A-Golfing We Will Go

The other night Derek and the boys wanted to go golfing.  Adelaide and I wanted to go reading, but the boys have been asking for some time now if I could go along to watch them.  It was finally time to either acquiesce or embrace poor and selfish motherhood.  After a brief but vicious internal struggle, I chose the former.  Then duped Daughter into coming along.

Really, it was beautiful out there.

Anymore, it's a little strange to watch Atticus and Caedmon on the golf course; they're very comfortable there, and clearly know what they're doing.

According to Caedmon, the rake is to smooth out the footprints he made while shooting out of the bunker.  I do not think my suggestion of a zen garden was all that preposterous, as golfers seem to me to be rather easily riled.

This guy tends to be outwardly calm, but I think even he could do with a therapeutic session of rake, rake, raking his cares away.

Meanwhile, I get the stink eye from Derek for making new friends instead of paying careful attention to everyone's swing.

I did pay some attention, however- how else would I have gotten photos of everyone, even Adelaide!  I am not including that one, however, at her request.  Perhaps she doesn't want proof out on the internet that she can be coerced onto a golf course?  She's part of a secret anti-golf society?  Sadly, we'll never know, as she flounced out of the room when I (nicely, I was just curious!) dared ask her why I wasn't allowed to share the photo of her.  It would seem that being ten is rough, or maybe that's just when you're the sole intelligent being in a family of eejits.  

Not Adelaide, but the sentiment remains the same.

Even though the boys- particularly Atticus- desperately wanted to stay and play longer, Derek took pity on certain family members (um, not the boys and Derek) and we left after playing all of... I don't know, seven holes?  Derek can remember every hole and every shot and every whatever in a round of golf.  It all blurs together to me:  First, you select a club out of your bag.  I am assuming this selection is not random, but who the heck really knows?  Then, you swing the club at the ball.  The ball heads (hopefully) toward a tiny hole in a vast green space.  Repeat as necessary.

It sure is pretty, though.

Especially the players.

It looks like he's doing a good job, but again, who knows?  Not me, not ever.  So I just chirp, "Good job!" over and over.

A List

• I'm slowly starting the annual fall cleanup of our flower beds.  This essentially consists of pulling mass amounts of creeping Charlie and dead foliage out, interspersed with buckets of balls that have been hit into the hostas/lilies/everything else by certain children and then left there for me to find right about now.

I kid you not, the above is from right about four square feet of flower bed, so for once I was not being hyperbolic; when I am done I will literally have buckets of found balls, along with a sock or four that blew off while drying in the summer sun.

• Since Derek and I recently finished all of Midsomer Murders that Netflix has to offer, I took the advice of MomQueenBee and we gave Doc Martin a try, because when there is a BBC-shaped hole in your life, the only thing you can fill it with is, well, more BBC.  Three seasons in, I have three important things to share with you about our new show- a list within a list, if you will (HOW EXCITING!):

1. We rely heavily on closed captioning for most shows, but British television in particular; however, the person who did the CC for Doc Martin needs to be summarily FIRED.  It's awful!  If they're not taking the easy way out ("inaudible content" constantly shows up), they're just out and out wrong; I don't know how many times I've exclaimed, "That is not what he said!" during each episode.  This makes me a joy to watch tv with, by the way.
2. Derek did a google street view tour of the village where the show is shot, so when I'm not yelling about the incorrect CC, he's interjecting with comments like, "Where does that car think it's going?  There's a dead end around that corner!"  We might just be made for each other.
3. If for no other reason, you must watch the show for its insults.  The doctor (not to be confused with The Doctor) is a curmudgeon of the highest order, and rarely holds back his vitriol.  Last night he called a man an "unctuous, platitudinizing eunuch," which was so spot-on for the character he was lashing out against I cackled and then went running for a pencil so I wouldn't forget those words anytime soon.

• A while back I read a tip from Superstar Science Chef Person Alton Brown (I'm pretty sure that's his actual title), which advised you add a bit of salt to your coffee grounds before brewing to help cut the bitterness.  Well, I ground up my beans and put them in their basket filter and added some salt, but then when I tasted the coffee... I don't know.  I can't tell if I could actually taste the salt, or if I've gotten so used to bitter coffee, what my taste buds were reading as "salt" was really just a lack of bitterness.  I need someone's help with this.  I don't really know how you're supposed to help me, but still- help!

This Week: A List

This week we

• Went to the local public garden, where the kids ran around,

and I took pictures of plants I've decided I can no longer live without,

Ornamental millet, you complete me.

and the kids ran around,

and I took more pictures of plants I can't live without.

They had all kinds of water plants in containers throughout the garden.  Why has this never occurred to me?  Fill something with water, then grow water lilies on top!  Brilliant!

And a direct result of all that running, not to mention half the reason we go:

• Won a golf tournament.  Well, Derek won a golf tournament, but I'm counting it as a family victory.  I don't have a picture of that, but I do have a picture of him winning at Chinese checkers.

Derek is one of those people who somehow wins all manner of things.  This is infuriating to Adelaide.  If an impassioned rant is what your life is missing right now, you should ask her about it.

• Played with legos.

Okay, so the boys played with legos, Derek won a golf tournament, and I'm reading this book right now:

It's, like, mondo good.

Adelaide is reading this:

She claims that hers, too, is mondo good.

Seriously, though, those are all container water gardens!

Birdies

Last Saturday Derek and I announced that we had a special treat for the children:  We were heading to the golf course after church the next day for an afternoon of family togetherness and fun and bonding and stuff.

The boys cheered.  Adelaide did not.


Sunday morning I packed a mess of food in a cooler, forced our children to look more or less presentable, then headed to church, where Derek had already been for several hours pushing buttons and working with cameras and telling people how to push the buttons and work the cameras.

We did our church thing, I passed out food, everybody ate, and we arrived at the golf course.  The boys were squirmy and excited as we slathered them with sunscreen, Adelaide looked like a character from Dickens, right up until she realized what was happening.

Derek, Atticus, and Caedmon were heading out into the heat and humidity to golf.  Adelaide and I were not.

Not golfing.

The two of us were staying on the cool, shaded veranda to read and watch the swallows and sit in the comfy Adirondack chairs and, most importantly, not golf.

Before we discovered the Adirondack chairs could be dragged into the shade.  And not golfing.

The swallows were particularly fun to watch, as the male and female took turns sitting in the nest, one swooping out to stretch their wings and grab a bite to eat when the other flew in to relieve the first.

Each really seemed to relish flight and freedom after a long spell of sitting and parenting.  I can relate.

Derek didn't really get to golf, as having both boys golfing at the same time doesn't really allow for things like concentrating on your own game.  He can relate to the swallows, too.

Adelaide and I did abandon our respective leisure pursuits to join the boys on their final hole.

Afterward Daughter and I agreed that we enjoyed ourselves more than we ever expected to on a golf course.

Not golfing.

Then we all went and got ice cream.

The end.

A List for Friday

• Signs your children are growing up in the age of technology:

Caedmon loves to draw pictures, but he will often ask if you want just a picture, or a picture and an audiobook.  If you go the audiobook route, it means you are possessed with infinite patience and/or have twenty minutes of your time to sacrifice to a meandering story about super heroes and lightning coming out of fingertips and hot lava.  There is always hot lava.

Recently when he posed this choice to me, I went the audiobook route.  I don't really remember why I did this to myself, but I'm fairly certain guilt was involved.  Caedmon drew his picture full of swords and lightning and stick figures with disturbingly large fists.  He wrote a bunch of random letters and a few short words on the reverse of the piece of paper; this was the audiobook portion.  Then he brought the paper over to me, allowed me to view his masterpiece, then flipped it over and prepared to recite a tale of lava and derring-do.

Before he began, however, he said, "Oh, wait, there's an Ad before the audiobook can start.  But you can Skip it if you want to."

Methinks we've been watching too many YouTube videos.

Caedmon loves audiobooks, but will still deign to listen to a paper version.

• Signs your children have fantastic teachers:

In Atticus's kindergarten class they have this thing called "magic words."  There is a list of a few magic words every week, and every time the kids hear or use one of these words, they are to tug on their ear.

Atticus thinks this is pretty much the greatest thing ever.  I think this is pretty much the greatest thing ever, because it has him using words he didn't previously, all while wiggling his earlobe with his fingers and looking meaningfully at me with a smile:  "He is such a RASCAL," *smile wiggle wiggle*, or "I was FRIGHTENED the frisbee was lost," *smile wiggle wiggle*.  

I love the way he says these words in an announcer's voice, enunciating each consonant, but there was the week I learned I overuse the word "finally"; I worried our son's ear was going to fall clean off from all the tugging he had to do.

Atticus also has a fantastic coach, although it isn't his ear that sees plenty of action during soccer- it's his tongue, which evidently must bask in the light of day for him to successfully kick the ball.

Click to embiggen all these to see his Soccer Tongue.

Two Soccer Tongues!

And here's Atticus and Derek, looking very... coachly.  I say if "kingly" is a word, "coachly" can be, too.

• Signs your family has faces more suited to those strange mugs with faces than to a glossy magazine cover:

You know, this kind:

Looks like a Crisler

These are the faces our family makes whilst playing mini-golf together:

Neither Adelaide nor I are able to remain composed when we make a bad putt.  And when you ask Caedmon to make a "pirate face," because we were playing at Pirate's Cove?

A Wax Museum and a Driving Range

Adelaide pretended to be two things last week.

She was Tutankhamun for the third grade wax museum:

She was responsible for engineering all of that costume except the makeup, for which I am to be held accountable:  plenty of my eyeliner and bronzer, the last of which did make her skin look a little darker, but it was less "ancient Egyptian king" darker and more "too much fake tan on a white girl" darker.  It was somewhat orange and reminded me of those two girls who sat in front of me in an A&P class I took in college.  I only remember them because of their blinding orange hue, streakey blonde hair, and conversation that made me want to kill myself rather than have my IQ drop any lower just from accidentally overhearing the things they talked about.

Anyway.

Adelaide did a nice job, had the informational speech she'd written about King Tut fully memorized and ready to recite over and over and over to any who walked by and pushed her "button" (that red dot near her shoulder).  Step 1:  Have kid research historical figure in order to create a costume.  Step 2:  Write a 1-2 page report on chosen person in history.  Step 3:  Get the kids amped up about their families coming to see them dressed up in fun costumes, have them repeat that report so many times that they have that information memorized for the rest of their lives.  You certainly know what you're doing, Ballard third grade teachers.  

We also went to the driving range one warm evening, where Adelaide pretended to be a golfer.  The three kids and Derek swung metal poles at little balls.  I took pictures.

If you spend any time at our house, you quickly begin to notice that our boys have this somewhat strange practice where they watch Derek and then rearrange their limbs and voices and way they move to reflect whatever he's currently doing.  It's not one of those obnoxious games of mimicry, but more a form of intense hero worship that I by turns find adorable and disturbing.

It seems to help, however, when Derek is teaching them to golf.  They've already tuned their movements into his, so copying whatever he does comes naturally to them.

Adelaide was dispatched to get a bucket of balls shortly after we arrived.  See that bundle of fabric she has stashed in the crook of her right arm?

It turned out to contain an array of nail polish she'd smuggled onto the range.  "Moooom, can't I please paint my nails while the boys are all playing?  I'd like to get something useful done while we're here."

After being denied her "useful" occupation, she decided she might as well hit a few balls herself.

See her ball, flying in the air, a bit in front of her there?  She couldn't get that from painting her nails!

Never mind the temptation I felt upon seeing those pretty bottles of polish.  This was for her own good.  Or something.

A List

I had decided not to write a post today because I was in such a determined state of grouchiness, but now it's thundering out and there's a light rain to water my hard-working spring flowers.  Few things cheer me up like a healthy thunderstorm, so I'm feeling much better now, thank you.

• The first hyacinths have bloomed:

I planted these a couple years ago, but for whatever reason they didn't bloom last spring.  When it started to look like they might actually flower this year, I got excited about the peach-colored hyacinths I was just sure I had planted in this spot.  Well.  These aren't peach.

They are, however, a beautiful purple-blue color, and I'm pleased as punch with them.  The first flowers of the season are always so exciting.

• We celebrated a lovely, low-key Easter with church and golf and gardening.  I have all of three photos of the kids in their Easter finery ("Easter finery" in this household equating to whatever nice-ish clothes I could cobble together three hours before the church service, as I stopped spending money on holiday clothing years ago), or maybe it was four, and right around 100 photos of the kids and Derek golfing.  I will not be forcing you to look at all 100+, but fair warning:  There are going to be a large amount of pics on here this week.  Some will be sweet:

Derek and Cade golfing.  Caedmon looks a bit waif-like in all the golf photos, as he's wearing one of Derek's hats and one of Atticus's shirts.  I did not notice this until we were on the course.  Oh, well.

Some will baffle:

I took this photo of Adelaide during the Easter egg hunt, and I'm still not sure what's happening here.

But in precisely zero photos will everyone be smiling.

Caedmon's "Lollipop Guild" face

• I was going to have a third thing here, but I can't remember what it was.  This is a problem because I cannot let myself have a list with just two items.  So... fill in your own third item.  And make it clever, would you?  Or perhaps heart-warming, or funny, or something?  Thanks.