The Campers are Home!

They're safe. They're happy. They're FILTHY.

I don't normally do laundry on Sundays, but I can't leave all this smelly stuff too long. So after their showers, I'll be starting a 24-hour laundry marathon. We're beginning to realize, though, that those showers could take a while. This is the first indoor plumbing they've enjoyed in over a week.

Saying Goodbye, in Pictures and a Recipe

My great-aunt Anna has made an agreement with a buyer and will likely sell her house before the end of the summer. She's lived alone in this house for almost four years now, and has recovered from a stroke and knee surgery in the past two years. She's moving to an apartment in a retirement community and won't have to worry about maintenance and safety. I pray that she'll have many happy, healthy years there.

The places where you spend your childhood stay with you for a long time. This is the last house that I associate with the days when I was under 10; both my grandmothers have passed away and their homes have been sold, and my parents moved out of our childhood home four years ago. They are just houses, but they hold many memories for me.

I spent a large, happy chunk of my childhood in this house. When we were kids, every Saturday morning we'd come here after my sister's allergy shot. We'd visit with Grandpa (our great-grandfather), our great-uncle James, and our great-aunts Rose and Anna. Rose would be finishing up the vacuuming when we got there. Anna would make pancakes if it was early, or tuna-fish sandwiches if it was closer to lunchtime. We'd hang out in the family room playing "Trouble" and watching "Scooby Doo," "Josie and the Pussycats," and "The Jetsons." Grandpa would tell us stories and teach us to sing "Goodbye My Coney Island Baby" and the refrain to "Marching through Georgia." He's the reason I still love to hear barbershop quartets.

On nice days, we'd play in the backyard under the big pine trees. Every summer there would be a big family picnic back here. The volleyball net would stretch from the edge of the trees to the patio. Picnic tables were under the trees, in the shade.

We figured out that you could write your name, or messages, in the pile on the living room carpet. Rose never liked when we did that, but we did it anyway. Sometimes we'd vault over the back of the sofa into the dining room. We'd look at the big picture of an autumn scene that always hung over the back of the couch. There was a little organ tucked near the stairs and we'd pick out some tunes on it. I always liked practicing my beginner's piano lesson on that organ.

In this kitchen, there was always something cold for kids to drink, in an Archie glass. No plastic cups in this house--we used glasses and never broke one. (If Anna ever decides to give away those glasses, you can bet there will be at least five nieces and nephews fighting over them). In this kitchen, we learned to sing "Zippity-Doo-Dah" and other happy songs. In this kitchen, Anna made her famous vegetable soup and fabulous Thanksgiving dinners. Only real butter was served, and it was always soft because it was never put in the refrigerator. I think they went through a stick of butter in less than a day, so it didn't have time to go bad!

Here's the recipe for Harrington Tuna, otherwise known as Nostalgia on a Plate:
1 can solid white tuna
Miracle whip
Soft butter
Wonder bread

Mix tuna with miracle whip. Spread softened butter generously on two slices of bread. Add tuna and cut on the diagonal.

After lunch you can have two Hydrox cookies for dessert. Don't fight with your brother and sister over who gets the Jughead glass. There are enough Archie glasses to go around.

Good times.

Mad Money

I'm saving up.
I know where I'm going to spend it.
But which one do I spend it on?






Or maybe one of the other gorgeous aprons that the Kitchen Madonna has been whipping up. I know she's been ordering some fabrics for fall....
Well, maybe by the time I reach my "mad money goal" I'll have made up my mind!

5 Things I Love About Jesus

Ellen and Denise tagged me for this meme. Here are the rules:
Those tagged will share 5 things they love about Jesus.
Those tagged will tag 5 other bloggers.
Those tagged will provide a link in the combox here with their name so that others can read them.

I figured that since we have the words of Jesus in the Gospels, I’d use some of them to explain why I love Jesus:
1. “The words I have spoken to you are spirit and life.” John 6:64
2. “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” John 8:12
3. “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” John 11:25-26
4. “I have given you a model to follow, so that as I have done for you, you should also do.” John 13:15
5. “This is my body, which will be given for you; do this in memory of me…This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which will be shed for you.” Luke 22: 19-20

Does anyone else have the Bible School song “Oh, how I love Jesus” running through their head every time they get to this meme?
And I want to give a big “thank you” to Debbie who graciously gave me permission to use her lovely image (with yet another one of my favorite Gospel quotes) to illustrate this post.
I tag:
Amy
Margaret in Minnesota
Laura H
Aimee
Christine

Halfway to Whole Again

Boy, it's been quiet around here.

Not only are Big Brother and TheDad in beautiful, scenic Roanoke, Virginia enjoying all the fun Boy Scout Camp (by day) and Dungeons & Dragons (by night) have to offer...

But Middle Sister has spent the past day and a half with her friend's family, at the beach.

She just called to tell me they're getting ready to leave and that she is coming home with a "complimentary sunburn."

Since 1:00 yesterday it's been me and Little Brother. He's had his chance to be an Only Child for a day. And while he misses everyone, I do think he has enjoyed his chance to monopolize my attention. We invested in a new board game (Scrabble Junior--I can't believe we never had this game with either of the Big Kids!) and we've enjoyed playing together. We've gone to his swim lessons and to the pool in the afternoon. I've gotten a few "house projects" done, as I always do when TheDad is gone. (It's like a sickness. I have to move furniture every time he goes away on a trip. He's very amused by this and has come to expect it by now).

Tonight I asked him to pick up the Army Guys that were littering the family room floor. He told me he had them all "set up" and didn't want to take them down. So I offered to put away the "too-old-for-lead-paint-recalls" Thomas trains and let him set up on the train table, so he could have his ongoing battle. He was very worried that I would be upset about taking down a train track I had designed and built before Michelle visited, but I told him I could make a new track whenever he wanted.

"You're my buddy, Mom!" came with a big hug at that point.

Tomorrow morning the week is half over. When Little Brother wakes up he will find that his sister is home, sunburn and all. And we'll erase the "4" on the white board and write a big number "3"--for the days we have to wait until our family is all together again, at home. It can't come soon enough for me.

Time for Camp

The caravan departed today for Boy Scout Camp. This is TheDad and Big Brother's fifth year of summer camp together.

Good thing St. George is a powerful patron. I had to sign various scary forms absolving the camp from any responsibility if my son is injured (or worse) in the rapids where he'll be canoeing and rafting, or in a cave, or on a mountain, or wherever else the "High Adventure" group will go. I'm sure Big Brother will have a great time. I, on the other hand, will be a nervous wreck.

TheDad says that this is why they don't let moms come to camp. Dads don't mind as much when the boys get muddy on the first day and stay muddy all week. They don't mind the boys' aversion to the camp showers (though they do insist that the boys make some attempt at getting clean before leaving camp). They don't get too nervous when they see the kinds of dangerous stuff the boys will be doing (woodcarving, anyone? Building bonfires? Class 4 rapids?)

It's going to be a hot week in Roanoke, VA. TheDad really feels the heat, and those tents aren't air-conditioned. There's no internet access either. He's also giving up a week's vacation from work, home-cooked meals, time with the rest of the family, and a comfortable place to sleep. And leaders don't camp free--he PAYS to go on this trip. That's what makes him a great dad.

So this week I will be "two men down." I will be worrying about them while they're in the heat and on the river. I'll miss having them around, to talk to and to feed, since it's much less fun to cook for 3 than for 5 (they're my most appreciative eaters!) And on a totally shallow note, I'll be missing my XM radio since I offered to let them have my van. It's a long drive and this way the boys can watch movies.

Please keep them and all the Boy Scouts in your prayers. It's a wonderful organization and it's been great for Big Brother. Even the Pope supports it:

"For one century, through play, action, adventure, contact with nature, life as a team and in service to others, you offer an integral formation to anyone who joins the Scouts. Inspired by the Gospels, scouting is not only a place for authentic human growth, but also a place of strong Christian values and true moral and spiritual growth, as with any authentic way of holiness.

The sense of responsibility that permeates Scout education leads to a life of charity and the desire to serve one's neighbor, in the image of Christ the servant, based on the grace offered by Christ, in a special way through the sacraments of the Eucharist and forgiveness."

The Pontiff encouraged the brotherhood of the Scouts, "which is a part of its original ideal and makes up, above all for young generations -- a witness of that which is the body of Christ, within which, according to the image of St. Paul, all are called to fulfill a mission wherever they are, to rejoice in another's progress and to support their brothers in times of difficulty."

"I thank the Lord for all the fruits that, throughout these last 100 years, the Scouts have offered," he said. He encouraged Catholic Scouts to go forward on their path, offering "to boys and girls of today an education that forms them with a strong personality, based on Christ and willing to live for the high ideals of faith and human solidarity."

Benedict XVI's message ends with advice from Baden-Powell: "Be faithful to your Scout promise, even when you are no longer young, and may God help you to do so!"When man seeks to be faithful to his promises, the Lord himself strengthens his steps."

St. George, patron of Boy Scouts; St. Joseph, patron of fathers; St. John Bosco, patron of boys, pray for them.

H/T to Micki for the image of St. George, patron of Boy Scouts, and to Father Jay Toborowsky for the text of the Pope's message.

A Letter to My Daughter on the Feast of St. Maria Goretti

Dear Middle Sister,

Today, July 6, is the feast of St. Maria Goretti. She is the patron saint of young women, and she died when she was only a little older than you. But she did not die of an illness or in an accident. She was murdered, because she would not give in to a man who tried to rape her. He tried to take away her purity, and once that is gone, it cannot be gotten back. When she fought him, he stabbed her. But in the hospital, while she was dying, she forgave him.

You are growing up in a world where it is very easy for a girl's innocence and purity to be taken away from her. Little by little our world robs girls like you of the chance to stay innocent. TV commercials and programs, movies, music and music videos, and fashion all seek to make grown-up behavior by young girls appear "normal" and to make little girls appear "sexy."

This is why we don't let you buy and wear certain types of clothes. This is why we tell you to be careful when you use the computer. This is why we don't like some of the music your friends like to listen to with you. This is why we won't let you watch some movies. This is why we're not the "cool" parents you sometimes wish you had! It's our job to keep you safe from all the people and all the forces that prey on beautiful young girls like you. I don't want to scare you, but I worry about what could happen to you.

Love,
Mom

Prayer to St. Maria Goretti:

Oh Saint Maria Goretti who, strengthened by God's grace, did not hesitate even at the age of twelve to shed your blood and sacrifice life itself to defend your virginal purity, look graciously on the unhappy human race which has strayed far from the path of eternal salvation. Teach us all, and especially youth,with what courage and promptitude we should flee for the love of Jesus anything that could offend Him or stain our souls with sin. Obtain for us from our Lord victory in temptation, comfort in the sorrows of life, and the grace which we earnestly beg of thee, and may we one day enjoy with thee the imperishable glory of Heaven. Amen.

Back Away from the Camp Trunk....

Big Brother is packing his stuff for camp. I just stopped in there to hand him some towels when I saw him standing by the closet door, rolling his clean T-shirts into balls and tossing them into the trunk.

I can't look.

He's big enough to read the equipment list and find what he needs in the house. I'm just going to assume that he will bring everything he needs.

He also thinks it's very funny that I can't watch him pack, so he's providing the play-by-play: "Hey Mom, one of my T-shirts wouldn't fit in the pile with the rest of the T-shirts, so I put my foot in the trunk and stepped on the pile so it would fit."

His friend is in the background yelling, "Big Brother! Stop walking in your luggage!"

I can't look.

Is It Me, or Is It Monday?

I've been convinced all day long that today is Monday, that this is a new week, that I should be doing all my "Monday routine" chores. I'm having a little trouble convincing myself that it's actually THURSDAY and that trunks are due at Boy Scouts in under 4 hours. You know, those trunks that Big Brother and TheDad have "not yet begun to pack."
I took care of the batteries and the bug spray, though.

ASAP

I've always been a "type A" person, always in a hurry. But the poem below has stuck with me for several years now.

I first heard it in a homily by one of the deacons at our parish. Yes, even cheesy poetry can be a good starter for a homily, because there's a lot of truth in here.

There's work to do, deadlines to meet;
You've got no time to spare,
But as you hurry and scurry-
ASAP - ALWAYS SAY A PRAYER.

It may seem like your worries
Are more than you can bear.
Slow down and take a breather-
ASAP - ALWAYS SAY A PRAYER.