by jphilo | Dec 15, 2014 | Family
Camp Dorothy has been a happening place since Christmas Camp commenced last Monday. So much happening, in fact, that the Man of Steel’s back became jealous enough to go out, just so the MOS could join the fun Thursday evening and stick around all weekend.
You heard it right.
Camp Dorothy had enough campers Friday to Sunday to outnumber the camp director (aka: camp cook, camp laundress, camp housekeeper, and camp nurse) two to one.
Twice the campers = twice the fun.
The weekend was a blur of campers in motion–Rummikub games, listening to or watching ISU basketball games, and eating–punctuated by long stretches of campers napping long and hard.
Thank you, God, for naps.
Before the MOS hunkered down at camp, the camp’s namesake tried, unsuccessfully, to teach the camp director the times and channels for her favorite TV shows: The Price Is Right, and Judge Judy, Wheel of Fortune. Equally unsuccessful was the camp director’s attempt to introduce her charge to Downton Abbey and Peter Pan Live. But they bonded during Big Bang Theory.
Thank you, Jim Parsons.
As for the picture above, stop by on Wednesday to learn what that was all about. Suffice it to say, the camp director is now the camp namesake’s favorite child, thanks to some kitchen magic.
Uh-oh! The nappers are rising. Got to run!
by jphilo | Sep 20, 2012 | Three Thoughts for Thursday
- Waiting for the grandbaby to arrive lacks the physical discomfort of the last months of pregnancy with our kids, but the waiting is just as hard. Any time now, Baby Philo, any time.
- Thanks to the networks’ policy of randomly scheduling series premiers whenever the spirit moves them, I missed the first episode of Parenthood and am waiting impatiently until September 27 for an update on The Big Bang Theory gang. Sometimes, I wish the networks still premiered all their new shows in the same week, like in the olden days…but with the option of online viewing to miss the political ads, of course.
- A tinge of soup weather’s been in the air the last few days. My three favorite homemade varieties are potato, turkey tortilla, and ham and bean. Yours?
by jphilo | Apr 16, 2012 | Walking Down the Gravel Road
Ever since The Big Bang Theory’s Sheldon Cooper created the word “prevening” to refer the hours in late afternoon hours and early evening, I’ve been waiting for a chance to coin a word, too. The crazy weather of the last six weeks – our April-like March and now our March-like April – provided the perfect opportunity to combine the two into one new month.
I call it Marpril.
The original plan was to flip flop the order of the two months, putting April in front of March from now on. It seemed like a good solution last week during March-in-April when three nights of hard frost did damage to the magnolia tree’s leaves rather than to the blossoms as usually happens. But this year, the magnolia tree bloomed and dropped it’s petals during April-in-March. But, the flip flop plan died during this past weekend’s normal rootin’ tootin’ April weather display, complete with wind, thunder, lightning, rain, and tornadoes. Hence, my elegant, new word solution emerged.
Marpril
A lovely word, don’t you think? But a dark side hides behind the loveliness. In Marpril, frost can shrivel magnolia leaves. It can turn crab apple blossoms brown,
put an end to dreams of cherry picking in June,
blacken some peony buds while leaving others untouched,
and fill the rain barrel over and over and over.
Lovely, deceptive, and dangerous.
That’s our Marpril.
A month not to be trifled with nor savored. A month which seduce with warm temperatures during the prevening hours, then ushers in a cold front the minute your back is turned. A two month period, which could stretch into three. In which case I’m ready with another new word.
Maypril.
My words are gonna make the next edition of Webster’s. You can count on it. Which is more than can be said for March and April Marpril.
by jphilo | Feb 11, 2011 | Walking Down the Gravel Road
One of the things I like best about writing is being alone in our quiet house. Of course, an appreciation of quiet isn’t exclusive to writers. Parents dream of quiet while raising children. And elementary teachers, who spend their days surrounded by quivery masses of energy and noise, relish time alone. So as a writer, parent, and former teacher, my love of quiet aloneness may be triune in nature.
Thanks to nature, I am rarely alone in our old farmhouse on the edge of town. Because of this winter’s snow and cold, the deer who are usually content to hide in our neighbor’s woods have been stopping by for prevening* flower garden snacks on a regular basis. Some prevenings, they divide and conquer, surrounding the house while they munch the dry foliage in flowerbeds outside the living room, bedroom, and kitchen windows.
I don’t begrudge them a few dried hydrangea and marigold blossoms. But they start window peeking, it weirds me out. What is the cause of the look of longing in their chocolate brown eyes? Do they dream of coming inside, out of the cold? Or do they think I’ll strip down to my skivvies if they wait long enough?
When they get tired of waiting for a prevening floor show, which ain’t never gonna happen, they mosey over to our biggest, oldest evergreen tree. They’ve spent so much time pawing away the snow to graze on the dead grass below that the tree is ringed with hoof prints and bare patches. It looks like a mysterious crop circles, only this is a snow circle.
The hoof prints and the deer poop piling up around the perimeter is a pretty good clue that deer and not aliens are the cause of the phenomenon. But you never know with all the crazy alien abduction theorists looking for “mysteries” to exploit. It’s hard enough to get any writing done with deer chewing, burping, pooping, and window peeking. The last thing I need is a bunch of UFO paparazzi swarming around, looking for a new story. If that happens, I’ll have to fly to a warm, sunny, and deserted island to get any work done.
On second thought, maybe I should spread the UFO story.
Then I could pack my swimsuit and head for that deserted island.
Where it’s quiet
And warm.
And I can be alone.
Just don’t tell anybody where I’m going.
*Sheldon, of The Big Bang Theory, created the word prevening to “define the awkward hours between four thirty and six p.m. when it’s too late to be afternoon, but not yet evening.” I think it’s the best new word since “blog.”
