.

So, God bless the doctor, for even mentioning the remote possibility that all was not lost for the boy. She knows this is how people think around here. You don’t even have to ask.

Back home, in my land-locked town, those words would never even be mentioned. You’d have instructions to stay at least 100 feet from the water for the next month.

“What’s the worse thing that could happen if he gets it wet?” she said. “He’s on antibiotics anyway, and the cut is going to heal, regardless of what happens, so he might as well have some fun. I mean, it’s not like he’s going to be a knee model or anything.”

I gave him a 1 day grace; and then, we pulled out the duct tape, and took him tubing in the lake.

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Filed under: Laugh, Life, boy by SusieJ - 2 Comments →

The weather was a bit ominous. The 92-degree heat that sweltered the last four days was starting to swirl around, and kick up a storm. Under the over cast sky, the clock read 5:10, still plenty of time to go tubing before the lake’s 6:30 cut off time.

The boys were game, and dragged me away from the garden to drive the boat. The lake was deserted, save for a few swimmers along the bank, leaving clear waterways for me to cut the boat through the water. I actually relaxed; no, I was enjoying the ride. This was a nice change. The window blowing, the hood from my baby blue Anthropologie cardigan flapping in the wind behind me, with my two little boys, beside me as the side-kick spotters.

I took the corners nice and wide, then cut in just enough to give the boys a tussle behind the boat. I threw them a couple of times, and then, they threw themselves when they tried to jump over each other.

My husband was at that moment making his 3-hour trek to the lake, and would arrive around 7:30. Already, I envisioned pulling some basil and garlic from the garden, and whipping up spaghetti Bolognese as a homecoming meal.

So, after about 40 minutes, I cut the engine and said, “Let’s go in. I have a meal to make.” I got a little kick-back… a bit of whining, about “Please, let’s go one more time.” So, I gave in, and took them around, one more time.

Halfway around the first curve, I threw one of them off the tube. Unintentional, I swear.
He actually said, “That was AWESOME.” Proof is in the pudding.

Because I dreading parking the boat, I always ask the boys to come into the boat so they can grab the poles and the dock, as I bang them coming in.

“All ready?!” I said. “Everyone sit down.” I hit the blower, turned the ignition, and nothing. I tried again. Nothing. The boys were so rowdy and being so goofy they didn’t even hear me, “Something is wrong.”

We waited a few minutes. Nothing. Fortunately, I had my cell phone in the boat, so I could see when it was close to 6:30, the lake’s quiet time. I called my husband, who was now about 90 minutes away. He talked technical about the alternator not charging the battery, and said, “Flag down a boat so they can tow you in.”

There happened to be a boat coming by…so we waved our arms. They waved back and smiled.

“They’ll get us next time,” I said. Except, the boat decided to park on the other side of the lake. I propped my feet up as the passengers began to dive in and swim.

As we waited, my mind started to search through alternatives. The boys could swim to shore, get the fishing boat, and tow the ski boat in. There were people swimming along the shore, people that would have loved to help. But this was a minor problem, I thought. We could get out of this mess ourselves.

As the wind blew, we began to drift closer to shore, on the far end of the lake, far away from our cottage. But, this made us close enough for the boys to be able to swim to shore to get home. So, I sent the two older ones overboard to get the fishing boat. Except, they all jumped shipped. Everyone one of them.

I should have seen that one coming… we were down by the Lilly pads, where the frogs and turtles live. No sooner had I formed the thought that I heard, “Look at this big turtle I caught! Take a picture!”

Next, there was a thud, and my oldest son started moaning. He wasn’t kidding… his moan was growing more intense. I watched nervously, as he climbed out of the water. “OK. He’s walking… that’s good,” I thought.

“I cut my leg on that metal sign,” he hollered. “I think I need stitches.” Undaunted, he kept running back home, and as he left, I yelled, “Apply pressure… get ice!”

This was bad news for our situation. My strongest boy would not be able to jump into the water and pull the boat. At this point, hindsight tells me, I should have instructed the boys to get help right there and then, but they took off before I could think, and I still believed we could do this. After all, we read Nancy Drew.

As I waited for their rescue boat, the wind picked up. The storm clouds were thankfully passing, but the wind was not good. The big ski boat was drifting farther and deeper into the weeds and muck. All I could was sit and wait.

My heroes arrived in the aluminum fishing boat, and my heart swelled with joy. “I love these boys… from the bottom of my heart. And even if we have to spend the night in these weeds, I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else.”

Little did I know, we almost did.

The problem was the weeds. Soon, the fishing boat was in the weeds, as we tried to connect the two boats together with our towrope. Once there, we couldn’t turn the fishing boat motor on, as we would risk the weeds getting caught in the motor.

We had one oar between the two boats and only one life jacket. As my oldest, and strongest, could not get in the water, the second oldest jumped in and tried to pull us in, while the oldest rowed. For every five feet they rowed us out of the weeds, they would stop to “recover” and complain, “this is never going to work,” they complained.

While they were “recovering” the wind drifted us 10 feet back. This happened about 100 times straight. Row for five feet. Stop. Reover. Drift further into the weeds.

And, did I mention, they also brought the turlte with them on the rescue mission. So, while we’re busy trying to keep the ropes straight, oaring and dragging, their worried about the GD turtle! They were letting it run loose in the fishing boat, and I was just waiting it to bite my oldest, already injured son. It almost did. “Put the turtle in the landing net, or let it go.”

As the avid Nancy Drew reader I am, I knew all the right things to say. Focus on the task at hand, keep persevering, “We’re almost there… we’ve almost got it… keep rowing.” If anything, I was going to teach my boys perseverance today.

Then, the band-aid came off. The same one that my son hastily put on when he went back to the cottage to get the fishing boat. I saw the cut. It was bad. Something shifted inside of me at the site of that blood. The blood that was formed while in my belly. While I was not dressed for water play, in my Anne Taylor sundress, I peeled off my Anthropoligie cardigan, and jumped into the weeds.

Let me tell you; I was in the muck!! I mean real muck. The weeds were so thick I could stand up on them as if they were 10 feet bedspring coils all wrapped around me. I used the springs – weeds – as a launch pad for leverage to pull the boat with the towrope. Except, that I often pulled back, as much as I pulled forward. The boat was going in circles. In fact, I was actually pulling the fishing boat further back into the weeds. The boys were clearly onto this, and letting me know.

As I worked, my second son decided to chat. “Hey Mom… you know that one comedian…”

“Save your strength!,” I yelled. I have no life jacket. I could die out here. “HELP ME PULL!!!

All I’m saying is, for the strength I was exerting, it’s a good thing I’ve been working on my 30-day Wii challenge; I needed the core body strength. We were getting deeper into the weeds so quickly. Then, I left the weeds, and came across the Lilly pads. Can I just add that, the roots of Lilly pads are quite thick, and silky smooth. For a second, I thought some handsome male with shaved his legs was wrapping himself around me. I kicked and got the heck out of there. “Not right now!”

Then, my cell phone rang, and my oldest son, said, “MOM! Your phone’s ringing!! I’ll get it for you.”

“We can’t really TALK right now.” I yelled. “Just let it ring!”

He jumped into the boat and answered the phone. It was my husband.

Finally, I sent my second oldest to swim to shore to get help neighbor. When he arrived, I had just figured out that if I pushed the ski boat from behind, I could get some traction. We were doing quite well, when the muscles in my stomach and my arms were about to give out, and he grinned and said, “Are you a damsel in distress?” Yes, I said, as I climbed up onto the back of the boat, my Ann Taylor dress dripping. “Yes we are.”

And that’s exactly when I heard about Michael Jackson AND Farrah Fawcet.

He climbed into the water, and maneuvered us around out of the weeds, and tied our boat to the fishing boat. We were home free. Then, he asked me this. “Have you tried starting your boat since you got out of the weeds?”

I turned the key. The boat started right up.

By the time we got back to the cottage, my husband had arrived, with bake-your-own Donato’s Pizza in tow. We think that strategically placed bandaids will avoid the stitches for now. I started to take a shower, but as I started peeling off my dress and underwear, black muck started dripping off my drenched skin. I rinsed off in the lake, and then took a shower. As I ate, I couldn’t eat fast enough to replace the exertion that left me today. I am tired all over; and deeply in love with my boys.

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Filed under: Laugh, boy, the lake house by SusieJ - 9 Comments →

After slaving away on homework for the last ten months, I have a difficult time settling the boys down in the summertime to practice writing. Although I know that keeping those writing muscles in the hands working makes the transition so much easier come August.
The boys aren’t the type to keep journals, so the writing is always a struggle.  So, I came up with this idea.  I pasted each one of the boy’s favorite photo into a Microsoft Publisher document to create a postcard. Four postcards fit an 8.5 x 11 page. I added lines to help them keep their words straight, an address section and a place for a stamp. Multiples were printed. With the help of the school directory, they’ll be able to write snippets about their summer and send them to their friends and teachers.


If you want to try this, check with SnapFish — I think they turn photos to postcards without the hassle.

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To My Hubby,

We have been very busy these last few days. It feels like we’ve been gone for a month. Our wifi hot spots have all but disappeared around here, along with the Starbucks that closed.  Must be the economy.

It’s very hot, and after the 3 inches of rain that came down last weekend, we’ll need to water the garden again today.

The boys caught a few fish today, and they’re trying to save them for you to see. But I told them they couldn’t keep them.

They couldn’t understand why.

Oh, and by the way, add a cup of red wine in place of the water to that red lentil soup I sent home with you. Also, go out a grab a few sprigs of parsley, and thyme. The thyme will help your allergies; but only when combined with other herbs. So, don’t forget to add the parsley, and a dash of red pepper flakes.

Can’t believe it’s only Monday. Seems like years since you left yesterday. Four more days until you’re here again.

And yes, the Wii Active seems to be working.

Love,
Susie

Recipe for Red Lentil Soup:

• 2 c dry lentils
• 5 c vegetable stock and/or water
• 1 t salt
• 2 T olive oil
• ½ c onion, chopped
• 2-3 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 T soy sauce
• 1 t cumin
• 1 t paprika

Rinse the lentils thoroughly, and pick through to remove any pebbles or other detritus.

Place in pot with stock or water — or red wine and bring to a boil. Lower heat to simmer, partially cover, and cook, stirring occasionally, for 30 minutes. Add salt and continue cooking until tender – another 10 minutes or so. (Add more liquid as needed, but not too much.)

Meanwhile, heat the olive oil in the frying pan, add onion, and sauté for 5 minutes. Add garlic and soy sauce and sauté another 2 minutes.

Stir onions and remaining spices into the lentils, taste, and adjust seasoning. Serve hot.

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The boys wanted to pack these cookies before we left for the lake today, as the lunches from Tuesday have been devoured by now. These no-bake cookies are a great last-minute snacks.  Karen asked if I have posted this recipe, and I haven’t until now because it’s so common — yet this recipe is often missing from all but one cookbook in our house.  Once you know it, you know it.  So, I’m posting the no-bake cookie recipe for all of you searchers trying to find that same recipe from you elementary school cafeteria.  This is it — warm peanut buttery, chocolate goodness.

If you’re looking for a way to introduce your kids to kitchen basics, as I am, this no-bake cookie recipe is a great one to start with. The sense of accomplishment they get from creating these masterpieces is unsurpassed. However, there is some skill involved. They need to learn how to identify the difference between a simmer and a full boil, set the timer, and watch the cooking process very closely, and make good use of hot pads — all great introductory cooking skills.

If you haven’t had success with no bake cookies the reason lies in the boiling time. Start the timer for 1.5 minutes the second the pot reaches a FULL boil — simmering won’t cut it. You’ll end up with cookies that don’t set up if you start too soon. If you over-boil, you will get cookies that crumble and don’t form at all. And your child will have instant feedback on whether he missed the mark or not.

With those instructions, here is the recipe for no bake cookies:

Ingredient List

• 1 3/4 cups white sugar
• 1/2 cup milk
• 1/2 cup butter
• 4 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
• 1/2 cup crunchy peanut butter
• 3 cups quick-cooking oats
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Instructions:

1. First thing, pull out the waxed paper on the counter and have it ready.
2. Pull out the hot pads so they’re ready.
3. Figure out which kitchen timer you’re going to use, and instruct your child how to use it. Do a practice run for 1.5 minutes.
4. Set out all your ingredients, and measure them.
5. In a medium saucepan, combine sugar, milk, butter, and cocoa.
6. Bring to a full bubbling boil, and set timer for 1 1/2 minutes.
7. As soon as timer goes off, turn off heat and remove pan from heat.
8. Stir in peanut butter, oats, and vanilla.
9. Drop by teaspoonfuls onto wax paper. Let cool until hardened.

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