Grandpa John

John's grandpa, known as Grandpa John by almost everyone, passed away early this morning at about 1:30. I don't think it's hit me yet. He was 93 1/2 so we all knew this was coming sooner rather than later, but it still isn't easy to think that he won't be waiting for us to come and ride our snowmobiles, or cut his grass, or give him a haircut, or just to visit.
Grandpa John loved company, and was fortunate to live in his house until just this past week. We made countless trips to see him, usually arriving after dark...sometimes as late as 11:00 p.m. But Grandpa John was always waiting up for us. He'd slowly make his way to the door, calling "Coming!" all the while. The yardlights would flip on and he'd open the door saying, "Come in! Come in! You might as well take the bedroom. Put your stuff back there and open the vent." We'd unload our vehicle and invade Grandpa's house for the weekend. He never failed to ask if we'd eaten yet, no matter what time we got there. And then he'd hardly wait for the answer before saying, "I got lots of food...some of them good Totino's pizzas in the freezer or stagger-stack cheese. Want some stagger-stack cheese? Help yourself."
In the morning he'd be sure to let me know that if I couldn't find something, to just ask because he probably had it. "I know where everything is here. All you got to do is ask. I got everything here at the farm." 'Everything' consisted of stale cereal, sour milk, rancid butter, canned pears and baked beans, and all the sandwich cookies you could eat. Sometimes he even had donuts...he lived on junk food, coffee and tobacco.
Deer hunting was always an entertaining occasion. Grandpa loved to sit out in his yard and listen for gunshots. He always knew from which parcel of land they were coming and would take careful note of the number he heard. When the guys returned for a snack and cup of hot coffee, Grandpa John would grill them, asking who shot? Did you hit it? Why not? What's the matter with you?
Grandpa liked to keep himself busy. In the winter he faithfully kept his sidewalk shoveled. His grass was always mowed. The pinecones were always picked up. When he couldn't bend over anymore, he did most of these chores on his knees.
For years he had two huge gardens. He didn't eat the produce though, claiming it was rabbit food. He just liked growing it and giving it away.
Grandpa's mind was sharp, even in his last days. He remembered numbers from year to year, to the penny. He could tell you that his property tax last year was $847.39, and this year it's $921.46 or somesuch thing. He couldn't read small print so his neighbor Peggy (or whoever happened to be visiting for the weekend) opened his mail and helped him pay his bills. Grandpa just filed all the information away in his mind. He was like a computer.
He was a generous, hospitable, sweet, honest, loud, sometimes foul-mouthed man. He was an original. He will be sorely missed.

Clayton-isms

To Joel, "How 'bout if I drink too much beer now?" and then proceeded to gulp from his fist.
John and I looked at each other in total confusion, because we have no idea how he even knows what beer is. Later we asked Joel what they were playing: "Oh, police," he casually replied. Where are my kids getting this education?
"Can I have Spam for cereal?" I think that by this he meant could he have Spam in place of cereal for their bedtime snack. (The boys have their dad's taste for cold greasy processed meat.)
"Dad, do they have a piano at the cabin? Because I REALLY like pianos." This was said totally out of the blue, with a huge wistful sigh. If you saw these cabins it would be even more funny because they are the next thing to "roughing it."
"I beat you at the cabin!" Shouted over his shoulder at John, Rebecca, and Joel and then he took off running but it was really more of a gallop because he was trying to hold the back of his pants up with one hand or risk losing them.

Our weekend

Being married to a man without a plan means that sometimes our weekend evolves suddenly. Sometimes that's good, sometimes it's not. This weekend happened to be one of the good ones. The company John works for has a private resort on a lake and employees can sign up for a week or a weekend. Then it's a lottery-type thing...you get it or you don't. John didn't get the weekend he asked for this summer but he's always on the lookout for cancellations. This weekend there happened to be one so Friday morning we made quick plans to leave Friday afternoon. (Luckily, I'm flexible!)
I spent most of Friday at the doctor, first with Joel and later on with Rebecca. Between appointments I did as much packing as I could, plus four loads of laundry so we'd have something to wear while we were gone. Plus washed our sheets, since Clayton wet in our bed Friday morning. Imagine rolling over with a yawn and a stretch, only to realize you're now lying in a fragrant puddle. What a way to start the day...
For two nights away, three kids and two adults end up bringing almost all their worldly possessions. We had a huge cooler, three large grocery bags, two suitcases, two duffel bags, miscellaneous shoes, five fishing poles, three life jackets (more are provided at the cabin), two tackle boxes, a camera, a novel (that was for me), an overnight bag, a backpack, two pillows (Joel forgot his), two blankies (Rebecca doesn't bring one) and sundry other items. The trunk almost wouldn't shut, but once I put my bulging muscles to work it wasn't a problem.
We left the house at 4:45 p.m. First stop, 4:50 p.m. at Gander Mountain for worms. Only John went in, so the kids and I got to sit for 15 minutes while John got the worms and visited with old neighbors.
At 5:36 Rebecca said, "Are we almost there?"
At 8:49 p.m. our headlights finally swept over our cabin. The entire trip, which John insisted would only take 2 1/2 hours, tops, was uneventful. Except for that one time when I yelled so loudly at the kids that John almost ran a stop sign. Oh, and then there was that other time when John thought we were lost because of my poor navigational skills, but really we weren't lost because I'm actually an excellent navigator but he doesn't know it. That made me crabby, but only for a minute because I'm really good at getting over things like that.
Okay, really I'm not but I'm working on it. It wasn't my fault that the map wasn't clearly labeled and what the map called Hwy 3 was really called Hwy 1 in real life.
So there.
Anyway, once I got over the sting of being called a lousy navigator, the rest of the weekend went smoothly. Saturday I got up before the sun because I wanted some sunrise pictures. Joel isn't one to let a morning slip by while he sleeps, and came outside with me. Rebecca was awake too, and I'm not sure why because normally she sleeps like a rock. Clayton and John slept in. When I got back to the cabin John was making Spam (ugh, greasy...Sorry Dear, it's not my favorite) and eggs and coffee. I did the dishes and then we all went out in the boat and "fished," ie Mom ducked while three inexperienced casters tried to get their hooks more than 4 feet from the boat. John was the official bait putter-onner. He was a busy guy.
Back at the cabin, I made lunch. John and the kids went for a pedal-boat ride. The kids fished off the dock for awhile.
We all went for a walk down the road, then John went back to get the car and we went into town. Small towns are funny--everyone there stared at us and one little girl at the gas station asked her mom, "Who are those people?" We let the kids play at a playground, and then stopped at the local grocery store because John had a craving for ice cream.
Back at the cabin, we had supper and then John and the kids went out in the boat to try their luck fishing again. I stayed on shore and got some sunset/lake/reflections/dock pictures.
Bedtime was tricky because the kids didn't want the fun to stop. We finally got them settled in and then I snuggled in to read my novel.
Sunday morning John and I got up at 6:30, showered, fed the boys (Rebecca slept in), packed, washed dishes, tidied up the cabin, shoved all our wordly possessions back into the trunk, woke up Rebecca and lit a fire under her to get her going, and left at 8:02 a.m. Drove 100 miles to meeting (listened to kids alternately laugh together or scream at each other, went nuts, pulled my hair out, tried not to get grumpy), and then spent the rest of the day with John's grandpa. Got home last night at 9:30 p.m.
Life with my man without a plan is never dull.

Ten Things I Could Do Without

1. Squabbling siblings
2. Whining children (guess what our weekend was like)
3. Migraine headaches
4. Worthless computers
5. Pee-soaked sheets
6. The laundry that goes with #5
7. My inflamed taste bud...one on the tip of my tongue
8. Joel's food allergies
9. Rebecca's bladder infections...I think we're on #18 or so now
10. $200 grocery bills, enough food for only a week
11. Bottomless pits masquerading as children, eating all the groceries

Sorry. I got carried away.

The fun I've been having (for real)

Has it really been a week and three days since I last posted to my blog? How time flies. I must have been having fun.
Actually, now that I think of it, I have been having fun! Lots of fun. Here's the deal:
On the first day of school I made sure to charge all the little AA batteries that my little point-and-shoot camera needs to function. I inserted said batteries, double checked that positives and negatives were correctly placed, and carefully closed the little flimsy door. I turned on my poor camera and heard the strangest sounds--things I never knew a Canon A95 was able to utter. It must have been moaning in pain. At one point it even sounded like a hummingbird was trapped inside. That was interesting.
So, back to my point (sometimes I do have one)...I wanted to take a first-day-of-school picture of the kids--Joel was off to Kindergarten and Rebecca was starting third grade. Lo and behold, my camera chose that particular day to fizzle out. Luckily, my husband is always prepared and had an old Canon Owl from the Dark Ages...and it had film (what's that, you say? Do a Google Search) and batteries! I quickly walked myself through a refresher course: Using a Film Camera, and ran out to snap a few pictures. They are not developed yet. They probably won't be developed until 2018. Then we'll look at the pictures and say, "Aw look! There's Joel when he started Kindergarten!"
For an entire TWO weeks, I had no camera. John teased me, wondering how I could even breathe. It was tough, but I did it.
Last Friday I went to a day of convention with three lovely ladies. John took a sick day because he was nursing a horrible cold. When I got home, there was a huge bag sitting on our bed...it was a new camera, and it was exactly what I've been drooling over for months--a Nikon D80. One sister-in-law said I'm a spoiled baby. I would have to agree that John spoils me.
So now you know what I've been doing. I've been trying to learn all I can about the camera, experimenting on my children. Yesterday I tried getting a picture of all three of them and was reminded of how difficult that can be. Joel got upset about something and moped off to the side while Rebecca and Clayton smiled big happy grins. I bribed Joel into continuing to let me take pictures ("I'll give you a dollar..." To which he replied, "A dollar and a quarter." He drives a hard bargain.) and then Clayton disappeared. I told Clayton to please come back and Rebecca ran off to get him, which made Clayton run faster...away from me. When I finally had them all grouped together again, they kept inching closer to me for some reason until all I could see in the lens was big cheeks and noses. But I think I managed to get a few good photos despite my un-cooperative children.
Want to hear more fun things? Joel goes to school every other day, all day. On those days, Clayton is the best little boy EVER. I hardly know him! He's polite, quiet, and soft-spoken. He's considerate, loving, and sweet. Take now, for instance. He's sitting on my lap rubbing my arm and reaching up to kiss my cheek now and then. Too bad Joel doesn't go to school every day...
And, miracle of miracles, Rebecca actually does her homework every night! It still takes a little (or sometimes a lot) of prodding on my part, but she gets it done. Last year was a nightmare for me. She'd let some things go for weeks at a time. The trouble was, the teacher didn't say anything about it so Rebecca had no reason to put herself out. This year, the teacher is more strict. Thank goodness. It makes my job easier.
I hardly even want to tell you all the fun things or you'll be jealous. John is building a shed in the back yard, and he's putting a second story on it. It was intended to be a fort for the kids, but seeing as how next year I'll have the place to myself most days, I think I may annex it. (Definition #3) It'll be a cozy little room with a window on either end, and laminate flooring, and fluffy throw rugs.
Spoiled? Yes.
Someday I'll get around to posting the 100 pictures I managed to get off my now-defunct camera. For now I won't be able to post pictures from the Nikon because my poor computer can't handle any more software until it's fixed. It's low on virtual memory, I have an out-of-date anti-virus program, and it's slower than slow. If anyone has any suggestions on what to do (short of buying a new computer) I'll consider you among my closest friends. Wait, I already do. Um, I'll be forever grateful. Thank you.
Oh, and about the picture at the top? That's Rebecca, John, Clayton (sleeping), and Joel watching a fire a few weeks ago.

It's 3:15 p.m.

And the boys are...you guessed it...HUNGRY. They came in from playing outside and Joel announced that they wanted supper, of all things.
"Supper? That's hours away. Rebecca isn't even home yet."
"Well we're hungry."
The trouble is, they had made quite a mess of hotwheels earlier today, promising even as they dumped the tub of cars upside down that they would clean it up.
So I told them that they could have a snack after they picked up the cars.
Joel heaved a great sigh and said, "Okay. C'mon Clayton." He clump-clumped down the stairs to the family room to begin the arduous chore.
But Clayton once again claimed extreme fatigue and was upstairs in the living room glued to his pillow. "I'm tired," he whined.
Joel was getting upset because Clayton wouldn't help. But I assured Joel, making sure that Clayton could hear, that if Clayton didn't help he wasn't going to eat.
The little stinker heard me alright. And he immediately replied, "You forget!"
"I forget what?" I asked.
"You forget that if you don't feed me I'll DIE."
Oh, the drama. Apparently he's of the belief that if he's denied one entire snack he'll perish from hunger. The poor dear.

If you squint really hard...

...you'll be able to see that these are pictures of the show our kids put on for us. John is building a shed, and at this point he only had the floor done. It made the perfect stage.
They were busy all day long--it was a Sunday after meeting and John was gone up to his Grandpa's house.
I sneaked a few peeks at the kids through the bathroom window and laughed hysterically. They were totally engrossed in the music and dancing.
I don't know where they learned the dancing...but there it was. Hand wiggles and knee bends and all.
Rebecca decorated the stage with one of the boys' tractors, and set a plant on the seat. Then she had me light candles and placed them just so. The show was scheduled for dusk, and John made it home just in time.
There were five chairs set up for the audience, which consisted of me and John. A water cooler and cups for refreshments. And Rebecca wanted to serve ice cream after the show, but it got too late. They danced for over 30 minutes, until the mosquitoes started eating us alive.
Good times...

Surprise!

I just never know what I'll find on my camera...