Watermelon Day

So we wanted to have a reason to get all the kids and grandkids together one more time before school started. We found that August 3rd was open on the calendar and a quick check of Google told us it was National Watermelon Day. Never wanting to miss an opportunity to have a themed party, the planning began.

The day went great! People showed up dressed for the event-- Sara and Ramon dyed shirts for themselves and Mr Ben that looked like watermelon; Isabella wore a watermelon print shirt; and others wore pink and green. All had tons of fun coloring, blowing bubbles, spitting seeds in the contest, and rolling the watermelon through the obstacle course. And we even ate some watermelon! In fact, we were so busy having fun, I forgot to gather in the little ones and read my fairy tale to them. The plan was to read it to them the way The Night Before Christmas is traditionally read on Christmas Eve in our family. But I forgot and have been asked to post it, so here is the story of The Day of the Melon...

The Day of the Melon

'Twas the day of the melon and all through the town

No one was smiling, not even the clown

The fields were filled with a fruit so gigantic

That they only brought one on the big ship Titanic

Pink on the inside and green on the out

The sweetness was awesome without a doubt

But no one could get to these delicious fruits

The fields were all muddy and no one had boots

They tried to get out there with wagons and cars

But no one could get there, no one got far

The mayor said, "Simple, I'll drive out in my truck."

And it didn't take long for him to get stuck.

The fire chief sent for his men with a ladder

Five men, ten, then 15 did not matter

Their efforts heroic, valiant, and brave

But even these experts the fruit could not save

The weather was humid, sticky, and hot

The people were scared that the melons would rot

The summer, it seemed, would not end with a feast

Their harvest was lost, their good luck had ceased

"Hey, wait" yelled young Earl, the librarian's son

"Don't give up yet. This still can be done!"

He held up one finger and said, "I have a plan."

"I'll need the help of every woman, child and man."

"Yes!" yelled the mayor, "Use any resources,

Our police and fire, their cars, trucks, and horses!"

So young Earl spoke and the people they listened

They smiled at his plan and watched his eyes glisten

While he told them to go and be quick on their feet

To raid every shoe box for the packs marked Do Not Eat

Then bring them back here and we'll open them all

And from those we collect from your homes and the mall

We can spread on the fields to dry up the muck

And bring in the melons with hard work and some luck

So the packets were gathered by townsfolk so busy

And the fields were sprinkled then sounded all fizzy

By three in the PM it was clear Earl's plan

Was a rousing success and the harvest began

The fruit was brought in and the people felt blessed

They praised the young boy and proclaimed EarlFest

But this modest lad would not have it their way

So at his request it's called Watermelon Day

Grandma's smile

Mom died in 1998. Her wish was to be cremated, but she gave no indication of where she wanted the ashes to go. Being the eldest, the contents defaulted to me. I took the box, wrapped it in my Ireland flag and stuck it in the one dresser drawer that had space-- my underwear drawer.

Those who knew my mom will appreciate that putting her among my Fruit of the Looms was somehow appropriate. Probably the best example I can use to illustrate why I would say that is this story of a time several of us were sitting around the kitchen table of the house that seven kids grew up in, and four were still living in. Someone was talking about another woman's house and how immaculate it was kept. The old saying, "It was so clean you could eat off her floors" was used to make the point. Mom, not missing a beat, said, "You can eat off my floors too-- there's enough food down there."  She was the most unpretentious person I've known and what better resting place than... Well, not a permanent resting place; it was just temporary.

Anyway, the seven of us talked a few times about what should be done. There was never a consensus, but there was at least one person who felt mom would be better honored in a green faux marble urn on a mantle. And so we did that.

Somewhere around the 12th anniversary of her death the subject came up for discussion again. It took a year, but three suggestions were offered: spread her ashes somewhere we could all agree on, bury them with my dad, or divide them and let each of the seven have his/her own piece of mom. Without a consensus, it looked like mom was going to be going in seven different directions-- just like when she was raising us! In early 2014 I finally retrieved the urn, divided and distributed the ashes.

It had been my wish from the beginning to spread mom's ashes at Dewey Lake in southwestern Michigan. You see, there is a resort there named Shady Shores that our family has been going to for four generations now. Mom and dad started taking us there on summer vacation in the early 1960s. I believe 1963 was our first year and what a great place it was to be a kid during summer. A sandy beach, a big slide (with a water pump at the top to wet the slide!), water skiing, row boats, fishing off the pier, bikes you could check out and take anywhere, ping-pong and pinball at the lodge, shuffleboard courts lit with bare yellow bulbs, a tennis court surrounded by tall pine trees, softball games every morning, planned activities every night, and plenty of other kids to hang around with made it the highlight of summer vacation every year. Oh, Shady Shores was idyllic in the 60s. And the funny thing is, it is still the same. There are no more planned activities and fewer people go there, but it still holds the magic. The memories are wonderful and may be better than the reality of a place that is really showing its age.  But the kids still feel the magic we did as kids. It is a place stuck in time. And that is what makes it magical.

So this year, with Misha and Sara having babies and Teresa going through treatments, only brother Brian and Cathy rented a cottage. But we planned a reunion for Friday 7/11/14 for all who could make it. And what a time we had! Roughly 30 of us invaded Shady Shores for a day filled with lake fun, time on a rented pontoon boat that any of the kids who wanted to drive had a chance, and a cookout.

The first group to go out on the boat with me was Terri, Teresa, Misha, Alex, Isabella, Geno, son John, Yuzenia, Saralyn, Mr Ben, Tim, Terri (sister), and Matthew. Just as our ride was getting started, Misha said, "This is great having everyone together. Grandma would have loved it."

I had a backpack on board with my share of mom's ashes inside that I had planned to sprinkle a portion of on the lake at some point during the day. Terri was the only other person who knew that and we had figured it would be a private moment. But, once Misha said that, I knew they all had to be a part of it too. We drove out to the middle of the lake and I stopped, cut the engine and let the boat drift. I asked Misha to repeat what she had said so everyone could hear. Then I told them about how grandma had brought us here so many years ago and now we were bringing her back to stay. I choked up (of course) and sprinkled some of her ashes in the lake. The box was passed around and everyone was invited to participate if they wanted to. Everyone did. And everyone was very quiet, solemn, and respectful of the moment. Tim also deposited the full contents of his container.

A little later I looked up as I was driving the boat and saw this rainbow. Out came the cameras and Tim's daughter Julie said, "It looks like a smile."

And I knew whose smile it was.


NOTE: I did not put all of my share of ashes in the lake because I am going to put a little here and a little there-- in places where I feel mom's presence, places where I have memories of her, and places that were important to her. I got the idea from a movie I watched and I urge everyone to see it. It's available at Red Box or Netflix on-demand. The movie is called The Way. It came out in 2010 and stars Martin Sheen and his son, Emilio Estevez. 

Papa and Isabella

Of all the pictures snapped on Father's Day yesterday, I am drawn to this one the most. It was a moment between granddaughter Isabella and me at her second birthday party. Aunt Chrissy Krol captured the mood beautifully.

Here is the brief conversation we had...

Papa: We really should go inside, Isabella. Everyone is waiting for you to open your presents.

Isabella: No. Outside.

(I told you it was brief.)

Moments later Isabella rushed inside-- bribed by her mother with a sugar cookie. The expediency of simple bribery beat logic and reason once again.

Doesn't anyone abide by the, "Don't negotiate with terrorists" rule any more?

New Bike, New Trail, Great Sky

2014 Giant Sedona DX on a section of the Tunnel Hill State Trail alongside US 45
between Harrisburg and Eldorado, Illinois.

When I first got back into bicycling a few ten years ago, I went to the local bike shop and said I wanted to get a mountain bike. The owner quizzed me on what type of riding I did and then told me I wanted a hybrid bike. So I tried one and thought it was OK and ended up buying the thing. After riding that for a couple years I got an itch for something lighter and faster and bought a road bike-- the kind with the dropped handlebars. I quickly found out that was not my style at all and I sold it within a year. Still wanting something lighter and faster, I found the Trek 7.5 FX-- a flat-bar road bike. So I sold the hybrid and bought the Trek. It's my primary bike now and is best for me for longer rides. But I still itched for the more upright riding style of the mountain bike. It's easier to look around when riding on streets and, frankly, reminds me of what bike-riding was when I was a kid and rode my bike everywhere. So here's the new mountain bike. It's a comfortable bike for shorter rides and has the wider tires that do better on softer terrain, but it isn't the best for distance.

This week I was travelling downstate for work and decided to take the new bike with me to take a bite out of a trail I've been wanting to ride for several years. The Tunnel Hill State Trail is an old railroad line that has been converted to a cycling/running/walking trail. From the Barkhausen Wetlands Center just outside Karnak to the end in Eldorado is 55.6 miles. I rode from Harrisburg to Eldorado and back. It was only 18 miles but that was plenty in the 90 degree heat on a bike not built to ride distances. I'm looking forward to riding more (or even all) of the trail, especially the southernmost portion.

Isabella's ball

One of the traditional gifts for toddler birthdays in my family has been a ball. Nothing fancy, just a 99 cent ball, the kind you see in big wire bins. What made it a little special, was that I would always put the child's name on it with permanent marker.

Well, Misha got a new ball for Isabella last week and asked me if I would put her name on it. It's nice to see her hanging on to things she remembers from her childhood. Makes me feel that they were special enough to her that she wants to carry them on.

Plus, I get to play with markers.

Easter bubbles

This is granddaughter Isabella and me enjoying a family Easter tradition. The decision to include bubbles in the kids' baskets came from a sermon at an Easter service when they were very small.

The pastor called the children to join him in front. He sat on the steps and they surrounded him. His right hand was inside a brown paper bag as he asked the children to guess what he had. His hints were: round, colorful, and each one different. Of course they all guessed eggs. Then he pulled out his hand and began to blow bubbles. As the kids admired or excitedly reached for them, he explained how people are made alike in some ways but different in others-- just like the bubbles! He said that being different didn't matter, that to God we are all the same, and we should be nice to everyone, even if they are different from us.

The pastor's message was probably lost on the little ones, but I know one older "kid" who got it.