Celebrating Sasquatch

Our family loves to celebrate - often. We make a big deal over holidays, Church Feast days, anniversaries, Sundays, and sometimes a random day of the week (just because.) There are movie nights, complete with blankets, pillows, popcorn, and the whole family squished together on the couches. I love to pull out a colorful tablecloth and the "special" dishes to make an otherwise ordinary meal meaningful. It's not unusual to see white Christmas lights strung across the room regardless the time of year. Memories are made. Traditions formed. Seasons marked. It's what we do.

Birthdays are particularly festive around here. Parties usually involve a theme, homemade decorations, background music (or sound effects) and occasionally costumes. Everyone pitches in to prepare the surprise, and The Reveal (when we finally allow the birthday person into the room to see what we have done), is a delight to us all.

My sister and baby nephew were here for a visit in September, just in time to celebrate my 44th birthday. They joined my kiddos in preparing a party I would remember for years to come.

They threw me a Sasquatch Party. Awesomeness...

It was actually a Bigfoot-themed cafe called the Sassy Squatch  (referencing a fun episode of Psych) ...with an open mic night, thank you very much. 

They know me so well. You see, I have cultivated an appreciation for the ridiculous and I love those "Searching for Bigfoot" shows.  I don't care if he's real or not. (I'm totally lying.)  If it's on TV, I'm so there. Weird, right?

Ready for a Bigfoot hunt?

They had me laughing from the get-go.

Joey the baby Yeti

Alex and David, maybe?

Who needs cake when we have ice cream sundaes?

My sister, Bethany and her youngest, Blaise

After dinner I changed into jammies, and we gathered on the couches to enjoy the show. First Mary played harmonica, then Joey played the balloon. Okay, mostly he spat and giggled, but it was entertaining.

Then the gang put on a skit about a French tourist searching the Himalayas for theYeti.

Staring:
Annie as the French Tourist
Mary as the Hick Guitar Player
Brendan as Bigfoot Head
Alex as Bigfoot's Right Arm
David as Bigfoot's Left Arm

Bravo!

Bethany sang a song she wrote just for the occasion. Best. Birthday. Song. Ever.

We played a game called "Real or Not Real" and Bigfoot tried to steal my presents. 

Bigfoot pose or Thriller dance? You decide.

The obligatory "feet" picture.

All in all, this birthday ranks up there as one of my very favorites. Thank you, my wonderful, crazy family!

A Grease Monkey Is Born

For crying out loud, that hurt! My wrist was beginning to swell, and I watched the outline of a lovely bruise make it's appearance under my skin. There was grease under my fingernails, covering my hands, and smudged on my arms up to my elbows.

I frowned down at the exposed engine of my riding mower. A few days ago it started leaking oil from the valve cover, dripping oil onto the hot exhaust pipe and smoking like...

...like the crumbs left on the bottom of my oven that I forget are there until five minutes after I turn on the heat, and everyone starts coughing, and I feel bad because I was supposed to remember to clean it after it cooled down the last time I used it. You know, now that I think of it, I should probably put "clean oven" on my to-do list, or better yet, ask one of the kids to clean it for me, but I digress...

Where was I? Oh, yes. The mower. In the past I would have waited for someone to fix it for me. Perhaps I would have left it in Matt's able hands, or taken it in to be serviced, but Matt was working longer hours and being low on funds and with no trailer to get it to a repair shop, my options were few. I'd have to do it myself.  I could do this. Okay, so the only thing I knew about my mower was which end to put the gas in. Still. I'd look it up online. How hard could it be?

Several YouTube videos later I managed to remove the mower hood and had crouched down beside the engine, removing screws. The valve cover was supposed to be a cinch to pull off. Only it wasn't. At. All. The guy in the video didn't have any trouble. What was I doing wrong? I put in a call to my neighbor who knows how to fix stuff. He wasn't home, but his wife, Karen, a super sweet lady, reassured me. "Honey, I've learned a thing or two about fixing things and I can tell you - you're not going to break it. Use some more muscle. It will come off. You might try heating it up with a hairdryer..."

Removing the screws.
Hey Karen, see the hairdryer on the chair behind me? 

Fine. If Karen said I could do it...
I scored along the edge of the cover with a knife and wedged the tip of the screwdriver under it's edge. It was not going to get the best of me. But it did. The screwdriver slipped and I fell back onto my hind end, hitting my wrist on something as I did so. "Ow, ow, ow," I whimpered quietly. Darn it. I was going to get that cover off no matter what! I shook my wrist, grabbed the screwdriver and gave it another try.

I gave it all I had. Something had to give - and it did! For a moment I stared at the cover, now off of the engine and in my hand. My arms extended in victory. "Whoo hoo!" I shouted. I just couldn't help myself.

Inside, I was doing the happy dance.

I was almost finished. I only had to clean it up with brake cleaner and re-seal it. At least that's what would have happened if I hadn't noticed a crack in the metal. Uh oh. Maybe I could plug it up with sealant? No, I wanted to fix it right.

It took me a few days to hunt down a replacement part. None of the local shops had one in stock. I had fun asking though. I was amused by the shop guys' facial expressions. I could tell they were thinking, "Where is your husband?" I was even more amused to watch those expressions disappear when I asked for the part by name and number from memory. I had done my home work. I spoke the language. I really had no idea what I was saying, but they didn't know that. Alas, with each the result was the same. No part. One could be ordered and I'd have it in 10-14 days. In 10-14 days my yard would become a jungle. It was time to try something else.

I figured I'd call the mower manufacturer. What did I have to lose? It worked and in only two days my mower was back together. Yay! I was ridiculously proud of myself. It was a very simple repair, but I taught myself to do it. I felt so capable. The whole thing felt, as my kids would say, "epic."

It was too bad the grease washed off my hands so thoroughly. I kinda wanted to show it off. "What, that? Oh that's just some grease from the engine I just repaired." *cough, cough*

My lawn is nicely trimmed and all is as it should be. Except for that noise the car started making. Hmm... I wonder if there's a video for that.

Party Twister

Some party games are more entertaining than others and each person has a favorite. I'm partial to word games and of course the boys enjoy games that require popping balloons or smearing each other with shaving cream. Mary loves treasure hunts, and Joey likes anything that involves running around and making lots of noise.

The head of our rowdy crew, Matt, prefers to avoid games altogether and being his birthday I decided to forgo Pin the Tail on the Donkey, and focus instead on food and atmosphere. Any games that popped up would be of the unplanned variety.

Did some one say party games?

In honor of my Hawaiian shirt loving hubby the party had a luau theme.

Mary helped me decorate. Palm trees and pink flamingos...
Are there flamingos in Hawaii?

One of the nice things about having a husband who loves to cook, is... having a husband who loves to cook. It's awesome! I plan the menu and he makes it happen, even on his birthday.

Norma, Matt's mom traveled all the way from California
to be here in time for her son's birthday.
Just look at those clouds behind them. It had been sunny only moments before.

The party was a success. Everyone was having a lovely time and all was going well. Other than the fact that the weather radio kept going off with severe weather warnings, it was a perfect day.

The storm would be arriving in fifteen minutes,
and the chicken only needed another ten minutes on the grill, so... perfect timing, right?

The wind began to pick up and the radio gave a new alert every minute or so. It was looking like we were in for a direct hit.
"...large hail... wind gusts to 70mph... expect significant damage to cars, trees, and roofs..."

Bummer. 

Matt sent the boys out to close up the chicken coop and duck house while he moved the van into the garage. Annie was closing windows. I watched images of the oncoming storm from the little TV in our bedroom. Tornadoes will occasionally form in storms like this and I always keep a eye for the beginnings of that signature "hook" that will show up on radar. Nothing so far.

A moment later I heard Matt. I had never heard him bellow like that! He was out back yelling at the boys, "In the house, NOW!"

He had spotted a rotation in the clouds over the woods about a quarter mile behind our house. A large tree crashed to the ground. I ran to the dining room just as they charged through the door. "It's a tornado!" one of the boys cried. "Really?" I asked Matt. "Not sure," he replied, "but we're not waiting to find out! Everyone in the basement!"

Fumbling for a moment with the basement door, I got it open and the children and my mother-in-law rushed down the stairs. I glanced at Matt. The color had gone from his face. Joseph was in my arms as I started down the steps into the dark. Matt descended last, closing the door behind us. We were now in the basement, but where in the basement should we be? Normally storms come in from the West, but this one was rushing at us from the North. "Come away from the North wall," I instructed. 

We huddled close together in the South section and Brendan started the Divine Mercy prayer. In moments the storm overtook us. There were windows in this part of the basement. The sky turned a dark purplish-gray. I could see the young trees in our yard lashed about and bent until their tops brushed the ground. I rocked Joey back and forth as if he was so much younger. I'm not sure which of us I was trying to comfort. The sound of the wind grew louder. I had never heard anything like it. The wind absolutely howled down the chimney with a ferocity that made my heart pound. And then it was gone.

As quickly as it had come up the storm moved on. With prayers of thanksgiving we ascended the stairs and found nothing damaged beyond some broken limbs on the edge of our property. A stack of pallets and several sheets of plywood had been strewn about, but that was it. 

"Great tornado drill, everyone!" I cheered. I received a handful of weak smiles. I truly was pleased. Not only had no one been harmed, but each person had responded quickly and correctly. Good to know!

(We later heard that the storm rotation had produced an EF0 tornado a few miles away, but the straight line winds had caused wide-spread damage - trees downed and power outages.) 

Poor Matt looked like he'd been put through the wringer. Concern for his family's safety had left him frazzled.

We sat together at the table. I dished up the food. At first no one wanted to eat. We still needed to recover from the adrenaline that coursed through our systems. The storm was over. We were fine, but that mad dash for cover had left us shaken. 

"Well, that was an exciting party game," someone joked. Now we were laughing, a mixture of humor and relief.
The aroma of teriyaki chicken and grilled corn beckoned.
Conversation became more animated.
Birthday candles were extinguished, and gifts given.
Our celebration slowly returned to normal.

Who doesn't appreciate a card that features sharks with lasers on their heads?

Well, as close to normal as this family gets.

Of Little Boys and Tractors

My No Errand Day

I wouldn't say errands are the bane of my existence. It's not like they take up my whole day making it impossible to accomplish the other hundred and one things waiting to be checked off my list each day.
(Ahem)

Early this morning I checked my calendar. Where would I be headed off to today? Grocery shopping? Doctor/dentist appointment? Taxiing teens to their jobs? The little square on the calendar was blank. Really? Could I really stay home today? I could clean my house? (How weird is it that the thought of house cleaning excited me?)
Anywhoo...

I finished my coffee and dressed for a day at home. I had just grabbed the laundry basket to carry clothes out to the line when the phone rang. It was Brendan's manager. Brendan needed to bring in his work permit. That meant a trip to the courthouse. No sooner did I set the phone down it rang again. We have a small rental property. Rent money was ready to be picked up. Fine, we could do both and still be home with plenty of daylight left.

Stop 1) Driving into town (a 20 min. drive), I noticed I had forgotten to gas up the car on my last trip. I'd better stop at the gas station first.

(Stop 2) Back on the road I realized the gas station was right across from the shop that had a part for the mower I was in the middle of repairing. How convenient! It would only take a moment. They didn't have the part in stock, but could order it. It would take 7- 10 days. How disappointing. Never mind. I'll try somewhere else.

Stop 3) We stop at Brendan's workplace. He runs in to get the form we'll need to file at the courthouse.

Stop 4) Oh look, there's the bank. The renters have left a check there for us. Standing in line I remember we still have to pay the second installment of property taxes on the rental. I guess I should do that today. After all, we'll already be at the courthouse. I cash the check and withdraw a bit more to cover the tax.

Stop 5) Now at the courthouse we sign the paperwork for Brendan's permit and wait for the clerk to enter everything into the database. Minutes tic by.

Stop 6) The tax office is only a couple doors down. Paid. Done. Whew! We're good for the next six months.
In the parking lot I receive a call from my hubby. He has a terrible headache and could I please bring him some medicine? (He is at a job site about 20 minutes away.)

Stop 7) First we stop at Brendan's work and he drops off a copy of his completed work permit.
 Annie calls from home. We are out of eggs and cat food. There is a store on the way to Matt's work site.

Stop 8) Eggs? Check. Cat food? Check. Oh, and fruit. Matt took the last piece with his lunch. Anything else? No? Good. Let's hurry so we can bring Matt his medicine and get home.

Stop 9) Matt's easy to spot in his safety florescent yellow work shirt. We chat for a brief moment. "Can you believe they didn't have the mower part I need?" I ask. He tells me of a store one town over, (You guessed it - 20 minutes away.) that is sure to have the part in stock. I sigh thinking of the over-grown lawn.

Stop 10) As we enter the new town Brendan discovers he still has a check he needs to deposit in his account. Our bank has a branch nearby. Speaking with the teller he explains he never received an ATM card. Looking into it she tells him he needs a different type of account, but not to worry, they could switch him over. There's a banker available now and it wouldn't take long at all.

 An hour later the banker is still clicking away on her computer setting up brand new checking and savings accounts for Brendan. He has lots of questions. I glance at the time and start to worry the parts shop will be closed by the time I get there. Little shops are notorious for closing well before their posted close time. The banker tells me head over to the shop now while she and Brendan finish up. Good idea.

Stop 11) The shop is closed. I'm pretty sure there is another just down the road a bit.

Stop 12) This one is open, but they don't have the part. They tell me to try the previous shop.

Stop 13) Brendan is finished. He leaves the bank with two new accounts and a stack of paperwork to review.

Stop 14) Home at last! ...and it's time for me to start dinner.

Busy, busy, busy! So little time, so much to do.
It's a good thing this was my No Errand Day.

A Fishy Tail

This year opening day for fishing was Mother's Day. (Of course it was.) As I was enjoying the lovely dinner Matt and Annie made in my honor, I noticed Matt was restless. He kept looking at his watch and glancing out the window at the lowering sun. Mid-bite it dawned on me.

"You want to go fishing!" 

He had been talking about it for weeks, but today was Mother's Day and he didn't want to disappoint me by taking off in the middle of dinner. I glanced at Annie. She would keep an eye on the kids.

"Come on! Let's go!" I said, grabbing him by the hand.

We live two minutes from the river and in flash I was settling down to watch on the grass near the water's edge. This really was a pretty spot. I could hear noisy birds, and the roar of water pouring over the small dam before rolling it's way over the rocks that extended into the middle of the river. The late day sun gave the newly-leafed trees a gorgeous green glow. The rocky river bottom could be seen through the tea-colored water and an occasional splash verified the presence of more than a few hungry fish. Matt waded in and made his first cast. Hopefully we'd have trout for dinner tomorrow.

Matt's shout alerted me he had indeed hooked something. That was fast! I ran to the car to grab the bucket. Any moment now we would have a trout or maybe a pike to bring home. I sat back down on the grass, bucket at my side, and waited.

An HOUR later I was still waiting. This was ridiculous. What on earth had he hooked? We still hadn't caught sight of the creature, but every time Matt reeled it in closer, it would suddenly take off pulling the line out behind it. The sun was getting closer to the horizon. We were going to lose light before long. He had to land this fish!

Suddenly the fish made for the rocks below the dam and for the first time we saw a sharp tail fin cut through the water's surface. Wait a minute. I knew that profile. These were the telling fins of a fish we had gathered many times to witness during spawning season. We loved these massive, magnificent, prehistoric-looking fish. Lake Sturgeon. Oh no! Matt had unintentionally hooked one! (They're not legal to keep.)

"Matt!" I called. "I think you got a sturgeon. You have to release it!"

Just then I heard a "snap" as the line broke. The fish settled into the shallows near the rocks. Matt waded over to remove the hook and rest of the line. As he grabbed hold to pull out the hook the giant fish executed what looked like an alligator death roll. From the shore all I could see was a massive amount of splashing. A moment later the fish swam off unharmed and Matt was carefully making his way back to me. It was difficult for him to see where he was putting his feet in the dusky light. I prayed he wouldn't fall in.

Poor man. All that work and he couldn't even keep his catch. He had so wanted to bring some fish home. I hoped he wasn't too disappointed. He wasn't. His hand was bruised and bleeding from a small cut, but he was grinning from ear to ear.

"Did you see the size of that thing?" he asked excitedly. "If he stood on his tail, he would have reached up to my shoulder! He must have been seventy pounds, at least! And all that on a six pound test line!"

We returned home that evening without a fish, without a photo, with the only proof of his catch - a Band-aid on his hand... But what a fish story!

.........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

I didn't have a camera when Matt went fishing, but here are a few photos taken last year when our family went to see the sturgeon spawning on the larger Wolf River. Hundreds turn out for this annual event.

What a good big brother.
Alex was keeping Mary from getting too close.

Do you see how tightly I was holding him? Joey wanted to "pet the fish."

  "I see them!"




The DNR catches,measures, and tags some of the sturgeon before releasing them. Huge crowds
gather to watch.

Smile Matt! Your turn will come.