Soapbox

   What do you do on a warm day in early June when you’re babysitting a 6 year old?

  Pick strawberries!

  I grabbed the sunscreen, water, snacks, a hat for each of us and off I went with my nephew Andy to a farm a few miles outside of town to pick our own berries. After some very serious conversation on exactly which row was the most likely to yeild the best harvest, we started picking.
   Soon both of us were stained pink on fingers and knees by these rich, ripe berries.  From time to time Andy would peek into my basket and notice somberly how many more were in my basket then his, so I would quietly pour a few handsfull into his basket. We tried to see who could find the biggest and who could find the smallets, most perfect berry, and duly admired each others discoveries.These are the sweetest variety  I’ve ever tasted, and we couldn’t resist popping them, still warm and tasting like sunshine, into our mouths as we picked.
   Across the farm road there was a pond with some very vocal bullfrogs which we enjoyed listening to, and a horse farm just beyond that, whose residents put in an occasional appearance at the fence. Red-wing blackbirds were everywhere and from the tree at the edge of the road we were entertained by the most vocal mocking bird with the largest repertoire I have ever heard.
  Of course at age 6, the delights of finding the perfect berry ran out well before I had all I wanted for jam, but he offered no complaints. When he got tired of picking Andy sat down happily between the rows, munching the snack I brought him and holding forth on the lemonade stand he wants to set up on his street this summer and the different animals he saw at the zoo on his last trip.

The farmer came by just as we were done and gave us a ride back to the barn on the tail gate of his pick-up truck: swinging our legs and singing “I can’t see me lovin’ nobody but you for all my life” as we bumped down the road and hung on to the strawberry baskets.
When we got back I got out the collander and showed him how to use the sprayer attached to the sink. He thought it was so much fun that he washed them all for me. Sweet deal.  Tomorrow I’ll bake fresh bread, and that’s probably what I’ll have for lunch: strawberries and bread.

After lunch we sat at the computer and watched roller coaster videos from parks all over the country for almost an hour, with time out for me to get my tape measure and determine that he is (in his sneakers) 49" tall! Dude- he can ride the Vortex at King’s Island! High Fives all around.

It was a lovely day, and much improved by the company of a sweet and clever little blond boy, as most days would be.  I had forgotten how lovely it is to spend time with a happy little boy. I am sadly short on them in my life right now, what with mine about to turn 21 and all. So it’s good that I can borrow my sister’s from time to time.

    Yesterday morning we signed the contract for our new roof.  I was discussing with the roofer the trees that are growing up along one side of the house and will make their job tough. I told him I have been working on cutting them back since he came out a few weeks ago for the estimate and mentioned them to us. I wasn’t sure if I would get finished though, because that all I have is a little hand saw, and it takes a LONG time for a woman  to climb up on a ladder, cut those big branches off and then cut them up small enough for the yard waste people to take them away! Plus it keeps raining.
     "I'll do my best, if the weather clears up" I promised.
   After the roofer left we went out to lunch together, and as we were going back to the car, Ted put his arm around me and said "Come on: let's to go Home Depot and buy you a chain saw!"

And we did!

    Damn: my very own chain-saw! How awesome is that?!  I am totally psyched. One of my favorite parts of going out to help Dad work at the cabin all these years (Ok, besides the father-daughter bonding, yada yada yada) was getting to use his chain saw.  Mine is electric, of course. My trees aren't that big or numerous that I need one of those gas-powered monsters. And this one is not too heavy for me to wield safely.

Katie came downstairs this morning and wandered into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes.
   “Mom- is there a chain saw in the living room?”
    I grinned.
   “Isn’t it awesome? Your Dad bought it for me! Wanna saw crap down with me today? Have a little mother-daughter bonding?”
    “Uhh…” she looked skeptical, then thought for a minute.
    No doubt she was remembering wielding the skil saw in the scene shop. But she has rehearsal for Chorale and then a theatre meeting. So I called Becky because I figured she’ll be geeked about it, but she’s not home. Oh man- I hate it when there’s no one to play with! Ted is sure that when he gets home tomorrow, there won’t be a tree left standing in the yard, but I know how to control myself.

   Jason came to get Katie about 5, and they came out to the yard where I was working to tell me when they’d be back. I showed them my saw and the limbs I was cutting up.
   “Do you want to use it before you go?” I asked Katie.
    “No, thanks.”
    “Really?”
    “I… have a tendency to break things” she said, and laughed. I looked at Jason, who was staring at the ground, avoiding eye contact.
    “Jason, …” I said teasingly, “ Do you want to cut some stuff in two?”
  “….Ummmmaaaaybe” he said, and grinned. Katie rolled her eyes “Well it looks cool!” he protested.

    “It’s very cool” I assured him in a "what does she know?"  tone, and showed him how. He cut a log in half, smiled as he handed me back the chainsaw and off they went to their bar-b-que. 

   A word of advice gentlemen: never underestimate the aphrodisiac effect of a power tool.  They are a whole different animal than household appliances.
    Sure a good vacuum is nice to have, but as a gift it says, "When I think of you, I think of housework". Not the message you want to send.
    Jewelry is nice: it says "I love you enough to spend money on you for something that is utterly useless" but what if it's really not her style? Who wants to admit they don't like a diamond?

     But a power tool is, well, empowering! When your man hands you your very own chainsaw, he is saying "Darling, you are a strong, competent woman, and small trees tremble at your approach."
     Zing!

    Tool belts are pretty hot, too.

Today is the 18th of April. In addition to being Paul Revere Day, it is my daughter’s half-birthday. This means that 6 exactly months from today, my baby will be an adult.

Gulp.

I mentioned this to her this afternoon as she was driving herself home from school, and she rolled her eyes like I was telling her the sky is blue. Apparently this is something she is keeping a close eye on.

    "Yeah, I was making a list of all the things I can legally do, once I’m 18" she said.
    "Like…?"
    "I can vote. I can join the military, I can get married- I was going to say I can have sex whenever I want to, but I think in Ohio the age of consent is 16, which is just dumb if you ask me… "

Yeah, me too. And anyway kid- you can never have sex whenever you want to. Life doesn’t work that way.

    "You can sign documents and consent to surgery, run for office, at least most local ones, and get a loan." I offered.
    "I don’t have to obey juvenile curfews, and I can buy cigarettes, and I can get a tattoo or something weird pierced, if I want" she commented, changing lanes.
    "Oh, and don’t forget that when you’re 18 your parents can kick you out of the house and make you support yourself." I added cheerfully . "Just in case you’re considering the tattoo thing."

Wow. 18. What an auspicious occasion that will be. Life changes when you turn 18, right? I think back on the big, important changes in my life after I turned 18… ummm, well…Ok,  life didn’t really change much at all. I finished high school, which was nice, and got to move out of the house into a dorm for a year. That made a bit of a difference in how much of an adult I perceived myself to be. Of course the next year I was back home again, so it was short-lived independence. Back then 18 year olds could buy "low beer", but I hated beer, so I never did.

Truth be told, 18 sounded like a big deal, but it turned out not to really feel like one. (Not nearly as big a deal as I think 50 is going to be!) There was still so much growing up left to do; at least for me there was. I think the biggest "You have arrived" moment for me was getting my first book of checks, and then my credit card. A credit card meant you were definitely an adult!  We pay for it, but technically, Katie has had a credit card for a year and a half, and while she’s responsible about it, boy does she know how to use it! I think that in many ways, she is more grown up now than I was at 19 or 20.

And here I am on a gorgeous spring day when my youngest child, my little Katie Belle is 6 months from legal adulthood.
Which makes me 6 months from…. ?
Uh oh. Best not to go there.

The traditional question is always, "Will March come in like a lion or a lamb?" This year it has come in like a lunatic.

A few days ago it was 60 degrees. I say this just to torture myself, as I look out at the snow blowing almost sideways past my window. They say it’s about done. Let’s hope so.
Friday morning I drove Katie in to school around 11:00 (it’s testing week, and she doesn’t have to take that test) and the snow, while micro-fine and fairly light seemed determined.

"I smell an early release" she said as I pulled up at the school.
"Listen Kate- call me when school lets out. I know I said it was OK, but if this keeps up, I don’t want you going out with your friends this afternoon."
A few hours later I was out front shoveling when Jason’s car pulled up into it’s traditional slot at the curb. I expected him to just let her out and scoot on home, but he stopped the car and they both got out.
"Oh my God!" Katie said as she approached me. "That was an adventure!"
"Are the roads bad?"
"Well, when you’re doing that pumping the brake thing," Jason said "…and you’re still sliding out into the intersection anyway… what should you do?"
"Pray, basically" I said. "Look, don’t try to drive home. Call your mom, and if she wants, I can drive you home."

After several conversations (that apparently involved discussion along the lines of "Since when does come straight home mean after you drop your girlfriend off at her house?") it was decided that Ted, who was leaving the office straightaway, would drive Jason home in his SUV. Then it took Ted about 90 minutes to make a 20 minute drive, and so it was that Jason became snowbound at his girlfriend’s house for the duration of the blizzard of 2008. This was a real hardship for them both, as you can imagine. I told his mother not to worry: he is safe and quite welcome, and we’ll all be fine as long as the cocoa holds out. Fortunately, with Steve off at school in Athens, we even have a spare bed (once I got all the ironing off of it).

Saturday morning the micro-snow of the day before was replaced with big, fat flakes, moving steadily in from west to east. The sidewalk that I had shoveled twice the day before was not only covered- it was gone. The cars were ghostly white lumps in the driveway.
I opened the refrigerator and cupboards and took stock. Bread, cheese, apples, frozen dinners galore…but I was snowbound with 2 teenagers and no junk food in the house. Oooh, and almost no milk, either. When the weather weenies had been predicting on Friday morning that the sky was falling, I had dismissed it as their usual hoo-hah and (unlike most of Columbus, no doubt) I had not rushed out to buy groceries and driveway salt. Then, overnight, the sky fell.

Who knew they’d be right for once?

"I’m going to the store to buy milk." I announced.
"What? You’re crazy!" Ted said.
"Don’t worry- I’ll walk. I’ll go to the Speedway at 161 and Maple Canyon. They’re probably open."
"It’s blizzarding. We don’t need milk that much. You could freeze!"
"I”ll be fine" I said.
Katie was up, and not expecting Jason to be functional for quite some time. "I’ll go with you" she decided.
"You’re both nuts" her father declared.
"It’ll be an adventure" she said, clearly a child after my own heart in some small way. She set out towels and some trial sized toiletries for Jason and we suited up. Knights preparing for the joust were no more carefully decked out than were we, preparing to do battle with a blizzard. We each took a small knapsack to put "supplies" in and, with chemical heat packs down our gloves as the final safeguard, we stepped out into the elements.

It really wasn’t too bad. After all, we were in residential Columbus Ohio, not out on the prairie, but it was a bit eerie with the streets so empty and quiet. We walked down the tire tracks in the middle of the street, since the sidewalks were over our boot tops in many places. It was tricky going- like walking in deep sand, but not that cold, and really, not that windy. As we walked we chatted, first about Katie’s college plans and the fact that the college she most wants (University of Chicago) doesn’t actually offer her major (Architectural engineering) and what she plans to do about that. In no time we approached the intersection with Route 161 and the Speedway station there.
Our neighborhood might seem almost deserted but the gas station was hopping. Cars were filling up at all the pumps, and more were waiting in line. As we watched a line of mail trucks left the post office across the street and headed out to fulfill their promise of "neither rain nor sleet" and try to get the mail out. Loud voices called our attention to the fact that a lot of cars were having trouble getting up the small incline that led to the intersection itself, and people were out and pushing in more than one spot. We watched for a minute, and then headed inside.

"Anything you want, Mommy will buy for you" I told Katie as she pushed her ski goggles up and looked around.
"Cool" she said and started filling her arms. I got a half gallon of milk and then perused the junk food. 2 teenagers, 2 days… plus I was going to need shoveling fuel myself….
$19.74 cents later we loaded up our backpacks and headed out again, secure in the knowledge that we had enough Pepsi, Fritos, doughnuts and Gatorade to last 36 hours. On the way home we stopped several times to help stranded motorists, the first stuck out front, trying to turn into the Speedway parking lot. As we pushed, I heard a familiar (and usually beloved, on days like this) sound and looked up to see a triumverate of snowplows moving down Route 161… and plowing all the cars and mail trucks struggling to get free at the intersection under 3 feet of snow! We laughed. After all, we were smart enough to walk!

We made it there and back in less than an hour, even with time out for pushing. Katie was right: it was an adventure! Next up: the driveway. I shoveled periodically throughout the day, but the snow was heavy and the drifts so daunting that even an enthusiastic shoveler like me was discouraged. Even the folks with snow blowers were having a rough time of it. Katie and Jason helped me  for a few minutes but were soon distracted by the idea of building a ramp at the top of our small hill, thereby providing extra speed for their sleds. (I had been hoping for some snow fort action like in days of old, but apparently that’s kid stuff.)

It’s getting dark now, and the snow is tapering off. Tomorrow I probably have to work, so I’ll have to finish off the driveway in the morning, and Jason will need to go home eventually, if just to get clean clothes. I’m sure he and Katie will have many more fond memories of this blizzard than I do of my blizzard of ’78, which I was just recalling a few short weeks ago.
My how time flies. Some things never change, though. Junk food is still absolutely required to make it through a blizzard.

No school today: snow day.

I remember when snow days used to be so fun! They were pretty few and far between back in the day, when it rarely snowed much in Athens. but once in a while the alarm would go off and I could tell, just from the quality of the light filtering in the window and the hushed sound of passing cars that there was snow on the ground. And on really, really special days, when all the planets were in aligment, the radio would be inn the middle of announcing school closings as it came on, and I wouldn’t even have to get out of bed! I would just roll over and pull the covers higher and smile all the way back to sleep.
I do recall one winter, probably 75 or 76, when we had a pretty heavy snow. They were building the new bypass into Athens, and hundreds of yards of on and off-ramps were built and paved…and not yet opened. Barb Salyer and I dragged our sleds all the way to the highway and spent the day sledding those ramps like they were olympic luge runs. It was excellent! When I got home, I thought I had frostbite in my toes, but it was worth it! That was a snow-day to remember!

But snow days were almost as much fun when the kids were little. I was one of those fortunate mothers who didn’t hear the school closings and think "Crap! Now what am I going to do with the kids?" Mine was the house where people brought their kids. I was also one of those oddball parents who felt sad when summer ended and my best friends, my children, were away from home all day. So a snow day was a treat for both of us. Sleep in late, pancakes for breakfast, and now what, guys? Build a snow fort in the front yard? Grab the sleds and head to Sharon Woods park? Or just take the dogs for a romp? We had some wonderful times on snow days, because they were special: an unexpected gift of time together.

I am also one of those weird people (are you sensing a theme here?) who likes to shovel snow. Well, up to a point, of course. I"m sure if I lived in Buffalo N.Y. I wouldn’t be nearly as fond of it.  When it snows all day and I have to shovel repeatedly, I am a happy, if tired, person. One day last year we had a good hard snow, followed by rain. When I went out to shovel, the snow cracked lose in great jagged chunks in front of the shovel. As I stooped to lift one out of the way, it struck me how interesting it looked…

People were slowing down and stopping to take pictures of my yard by late afternoon, because it was filled with snow sculptures, entitled things like "The White Queen" and "Snowhenge" and "Nude Descending a Staircase". My daughter, no longer as entranced with snow as when she was younger, stood at the window eating cookies and watched my labors… and shook her head.

But come on! You’ve got to have fun on a snow day!