The long-beaked fuzzy guy you see below is a baby blue heron rescued by our neighbors the Richardses. Morgan has sort of a knack with distressed animals. They were on their way to a wildlife rehabilitation center when they swung by to give us a peek. Currently they're nursing a litter of newborn squirrels. My grandmother Nana, were she still alive, would be completely flabbergasted as to why anyone would save a squirrel. But some of my fellow Tennesseans already know the answer: they make mighty good eatin'!
The next day we were finally packing for our beach vacation. You'd think my optimism about our departure times would extinct, but there I was, suggesting there was no reason we wouldn't be pulling out of the driveway just after noon. Five PM is close, isn't it? One thing that held us up was cooing over this baby tortoise we found that morning. The rest of it was just uncertainty about what stuff we might need at the beach house. You never know, maybe there will be a storm and they won't have a leaf blower? We've got a minivan, so there's room!
We did make Pawley's Island at nightfall and found Aunt Liz, Uncle Mike, Cousin Bailey, and Cousin Nora already ensconced (and we should have known they'd bring a leaf blower!). Grandad and Diane arrived shortly afterwards and we set about the important work of unpacking, eating pizza, and drinking beer. Below, Abby and Bailey use Bailey's new interchangeable Muppet to create likenesses of the grown-ups.
Let me assuage your fears: I know other people's vacations are tediously boring. Even vacations that are really fascinating, like trekking through Nepal or snorkelling in the Gallopagos do not bear re-telling to anyone who wasn't there. Of course there are a few exceptions. If you get gored by a bull in Pamplona, sure, I want to see the scar. Kidnapped by Malaysian pirates? Do tell! But otherwise keep it to yourself and email me a link to your Snapfish album. So don't worry, I'll be brief. We started with sun and perfect waves for boogie boarding, so we did stuff like this:
And this:
And this:
And, finally, this:
Sellers insisted on listening to Kenny Rogers's "The Gambler" before engaging whomever he could find in a friendly game of Uno.
It seems we always take our vacation the week the sea turtles hatch. We had a loggerhead nest just in front of our house, and after few days one of the turtle rescue people dug to check on the eggs. Apparently this guy was not yet quite cooked, so back in the sand he went.
That night Diane and I went down to the beach with a flashlight to see if there was a "boil" of baby turtles yet. A big crab had dug down into the nest, and I found him making off with this baby in his claws. I managed to corner the crab and scare him into dropping the baby, who made a break for the sea as soon as the kids were gathered around to watch.
Julian aka Spider Man shows off his web-building skills. Apparently his mommie can't escape, so we'll have to bring her a beer.
People have different ideas of what it means to relax. For Diane it means helping four enthusiastic and very messy young children make adorable little watermelon-themed cupcakes.
This is more in line with my definition of "to relax."
As the kids have grown we've been able to enjoy our vacations in new ways. For the second year running we had a nightly quest. This year's theme was "junior detective," devised by Diane and Liz with help from the FBI website and Mike's iPod prowess. Every night a different famous detective presented the kids a mystery they had to solve.
Peter Gunn shows the children how to solve the Mystery of the Missing Penguin using colored water and note cards that were blank...or were they? Julian, upon seeing the outline of his penguin, unexpectedly broke into tears. No more CSI for him.
Aunt Liz surfs in to "Hawaii Five-O" to report an art theft.
Uncle Mike helps Nora complete the last of the five jigsaw puzzles that lead to the stolen painting.
This woman was sent by the mysterious "Charlie" to solve the mystery of the missing Moon Pies by matching the suspects' bite marks to the remaining cookie.
I missed this appearance by a mysterious and rather clumsy French Inspector with an outrageous accent. While he seemed to have trouble navigating around furniture, he did provide some tips on fingerprinting.
This "Secret Agent Man" taught the kids to break a code in pursuit of a missing NIH laptop reported to contain the secrets of dinosaur DNA. Afterward he sang and played guitar. Odd behavior for an agent if you ask me.
Fortunately a member of the "A Team" was available on the final night to help the kids locate a stolen satchel filled with fabulous prizes.
After our first few days in the sun Tropical Storm Fay crashed our beach house. At least we'd brought leaf blowers.
Aunt Liz set up a beauty salon in which all five children celebrated Fay by getting made up like another famous Faye: Tammy.
Our annual puzzle, completed thanks to the storm.
These things washed up in the high tide. They seem related to anemones, but if anyone can tell me what they are I'll be grateful.
The waves were too rough for much play, but Diane began a chase game on the beach that sort of, well, devolved:
Once everyone was back in their clothes she led the kids through another baking adventure, this time to make a cake that looked like a sand castle, topped by real shells. Remember, this is how she "relaxes."
Diane and the kids put on a play for our final night's entertainment, something to do with kids taking over the town and saving everyone from a volcano.
Of course we can't end a beach trip without one of those family photos like you see in the kiosks at the mall, with everyone wearing white and looking all tan and perfect...or can you?
Diane, Abby, Bailey, and Sellers test the timer on the camera.
The Frakers get a photo that belongs over the fireplace.
The Hills...well, okay, maybe over the washing machine?
Even with five children and six adults, miracles do happen.
Luckily for us the vacation didn't quite end when the housekeepers showed up at 10:00 AM, mops in hand, to remind us we don't actually own this house and never could. Francis and Diane graciously spent one more night with us drinking wine and polishing off Season One of 30 Rock. Only Sunday was the vacation really over.
Crepes, the official final breakfast for visitors to Turtle Hall Farms.
Sellers and Diane share one last moment.
Ditto Abby and Francis.
Julian subtly demonstrates to Diane how he feels about her departure.
Alas, school did start the last week in August. New Hanover County, in some kind of cruel joke, began school on a Tuesday, which meant Abby and Sellers split Monday between being bored to tears in Mommy's office and bored senseless in mine. Tuesday was a welcome relief to all parties.
The first-day-of-school Port City Java run has now become a tradition.
Labor Day we had Jim Harris and his boys and Sandra Hall and hers over for burgers and baked beans. Margaret also began her spring cleaning (hey, we're busy okay?) by opening a can on the playroom.
Sandra Hall, Karen Vogel, and Margaret hang out on the fringes of Weaver World.
Hill and Harris children watch a movie in the newly redesigned play room.
That morning I'd had to interrupt my morning run to return home with this little guy, a Pine Woods snake according to a highly informative snake identification website:
The second week of school started uneventfully Tuesday, but rumblings of Hurrican Hanna were in the air, and everyone was watching the monster swirling ever closer on the satellite images. Thursday was sunny and gorgeous, but people were dusting off their emergency action plans up and down the coast, and we knew there would be neither school nor daycare Friday. Thankfully one of Julian's daycare teachers was available since Margaret and I were both in our offices that morning. You never know with storms, but it turns out after closing Cape Fear Pediatrics for the second half of the day I was able to take the kids to Target through no more than the occasional cloudburst.
We moved Flop Night to Thursday, since the prospect for stromboli delivery Friday was in question.
Hanna, fortunately, never did make it into hurricane territory. She remained a tropical storm, although she did knock out our power for about six hours starting at 3:30 AM.
We've been here long enough to have a routine for hurricanes. The kids sleep on an airbed in the family room and Margaret and I take to the couches around them. This time we added popcorn and chocolate chip cookies, which I'm sure will be requested again.
The kids awoke Saturday to the sound of the generator running, a necessity for anyone who can't live without a hot cup of coffee or the peace to drink it that can only be bought by Saturday morning cartoons.
Leaf trash litters everything, but all the trees are standing.
Our neighborhood is already friendlier than most, but a storm brings people out like ants from a kicked-over hill. Jeff Weaver and his son Jack had already completely cleaned an elderly neighbor's yard before coming home to take a crack at their own and ours. Over a chorus of whines I shut off the television and "encouraged" Abby and Sellers to take up yard implements. (I have to confess to some hypocrisy here: as a child I absolutely detested yardwork, and even though it's my yard it's still a task I take on only out of shame.) With the aid of Jeff's gas-powered leaf blower and commercial lawnmower we had the yards looking better than they ever do when we haven't had a storm.
Abby entertains Julian while the adults continue to tackle yard debris.
Margaret, with her can of whup-ass still open, used the long weekend to continue her spring cleaning, this time going after the nightmare that was the attic. A dusty pile of defunct boxes, broken electronics, and neglected children's toys wound up a bright, clear, dust-free, organized space. But it's still stultifyingly hot up there.
And that's it for today's Wilmington Weekend Update/Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom. If you need to store some stuff, just come by. We have space in our attic, and our yard is pristine.
No comments:
Post a Comment