Wilmington Weekend Update #25

Happy Memorial Day! You know, for a holiday in honor of soldiers who have fallen in battle, that greeting seems a bit chipper. But then with the glorious 75-degree, clear, breezy day we're having here, "Somber Memorial Day," doesn't seem quite right either. I think Margaret and Liz nailed it with their childhood song, "Say hey, hey! It's Memorial Day! Poop on they who say hey, hey!"

But then I've gotten ahead of myself. Our Silver Anniversary blog begins with April 30 and the picture below:

This photo shows Todd Reynolds, Nancy Kotz, and Heidi Klein gamely attending the Wilmgton Health Access for Teens Picnic With A Purpose so I wouldn't be all alone at the Cape Fear Pediatrics table. See, I thought once the practice wrote a sponsorship check my part was done. Only after we mailed it in did I learn why the price was suspicously low: I was expected to recruit seven friends who would happily show up at 11:30 on a Wednesday to enjoy box lunches in the UNCW Warwick Center Ballroom and listen to endless speeches about how great WHAT is, ultimately turning over checks of their own. I just have to publicly thank my posse from Turtle Hall for keeping me from looking completely lame. Next year we'll all know: there is going to be a Grace, it will be very, very long, and no, we're not supposed to start eating until it's over.

Next picture: Nancy Kotz hosted the first annual "White Gloves and Boots Western Party" in support of a UNCW scholarship named for our late friend Connie Harris. Margaret and I thought about costumes around an hour before the party was to start, and this is what we came up with (hat courtesy of Nancy, who had stacks of them by the front door, oh and gloves as well). I'm coming to realize: Nancy Kotz is our social life.

But we can't neglect the role of Karen Vogel. It was she who organized the Blessing of the Animals with the new reform rabbi. Here you see Margaret wheeling the cat and the two Americaunus chicks across the street to be blessed. We hung out for watermelon, hula hoops, and tennis lessons courtesy of Karen.

Nothing photographable or bloggable occurred until the final soccer games of the season, Saturday, May 10th. Sellers for some reason caught fire, running and kicking as though he'd been enjoying soccer all season. His team scored a resounding victory. But don't worry, the Hills didn't get too cocky, because Abby's team played next, and they got the stomping of a lifetime. I swear one of those kids on the other team looked just a little like David Beckham. Seriously, does anyone know where he was May 10th? Nevertheless, this is YMCA league, so in the end everyone gets an identical trophy, two slices of pizza, and a cupcake.

The following day was Mother's Day, as some of you may have remembered in a timely fashion. But actually we did prepare, unlike Margaret's birthday. That was April 18th. Wait, you say, we didn't see pictures from that day! That's because I didn't take any. We did have presents for her, but it fell on flop night, and we did nothing photographable or even bloggable. But with Mother's Day we made up for it. The thing is, Margaret really doesn't crave the things people usually give: dinner out, massages, jewelry. So we gave her socks. If you saw her sock drawer, you'd know how special that was.

The biggest news from May is that harvest time has come to Turtle Hall Farms. Our first crop of cherries (teeny, tiny, sour little cherries, but edible nonetheless), blueberries, and strawberry (we had one so far, which I cut in five thin slices) has come rolling in. We're practicing sustainable local agriculture right here in Wilmington, provided you're on a very strict diet.

The biggest news of all comes from the chicken coop. Below is a photograph of our first three eggs! Counting the cost of chickens, feed, coop, and paint, each of the eggs is worth roughly $500. Way to go, girls! So far only two chickens are producing, but soon we'll be overrun with eggy goodness.

Speaking of eggs, we had a little problem with chicken cannibalism. If you grew up with chickens you know what I'm talking about. I figured as the weather warmed it was time to put the new chicks out in the coop with the big girls. I knew we had to introduce them slowly to avoid gang warfare, so I left the chicks in their cage within the larger coop. Things seemed to be going well after a few days, so one night I released them, checking repeatedly for signs of violence. All night things seemed peaceful. In the morning still there was peace. Then, as I was driving home, Abby called me, hysterical. Once she slowed down it became clear the big chickens had pecked the littlest chick nearly to death. Margaret beat me home and spent an hour on wound care and debridement. For the next two weeks she nursed Betsy Ross back to health, washing her head and neck and appyling a thick layer of Neosporin. Betsy is now recovering nicely, and her scar is shrinking. I asked the big girls what they were thinking, and while my understanding of Chicken is rudimentary, I believe I understood them to say, "She tasted like chicken."

Sunday, May 16th our friend and neighbor Jeff Weaver took us and the Vogels out on his boat. He taught me to drive it, and by the time we were done I was nearly as good as his six-year-old daughter. The following day he continued educating our family in the Wilmingtonian arts by taking Abby, Sellers, and me to the driving range to instruct is in golf. Judging by his 300-yard drives I suspect Jeff is a good guy to learn from. Then again, it may just be his arms are so blasted long.

The whole family has caught bicycle fever. Julian had to get the hang of pedaling, but now he wants to bike down to the marina with his brother and sister. We finally got Margaret her own bike a couple of days ago, so the fantasy of a family bicycle ride can now become a reality, at least in theory.

Below, we finally collected enough eggs to make a meal by Monday, May 19th. That same evening Julian realized the only thing separating him from Superman is a cape. Here he tries to get up escape velocity.

Jeff Weaver, our neighborhood cruise director, produced hammocks from who knows where. Below Greta Fennel, Abby, Izzy Vogel, Sellers, Julian, and Megan Vogel demonstrate they really are peas in a pod.

Last Thursday local news station WECT contacted me to comment on a recent fatal case of shaken baby syndrome. I gave a five-minute interview which was cut to 10 seconds of me throttling a baby doll while smirking. See the coverage for yourself HERE .

Last night our friends Melissa and Kevin Bachman brought their kids by for shrimp, burgers, and chicken-petting. Here Superman confronts Super Medeival Knight Man.

And that brings us pretty much up to date. School is nearly out, a fact we haven't yet come to terms with. But not to worry, I'm sure if we just wait some more stuff with happen. Hey, hey!