This morning I decided that I wanted to post something more uplifting than the last post about the economy. Perhaps pictures of my late fall garden, the apple harvest, the family cookout, a recipe. But no, I'm posting about my son's latest accident.
Ricky just left the house to visit a friend in Parkview Hospital and the phone rings. "Mom, I'm in the Canyons and my head hurts and my car is in the ditch."
Hoping for the best, I hopped in my car for the short ride to perhaps the most dangerous section of road in the county and found my son hurting but not injured. The car was smashed on every corner. I called 911 and they recommended an ambulance. A few minutes later I heard the siren and looked up the hill at the curve and saw a sheriff's car hit the same slick spot that sent Ricky into a guard rail and across the road into the ditch.
Except the sheriff's car went airborne, knocking down a small tree, and ended up teetering on a ridge. The ambulance showed up along with a fire truck. Then six sheriff's cars and two tow trucks. Poor Ricky was just shivering in the icy rain that was falling.
We're home. I'm monitoring Ricky in case of a concussion, but his vital signs are fine. He doesn't know how sore he is going to be tomorrow though. And we have to figure out the car situation so he can go to classes.
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Showing posts with label Teenage Sons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Teenage Sons. Show all posts
All By Myself
Remember when your toddler wanted to do it "all by myself?" Nothing changes when that toddler becomes a teenager. While the boys constantly test the limits of "all by myself," life is easier now that they independently mow the lawn, cook dinner (their menu of course), do the dishes, sweep the floor, do their own laundry. I'm afraid we will get used to this and then they will be gone and we will have to do it "all by ourselves" again.
Ron signed up to bring cookies to school today. Last night, as I was leaving the house for a meeting, he asked me if two sticks of butter equaled a cup. When I got home, he had stirred up and baked a large batch of chocolate chip cookies to take to school. He even pointed out that he washed the baking dishes and wiped the counter. That sure beats me staying up late to bake treats for school.
This morning, Ricky asked me when he could bake cookies "all by myself." Hmmm, Christmas baking may have gotten a whole lot easier.
Ron signed up to bring cookies to school today. Last night, as I was leaving the house for a meeting, he asked me if two sticks of butter equaled a cup. When I got home, he had stirred up and baked a large batch of chocolate chip cookies to take to school. He even pointed out that he washed the baking dishes and wiped the counter. That sure beats me staying up late to bake treats for school.
This morning, Ricky asked me when he could bake cookies "all by myself." Hmmm, Christmas baking may have gotten a whole lot easier.
Senior Busy Times
Despite the best efforts of the team, which included Ricky getting a Carroll Charger lightning bolt shaved into his head, the boys soccer team was stopped at the regional final game. Meanwhile Ron's activity in Jazz Choir is gearing up. He just joined this choir his senior year and he really enjoys it. The choir sang several numbers at the fall concert last Friday and were very good. Ron will be attending a two day workshop at Butler University next week.
Watch Out World
Ron has his driver's license as of an hour ago and he's just itching to drive without a parent. Our challenge now is to make him understand that a driver's license does not mean he can drive anytime, anywhere he wants. It also does not mean that we will give him his own set of keys.
Rick's broken hand slowed his driving progress a bit. He drove home the day the cast was removed. It was drizzling and he hadn't driven for over a month and it was rush hour. As we pulled up to a stoplight, a car stopped beside us and the driver gave us an angry look for the slow and rather erratic driving. Then he smiled as he saw the young man behind the wheel and the mother griping the dashboard.
Rick's broken hand slowed his driving progress a bit. He drove home the day the cast was removed. It was drizzling and he hadn't driven for over a month and it was rush hour. As we pulled up to a stoplight, a car stopped beside us and the driver gave us an angry look for the slow and rather erratic driving. Then he smiled as he saw the young man behind the wheel and the mother griping the dashboard.
On to the Regionals
Go Chargers! The boys won the soccer sectionals today and will play Wednesday night in the regionals. Ricky noted that they were only 4 games away from the state finals, but I reminded him that the only game that mattered was the next game.
Soccer Sectionals
We won the first game last night against Leo, so play in the championship game on Saturday against Bishop Dwenger, always a tough team. Ricky was put in during the last 2 minutes and had a perfect set-up for a goal with seconds left, but he missed it. The crowd went crazy with Ricky's near goal. Here are the seniors on the team. I can always spot Ricky on field, with his rec specs and headband. There is also a picture of the "round" I created for Ricky's locker this week as they gear up for the tournaments.
Fire-Up
Saturday night, Ricky invited the soccer team (and dates) to a bonfire to fire-up for Sectionals. It was a good bunch of kids and everyone had fun. It rained heavy all day but stopped half an hour before the party just as we were moving everything inside. There was a half moon and a sky full of stars.
Steve saw a shooting star and I told him to make a wish. He looked at me intensely and said, "I can't make a wish because I have all that a man could wish for." The boys groaned and muttered, "smooth," but I saw the look of pleasure in their eyes, the pleasure of hearing a man honor his wife.
They wanted Steve to play his dulcimer, but he was at the bottom of the hill. So I called him with our signal...I call him with an owl's call and he calls me with the bob-white call. So much nicer than yelling someone's name. My hoo-hooting startled the kids, but I had to giggle at Ricky's explanation, "Oh, that's Mom's mating call."
We mowed the wildflower meadow for the party. The asters were in full bloom and the butterfly weed pods were still green. I hope it doesn't harm the reseeding.
Steve saw a shooting star and I told him to make a wish. He looked at me intensely and said, "I can't make a wish because I have all that a man could wish for." The boys groaned and muttered, "smooth," but I saw the look of pleasure in their eyes, the pleasure of hearing a man honor his wife.
They wanted Steve to play his dulcimer, but he was at the bottom of the hill. So I called him with our signal...I call him with an owl's call and he calls me with the bob-white call. So much nicer than yelling someone's name. My hoo-hooting startled the kids, but I had to giggle at Ricky's explanation, "Oh, that's Mom's mating call."
We mowed the wildflower meadow for the party. The asters were in full bloom and the butterfly weed pods were still green. I hope it doesn't harm the reseeding.
Conference Champs!
Ricky's soccer team tied for first place in their conference. Now on to the sectional games, starting Thursday against Bishop Dwenger.
I discovered I love soccer, and not just because I have a son playing. I'm not much for spectator sports; there are too many other things I enjoy doing. But soccer is different. It's fast, it's furious, it's strategic and often a thing of beauty.
October already?
How did I miss September, one of my favorite months? Not in real life; it was full. But not a single post on either blog. Maybe I'll catch up on the posts I meant to write, such as my new adventures in vegetable gardening.
I picked the last (perhaps) eggplant, peppers and tomatoes last night and roasted them along with onions, garlic, basil in olive oil. It tickles me that Ricky raved about the dish. Ricky was a failure-to-thrive baby, who would hardly eat anything when we adopted him at about six years of age. Now he raves about roasted eggplant and is studying culinary arts. So there is hope for you mothers of picky eaters.
And here's a little story that I wrote in the comments of May Dreams Garden:
I picked the last (perhaps) eggplant, peppers and tomatoes last night and roasted them along with onions, garlic, basil in olive oil. It tickles me that Ricky raved about the dish. Ricky was a failure-to-thrive baby, who would hardly eat anything when we adopted him at about six years of age. Now he raves about roasted eggplant and is studying culinary arts. So there is hope for you mothers of picky eaters.
And here's a little story that I wrote in the comments of May Dreams Garden:
Several weeks ago an adolescent boy in line behind me at the store asked if I just got off work.
"Yes, did you ask because I'm so dirty and this logo on my shirt?"
"No," he said, "because there is a praying mantis in your hair."
Rite of Passage
Is the pursuit of moron projects hardcoded into men? Son comes up with a new moron project every day...all involving $200 cars. Of course, every $200 car needs a neon shift knob and an amplifier in the trunk. I'm beginning to think tearing apart an old car is a rite of passage into manhood and perhaps we need to let him clear a space in the barn for it.
This Weekend's Teen Milestones
Last night, I let Ron take my car to return several movies. At a busy intersection (Coldwater and Dupont), he came to a full stop and then turned right on red, judging that he had sufficient time to make the turn. Unfortunately, the car with the green light was speeding and, even more unfortunately, it was an unmarked police car. The lights went on and he was pulled over for the first time. No accident. No ticket. Just an "Are you in a hurry?"
This morning, I asked Ricky to warm up the car before church while I finished dressing. He came in a few minutes later to report that somehow the left rear brakelight and lens were broken. I went outside and found the car wedged up against the farm tractor. He decided to turn the car around while it was warming up and the tractor was parked in our usual turn-around spot.
This morning, I asked Ricky to warm up the car before church while I finished dressing. He came in a few minutes later to report that somehow the left rear brakelight and lens were broken. I went outside and found the car wedged up against the farm tractor. He decided to turn the car around while it was warming up and the tractor was parked in our usual turn-around spot.
Hidden Motives of Mothers (Teenage Version)
When I dropped Ron off at high school this morning, I pulled past the door so other cars could queue behind me. At least, I thought that was my reasoning. Apparently, I had a hidden motive.
"Geesh, Mom, why did you pull up so far, just to irritate me?" Door slam.
"I love you, too, son and have a great day," I responded to the empty seat.
He's in Day 2 of his graduate qualifying exam. Think he's stressed?
"Geesh, Mom, why did you pull up so far, just to irritate me?" Door slam.
"I love you, too, son and have a great day," I responded to the empty seat.
He's in Day 2 of his graduate qualifying exam. Think he's stressed?
Cars
With great joy, Ron reported to me that he found his car...for only $200! (Yes, that is the right number of zeros.) He plans to fix it up and then let me drive it. I'm such a lucky Mom.
Wild Pectin
My "go-to" cookbook for years has been The Joy of Cooking, because it includes so much background information. For example, the intro to jellies includes information about pectin. By using natural pectin, instead of commercial pectin such as Sure-Gel, jellies require about half the sugar resulting in an intense fruit flavor.
But the seven bags of Concord grapes on my counter are not high in pectin. The Joy gave several options for natural pectin for grape jelly: use under-ripe fruit, use wild grapes, add an apple. So here are the steps for making low-sugar grape jelly without commercial pectic:
1. Take a ride on the river.
Make a date with your husband to go to the St. Joseph River in the Western Lake Erie watershed. Nose the riverboat into shore and cut off (prune?) the vines until you have a large pile on the floor of the boat. Remove the clusters. Step on numerous tiny grapes (they are smaller than blueberries), staining the floor with unique patterns of reddish purple. Watch the moon rise as you head back to the landing. Some sweet smooching is required at this point.
2. Ignore all warnings posted on the blog of an Internet friend.
Google "wild grape jelly" and find this post by Kylee, which includes the money quote:
Yes, it takes a long time. Kylee is right. To break the monotony of this chore, make two batches of Concord jelly using some under-ripe fruit and half an apple to 8 cups of grapes. Making jelly with natural pectin requires a candy thermometer to know when the syrup reaches the sheet stage. If you are easily entertained, as I am, use the spoon method to test the jelly as well as the thermometer. Instead of the one or two minutes required with commercial pectic, this approach takes about 30 minutes of cooking.
4. Accept five bags of peaches and pears from brother.
At this point, you may be getting slightly insane, so when your brother calls and offers you peaches and pears from his orchard, resist the offer. Remember you still have four bags of grapes left on your counter. I didn't resist. My son drove over and collected the fruit so it could sit on my table. I ran out of counter room.
5. Cook, drain and strain the fruit.
The proportion of seeds to juice for wild grapes is about 10 times more than for Concord grapes. Empty the cooked wild grapes into a fine mesh strainer, listening for the clunk of seeds instead of the usual plop. For clear jelly, strain for 15 hours. Skip the straining if you are getting impatient or if you must use every last edible bit of these grapes.
6. Add sugar to grape juice and boil until it gels.
Add the sugar gradually, tasting the syrup until it is the right combination of sweet and tart. The wild grapes will gel in about ten minutes.
7. Seal in small jars.
It is important to use the smallest jars possible. This is precious stuff. Don't calculate the cost of each jar based on your consulting rate. You may weep.
8. Let your son lick the pan.
And smile knowingly when he raves about the taste.
But the seven bags of Concord grapes on my counter are not high in pectin. The Joy gave several options for natural pectin for grape jelly: use under-ripe fruit, use wild grapes, add an apple. So here are the steps for making low-sugar grape jelly without commercial pectic:
1. Take a ride on the river.
Make a date with your husband to go to the St. Joseph River in the Western Lake Erie watershed. Nose the riverboat into shore and cut off (prune?) the vines until you have a large pile on the floor of the boat. Remove the clusters. Step on numerous tiny grapes (they are smaller than blueberries), staining the floor with unique patterns of reddish purple. Watch the moon rise as you head back to the landing. Some sweet smooching is required at this point.
2. Ignore all warnings posted on the blog of an Internet friend.
Google "wild grape jelly" and find this post by Kylee, which includes the money quote:
The first thing I had to do was take all those tiny grapes off their stems. This job reminded me of shelling peas. It takes forever and a day of cleaning those before you get enough to feed two people one time.3. Spend five hours de-stemming the grapes.
Yes, it takes a long time. Kylee is right. To break the monotony of this chore, make two batches of Concord jelly using some under-ripe fruit and half an apple to 8 cups of grapes. Making jelly with natural pectin requires a candy thermometer to know when the syrup reaches the sheet stage. If you are easily entertained, as I am, use the spoon method to test the jelly as well as the thermometer. Instead of the one or two minutes required with commercial pectic, this approach takes about 30 minutes of cooking.
4. Accept five bags of peaches and pears from brother.
At this point, you may be getting slightly insane, so when your brother calls and offers you peaches and pears from his orchard, resist the offer. Remember you still have four bags of grapes left on your counter. I didn't resist. My son drove over and collected the fruit so it could sit on my table. I ran out of counter room.
5. Cook, drain and strain the fruit.
The proportion of seeds to juice for wild grapes is about 10 times more than for Concord grapes. Empty the cooked wild grapes into a fine mesh strainer, listening for the clunk of seeds instead of the usual plop. For clear jelly, strain for 15 hours. Skip the straining if you are getting impatient or if you must use every last edible bit of these grapes.
6. Add sugar to grape juice and boil until it gels.
Add the sugar gradually, tasting the syrup until it is the right combination of sweet and tart. The wild grapes will gel in about ten minutes.
7. Seal in small jars.
It is important to use the smallest jars possible. This is precious stuff. Don't calculate the cost of each jar based on your consulting rate. You may weep.
8. Let your son lick the pan.
And smile knowingly when he raves about the taste.
Teenage Sons
I have a category called teenage sons. I will have to change it to sons, because they are no longer teenagers. I started blogging when they were 13 and now they are 20. The last seven years have gone by quickly (and sometimes slowly).
It's a whole new parenting game, guiding them while letting them stand on their own. They are so eager to fly from the nest, but I want to help them avoid any big crashes. About the time I master this stage of parenting, they will be on to the next stage. But so it went in every previous stage.
It's a whole new parenting game, guiding them while letting them stand on their own. They are so eager to fly from the nest, but I want to help them avoid any big crashes. About the time I master this stage of parenting, they will be on to the next stage. But so it went in every previous stage.
Kitties
We've had two new additions to the household during the last month, both the result of son Ron seeing "Free Kittens" signs along the road.
First came Prince Tommy, a tiger tomcat, whose purpose in life is to reduce the mouse population around the homestead, especially this fall as the field mice seek warm shelter. Tommy likes to climb trees. He's affectionate and fun.
Then came a little black female kitty, with a white stripe down her forehead and white paws. She is one fast kitty, as you can tell from this picture I took of her.
I tried again. She was posing nicely until Tommy came along and they decided to romp.
Finally she hesitated and I got this picture.
First came Prince Tommy, a tiger tomcat, whose purpose in life is to reduce the mouse population around the homestead, especially this fall as the field mice seek warm shelter. Tommy likes to climb trees. He's affectionate and fun.
Then came a little black female kitty, with a white stripe down her forehead and white paws. She is one fast kitty, as you can tell from this picture I took of her.
I tried again. She was posing nicely until Tommy came along and they decided to romp.
Finally she hesitated and I got this picture.
Eighteen and I like it
Note: click link only if you want to play the song. I've been singing this Alice Cooper song for the last week, much to the consternation of husband and sons. It seemed appropriate given that I now have two eighteen-year olds in my home. When my sons protested my singing (and I'm sure it was the lyrics and not my voice), my husband said he couldn't stand the song when he was 18 and he still can't. Ignoring that it's Alice Cooper, I think it's this phrase that bothers them: "I'm a boy and I'm a man."
Happy Birthday, Ricky and Ron. I promise only to call you a man and not mention those times you act, sound and look like the little boys you still are sometimes.
Happy Birthday, Ricky and Ron. I promise only to call you a man and not mention those times you act, sound and look like the little boys you still are sometimes.
Sweet Sixteen
The twins turn 16 tomorrow. Every year is the "last" year for a party. So we are having a few guys over for swimming, movies, pizza, and games. Even though they are spending the night, it is no longer called a sleepover 'cause that is for kids.
"No dating until you are 16" has been our long-standing rule. Since they will have male guests when they turn 16, Ron asked a girl to a movie and dinner the next night. He didn't waste any time and all his father and I can do is look at each other in confusion. Of course, Mom has to drive and the girl hasn't accepted yet. He's trying to determine where to take her for dinner. "It has to be a nice place but not too nice." He decided against Burger King and is leaning toward a Chinese restaurant.
Oh, and he asked for money for his birthday to finance this date. He'll soon discover that dating can be expensive in several ways.
"No dating until you are 16" has been our long-standing rule. Since they will have male guests when they turn 16, Ron asked a girl to a movie and dinner the next night. He didn't waste any time and all his father and I can do is look at each other in confusion. Of course, Mom has to drive and the girl hasn't accepted yet. He's trying to determine where to take her for dinner. "It has to be a nice place but not too nice." He decided against Burger King and is leaning toward a Chinese restaurant.
Oh, and he asked for money for his birthday to finance this date. He'll soon discover that dating can be expensive in several ways.
"You sure are a good cook, Mrs. Earth Girl"
...so said one of my son's friends to me. I thanked him with a spontaneous smile and a welling pride.
Yes, I am a good cook. I learned from the best - my mother - and then honed my skills through Joy of Cooking, experimentation, observation and experience. Some of the dishes I prepared last week were pasta with pesto, chicken, and red peppers; spinach and ham quiche; apple coleslaw; polenta with portabello mushrooms; orange chicken salad. None qualify as gourmet, I suppose, but all were healthy and delicious and appreciated by my family.
I enjoy getting an idea for a dish, reading several recipes and then creating my own version. I remember getting upset with my mother when I was first married because she couldn't give me her soup recipe. She made the best soups ever but each time it was different based on ingredients on hand and whatever captured her fancy. I understand now and employ some of her basic soup-making techniques (homemade stock, fresh ingredients, and seasonings other than just salt and pepper).
So I was pleased that this teenager noticed my cooking. But pride goeth before a fall. He then added, "You make the best macaroni and cheese." That dish, dear reader(s), was not my recipe using bechamel sauce and several types of cheese, but it was prepared by my son using the Kraft Macaroni and Cheese box.
Yes, I am a good cook. I learned from the best - my mother - and then honed my skills through Joy of Cooking, experimentation, observation and experience. Some of the dishes I prepared last week were pasta with pesto, chicken, and red peppers; spinach and ham quiche; apple coleslaw; polenta with portabello mushrooms; orange chicken salad. None qualify as gourmet, I suppose, but all were healthy and delicious and appreciated by my family.
I enjoy getting an idea for a dish, reading several recipes and then creating my own version. I remember getting upset with my mother when I was first married because she couldn't give me her soup recipe. She made the best soups ever but each time it was different based on ingredients on hand and whatever captured her fancy. I understand now and employ some of her basic soup-making techniques (homemade stock, fresh ingredients, and seasonings other than just salt and pepper).
So I was pleased that this teenager noticed my cooking. But pride goeth before a fall. He then added, "You make the best macaroni and cheese." That dish, dear reader(s), was not my recipe using bechamel sauce and several types of cheese, but it was prepared by my son using the Kraft Macaroni and Cheese box.
The Rewarding End
It is amazing how tranquil the home feels when it is organized.
Room 1
The boys' computer room also serves as the exercise room. The newly painted room is furnished with the computer desk and two chairs, exercise bike and mats, and three bookshelves. The very old and battered metal closet doors are discarded for an open storage area for their "stuff." Adding the rug, window treatment and some pictures completes the room for now, although I would like to change the window treatment at some point.
Room 2
The brass bed is in the larger bedroom with dresser, nightstand, bookshelf and desk. Today I purchased a new comforter and decorative pillow to complement the curtains. The pictures and accessories were hand selected by son, who has faithfully made his bed and picked up his laundry for about a week now. This is a small miracle. To complete the room all we need to do is hang the mirror.
Room 3
The other son has the twin bed and antique dresser. The room also includes a small desk and bookshelf. The closet is organized with 15 pairs of jeans and I didn't bother to count the shorts! His brother had a growth spurt first so he has all of his clothes plus his twin's hand-me-downs. Pictures are hung and the windows are finished. I still have a project to create a cosmic headboard for which I have all the material.
Perhaps I shouldn't be thinking about when we have an empty nest, but my plan is for one guest bedroom, a sewing/craft room for me and a room for hubby for exercise or whatever he wishes.
Room 1
The boys' computer room also serves as the exercise room. The newly painted room is furnished with the computer desk and two chairs, exercise bike and mats, and three bookshelves. The very old and battered metal closet doors are discarded for an open storage area for their "stuff." Adding the rug, window treatment and some pictures completes the room for now, although I would like to change the window treatment at some point.
Room 2
The brass bed is in the larger bedroom with dresser, nightstand, bookshelf and desk. Today I purchased a new comforter and decorative pillow to complement the curtains. The pictures and accessories were hand selected by son, who has faithfully made his bed and picked up his laundry for about a week now. This is a small miracle. To complete the room all we need to do is hang the mirror.
Room 3
The other son has the twin bed and antique dresser. The room also includes a small desk and bookshelf. The closet is organized with 15 pairs of jeans and I didn't bother to count the shorts! His brother had a growth spurt first so he has all of his clothes plus his twin's hand-me-downs. Pictures are hung and the windows are finished. I still have a project to create a cosmic headboard for which I have all the material.
Perhaps I shouldn't be thinking about when we have an empty nest, but my plan is for one guest bedroom, a sewing/craft room for me and a room for hubby for exercise or whatever he wishes.