Cavemen

My husband knows what boys like. In the years we've been married, he's introduced them to camping, fishing, the Three Stooges, brush-pile fires, and building things.


But you know the very favorite thing for a small boy? Give them a tool of destruction and tell them to TEAR SOMETHING APART.

Oh, the fun. The boys were given the chance to dismantle the bird seed box, the lovely box Marty built for me a few years ago, which we have used and enjoyed, but which has been destroyed by the bear. Sadly, it was time to take the chewed up box and send it to the dump.





And that is what we did. But first Marty invited the boys to just tear it to shreds. And boy, did they have a field day. They slammed, they hammered, they ripped, they kicked the legs off, they went at with both barrels and deep concentration. They reminded me of small cavemen, hard at work.


When they were finished, they gathered up the remains and tossed them in the truck bed. Reluctantly, because really they wanted to keep going until there was nothing but sawdust left.

Benny kept saying, "that was so fun." Five minutes later he would say, "that was so fun." And five minutes after that, "that was so fun."


It was so fun, in fact, he hurried to put it on his blog. So he beat me to the punch.

They were so proud of themselves, and rightfully so. Though Marty and I were sad to see the box go, the boys did a great job tearing it to shreds!

Domino Man

A logical way to kill time after school. Have your brother lay down on the floor and outline him in dominoes! When you are done, you have THIS:

They call it "Road Kill Man," but I call it "Domino Man," because it sounds nicer. There was a lot of fuss and talk about Domino Man, and a great deal of concern Marty would come home and either not see it immediately, or see it and clean it up! Horrors! I consoled everyone by taking a photo so Domino Man could live forever in our hearts.

At the last minute Benny wanted his picture taken within Domino Man, as well.

We then packed up and headed out to the first soccer games of the year. Anticipation was high and spirits were soaring. Then it began pouring rain on the way over, or as they say in these parts, "It began fallin' a flood." I got a text message that all games were cancelled. What disappointed boys. I took them through the Dairy Queen drive-thru in an attempt to cheer them up, and it seemed to have worked. (Naturally the drive was rife with questions: "Why is that man in front of us taking so long to order? What do you suppose he got? What do you think his BILL was?")

Sam kept on with hoping about soccer, though: "Can't we just drive over and make sure?" (we did.) "But it's only a LITTLE rain. Why would they cancel? I don't mind playing in the rain. Can we sit and wait? Maybe it will clear up. Maybe we can have a practice."

He finally had to admit defeat at the sight of rain and puddles and an empty field, poor guy. But they ate their DQ, came home and played....and inexplicably, the precious Domino Man became old news that was swept up and put aside so the dominoes can be used for something else!

Pics from 2004

TOO COOL FOR YOU.

No autographs, please.

Could you say "no" to this face?

You know you couldn't.

Okay, so these are old photos, but how cute are they? And it's been a sloooowwww week, nothing much to blog about. We've had nonstop rain and no soccer practice, but we're back on track now.

A couple of nights ago when we were cooped up, I made a scavenger hunt for both boys. It was a ploy to get them to run up and down the stairs several times, I admit it, but it was fun, too. And we got some much needed exercise. Yes, I say "we," because Benny made ME one, too. And I had to run up and down the stairs as well! The boys each found a dollar bill at the end of their scavenger hunt. Know what Benny made for my reward? He took some money from his piggy bank and built a little 'safe' out of Legos. He put the money in the Lego safe and then built it shut. So when I found the safe I had to 'open' it. It was a lot of fun.

The money all went into our "someday" jar, a jar we are filling with money so that "someday" we can go on a fun and expensive trip.

Sam has worked on some wonderful stories this week. Like his mom, he doesn't usually finish them....but wow, are they great. Listen to this one:

"This is Jack. He has really BIG HANDS. (illustration.) Jack worked in a car wash. (illustration.) But what he really wanted to do was be a boxer."

The story goes on: Jack becomes a boxer and guess what? Those BIG HANDS come in mighty handy in the boxing ring!

Also we had an interesting conversation yesterday....Sam was talking about what he wants to be when he grows up. He said maybe an inventor. Or a designer. Or a chef! I said if he owned his own resteraunt, he could design the place, invent his own recipes, and be a chef, too!

He said, "I don't want to own a business. I just want to work for someone else." Then he went on to add that he had the criteria for his ideal job figured out: "I want to just do the work each day, not own the business and have to do all that. And I want a job where I don't have to talk much or (interact with people) much. And I want to get paid a lot. Yeah. I want to make a lot of money but not really do a lot of work. What kind of job would that be?"

He asked in all seriousness. Naturally the punch lines flew out at me but I kept it respectful. I just pointed out that he could be a writer and illustrator, since he is so good at it, and in time he might come to make a lot of money that way.

Then we arrived at soccer practice and all was forgotten. Maybe he should be a professional athelete!

The Bear Is Back!

Yep, he has returned. Last night about ten pm I heard the unmistakeable sounds of the garbage cans being turned over and bear-handled. I went outside and saw the ghostly white shape of the garbage bag bobbing away across the driveway, seemingly by itself. The bear is so black he blended into the shadows to where I could not actually see him; only the garbage bag moving around. But we listened to him tearing it open and scattering trash all over the yard.

So.....back to taking our trash to the dump each day. Fun!

PS: That's not an actual photo of our bear! Just a stock photo of a stock bear, lest we forget the nature of the beast we are dealing with. Plus who wants a blog entry without a photo?

Lunch With Mom

Yesterday I went to Roswell with Mom. She's been working hard, along with members of her Magnolia Sampler Guild, to put on their show. It's a lovely and large display of pieces, most of them samplers, of all kinds. Mom had several beautiful items on display. And there were samplers there over two hundred years old, which is pretty amazing.

The display was held at Bulloch Hall, which is the childhood home of Mittie Bulloch, Theodore Roosevelt's mother. The home was built in 1839 and is a museum now.

Afterwards it was lunch at "Relish," a good place for fun Southern food and a few healthy things, too. We were quite modest and stuck to salads, though we did indulge in some Sweet Potato Fries! Other menu items of southern note: Grits and shrimp, sour cream cornbread, black-eyed peas, spiced pecans, and fried green tomatoes! Yum!

A Good Weekend

Yesterday we finished photoshopping the football pictures, then went and photographed a horse show. It was fun. Marty and I remarked afterwards that while the show was light and we perhaps would not make any money from it, we were still very glad to have gone. We both enjoy photographing horse shows, and the 4-H crowd was so friendly and so easy to work with. And it's so easy, in some ways, to get great looking photos when you have beautiful animals and energetic kids and just a little dirt flying in the air for dramatic effect.

And how proud am I to hear the people around me commenting on what great photos my husband takes? (Yes, I take a few too, but Marty takes most of them.)

Then this morning we took a long drive through the countryside. Saw some Black-Eyed Susans....

And old abandoned overgrown barns.

It's a pretty day and the barest hint of fall is in the air.

Friday Night

Today the boys and I dragged out the Fall/Halloween box, and decorated. As always, the fireplace is the centerpiece, the crown jewel of the whole house. Benny was tall enough this year to put the cat on the mantle by himself. And he was delighted, as he is every year, to find the tin pumpkin man and set him out in his usual spot.

A few years ago Mom gave me a kit to make this pillow, and for the boys it's become a thrill to carefully take out Mommy's hand-made "Boo Pillow" and place it on the sofa. (It's even more fun to lie on it.)

Then the boys went to visit their dad for the weekend, and Marty and I went to the high school football game to shoot pictures. There's something about a game, isn't there? High School football is SO BIG in Georgia. The whole town turns out. And this year the Bobcats are a good team, so excitement runs high.

The splendid and much cheered crash through the Bobcat banner...........

The glittering instruments and feathery costumes of the marching band.........

And in a pre-game ceremony, a tribute and memorial for September 11th.

In town, the flags were all at half-mast today. The Boy Scouts held a walk of memory by the river at the park. I found myself thinking about it all afternoon.

We never know how many days we have. I may not always say it often enough, but I love my family and friends. And I want them to know that. And I feel lucky for every day I have with them.

Minutes and Moments

How do you know you're a soccer player? When ninety minutes of running up and down the field like crazy is not enough. That was Sam tonight. Practice finally ended but a few kids stuck around to kick the soccer ball a bit more. Sam wanted to stay, too. He said, "We've only been here an hour and a half!" I was more then ready to go and sort of fished over to Benny with a, "I think it's time to go. Don't you?" And Benny, who had struck up a sideline game with two other bored siblings and their dad, said, "What? No! I'm in the middle of a game!"


So everybody got an extra fifteen minutes.

Driving home, as often happens, the boys regaled me with peppered conversation.



Sam: I think next time I go to Burger King, I'll get the Steakburger.

Benny: Mommy. Today at recess, I played this game with my friend. And I kicked the ball at him five times and then he kicked it at me and I was like WOOSH and then I jumped over it. But I had to go to jail anyway.


Sam: Do you think the Whopper Junior is good?

Mom: Jail? What is jail?

Benny: We'll talk about jail later. Right now I need to tell you other things.

Sam: You know what I don't understand? Why food on commercials always looks so good. But when you actually go get it, it's not that great looking.

Benny: Mommy, do you know how we won the war with England?

Sam: I know. Yorktown.


Benny: But HOW did we win.


Mommy: Um. Well, we......


Benny: The thing is, we DIDN'T win. They SURRENDERED.


Sam: I want one of those burgers that has bacon on it next time.


Benny: When we get home, I need you to look up Florida for me. I have to make a map of it to go with my collection.

Sam: Do you like bacon? I do.




And on and on it went, until my head was whirling. When we got home, Benny began making a map of Florida. They must be studying it in school. Because last night, without saying a word to anyone, he sat and drew this map of Georgia:

So tonight we looked up Florida Geography, and it got late and Mommy got grouchy, but in time, it was all settled and the Florida map was sketched as well.

Later at betime, he brought up a dog he had that died of old age. I said I was sure she was in heaven now, having a great life. He said, "Didn't she have that with us?" I said yes, but heaven is a pretty special place so her life is pretty great right now, it was wonderful with you and it's wonderful now. Benny asked, "When you go to heaven, how long do you stay there?"

I said, "forever?" He shrugged as though he didn't know, but wanted to.

We talked about "forever." Mind-boggling.

Sam showed me a story he had begun writing an illustrating. It was wonderful, as all his stories are. He's gotten into writing stories at night before bedtime, and they are so fun.

Then Benny massaged my hand and said with pity, "You do everything in the house, Mommy. All the work. I feel sorry for you."

Awww.

I wish all the days and moments could be good ones in which I never lose my patience and the boys never argue and things are always great. Doesn't happen. But still. Life is good.

Then there was final tuck ins and cups of water and "good-nights," a hundred times over, and all the attempts to draw it out a little longer.

Such an odd handful of moments, but this is what makes our days. This is what makes our memories. Moments.

The Thoughts Of Benny

Yesterday was soccer practice for Sam. Benny and I went, watched a few minutes, and then began our usual practice of wandering the park, killing time.

I had brought along the camera, and Benny wanted to know why, why, WHY did I have the camera? Because with Benny it's all about knowing. And understanding. And learning. He's not trying to be nosey...he just has this need to know things. All things. And since I was only distractedly mumbling some vague answer about the camera, he was forced to draw his own conclusions, which were: Surely the camera was there to take a picture of him balancing on a soccer ball.

And I can assure you there was just a BIT of directing of the taking of the photo as well.



So we began walking and Benny told me many things he felt I should know. The first was delivered in the tone of voice you use to tell someone something terribly grave they may need to sit down for: "Mommy. Did you know that someday our house will be buried in mud?"

I said, "Really. How come?" He said, as though it were obvious, "Well. Think about the DINOSAURS. How did they come to be buried the way they are? It's because of time. In time, the earth just....." And on and on he went, describing in his own way, the mericiless forces of time and elements.

As if to cheer me up he directed my attention to kinder things, telling me what he's been learning in school lately. Benny has always been extremely diligent about my education. I remember when he took it upon himself to teach me about the solar system, for example. And rocks. And spiders. He loves to pass on knowledge, and he loves to ask me questions to see if I'm listening. "Do you know what that kind of cloud is called?" "Did you know when you look at black, you are looking at every color, all at once?" I never know what he's going to bring up next.

Of great fascination to him at the park is the newly constructed metal bridge. Every time we wander across it, he wonders. He wonders how long it took to build it. How many men were used. How much it cost. And why on earth did they leave behind this marvelous tool? (Said as he picked up a forgotten screw/drill thingie.)

He asked to take my picture on the bridge, and told me where to stand:













Then I took his.

Later I mentioned and showed my blog to him. And immediately, he wanted one of his own.

So now he's hard at work on his very own blog. He's starting with a subject near and dear to his heart: A trip to DC Gram and Grandad took him on this past summer. We set up his blog, posted a handful of photos, and he is diligently typing like mad to describe the whole trip, place by place. I have no doubts he'll finish. And when he does, I can't wait to read the thoughts of Benny!

A Bear Under The Porch

The last couple of weeks around here have been all about The Bear.

It all started a while back, when one of the kids left a bag of trash, inside a plastic trash can, on the back porch. "Something" carried it off, mauled it, and left large teeth marks all over the can. Marty thought it was a bear. I was quick to agree, because Marty knows his animal signs, and because black bears are somewhat common out here.

Several days later I was getting ready for bed. All was quiet, and just as I was climbing into bed, I heard the unmistakable crash of our metal trash cans (which are under the porch) crashing over.

I knew it was the bear, and my heart stopped. Imagine? You're in your nightie, the kids are tucked in, and you know without a doubt there's a bear under your porch?

I fetched Marty, who was just about to have a shower. To his credit, he did not get wide-eyed and alarmed like his wife. We went to the front door, opened it, and listened. Silence. We clapped our hands and made some noise, and listened. Total silence. Then we crept to the edge of the porch and peered into the depths of darkness.

There was the black and shaggy form of a bear, very slowly and leisurely shuffling out from under the porch. He didn't make a sound. He paused in the driveway as we stared. Because of the deep shadows cast by the porch light, I could only see his hind end. But make no mistake, it was a bear.

The next few nights he returned (leaving muddy paw prints) to investigate the garbage again, and to tear down our very tall deer feeder, which apparantely had a few cups of corn left in it. In a panic, we called the DNR, but they were no help. I began taking the garbage to the dump every day. We took down the hummingbird feeder. Then came the matter of the birdseed box.

It's a lovely large chest Marty built to store our birdseeds in. We knew the bear would come up on the porch after it. Rather than have that happen, we carried it off to the woods (we did not want to store it in the house) and left it there, like an offering to the Gods.

And he found it. He couldn't figure out how to open it at first, so he did this:

Because if you can't open it, then bite a hole in it, right? Then he figured out how to open it, and he did., pulling open the top and leaning his weight on it, nearly warping it off the hinges. We saw the evidence the next morning as we filed out to the car to go to the bus stop. And I worried.

But since that night? No more signs of The Bear. We believe he's moved on.

Bears are common around here, and everyone I've mentioned this to is totally unimpressed. But for me? A Big Deal, one to get both excited and nervous about.

We now need to dispose of our torn up bird seed box. But we have yet to get around to it, so in the meantime? The squirrels are having a field day with the leftover seeds!