Dropped something

AD lost his wedding ring this afternoon while he was mowing the backyard, so our after-dinner time this evening was spent searching the backyard for it. Though our favorite neighbor children were not able to help in the search and rescue effort (we were offering a $10 reward to the ring-finder), their grandfather did bring over his metal detector. And while the metal detector did not ultimately find the ring, AD did dig up the lawn in three spots for a nail, a coin, and a key. How was the ring finally found, you ask? My eagle eye vision.

This is not the first time we've enlisted the help of neighbors to find something in the yard.

Let's go back to the winter of 2006/2007. AD was still in school and I'd been out of grad school for about six months, and we were living in this rental house right next to the university in Kalamazoo. 

For purposes of this story, let me tell you a bit about our little section of that neighborhood. To the west of the house, there was one house before our street dead-ended into the university--a thirty-something couple, who we became friends with, lived there. To the east of the house, there was one house on the corner of our street and the cross street--an older man, whose wife had passed, lived there. Except for this corner house, the other two houses on that block were one story and had garage/parking accessible only by an alley off of the cross street. The corner house was two stories and had a driveway and garage off of our street [not the alley]. Basically, the other couple, AD, and I all needed to access this alley to get in/out, and the man did not, though his two middle-aged daughters were always parking their cars in it and not very concerned when asked to move them. Keep this situation in the back of your mind as we continue.

I was teaching freshman comp and remedial writing at a small rural community college about 35 miles away in St. Joseph county; on my commute, I would cross a covered bridge and a sign announcing the hometown of Verne Troyer [the actor who played Mini Me in the Austin Powers movies], passing an occasional horse-drawn carriage.

Here I am on a typical day, working at home:

And here's SG on a typical day, hanging out under my desk and looking cute: 

According to city-data.com, Kalamazoo is ranked as the #21 city [with population over 50,000] in the U.S. for average annual snowfall at 68.8 inches. That season we got 89.1 inches of snow. As proof, check out the trails we had to shovel throughout the yard so SG could do her business: 

Okay. So. 35 mile drive to work. Treacherous winter weather. Obviously I had to give myself some time to get to work on time. One morning I went outside to start my car, and there was a Salvation Army truck parked in the alley. Since the neighbor's daughters always took so long to move their cars under regular circumstances, I immediately started down the alley. Imagine me, in my loafers, trouser socks, and dress pants, sinking calf-deep into the snow bank (much like the ones pictured above) because the dang truck was taking up the entire alley. By the time I finally got to the neighbor's door, I was pissed, and when the daughter came to the door, I simply said, "I need to leave for work; you need to move this truck." The daughter started going on about how I was going to have to wait because they were moving out all kinds of furniture. I started back down the walk, saying something about being welcome for shoveling her dad's walk the night before for the umpteenth time that season, and proceeded to slip and fall into the snow bank next to the truck, at which point my car keys came out of my hand and also landed somewhere in the snow bank. 

I spent some time looking for my car keys to no avail. For whatever reason, AD had the other set of keys to my car, and he was on the aviation campus 25 miles away, so he was no help at that point. Desperate, I got our guy neighbor to come out and help me look for the keys, but he didn't have any luck either. So I had to call in to work that day. And wouldn't you know it, as soon as AD got home that afternoon, he took this super high-tech auto mechanic magnet on a stick, fished it around in the snow bank, and pulled my keys right out?

The moral of these stories? 
1.   Don't park your neighbors in, it's rude. Or, better yet, love your neighbor as yourself. 
[And if you want an update on our current difficult neighbors from this post, they had a contractor out for an estimate on a privacy fence, but ended up putting about seven 6' arborvitae bushes along our part of the fence and are now putting an addition on the back of their house. I pray for her often]
2.   You're always going to have a difficult neighbor. But you'll usually have an awesome neighbor, too.
3.   If your wedding [or other meaningful] ring gets too big for your finger, have it sized [or buy a new one, as is our case because AD's tungsten band {along with certain other metals} can't be sized]. My dad once went dumpster diving to retrieve his wedding band.
4.   If you're on my property and are wearing a wedding/meaning ring, take it off before helping with yardwork. We're pretty sure that the wedding ring my dad saved from that dumpster was ultimately lost while weeding our front bushes.

Embracing the camera at my new in-real-life friend Emily's blog today (more on how we became IRL friends later).

Grandmothers

Well, for the past month or so, I've anticipated doing a post today about my Nana (my mom's mom), as today would have been her 85th birthday, September 1st marked two years since her passing, and also because this past summer we finally got to work at her house and had an estate sale and are preparing to put it on the market.

But then a week ago on September 11th, my Grandma (my dad's mom) somewhat unexpectedly passed away. That morning the staff at her nursing home found her unresponsive, and when they got her to the ER, they found she had pneumonia, low blood pressure, and low blood oxygenation. She came to and was complaining to that her stomach hurt, and after further testing, they found that her small intestine was twisted and causing fluid to back up. Some time that afternoon, she slipped back into unconsciousness. Under normal circumstances, the doctors would correct this with surgery, but due to her condition and age (89), they didn't know if she would make it through and/or recover from surgery, but they would do it if we insisted [which we did not]. From there, the nurses explained that we had to decide whether we wanted to try to otherwise treat her by giving her fluids and all sorts of other things through her IV, or if we just wanted to give her pain medication and dopamine to keep her blood pressure up [until family could make it to the hospital to say their goodbyes]. The family unanimously agreed on the second option, and everyone but my brother and one cousin (both out of town) made it to the hospital. When I first arrived around 7 that evening, her breathing was labored, she was kind of curled up on her side, and her blood pressure was registering on the monitor. When we left her room around 9 while a new patient was transferred to the next bed, her breathing had slowed, she looked very peaceful, and the nurse was having a hard time finding her blood pressure. At 10 or so, a nurse came to the waiting room for us. I was confused when we went back in the room. Her body had seemingly straightened out in the bed and it looked like she was breathing, so at first, I thought she had come back to consciousness. But she was gone. She has been visited, memorialized, buried. Everyone has come and gone home and back to their regular schedules.

I was incredibly close with both of my grandmothers--all of my grandparents, really, in different ways. And I was very lucky to have all of my grandparents until I was 22, but now at 30, they are all gone. There is so much more to say here, but I don't think I've even started processing this to a point worth sharing.

Back to school

Probably since I was eleven and preparing to start sixth grade at the middle school, I've loved going back to school in the fall [even though I was always seriously worried about having friends to eat lunch with and was usually sleepless the night before the first day]. I'd start preparing in July, checking the mailbox every afternoon to see if the August issue of Seventeen had come that day; I got pretty excited when the fall J.Crew or Delia's catalog would arrive, too. When they had, I'd spend hours pouring over them. I'd analyze all of the fall trends--if I liked them, if I could pull them off, if they meshed well with the image I wanted to project. I'd make detailed school clothes shopping lists and talk my mom into taking me all over the place to find unique pieces. During the fall of my freshman year of high school, I actually wrote out (in a wire-bound school planner) my outfits for weeks at a time so I wouldn't wear the same outfit too often.

Reflecting on those preparations, it would appear that I really liked clothes (I still do, but since clothes are toward the bottom of the list of things to spend money on, I don't really let myself shop for or buy them unless I really need them) and was a little spoiled. And, I really cared about my identity and what other people thought of me (which I've gotten much, much better with). But school clothes shopping aside, who can resist the spirit of a new school year? Back then, it was just about the only time you could re-create yourself--your style, your friends, the kind of student you were, the activities you did--and get away with it without too much hassle from your peers. There were so many possibilities; a new set of teachers, a new set of kids in your classes, a cute new boy who had just moved to the area... the next year of your life was as clean and promising as a brand new composition notebook.

Six years out of grad school, four years out of teaching, and four years away from my eldest child starting kindergarten, I still get excited for the new school year. Besides giving advice [and reminiscing] to my coworker whose daughter is starting her freshman year of college at my alma mater, there's not really much I can do with that excitement and energy.

Or is there? There is. 

During the summer, I get pretty lax about going to church on Sunday; I know I'm not alone in this, and it's okay. Luckily, much like our secular educational system, the church gets ramped up for a new year of learning, too. So this year, I've decided that I will use this annual surge in excitement and energy to be more physically present with my faith community [on Sunday morning and Wednesday evenings], and more studious in my pursuit of the Word. 

Rally Day is later today (I haven't gone to bed yet), and LG and I will be there, dressed nicely (no new church clothes for us), and ready for the festivities; a pig roast, games, and a bounce house. Later this week we'll start WOW (Word on Wednesday).




The first sentence of this post referenced me starting sixth grade when I was eleven. Besides starting at the middle school, that year also marked my first year riding the school bus [which was kind of a suck-ey experience. My bus stop was the second to last stop on the route, and there were never any seats left; each day, I'd have to quickly decide which two kids looked the most likely to actually scooch over in their seat so I could have an inch or two to hang my butt off of. That, and the bus driver was always closing the door on me] . I'll always remember the first song I heard on the radio on the bus (listen to it below), and wouldn't you know that I heard the song on the radio on my way to work this past Tuesday (the first day of public school in Michigan)? 

This summer

As the [sometimes only physically present] parent of a small child and owner of a home, it's easy to get stuck on my family's day-to-day situation. Since LG has been born, my mentality has basically been What do I have to accomplish before LG goes to bed? Before I go to bed? Before AD leaves on his next trip?--living my life a few hours or few days at a time. In a phrase, modern survival mode. There is so much I could say here about this mode of living, but that's not really where I want to go with this post. What I'm trying to say is, though the stuff going on with myself, my family, and my home takes up 90% of my cognizance right now and so far 100% of this blog, I want to acknowledge that there is much going on outside of my little family and our suburban existence, and while I don't get take as much time as I'd like I need to learn about and participate in the [local, regional, national, global] community, that I am aware of and compassionate to (though sometimes feel powerless to change) what's going on out outside of "us," and I want to raise my child[ren] as such.

[I do want to say here that though I love my next-door neighbors and the {perceived} safety of the suburbs, I do not really enjoy living here. Last weekend we visited my brother in Kalamazoo, where I spent 6+ years of my life, and my heart longed for the diversity, culture, and smaller circles in that mid-size city. On the opposite end of the spectrum, when we visit AD's parents rural property, my heart longs for a natural place where our neighbors aren't on top of us and we can just be. Either of those settings, I think, would be more conducive to participation in the local community than the large metropolitan area like the one in which we currently live.]  

So there's my long winded introduction to a post about the things I'll remember about this summer that lie outside of my family. In a word, this summer has been weird.

First of all, after a peculiarly mild winter, summer weather came to Michigan very early this year. The temperature crept up to the mid-eighties as early as the end of March, and it hasn't really cooled off a whole lot since then. Or rained. The majority of the country has been in a drought (the worst in 50 years, with 57% of the continental U.S. in moderate to extreme conditions) that's ruined or severely stunted the corn and soybean crop, and thus beef production as well; "they" (my sources here NOAA and CBS) are projecting food prices to rise 3-5% in the next 6-8 weeks, and possibly 10% in 6-8 months if conditions persist.

Despite the dry weather, the mosquito population seems to be thriving and successfully infecting humans with West Nile virus; in fact, 2012 is the worst outbreak since it was identified in the U.S. in 1999. So far, six elderly people in Michigan have died from the virus. What freaked me out was a newspaper article about a local lady who found out she'd contracted the virus via the Red Cross after donating at her church blood drive; she said the only time she's exposed to mosquitoes is when she waters her garden at night--which is basically the only time of day I water my garden. Lord knows I'm not getting up earlier than I already do to water, and I suspect a few midday waterings burnt up my dill and cilantro. Lord also knows that I'm not going to go to bed cloaked in Deet, and since bathing before bed is not really an option anymore with the effect my new CPAP straps are having on my hairdo, I guess I'll be taking my chances and venturing into the backyard unprotected.

Besides West Nile, there have been a lot of weird illnesses popping up this summer. Pastor Brad got Lyme disease after a week at camp, an aquaintence got MRSA from an infected bug bite and had to be hospitalized for three days, and two women in the metro area, ages 18 and 33, have had a flesh-eating bacteria--the 33-year-old died, and they think the 18-year-old got the bacteria from shaving. Shaving, people. Feel free to use this as an example if anyone  complains about the "forest" on your legs/face/[insert hairy body part here].

So far in this post, I've touched on some death: death of crops due to drought, death of people due to bacteria, virus, disease. Unfortunately, there has also been a lot of death of people around here due to violence from other people, namely, someone in their family. 

I am not sharing the details of these deaths out of sensationalism, but because these events have affected me and have been a part of my consciousness this summer. Though I don't watch the local news or read the newspaper, due to the aforementioned weather situation, I have been checking weather on the local news station's website several times a day, and have become somewhat enthralled [and horrified] by the unfolding of these events. Earlier I alluded to the perceived safety of the suburbs, and the following murders attest to that. Within two miles of our house (which is in a nicer area than AD and I ever dreamed of living--thanks God, for letting those first six houses we wanted not work out, though I was not thanking you at the time),  there was a murder/suicide of a couple in their 50/60s, and there was also a crazed 19-year-old who killed his ex-girlfriend's mother and new boyfriend with an ax and then shot himself.

Becoming a mother, and experiencing both the love you have and the physical, mental and emotional work you put into your child, really affected my processing of the following murders and the circumstances around them. First, a Farmington Hills man was killed by blunt force trauma [and his wife and son severely injured] inflicted by his adoptive son and a friend, who had come to the home for money/property they could steal and sell to get K2 (aka Spice; if you're not familiar, it's synthetic marijuana that was being sold at gas stations and convenience stores {at least in Michigan} up until these events took place). Less than a month later, a grandmother shot her 17-year-old grandson because she suspected he was using K2 and might kill her in a violent rage. Two Westland teens that had been visiting an uncle in Detroit were found murdered execution-style, and most recently, a Notre Dame premed was charged with killing his father in their basement and dumping his body in field. With the exception of the Westland boys, these murders all took place in the wealthiest county in Michigan. 

If you're still reading, reader, I'm sorry if this post summarized information for which you're already aware or don't particularly care about, or it if has come off as "doom and gloom." However, these events and circumstances have been wearing on me. It has been a long, enduring summer, and the thing that's been resonating with me more and more is the concept that evil/Satan is everywhere.

But so is God, and in Him, so are you: "Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power. Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. Stand therefore, and fasten the belt of truth around your waist, and put on the breastplate of righteousness. As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace. With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God." ~ Ephesians 6:10-17, NRSV

To finish up on a lighter note, I'll leave you with a few summer pics I haven't posted yet. One Sunday during July when AD had the day off, we met up with one of LG's friends from daycare and his parents for a picnic and playtime. Here's AD and LG playing at the splashpad that day:

Afterward, I changed LG out of his swimclothes and into a fresh diaper on the tailgate of the truck. LG doesn't slow down much, but I was able to get a rare pic of him just kicking back and relaxing:

Pure Michigan [400]

Another thing you might not know about me: I [casually] follow NASCAR. Growing up, it was the only televised sport that my dad was into, so [old school, Winston Cup, pre-Chase] NASCAR is a part childhood memories of a "typical" weekend. Dale Earnhardt Sr was my father's favorite driver, and I thought the name Dick Trickle was funny. Since Sr's passing, my dad has not found a replacement as his favorite driver, and (not related, but relevant) my mom has gotten really into the sport.

The company my dad works for sponsors NASCAR, and my dad is able to get free tickets for clients and personal use. So a couple Sundays ago (8/19/12), my dad and mom took me [and my brother and his girlfriend] to my first NASCAR race.

I do not have a favorite driver, so here's some of the drivers I was hoping would win:
1.  Mark Martin (because he's old school)
2.  Carl Edwards (my mom's favorite driver)
3.  Dale Earnhardt Jr (it would be cool for him to win another race this year in Michigan)
4.  Joey Logano (he is the favorite driver of one of my favorite blogger's sons)
5.  Brad Keselowski (some people say he's kind of cocky, but he's from Rochester Hills, so it would have been 
      cool for him to win)

Greg Biffle won. I'm cool with that. 

My thoughts: 

I like NASCAR. Though there's quite a focus on branding/marketing/consumerism, I think it's a pretty fun, wholesome sport. You don't really hear about drivers getting in trouble for violence- or sex- related offenses, as you do in other sports like football and basketball. 

I like the fans. Some are a little, er, crude, but they're sincere. You don't really see people in [slutty, skin-tight] designer clothes and four inch heels, like you might do at a baseball game. You might I did see a lady in mom jean shorts and a checkered string bikini top (to which I said, rock out with yourself, lady). 

And if at first glance you thought I was baring my midriff in public, you'd be wrong. That's a military-inspired bag with toggle closure.

Will I go again? Absolutely. Will I go again if I have to pay for tickets? Maybe. Would I ever camp there? Hell no. I have to tell you that LG was with a babysitter that day from 9:30am to 8:00pm, and while I thought about him all day (how I can't wait to take him to a race in a few years--that boy loves his cars--and the comfort that NASCAR will likely one day be a childhood memory he associates with his maternal grandparents), I really enjoyed a day with adults, and it was actually kind of nice that the race was so loud and I didn't really have to do a lot of talking or listening. Although I did ask my dad if the cars drive from side to side during caution because it's fun, to which he laughed and said they do it get the debris out of their tires.

LG's first camping trip

If you didn't already know, AD and I are hardcore campers. For the first four years of our togetherness, we kicked it in a backpacking tent, always in rustic national forest or state park campsites. Almost four years ago, we got our pop-up camper. The only thing that changed with the addition of "Poppy" is that we can accommodate up to three other adults, and the majority of our camping gear lives in her year round, which makes the before and after part of camping much easier, and we therefore go more often--just grab your clothes and food and go! It is truly our home away from home; we have room for all of our camping needs [and more], including the "Oh Sh*t" bag for emergencies. Let me say, though, that our home away from home does not include a generator, air conditioner, TV/DVDs, or even flushable toilets. That's why we go rustic. If you want that stuff, stay home. 

Poppy's first trip [with us] in April 2009--notice there are no leaves on the trees? AD couldn't wait to go

The first summer (2009) we had Poppy, we probably went camping 8-10 times, including our week-long trip to the U.P., which is one of my favorite memories in our *almost* five years of marriage. The second summer (2010) we had her, we only went 3-4 times--we had just bought [and were working our butts off on] our house and I was in the first/second trimester with LG, which included a fun stint with placenta previa where I was on bedrest for a week and then limited physical activity for another month. Last year (2011), poor Poppy only got used once, and that was for deer camp in November, on account of the fact that AD spent the first half of the summer researching, interviewing, and studying for a new job, and then August - October in training in the other D[allas].

Pure Michigan: Lake of the Clouds, Porcupine Mountains

We didn't know how many times we'd get to go this year, especially with AD working just about every weekend--seriously, his first weekend off this year was in July, and not so coincidentally, our first camping trip of the year, and LG's first camping trip ever, was in July. We decided to keep it simple and go to Brighton State Recreation Area, which is less than an hour from home and also where we took Poppy for her first camping trip (with us; she'd had two previous owners who didn't take her out very much). AD was supposed to be getting home from work late on a Friday night, so we planned to take off first thing Saturday morning and come home Sunday afternoon. Well, AD ended up getting home from work before I did that Friday, and talked me into rushing around and forgetting things throwing everything in the truck and taking off that evening; I'm definitely glad we did, though. 

So, how did LG's first camping trip go, you ask? AWESOME. I don't know why we ever had the slightest doubt that he would be anything but a natural camper. He loved it. 

Do you think I could find a toddler-size camping chair when I actually needed one?

On Saturday morning we had breakfast and then took a walk around the campground; LG wanted to hold hands going up and down the gravel road, and I wish I would have had my camera with me to get a pic of AD and LG from behind. But alas, I have memories. Then we rented a paddle boat, and of course, AD took us through these shallow little channels between several different lakes and then threw SG in and had to jump in after her (she's not the spring chicken she used to be). Shenanigans. But we all had fun. Then LG took a nap:

LOVE it.

Per usual, there was an afternoon trip into town for ice cream and supplies. Other than that, there was:

(playing)

and

(eating -- LOVE this face)

and

(hanging -- just to photographically prove that SG and I were there too)

and one

(tantrum)

On Sunday, we had breakfast, packed up camp, and planned on going to the beach (one of the only nice beaches I know of on the east side of the state) before heading home, but LG conked out in the car [sunscreen and swim gear and all]. So when we got home, he washed Poppy with our solar shower and we had a picnic in the backyard.

We're hoping to get to our favorite fall camping spot this month or next.

Since there's a shot of LG and I, and a few of LG and AD, I'm linking this post up to: