Funky

The backstory:  Though he can generally be relied upon to bath with soap, at times the boy seems to find washing up to be a waste of his time.  To whit, the following post-shower conversation.

Mama:  Did you use soap on your armpits when you bathed?

JT:  Maybe.

Mama:  Maybe?  As in maybe not?  Because your armpits smell like onions.

JT:  Well, Mama, that's just lucky for you, I guess.

Readers, I wouldn't call it lucky.

August 1st: Clematis

There comes a point in every summer when the combination of hot temperatures and dry weather begins to take its toll on the garden.  I'm enough of a Californian to be careful about the use of water to keep things lush.  I water my vegetable patch regularly, but try not to water the grass or established flowers. 

And that's what going on with my clematis vine: things got too dry.  I know this from some research I did on just this subject.  It's too late in the season to begin watering it, but I'll know for next spring and summer, when I hope that it will return and I will have the sort of lush vine I'm looking for.

In the meantime, my garden is about to start producing in abundance, I still have a month of vacation to enjoy, and the chirping morning birds make me smile.  I've had a great summer so far and I'm heading into the final month with a sense that the month ahead will bring more happiness, plenty of flowers and plants to enjoy.  And that's worth celebrating.

Awesome

I have six years worth of photos of JT at camp.  Life around here often features reminders of just how fast he's growing up, but there's nothing quite like a break in our routine for me to realize just how much he's grown in a year.

Pictured below is JT at camp in 2006, the first year that we traveled to Cape Cod.

 And then there was 2007 (he's pictured here with his buddy D.....and lest you worry, the boys asked to be tied to the tree).

 Our hero was taller in 2008.

And taller still in 2009.

Do you sense a theme?

For much of 2011, I've experienced these moments of breathlessness about how incredibly fast time is passing.  This year's version of the boy is stronger, taller, and louder.

Just the sight of him (even when caked in grime) still fills my heart with joy.

And he's more awesome than ever, this no-longer-little boy of mine.

DQ'ed

A few weeks back, the state of New Jersey contacted me to request that I join them for Jury Duty.  I'm a responsible citizen, so I didn't mind serving but......

1.  I'm a single mama who doesn't work in the summer and serving in the summer meant I needed to find a place to park my boy.  From 8 to 5.  That's rather a tall order.

-and-

2.  Just last year, I served.  If by served you mean showed up, didn't make a jury, and was then sent home.

Our state requires juror service only once every three years,  So, I went ahead and asked if I had to serve again.  Turns out that I do not have to do so.  While I appreciate that, I still think that the state could have found a more polite way of suggesting that I stay at home.

I will confess that though I do love the Garden State, I do have to wonder just what it says about me that I'm not qualified to serve here.  I mean, how high is the bar?

Ouch, New Jersey, that hurts.

Food Friday: At Camp!

This year at camp, we had a three-burner propane stove to work with and I was inspired.  So one afternoon, I scored some quality steaks and with them I served up some home fries.

The smell while this meal cooked made the entire camp sight drool.  And the eating? It was pretty awesome as well.  Let's hear it for griddles and camp stoves!

Gardens of Cape Cod

As a native Californian now living on the East coast, I'm always impressed by the different plants that grow around here.  While I was on the Cape, I admired some very lovely garden patches filled with lush flowers and plants.

I discovered the happy growing delivered some fresh goodness to the local farmer's market in Provincetown. 

My tomatoes are coming along and I expect to harvest plenty of them with some fresh basil in the weeks ahead.  The rest of the crop will make an appearance next month, when I look forward to being overwhelmed by squash and peppers.  I always welcome the summer bounty.  But in the meantime, I'll admire these pictures of other gardener's lovely successes.

Lessons From Camp

A few years ago, my fellow-camper and friend S over at But Wait wrote a post-camp rundown that she called Lessons from Camp.  It was a fitting tribute to a very happy time under the pine trees.  Those days always hold us in good stead for the year ahead and I like to keep track of the memories.  This year, I've decided to use her format to sum up our very relaxing ten days at Cape Cod. 

Save one of the year's celebrations (JT made the Honor Roll in the spring semester) for your boy's favorite Cape Cod kitchen: PJ's.

Take time to admire the tiny creatures in the sea.

No matter how big the boys get, the Land Shark remains a tough foe.

Challenge yourself.

Enjoy the ocean.

Beware of trees.

Planning ahead is always a good idea.

Have fun with your friends.

Take some time to admire Mother Nature's creativity.

Not to bad for 10 days work.  Not bad at all.

Enough Already

Tired of the debt ceiling budget crap?  Me too.  I imagine that you'll be relieved to discover that we actually don't need to be worried about any of it.  But, in fact, the current budget and debt hysteria is needless.  Need proof?  Head on over to Kevin Drum at Mother Jones to see the facts.

Read it and weep for your republic.

Real Life Conversations with JT: Modesty edition

The backstory:  I got a new swimsuit and tried it on to ensure that it fit.  JT saw me standing before the full-length mirror in the upstairs hallway and had some thoughts.

JT:  Is that your new swimsuit?

Mama:  Yes.  What do you think?

JT:  It's nice, but there's an awful lot of cleavage.

Perhaps I shouldn't have asked?

Oh, P-Town

Our annual summer camping trip takes us to Cape Cod.  At the very end of the Cape is Provincetown, a town know for its tolerance and free-thinking.  We were in town one morning, and I saw this bumper sticker on a car.

 If only the rest of America could see fit to engage its common sense gear.