Monthly Archives: September 2012

Mama Boe

For the most part, My Captain is quiet.  Reserved. Practical. Unassuming.

He is definitely also tall, dark, and handsome.  Let’s just get right out there with that.  It’s nothing that you really need to know, but it’s something I like to muse over frequently.

And thank my lucky stars.

I’m still waiting for the day he realizes he married a completely bone-headed dork and tries desperately to find a loop-hole in our marriage license.  But until that time, I’ll enjoy the view, thank you very much.


It turns out that My Captain, though the strong silent type, is also a man of many hidden talents.  Once, My Captain, Varmint, Critter and I were sitting at the kitchen table eating a bowl of fresh cherries.  My Captain got a twinkle in his eyes and said to the kids, “Hey…betcha can’t do this.” He loves to play with them (read: taunt).

Then he…

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~ The Old Redwood Table ~

We got smacked upside the head by Father Time last weekend.  He sent us a little reminder that though time may pass, nothing is truly ever gone.

(He also asked us to kindly stop kidding ourselves and throw away the UnderAmour Underwear.  But that has nothing to do with this story.)

Last weekend, My Captain and I refurbished a decades-old picnic table and bench set that had been at my father’s cottage at the beach since before I was a child.  It was a table that had been stained and painted brick-red for as long as I can remember.  Battle-scarred and softened by years and years of sandy, wet, sea-salt covered butts, it was a well-used piece of furniture long-neglected and un-appreciated.  Every dinner we ever ate as a family at the beach was at this table.  We’ve all got a soft spot in our hearts for this humble, beat-up piece of wood.

But we made an amazing discovery when we started sanding it, in preparation for a new coat of paint.  It was actually made of Redwood!  And it was beautiful Redwood, at that!  All these years, hiding out under paint and stain, the ugly old picnic table was really a thing of tremendous worth and beauty!

So we switched gears and decided to sand it further, and then put a coat of clear weather protectant on it.

And in the process of all of that, we made another, no less astounding discovery.

Affixed to the bottom of one of the benches clung a piece of chewing gum, decades old, and so hardened and fossilized we had to chip away at it with My Captain’s commando Knife.

I searched my memory long and hard.  I was never much of a gum chewer, and I was certainly never one to do such a dastardly crime.   It was too fossilized to have been any of the grandchildren.  No, this crime had been perpetrated by one of my siblings or their friends.

We’re sending it to the crime lab to have it carbon dated and tested.  The truth will come out!  Dad will be vindicated, mark my words!!!

( I really hope it wasn’t me…..)

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~ A Romantic Dinner By The Sea ~

We had the evening to ourselves.  The entirety of the blazing hot day had been spent on the hellacious, shade-less, heat-sink of a wooden deck at Pop-Pop’s Cottage sanding and re-finishing furniture.  We deserved a quiet, romantic dinner by the Sea.

It was nearing dusk, the colors of the sky blended seamlessly with those of the sea.  Quiet violin music wafted through the air, and the tantalizing smell of fresh-grilled fish tempted us.  Our waitress assured us that we had the best seat of the outer porch, the best view of the end-of-season, tourist-less, beach and sea.  She invited us to linger and enjoy the evening.

I wanted to remember this moment, and begged my beloved to borrow his phone so I could snap a picture of him.  I wanted to capture this.  So often in our harried life we are pulled away from each other, our focuses become fractured and blurry.  I yearned for more of this quiet, this undistracted peace.

With God’s palate behind him, I snapped the first photo.

Hmmm.  That isn’t much of a smile, Love.  Really.  This is for posterity.  Can you try a little harder? Please?

Ummm.  That doesn’t look sincere.  It’s a little too posed, and seriously doesn’t even look like you.  Let me try again.

HEY!  The menu isn’t going anywhere.  Dammit!  Look at me!  I want to remember this peaceful moment, you Boob!

Er….clearly you don’t see ‘Boob‘ as a term of affection…ahem….

Look, let me give you an idea of what I’m shooting for in this picture.  Here, you take the phone and snap one of me.  I’ll show you how it’s supposed to look.  Be natural.  Make love to the camera, but employ subtlety.  Like this:


Now give me back the phone so I can take another one of you.

No, seriously, give it back to me.


C’mon!  I’m not kidding!

Look, I’m sorry I called you a ‘Boob.’



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~ Parental Chaperone From Hell ~

Through a process entirely unknown to me, I find myself signed up for a three day/two night John Poole Middle School outdoor education camp…and I’m going as….get this….a parent chaperone.


I don’t honestly know how it happened.  It was a blur.  My friend….or at least, I thought she was my friend, Wendy, cajoled and flattered and finagled me into it somehow.

I’m not speaking to her ever again.

Or at least until I see her again. And even then, only if she is bearing coffee and chocolate for me.

I think she said something along the lines of, “You’ll be so good for the kids!  Your daughter needs you there!  It will be good for you to make new friends!  There will be s’mores!”

I heard this: “Yada, yada, yada, blah, blah, blah, S’mores.”

And the next thing I knew I was signed up.  Committed.

My Captain, the love of my life, said he would come too, without hesitation.  Not because he isn’t already SERIOUSLY over-committed.  Not because he relishes the idea of a complete and total lack of privacy for three days.  And not because he is crazy, though the thought crossed my mind.

He is doing it because he loves my kids. He’s doing it because he loves other kids…all kids.  He is doing it because he is driven to teach and model and encourage.  He is entirely selfless.   He is doing it because he is truly, honestly, sincerely a hero in every way.  Yes, he is a hero as a firefighter and paramedic.  Yes, he’s a hero as a rescue technician for the Urban Search and Rescue Maryland Task Force One’s Collapse Rescue Team.  But for an infinitely more important reason, he’s a hero because he has an enormous heart.   No one had to cajole him into this venture.


I’m in it for the S’mores.

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~ Brace Yourself ~

So I was at Varmint’s cheerleading practice on the lawn of Poolesville High School this evening, when Coach Bupp asked me if I could help them for a moment.


Every glorious, arthritic, flatulent pound of me.

Managing not to laugh out loud, I said, “Sure.”

They wanted me to stand in front of some of the cheerleaders as the practiced their stunts.  The stunt where the smallest girl stands on the not-as-small-but-still-pretty-puny-to-my-way-of-thinking girls, and does a bunch of organized flailing before falling into another cheerleader’s arms.

They wanted me there in case the girl on top fell forward accidentally.  Apparently my job was to break her fall.

So I’m going to add that to my resume now.

“Human Cushion”

I suppose I’ve been called worse.

The things I do for my kids……..

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