Author: Melissa

Monkey absolutely loves life on vacation so far.  He wakes up and a breakfast of his choosing is served by whatever adult happens to be in the kitchen (and there is always an adult in the kitchen at camp.)  This morning it was toast, one slice with peanut butter and one with homemade strawberry jam (made two days ago, it’s delicious) and hot chocolate.  The only slight hitch was when he looked into his mug of hot chocolate and then looked back at me, “Fluff?”  Oops.  Grammy & Co. will rectify that oversight today when they go to the local IGA.

After breakfast there are hours and hours of playing ball.  The best part is that there are so many grown-ups around that there is a new one to step in each time he exhausts one!  Yay for endless playmates!  If playing ball ever gets boring (hey, it could happen) there are always rocks needing to be thrown into the brook, butterflies to be chased and dogs to be teased.  Earlier Grampa dug out a beach ball about ¾’s the size of the Monkey-man so the chances of ball playing getting to be boring today are slim to none.  I’m not going to break that bit of news to my nephew who has been on ball duty for 3 hours now.  Oh, to be 18 again!  Ha!

Have ya’ll ever had a Trashcan Turkey?  I know how it sounds but it is yummy!  The turkey is placed vertically on a spit stuck into the ground.  A small galvanized trashcan is placed upside down over the turkey.  Then BBQ briquettes are placed around the outside base of the trashcan and on top of the inverted can and it’s left to cook for a couple of hours.

I’m a little vague on deciding the doneness of the turkey but I know it involves either the beginning or cessation of some noise or other.  Clearly, I’m not a qualified trashcan chef.   Fortunately, there are a number of folks here with us who do know how the process works.   No one of us has ever died from food poisoning after consuming one so they must know what they’re doing, right?  One year the poor little turkey came out rather…mummified…but the technique has since been refined.

Lunch will be a well-executed potluck -style meal for, errr, 12, I think.  Trashcan turkey, pasta salad, stuffing and strawberry cupcakes with cream cheese frosting are on the menu.  There will probably be other stuff too, if there is one thing we know how to do here it is eat.   Oh, and drink.  Cocktails will start on the deck at lunch today; and will continue until bedtime, lol.

I’m hoping bedtime comes a little bit earlier tonight than it did last night.  After putting Monkey to bed about ½ hour late we all went about our business.  Around 10 PM he called me upstairs, I tried to get him to sit by the campfire but it was a no-go.  I think he was freaked out by the dark.  “Dark” up here, far from any town, is a lot darker than “dark” at home surrounded by thousands and thousands of homes and streetlights.  I’m fairly sure he never got more than two hours of uninterrupted sleep.

I wonder if there is any chance he’ll nap?  Not really.  I’m acutely aware that he’ll be up until 7:30 or 8 again tonight, no matter how painful it is for all involved.

**Updated later**

Cocktails started promptly but the turkey took a bit longer than expected.  That is my excuse for, uh, smearing whipped cream in MY MOTHER’S FACE shortly after we finished.  In my (very limited) defense, she had been laughing at me because my perfectly styled whipped cream had just fallen off my cupcake and landed on the counter.  She was totally dissing me, within arms-reach even, and I had had cocktails (plural!)  I’m an awful daughter.  She’s promised revenge, though, so at least we know where I get it from.

Do you know what happens when you spend a day in the sun, forget to drink water and then finish off the day with 2 glasses of wine?  Ouch.  But…nothing some Excedrine and an icepack couldn’t fix!  The good part of waking up at 5:45AM with a pounding head?  Uh, not much, really.  But! I did get to see my brother and nephew, who arrived 5 minutes after I walked up the stairs last night, before they headed out for a day of fishing!

One might think I would have gone down to greet them, and I totally would have but…did you catch that bit about the wine?  I probably would have hurt myself.   Used to be, I could have had the entire bottle and managed the stairs but I’m all “grown up” now and my tolerance is not what it once was.  So, I decided I would just apologize in the morning.  Not that either of them gave a hoot.

I’m not entirely sure my nephew was even conscious enough this morning to realize we weren’t all just bits of his own personal nightmare but he was a good egg and joined Grampa, Jr. and Sr. ((Duhdee and my brother share a name.  They have both so far stubbornly refused to accept my nicknaming of them.  Party poopers.)) out on the boat. Though, ultimately, the day of fishing was a failure.  The newly repaired boat, still not so newly repaired.  My dad is pretty bummed out.  He hasn’t spent the day on the lake since Memorial Day weekend and it looks like it will be awhile yet.  The repair shop, which is a 2 ½ hour drive from camp (each way), doesn’t reopen until Tuesday.  *Sigh*

Earlier today Monkey went in to town with Grammy and Auntie for the parade.  I had to stay home and read.  Woe is me.  After they returned we spent time riding on Grampa’s quad, chasing each other with squirt guns and throwing Monkey’s ball up on the roof.  Oh, also, I spent some time making Monkey cry.  I am so mean.  Do you want to know what I did?  It was awful.  I made water balloons.  And then…we threw them…not at him.  Just up, so they’d do what water balloons are designed to do…which is break, right?  Monkey…not a fan.  He’d throw one and then yell, “Oh, no!  What happened?”  Then he grabbed another and another and another…until he was crying and had snot running down his face.  I thought he might stop but, well, no.

Now, he’s upstairs talking to Barley though he is supposed to be sleeping.  Everyone else has gone into town for the fireworks but they start well after bedtime so we didn’t want to risk it with Monkey.  I’m going to grab one of my 18 remaining books while Duhdee plays in the fire outside.  I’d join him but I’ve hit my bug bite max for the day…maybe for the week.  I hate horseflies, but I still love vacation.

I love vacation.  Srsly.  After sleeping in, while my sister and my husband begged, bribed and threatened Monkey into leaving me alone, I woke to breakfast (eggs to order, though Duhdee was unaware of that until, uh, whenever he reads this) and then a whole long, lazy day of NOTHING.  Did I mention how much I love vacation?

We did spend some time on the lake in Grampa’s newly “repaired” boat today.  Monkey was so, so excited.   He took what is normally Duhdee’s seat in the boat and relegated us to the back seats.  After cruising the length of the lake, the newly “repaired” boat let us know that it wasn’t quite 100%.  When Grampa left it to idle, it stalled.  And then it gave us enough trouble restarting that I asked my dad if he carried OARS.  FYI, he does not and he was not amused by the question ((There are in fact oars on the boat, Grampa just wasn’t up to answering at the time.)).

He got the boat running again and we cruised the length of the lake, again.  He stopped to call the gentleman who’d “fixed” the boat while we sat enjoying the soothing sounds (and smells) of a backfiring 2 stroke engine.  Gosh, I hope no one was trying to fish, or anything.  The advice?  Uh, drive some more…faster.  So, we did.  And Monkey, at least, loved it.  He spent the entire time saying, “Grampa, splash!”  Shockingly enough, this did not magically fix the engine!  I know, right?  Whatevs.  I think Grampa fixed it once we got it back to camp.  Hopefully…since he and Duhdee are headed out fishing tomorrow at some ridiculous hour.  It would really suck if it’s going to conk out 20 miles from home again.

Monkey was not entirely excited when we got home but when I tried to say goodbye before Duhdee and I left to go in town for some (more) groceries he nearly melted down, “I wan stay here!” Fine by me!  It gave us a chance to scarf down some gourmet Whoopie Pies (almost) unobserved.  Yum!  There is at least one gentleman in town fully aware of what massive dorks Duhdee and I are.  He witnessed the splitting of the Whoopie Pies in the parking lot and was still laughing at us when we drove off.  I guess, if I were truly embarrassed, I wouldn’t have waved at him when I first realized he was laughing at us.

Tonight, after a dinner of moose steak (really and truly, Grampa shot it, even), salad and peas from our garden at home we uh…sat….and talked….and uh….had two glasses of wine.   OK, I had two glasses of wine.  Happy?  Now we’re just sitting here, trying like hell to stay conscious until a reasonable hour.

Now someone is, oh, never mind.  I was going to say, someone is shooting a gun off nearby and, to prove we’re not at home, no one is the least bit worried.  Not that it would matter if we were, 911…not so much here.  But, I was informed it’s just fireworks.  So…disregard.

Oh, look!  It’s 9:30.  All the coolest kids go to bed at 9:30 on a Friday night, right?  Oh, shut up.  We are so not old!

I’ve been collecting little moments in my head that I should blog but they’re such small moments I can’t figure out how to make a whole post out of any one of them.  So, here’s a little collection of moments…list style.

• One recent morning, I asked Monkey if he was hungry and he said, “Hungy, capiller.”  “Are you a hungry caterpillar?”  “Yes!”  Hee.  He then informed me that hungry caterpillars eat “Crunch (Cinnamon Toast Crunch), milk, and ‘gurt (yogurt.)”  Who knew?  It certainly wasn’t in the book I read.
• One recent evening, he was reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar to me and said…”Booful, buffly!”  Which, is not new, what was new was when followed up that statement with “Mommy, two bufflies.”  There weren’t but that’s the first time he’s ever used a plural and he nailed it!
• One distant evening, we took Monkey out for dinner at our favorite restaurant.  As we walked up to the door, he saw an elderly gentleman standing by the door.  Instead of hiding he looked the man square in the face and said, “Hi, Grampy!”
• After he greeted this complete stranger so nicely, he then knocked on the door to the restaurant rather than walking right in.  Now we just need to convince him that he doesn’t have to knock at a restaurant but that he should knock on the bathroom door at home…
• After we opened the door for him, he walked in and greeted each of the servers and the hostess at the hostess stand.  He also greeted every person we walked past on our way to our booth.  He greeted the cute high school girls sitting in the booth behind Duhdee several times…naturally.
• When we were in a toy store recently, Monkey picked a toy off the shelf.  It was a craft activity and, under normal circumstance, I would have bought it for him  just because he asked but I thought it was going to be a little too difficult for him to do and would frustrate him/go to waste so I said no.  Once I convinced him that we were not going to buy that craft, he pouted and refused all other suggested replacements.  He’s never done that before!  Most people wouldn’t cheer that but it is more developmentally advanced that we’ve seen in the past.  So, yay!
• Monkey has picked up a new saying.  Actually, he’s picked a few  new sayings but  most are not appropriate so…we’ll skip those. Though one of the really, highly inappropriate ones (that he saves for traffic jams) secretly cracks me up.  The one that he says all the time, that openly cracks me up, is “Oh, dear!”  He says it whenever anything goes wrong, unless it’s traffic related.  It’s such an old man thing to say, I find it endlessly amusing.
• Another saying that we heard recently that struck my funny bone is “Hi, fella!”  No idea where he picked that one up but he used it when talking to Copper which seems appropriate.  He said it in such a sweet voice too.
• I’ve been asking Monkey if he will let me cut his hair for a while now.  His hair, when it’s wet, comes down below his shoulders!  Good thing it’s so curly!  I’ve asked him so many times that he has a very emphatic “No” that he uses each time I ask now.  When I ask him if he likes his hair short or long, he tells me “wong.”  So, I guess he now has an opinion on his hairstyle.
• He’s started dressing himself more frequently and he has style opinions in that department as well.  The rule is, if it is seasonally appropriate, he can wear whatever he picks.  It makes my eyes cross some days to let him out of the house but we wanted him to be more independent…
• Speaking of more independent, he’s started refusing to hold our hands when we’re out and about.  Remembering the days when he was so uncertain about everything that he kept a death grip on my index finger whenever we left the house, it’s hard to believe that he actually refuses to hold hands at times.  If it’s safe, his preference is to walk a few feet in front of us now too.  I thought we had another 7 or 8 years before we had that particular issue pop up.  No matter how desperately I want him to gain that independence, my heart is not quite ready for this sight…

Phew.  OK, now I can clear out my “Draft Post” folder!  Go me!