Laughing out Loud

My little boy did a writing assignment for school about professional athletes.  In one sentence he commented on athletes getting in trouble for "smoking wheat".  Ah, innocence.

We've Been Boo-ed

It was the first time I had ever been boo-ed.  It was a little frightening.  It began with the ringing of the doorbell.  It was dark and seemed unusually late for unexpected guests. The kids followed me to the door. We peered out. No one was there. I looked down the driveway. No cars.  Creepy.  I was reluctant to open the door but then the kids saw something on the porch. There were small gift bags sitting outside the front door.  I stepped outside.  Still not seeing anyone, we picked the bags up and went inside.  The attached flyer said, “You have been Booed”. The gift bags had typical Halloween treats, pencils, and spider rings. The kids were delighted.  I was relieved.

Apparently “Booing” is a new Halloween activity.  The flyer explained how we could keep the Boo going.  First we went to the designated website where we printed off a Boo sign to post on the front door that signifies we have been Boo-ed.  Then we printed off flyers like the ones we had received with our gift bags that explain the process to our intended victims. We put together goodie bags. After deciding who we wanted to target, we loaded up the van and headed out.  It was hilarious to drive by friends’ houses with the kids, trying to devise plans of getting to the front door, ringing the bell, and getting away without being detected.  The kids loved the mischief.  I was taken back to my youth that was full of similar but much less wholesome mischief. Even our four year old wanted to ring and run, so I had to go prowl around with them in the dark, while my husband waited in the getaway van. We had so much fun, I think we may need to make a tradition of it.

Learn more about starting a Boo in your neighborhood.

Stuff

Sometimes I feel frustrated by the amount of "stuff" in my house.  With kids comes lots of stuff. It is a constant battle to manage their things, our things. I watch an episode of "Hoarders" and it gives me perspective.  We have things, but at least they don't have us.  I don't know at what point a person loses the ability to manage their belongings, but the show motivates me to purge the unnecessary objects from our home. Tragic.

Looking Back, Looking Forward

Fall is a very important time for gardeners.  It is rewarding to look back at the growing season and recognize what worked well in the flower or vegetable gardens.  It’s critical to assess what didn’t work so well and change it.  Fall is a good time to divide plants that have overgrown their place in the beds or move plants that have failed to thrive.  Because plants are going dormant they don’t require food or water for developing new growth.  And cooler temperatures mean that you don’t have to water your transplants everyday like you might need to during hot summer days. 

Remembering those spring days when every bit of plant growth was a reason to celebrate is important because inevitably there were some places in the landscaping that could have used a little extra pizazz.  Nothing provides that better than bulbs planted in the fall.  The variety of bulbs can be overwhelming.  I always consider flower color, height, and expected bloom time when choosing bulbs. With a little planning you can orchestrate a continuous display of blooms from early spring through summer. 

I’m not a proponent of fall “clean up” of my gardens.  There are enough other chores to do.  I let the year’s growth rot where it grew. It gives insulation to the early spring growth of perennials that might otherwise be damaged by a late spring frost or freeze.  Because I have to contend with rabbits, I have to wrap certain shrubs with burlap to prevent them from being eaten to the ground. Unfortunately, it doesn’t take long to discover what plants rabbits find delicious. I make sure that all the beds have several inches of mulch to protect their roots throughout the winter. I empty my last batch of compost into my vegetable garden and work it into the existing soil. This leaves my vegetable garden prepped and ready for planting in early spring.

 

Gardeners know that gardening is an evolution.  No year produces the exact same result and no plant remains the same. With a little reflection over the year’s results, the gardener can make the necessary changes to help ensure even better results in the next growing season.  

"I Quit!"

 I think this is a common parenting dilemma: do I let my child quit an activity that they wanted to sign up for?  A friend of mine is currently wrestling with this one.  Her 5 year old daughter wants to quit dance class.  Most people have weighed in on her Facebook page saying no, do not let her quit.  It seems to be the common belief that to let a child quit one thing will only encourage them to quit everything they ever do.  It seems a bit extreme.

 

My husband and I have been firm with our children in joining team sports. “You aren’t just making a commitment to play, but a commitment to your team.  A team can’t function without all of its players.”  This seems fair and a concept just beyond that of sharing.  So if they sign up, they are in for the season.  But with individual activities, I can’t see taking such a hard line.  I encouraged my friend to tell her daughter that they paid through the month, so she will finish the month.  In that time,  her daughter could change her mind and they might buy some time to figure out if there is something going on that needs to be addressed, such as a problem among the kids.  But, why aren’t kids allowed to decide that for whatever reason, they don’t enjoy an activity? Isn’t that what they are there for, enjoyment?  Don’t we want our children to develop their own passions?  Should we really encourage them to participate for participation’s sake?  

No one wants to encourage their child to be “a quitter”, but I think that quitting is something that we do all throughout our lives.  Who hasn’t quit a job?  You quit living in one place to begin living in another.  You, hopefully, quit bad habits.  You quit dating people.  You quit some friendships.  You quit depending on your parents and become independent.  Maybe we should quit imposing these mandates on our children based on our own fears of their abject failure in life and begin accepting that sometimes, they just don’t want to dance.

Pure Michigan Wineries

Wine Tasting in a Strip Mall

            When I told my friends from Traverse City that I was enjoying a wine from Wills Winery of Lapeer, I think I heard an audible scoff come across facebook.  From the land with rolling vineyards they found it hard to believe you can have a winery without vineyards.  I’m here to confirm that you can.  You can even have it in a strip mall.

 I stopped at Wills Winery one day to pick up a bottle of their award winning Chocolate Raspberry Red. The owners,  Bill and Sue, added me to their mailing list after they got me excited about a new chocolate cherry wine they were working on. I’m not a wine snob.  If you can put some interesting flavors together in some grape juice and call it wine, I’m willing to try it. Of the several tastings they offer a year, this one coincided with the visit of my friend from North Carolina. We were all about a free wine tasting in a strip mall winery.

 I was looking forward to a unique experience. When I had stopped in to purchase the wine I had only gotten as far as the huge rack of wine just inside the front door.  I was eager to see their tasting room.  Would there be wine barrel tables with bar stools, or something contemporary, with no pretense of being on a vineyard?  Would they have exotic cheeses and fruit platters on a tiered display?   Would they remind us of the importance of swirling, of smelling, of clearing the palate?  I hadn’t attended a wine tasting in over ten years; I needed a good refresher course on wine.

When we first arrived, I was immediately frustrated by the lack of parking. Generally strip mall connotes ample parking.  Not in this case.  The winery being located at 814 S. Main St, also known as M-24, a busy 5 lane road, precludes any street parking. Was this strike one?  If it was, strike two happened immediately after we entered the front door to a very crowded room.  I was so disappointed to realize that what I had seen on my first visit was what there was to the “wine tasting room”.   There is one large, floor to ceiling wine rack to the left acting as a semi partition from the back of the room where the unattractively stored wine mixes are stored. Lining the far wall was some insignificant shelving with various wine accouterments.  Under the window on the same wall as the door, was a table with two large chaffing dishes, one with rigatoni in marinara and one with rigatoni in alfredo sauce.  Were we going to sample that much wine?  I did end up eating some decent pasta with alfredo so I won’t say the lack of fancy cheeses and fruits was strike three.

The right side of the room had an odd maze like structure of dark, cherry stained cabinetry.  Most prominent was a bar height, curved counter that accommodated about eight people standing.  Behind that, there was yet another L-shaped counter.  To the rear were two U-shaped counters. What purpose all those counters served I don’t know, but enough already!  The walls were papered in a faux stone wall paper with vine accents that screamed cliché.  They should have spared the expense of the wallpaper and cabinetry and invested in real wine glasses so tasters weren’t drinking out of mini plastic cups that are typically used for jello shots. The owners really have a missed opportunity with the set up as it is;  the opportunity to take their tasting events beyond a happening to a real experience.  Painted walls,  some original art work, background music and some bar stools would go a long way toward  capturing the senses and creating a comfort level superior to that of standing under the harsh fluorescent  lighting of someone’s cheaply decorated 90’s kitchen.  No one is expecting Napa, just make it original, like the wine.

And the wine is original. On the menu that evening were ten wines. My favorite, besides the Chocolate Raspberry Red, was Amore, a table red with such smooth and subtle tones that I kept sipping just to identify the flavors that delighted my tongue. Blackberry Mist is a dessert wine that, though sweet like dessert wines are, it had a richness that made it unique. I think they ventured a little too far when they created Mojo, a mint flavored wine inspired by mojitos.  It tasted liked medicine, and was the only sample I did not want a second taste of. All of the wines we tasted were on the sweet or fruity side, along with a couple of dry white wines. They could have offered a wider variety. Prices ranged from $10.99 to $16.99 a bottle. Certainly there are cheaper wines, but these are reasonably priced.

The Wills and their family of helpers were such an enthusiastic and extroverted crew. If it had to feel like someone’s kitchen, at least they felt like friends. My girlfriend and I were so at ease with our hosts and their delightful group of friends and family, who as one put it, “were willing to work for wine,” that we had a very enjoyable evening.  There was no pompousness that is often associated with a wine crowd. I didn’t receive the refresher course on the finer points of wine tasting, but they were all glad to share their opinions on the wines, and stories they had about other wines.   It was an evening of good wine, good humor, and good conversation that I would gladly repeat.

Visit Wills Winery online.

It Began with A Phone Call

Last Monday, my oldest daughter called from Ann Arbor to tell me some disturbing news.  Her friends were “talking” on facebook and one had posted that the police had just stopped by her home to warn her that there was an armed fugitive in the area. Her friend lives one block from us! One heavily wooded block. It was 11 pm and I was home with my three children.  My husband was at work.  I could barely speak, I was so rattled.  When I processed what she told me, I immediately shut off the lights inside the house and turned on all the exterior lights. I moved my four year old out of my bed downstairs to her bedroom upstairs where her older brother and sister were already sleeping. I called my husband to let him know what was going on.  I tried to sound brave.  All I kept wishing was that I had gotten a gun when my dad wanted me to. 

I stayed upstairs where I could watch the front door and the back of the house. I watched as helicopters filled the night sky with their spotlights. It felt oddly like a war movie.  I remembered my 11 year old telling me around nine o’clock how a car kept passing in front of our house really slow. I realized then that it had probably been the police. I was keenly aware that the sense of safety my home had provided had been shattered.  I felt like a prisoner. Sitting.  Waiting. The rational part of my brain knew that if someone was fleeing, the idea would be to get as far away as possible.  The frightened part of my brain was devising strategies for survival against an armed fugitive looking for hostages. I had my cell phone set to 911. One button and I would be ready to rattle off my address and the situation.  Why didn’t I get that gun?

I wondered if I should call my neighbors.  Their lights were out.  I didn’t want to set off an unnecessary alarm.  I paced upstairs rooms, looking out different windows to see different parts of the yard. I expected my husband to get home soon.  Time moved slowly. My heart raced. I hated the night. Why would someone run from the police? 

My husband arrived home. His partner at work has a son-in-law with the Swartz Creek canine unit.  His partner called to tell him the police were thinking they had a suicide by cop waiting to play itself out with this fugitive; bad news.  The worst thing about someone with nothing to lose, is that they have nothing to lose. How that happens to a person, I can’t imagine.  But to be confronted by a person in that state of mind has never been on my bucket list.  My husband’s partner told him to come borrow a gun.  He declined. Why didn’t he want that gun?

Long, short.  They caught the guy a few miles east of us.  They didn’t have to shoot him. We still don’t have a gun.

A Holy Moment

John Mellencamp - A Ride Back Home (English) (Lyrics) - MusicPlayOn.com

It was a summer night.  The kids were in bed.  I didn't feel like building a fire but I wanted to be outside. I kicked up my feet in a lounge chair.  The stars were bright. The wine was uncorked.   Crickets were competing with Mellencamp, Life Death Love and Freedom.  I can only say, it felt like a holy moment.

Stranger at the Door

Leaving your children home alone always carries some element of risk.  Even when you have confidence in them, you worry.  Now I know why.

Wednesday my children had the day off school.  I had a long overdue hair appointment.  My nine year old son was awake and eating breakfast.  My twelve year old and four year old daughters were still sleeping.  I gave my son some instructions and left.  Going down my dirt road, I passed a white car going suspiciously slow since most cars fly down our road.  It made me uneasy thinking I had left my driveway empty when I left.  I thought I would call my son and just remind him to not answer the door in case anyone stopped by.  Before he could respond to my reminder, I heard a man’s voice.  I could not believe what I was hearing.  My son then told me that my daughter had already opened the door for some guy in a white car!  I was only a mile down the road so I whipped through an open gravel turn around and flew through a stop sign. I was insane, fully expecting to smash head on to this car if it came along.  My son then told me the man had left.  I insisted on talking to my daughter.  How could she do that?  She was my responsible and cautious child, how could she open the door to a stranger when they were home alone?  She was rattled.  She had just woke up and she wasn’t sure why she had done that.  She was scared but felt pressured because the man had seen the kids from the door.

 I wanted to puke all over myself. I still have a difficult time understanding.  My son has a nature that is incredibly trusting and somewhat oblivious.  I expect to have to remind him.  I would have never dreamed that my older daughter  would do such a thing.  It was a wake up call.  No matter how much you impress upon your children the importance of different safety precautions, you just never know.