Susiej

Jack came home from school when he was 15 to find his mother, already gone. She committed suicide. His older sister was five years older and lived too far away to, nor cared to, help. His divorced father was an alcoholic, who lived several hours away. Jack’s new mission in life was to avoid foster care. He lied when the school called to talk to his Dad. Jack said he was at the Moose Lodge, or traveling on business. Jack succeeded in fooling the school system for several years, until he was no longer underage, and by then, nothing could be done.

Jack’s social security checks were $400 a month, but they were in his Dad’s name. When the water was shut off, Jack made a desperate attempt to forge his dad’s signature – but he got caught and never saw a cent of that money. The money Jack did have came from his paper route - $100 a week. Still, he often went to the quarry to catch a fish to cook for dinner. Then he’d stop at the grocery store to steal a couple of potatoes and a can of green beans. “I just remember feeling so grateful that the food was there… I was so hungry, and I was just so happy to be able to sit down and eat that meal.”

He dropped out of high school, and the local politicians, lawyers and the high-classed people of his town hooked him into selling drugs to them. They knew he was struggling and wanted to help him out. “They took me under their wing, and I felt like they were watching out for me.” He did well as a dealer, until “all that money” went to his head, and then he started using the drugs he was selling. Suddenly, he had no money left to pay his suppliers. He landed in jail; which probably saved his life from the suppliers who were out for his blood. In jail, he realized this wasn’t the kind of life he wanted to lead, and once out of jail, he still struggled to find a way to feed himself.

Several days had passed since his last meal, and he was so hungry. Jack found it almost impossible to overcome his pride and ask for help. Finally, he mustered up the courage to call his sister. This was his only chance; his own flesh and blood, and probably his only hope left in the world. “Will you please just send me $20 so that I can get some groceries?” She said no, saying, “he would probably just use the money to get more drugs and not groceries.”

He had been sitting at his mother’s vanity when he called his sister. Whenever he missed her, he would often go there and open her billfold, look at the pictures inside, remember a happier life when he was younger and his parents were still married, and inhale the smell of juicy fruit that permeated the inside. As he hung up the phone, he realized then that every door was closed. He reached for the familiar billfold, and out dropped a $10 bill. A $10 bill that had never been there in each of the other times he opened that billfold for comfort. “People say they find Jesus in jail,” he says. “I found Jesus the night that $10 bill fell. I took that as a sign that there was a God, and someone was looking out for me all this time.” He was amazed at how long he was able to eat off that $10 bill.

Before she died, his mom always took him to gymnastics classes. This explains why he’s able to climb trees so well, and why he’s the only person for miles who can reach those dangerous limbs that surround so many of these lake house cottages. That is why I know this story. While climbing trees and cutting limbs for us, he started to talk. At the end, tears glistened in his eyes.

I was almost relieved when I heard Jack say that he now has two sons; one who is finishing college, and another just ready to start. Jack is still thin — skinny is a better word. He has muscles, but the skin is stretched tight over his jaw and his neck, revealing muscles and veins. “To this day, I only eat unless I’m really hungry.” After he left, I cried when I imagined what Christmas Morning was like for this 15-year-old boy, who woke up to an empty house full of echoes.

On this July 4th weekend, this post is to all the unsung heroes that live among us. To those who have survived while carrying stories that are buried deep within their hearts. Stories that are sometimes too harrowing to tell. My gratitude is for God’s remarkable ability to make all things new.

Bookmark to:

Hide Sites

Filed under: Life, Tears, the lake house by SusieJ - 4 Comments →

that makes me feel as if I’ve been here before. A place so familiar that you wonder why you even pause to look at it; but then you notice your heart has relaxed and settled into a new slower rhythm, so you begin to pay attention to the spot. I felt this familiar presence from the very first time my husband drove me to his lake 8 years ago, yet it was the first time I had ever been here. Driving under these trees is kind of magical, and the life you’ve driven away from suddenly fades from your memory. Still, this is not a place you want to possess; to see everyday and have it as part of your daily life. You want this to be elusive; an escape. At this point, we’re only a couple of minutes away from the lake.

For the kids, this spot is already tucked away in their childhood repertoire of memories. When we arrive, they do the same thing each time we pull up in the driveway. They jump out of the car, run to the dock, and are usually dripping wet within a few seconds, no matter what the temperature, or how loud I say, “Don’t get wet

Bookmark to:

Hide Sites

Filed under: Life, memories, the lake house by SusieJ - 9 Comments →

I guess that explains everything.

Wordless Wednesday

Bookmark to:

Hide Sites

Filed under: boy, the lake house, wordless wednesday by SusieJ - 8 Comments →

This summer, our hill at the lake will be used in yet another ingenious way: to make ice cream for our root beer floats. I was tempted to buy the traditional ice cream maker, but there are so many choices; I quickly became overwhelmed looking at all the bells and whistles. And besides, I have all that boy power just dying to get put to use. Plus, the process of making ice cream by hand… literally…. in the can… is is a great way to introduce some lessons in science. There is the ice cream in a bag method; my boys would surely break the bag in the mixing process. So, I’ve decided to go with the ice cream in a can method.

1. The first challenge is finding the can. Many recipes suggest using a coffee can, but who buys coffee in a can anymore? A better idea is to ask for an empty paint can from the paint store. You’ll need two: A quart, and a gallon.
2. Ask your kids to tell you the freezing point of water — or teach them — 32 degrees F, or 0 Celcius. Then, ask them what happens when we put salt on icy sidewalks. Ask them to start thinking about why we need salt to make ice cream.
3. In the small, clean can, add one cup of milk or half and half, one cup of sugar, and one teaspoon of vanilla.
4. Optional: add one tablespoon of chocolate syrup — or frozen strawberries.
5. Use a hammer to seal the lid tightly.
6. In the larger can, combine the ice and rock salt. Use a thermometer to record the temperature of the rock and salt mixture.
7. Use hammer again to seal the lid tightly.
8. Take turns rolling the can down the hill, for about five minutes. This will “solidify” the ice cream.
9. Explain what’s happening: the ice melts and combines with the salt. This “brine” has a lower freezing point — lower than 32 degrees.
10. After five minutes of rolling, open the large can, and take the temperature of the ice. It will be colder than it was the first time.
11. Open the smaller can. The colder brine was able to get the milk mixture cold enough to freeze to a solid, to create ice cream.
12. You know you’re going to have to whip up another batch right now; the fun was really rolling the can down the hill.
13. An instant way to eliminate the ice cream headache is to put your tongue on the roof of your mouth. Teaching a toddler how to do this is something you won’t soon forget.

Pictures to come…
Thursday Thirteen

Bookmark to:

Hide Sites

Filed under: Thursday 13, eat, the lake house, try this by SusieJ - 26 Comments →

Wordless Wednesday

Bookmark to:

Hide Sites

Filed under: the lake house, wordless wednesday by SusieJ - 7 Comments →

This is by far the ugliest fort I’ve ever seen
But like my son says, “At least we have a fort.”

Since my oldest son began to walk as a baby, I’ve had this dream of building/growing a fort out of beans for him. Lack of sun and space has always stood in the way. Funny. Now that I have the space and the sun, he’s old enough to help me design the fort… and perhaps, he’s now too tall to stand inside.
Using whatever tall sticks, old wood and broken furniture the previous owners left behind at the lake house garage, we built the fort. This bothered my Father quite a bit. He would have preferred that I buy a $45 aluminum rose trellis, so that the fort would “look nice.” This would have given the structure the “curves” it needs to give the fort that cozy feel. Based on how ugly this fort turned out, I’m sure my Father may have been right. Yet, something about the pristine rose trellis didn’t feel right… too pristine? I felt compelled to use the materials that were readily available… it seemed more “green.” Still, my 9-year-old said it best, “At least we have a fort.”

I’m counting on the beauty of the beans to grow right around this lattice, hiding the fort’s humble beginnings, and turn this pile of mismatched lumber into a showpiece. And the beans! They’re actually called, Jack and the Beanstalk, and grow to 20 feet. I hope Mother Nature lets me see that.

With my son’s great eye for design, I let him decide where the lattice pieces should go, the size of the fort, and the general layout. After my Dad taught me the proper way to lift the sod, I quickly heeded the developing blisters in my hands and made the fort about half the size of my original intentions. Dad actually did most of the sod removal… he’s strong for a 68-year-old. I was no match for him. He took me to the hardware store and showed me the claw, which really helped to work in the peat moss we poured into the sandy soil to help it hold the water better. I spent more time working while my Dad was here than entertaining him. I feel a bit bad about that, but there was really no way around it. Truly, he does prefer to sit and talk while he’s here, which I did, but honestly, I think he was relieved when my brother offered a 3:00 round of golf.

Inspiration and a little more research into a garden book I bought along brought me the idea of using large plastic garden bags as mulch. Not only will these help keep the weeds down, but the black will hold in the heat to help the plants grow better, and hold the water in the soil. Perfect for the long absences I’ll have when I’m unable to water the plants.

Adding plastic to the soil created much more prep work than I anticipated. The first problem is that there was no trowel anywhere to be found. So, once the plastic was down, (I cut up contractor’s garbage bags), I used the claw end of a hammer to tear a hole in the garbage bag that was big enough to fit the developing seedlings through. The claw of the hammer had too much of a curve in it to dig the hole, so I tried a screwdriver – not enough of a curve. My fingers worked the best. Using my hands, I dug the sandy-peat soil for just about every plant. This seemed to take forever. While digging, I continually asked the boys to bring up rocks from the lake to hold down the plastic. Still, I felt like the Little Red Hen.

So now I’m 3 hours away from the fort, unable to water the seedlings. I’m counting on the black plastic to keep them from drying out. Farmers do this all the time… they can’t water their seedlings, and their crops turn out fine, usually. I know this fort is ugly; but hopefully, that’s temporary. I also know the lake neighbors are driving by saying, “What in the world….” But, they just don’t know the whole story, and it’s just too hard to explain. Still, I’m proud that it’s come this far.

Bookmark to:

Hide Sites

Filed under: Life, boy, the lake house, try this by SusieJ - 23 Comments →

In the winter…

and again in the summer, when it’s too cold to swim.

Bookmark to:

Hide Sites

Filed under: boy, the lake house, wordless wednesday by SusieJ - 14 Comments →

Yoga can “turn back the clock” my yoga teacher likes to say. So as I come to the end of my 45th year in this world, I look in the mirror to see what the last 12 years of my yoga practice has brought me. People tell me I look young, yet who’s to say what I would look like if I weren’t doing yoga? Who knows?

Still, I may have overlooked something. There’s another vital factor in the youthfulness scale I never realized existed until now. I’ll show you what I mean.

At the lake this past weekend, we were blasted with another 8 inches of snow. The next day, the sky was blue, no wind, and the air was a balmy 50 degrees. Nothing to do but play in the snow. It was the best “summer” day in the winter I’ve ever known… we actually got hot climbing up the hill all day.

It was tough, I admit, to wrangle one of our only four saucers from my four boys. I spent most of my time sitting at the top of the hill with my camera taking shots of them impressing me with the cool moves they made over the snow ramp they built.

I admit, they were impressive.

Finally, I scored a sled. When I hit the ramp, I pulled back, and completely on accident, I did a backwards somersault, which is what I like to call “my 360.” No, it didn’t hurt. When my boys began asking me repeatedly, “How did you do that Mom,” I began to realize I may be onto something cool.

From then on, I really had no trouble getting a sled, as they asked to see me do that “one more time.” So, I started doing “my 360″ on purpose, time and time again.

I have never been one of those “flexible talented gymnastic” types in my youth. I flunked cheerleading. But here, right before my eyes, everything just fell into place.

Now here is where you’ll just have to use your imagination a bit, as my husband was behind the camera and didn’t quite get the shot I need here. But in the picture you can’t see I am skillfully tucking my head, so that I can begin my big roll… This is where my yoga teacher’s favorite phrase, “you’re as young as your spine is flexible” really begins to resonate some truth.

No, I can’t believe I’m showing you this either. But, I’m trying to make a point… and if this doesn’t convince you to start a yoga practice now, I doubt nothing will.

You can see from these photos below, just how much I am impressing my boys… all of them.

Still, I keep rolling, and I end up again, right back where I started. Thrilling.

The kicker, and my crowning glory, was when my 12-year-old said, I can’t keep doing this, because I think I’m hurting my neck. Meanwhile, I kept rolling and tumbling down the hill.

But just between you and me, my neck was tiny bit sore the next day; a few yoga stretches took care of that. But, I was definitely the Queen of the hill that day… thanks to yoga.

Bookmark to:

Hide Sites

Filed under: Laugh, Life, Yoga, the lake house by SusieJ - 17 Comments →

Dear Mr. Mrs. R.,

I wanted to write you both to tell you how grateful we are that you were up at the lake that weekend when we drove up during the winter storm. Thanks for calling us while we were still in the car, asking us if we wanted you to turn the heat on so it would be warm when we arrived. Glad the key was easy for you to find.

The drive was treacherous, the storm came suddenly leaving spotty black ice patches across the road. When we finally pulled into the lake lane, we were nothing short of amazed to see both of you standing in our driveway with shovels in hand, snow blowing across your faces, on a path clear for driving, and the walkways already cleared up to the house. I know we said thank you at the time, with our stunned, mouths, gaping open in surprise — well I think we did — but I wanted to be sure.

Although it was no shocker to our littlest guy, we were bewildered to learn that Santa Clause knew the address to our lake house! He said, “See, I told you that Santa wouldn’t forget about us.” In his mind, the presents had been dropped off, of course, on Christmas Eve, and had been waiting for our arrival all this time. And again, how prudent of Santa to know that there was no Christmas Tree at the lake, and to provide one for us.

Your dinner was fantastic. I think it has been several years since I was able to sit down and enjoy my meal while someone else kept my boys entertained… and actually get them to eat!

And Mr. R., this part is for Mrs. R.: Sometimes, a girl who spends so much time with 5 men, needs someone to talk with just for the sake of talking. I love sitting with you at your kitchen bar, decorated in vintage Coke memorabilia, while you tell me how it used to be at the lake. I’m grateful to have someone to tell my stories to about what the boys said or did, and thank you for laughing at the parts of the stories that seem so overwhelming to me. Your giggles have a way of changing my perception.

And Mr. R, you amaze us, especially the boys, at how well you keep that pot belly stove going, and create so much heat in the cabin all day.

That weekend, thanks to your big touches, was one of the most remarkable winter weekends we’ve had in a long time. I can’t wait to see you again this summer. Let us know when the “garage sale” weekend is, as we have a rubber raft we’d like to relinquish to a new owner. And yes, we’ll have some of your home made ice cream too, after we’ve hit the blueberry patch.

Thanks again,

SusieJ

Bookmark to:

Hide Sites

Filed under: Life, holidays, the lake house by SusieJ - 7 Comments →

at the lake…

This is a photo of the steam coming off the lake, from the warmer water beneath the ice as it hits the zero degree air above. Cold.

Also, I’m giving away a copy of Mark Ukra’s new book, The Ultimate Tea Diet: How Tea Can Boost Your Metabolism, Shrink Your Appetite, and Kick-Start Remarkable Weight Loss, from the Parent Bloggers Network. To find out all the details, click, here.

Bookmark to:

Hide Sites

Filed under: Life, best shot, reviews, the lake house by SusieJ - 29 Comments →

When