LHOTR - I was expecting creepier

What was I expecting, Tales from the Crypt?

While staycationing at the little house, I braved ducking my head down into the crawl space under the house, and was relieved to see it was relatively clean down there. Dave asked if I was willing to go down under, and immediately my skin crawled and I said no way.

Fast forward to this past weekend. I had already baked the apple crumble and Will starts bugging me to go under the house. He has recently developed a taste for the creepy and was eager to see if our mini basement was creepy as well. Ok then...

I got the crawl space ladder out, put my shoes on, and we debated who would go down first. Suddenly, Will is a chicken. Fine, I'll go. It was a matter of taking a step and a half, and I was down there, my head poking above the trap door. I crouch to explore. 

It was damp but dry. Because it was late afternoon, the sun was starting to stream into the windows, so while I needed a flashlight, I could see all four corners pretty clearly. Outside of a spider web, a rake, and a couple of extra pipes, there was absolutely nothing down there. I mean, nothing. The height was, at best, 3 feet, and I had to crouch the entire time. Will simply crawled around looking for some amazing discovery. There was none. 

The space is too low and the trap door too small to use the space to store things like the deck chairs. I have plans to maybe get some storage shelves and some air-tight, water proof containers so i won't have to lug things like Christmas decorations back and forth, but then again, I'm thinking I'd rather not have to crawl down there when it's 3 degrees outside. And crawl I will have to do. Knowing we have the space in case we need it is nice, but maybe I will hold off on those plans until after Christmas, when the stuff is there. 

LHOTR - It’s Apple Pickin’ Time!

Neighbors have an apple tree that borders our property. “Help yourself!” Caleigh offered. Why thank you, I will.

Limited pantry options, but I had butter, cinnamon, sugar, and a couple of smashed granola bars. Crumble it is!

Into the oven with a lick and a promise. Added lemon water midway through baking, was a little too dry. 

Oh my, what a treat on a Saturday football afternoon! Every last bite disappeared. 

Desolation Angel

Maybe if I looked like I didn't care...?

The weather was odd today; dark, heavy rain and the air couldn’t decide if it was hot or cold. That, coupled with the time-honored high school traditions taking place in surrounding communities, brought me back to memories of my first date.

And it wasn't pleasant. 

Back in 1985, I had just turned sixteen, and finally allowed to start dating one on one instead of hanging out in a group. The season was also winding down at A&W where I worked, and all of us were making plans to keep in touch. That’s when Sheryl told me her friend Bill thought I was cute. 

He was a year older. On the cross country team. HE was cute. And! He! Thought! I! Was! Cute!

Both of us were a bit shy with each other, yet somehow the plan was made that he would take me to the Vandercook Lake homecoming game and the dance afterwards. I’m thrilled and accept. 

Day of homecoming and I'm eagerly waiting for my date, butterflies fluttering. Six o’clock comes and goes. Six fifteen. Six thirty. My father, who had been waiting for my date to arrive to size him up, attempts to hide his embarrassment as he leaves to referee a football game. Six forty, I am trying to decide what to do with myself when Bill comes screaming up the driveway, apologizes for being late, and we hightailed it to the school.

See, he’s part of the homecoming court, had stuff to do and had still more stuff to do, like deliver the game ball, which was sitting in the backseat. He parks behind the school, jumps out, and says he will be right back.

Clusters of students walk by, and peer into the car, wondering who that girl is in Bill's car. I see the marching band march out of the school. Then back into the school. I don’t see Bill again until the third quarter. In the meantime, I cry, I rage, I panic, and just when his friends happen by to rescue me, he shows up. 

He then tells me he’s tired and would like to take me home. Horrified, I agree that’s a good idea. He would like for us to go on another date, and I quietly say no thank you. 

That homecoming day was a day like this, and driving in the rain, I remember how lonely it was sitting in that car. Wondering if things like this happened to more attractive girls. First date and I knew there were politics on a sliding scale involved. If I were prettier, like Sheryl, would he have been back first quarter, or grabbed my arm and taken me along with him? Or was I expected to be a good sport, grateful for some attention? 

As it were, Sheryl was furious with him, but the damage was done. I was hurt and embarrassed and the doubt that maybe I was set up as a joke crept in and our friendship did not recover. 

Bill and I never went on that second date. 

I saw him a year later, at my senior prom, his date was my cousin Jackie. I remember thinking, at least one member of the family merited his full attention for the duration of an evening. 

It’s astonishing to me that although I’ve grown, there are some hurts that stay with you. Remind you of being a lonely 16 year old stranded in a car. He probably hasn’t given that night a passing thought in 37 years. I wish I could say the same. 

Three down, one to go!

 Sobering reality. 

One of the required classes for my Leadership program is Leadership for Social Change. I submitted my final paper Monday, and recorded my class presentation yesterday. All I have left to do is respond to a couple of classmates' presentations and I will have completed this course. One more course and I get my certificate!

 

The research I did was on food bank donations, and my proposed project was to fill in the gaps. You donate the box of mac and cheese, and I will donate the milk and butter. The challenge was in how to get the donations, then how to deliver it to those in need. The ultimate middle man challenge. 

My final paper was 17 pages long, but the summary for the video presentation was only two, so I'll drop it here: 

My project focused on how to fill in the gaps when it comes to food pantry donations. The best example I can give is macaroni and cheese without the milk and butter to make. Hamburger without the helper.

Essentially, how to get the items needed to complete a meal.

I reviewed the operations of five area food pantries, interviewed a food truck volunteer, and researched articles on national problems, as well as solutions. I also reviewed the top 10 meal subscriptions services, as my original concept was to possibly develop a meal plan for those in need.

My goal for the project was to fill in those gaps, and offer choice and dignity.

First, I found the sheer volume of food boxes donated by the food trucks, as well as the randomness of the food donated prohibits creation of a meal plan.

What I did find is space for these needed items exists in the form of free pantries where patrons can shop based on their needs. From there, the goal became how to fill the pantry.

I found this mission to be personal – food is essential, but a meal is an invitation. I liken it to being known for your signature dish, like my husband’s key lime pie or my chicken noodle soup. Let it be known that I made three batches of homemade soup while working on this project! Therefore, to start, this mission should be grassroots, and start with a directed food drive.

Going off my connections to Grand Valley and the local figure skating club, my proposal is to have a Fill the Fridge food drive connected either to a hockey game or an annual Christmas exhibition. In lieu of an admission, patrons would donate frozen foods, pantry items, or gift cards to benefit Replenish. Those donations would be delivered from the arena directly to campus.

I did want to share a few of the outstanding programs I discovered along the way:

While a subscription meal plan didn’t work for my general idea, something like this is in place. South Michigan Food Bank has Fresh Food Pharmacy program, which provides 2 week’s worth of groceries in a meal plan for low-income recipients with dietary restrictions in a partnership with a regional health care network.

Sears Food Pantry in Osceola County gives those in need a Dairy Card, which can be used to redeem at Foster’s Food Market in Evart. That way, they can receive fresh milk, eggs, butter, and more when they need it, reducing spoilage.

Rapper Gunna teamed up with social entrepreneur Jasmine Crowe to open a free store inside a Georgia middle school to provide low income households access to food, household items, toiletries, clothes, and shoes. I need to provide the link to this story, it’s just incredible. The store is stocked with easy to make meals, vegan options, and fresh produce. The students are given shopping bags, and the parents are given access code via the store app to set up shopping times as well as the opportunity to request special items. For Crowe, it’s been a decade of making programs like this happen, and for Gunna, he vows to keep the store open for as long as he lives.

Downtown Food Pantry will accept homemade canning, fresh produce, and fresh baking as a donation which is unlike most any other pantry I’ve encountered.

On a personal note, this project has made not only me, but my whole family reconsider our giving. I will be presenting this to our board as an option for our Christmas show. We have made our annual gift to Zion, and there will be a box of spices going to the pantry at Peace.

So... what kind of mom am I?

Come love your mother!

Leaving the rink today, there were two moms there who brought their kids to terrorize the adult skaters on open skate with their hockey shit. You know the kind: fake highlights, ponytail pulled through the back of a baseball cap, puffy vests making their seasonal return. 

I am also horrified by the Karens. You know the kind: the razor cut, pursed lips, always suitably outraged about something or other. 

I also dislike the skate mom, the helicopter parent, the scammer, the high maintenance partier past her expiration date, and the checked-out mom who pays no attention to their kids being terrors in public. 

So I guess I know what kind of mom I am. The judgmental bitch.

I wonder why it matters so much that I balance my rep as a mom with society. That I shower him with  almost everything he wants, but don't spoil him. That I protect him but not insulate him. Raise him in our shadow but let him be his own person. 

So I guess in addition to judging these other moms, I'm judging myself too. He's to the stage where he resists the affection I want to heap on him, but will grab my hand and kiss it. I think he's trying to balance between being a kid and a teenager as well. 

Thoughts in the Drop Off Lane

Will missed the bus today. 

It was a harried morning, as he frantically looked for his phone while heeding the directive from his dad to take the trash down to the curb. He also said the bus driver had been picking him up earlier and earlier each morning, so if he wasn't on time, he was late. 

He came banging back into the house, angry and fearful that I would be angry as well. 

On the contrary, I was delighted. 

The bus stop ritual started as early as preschool, when I had to be at the bus stop for pickup, then I would go work out at the Y or do a coffee run until his bus dropped him back home a few hours later. The morning ritual continued until 4th grade, when I had to drop him off mornings because his pickup time was well after I had to be at work. I liked it because it gave me a little more time with him every day. 

Fifth grade into sixth, his bus time was such that he either left the house before me or at the same time. And because he was growing up, the morning kiss turned into shouting "bye mom!" as he walked out the door. 

As he hung his head, anticipating a lecture, I said I could be ready quickly, and brushed my teeth, fluffed my hair, and was ready to go in less than five. Cautious, he mumbled "I guess there's a life lesson in this somehow." Doing the parenting thing, we talked about priorities in the morning and he probably shouldn't have wasted time looking for his phone but he will know for next time. And, this meant I could get Starbucks. 

I don't really know what else we talked about on the way to his middle school, maybe about what parking lot I needed to go to for the drop off lot. I remarked about the kids ahead of us looking like they were 8th graders. What coffee I was going to get, or maybe a pink drink. 

At the drop, instead of a "bye mom, " I got a quick kiss from my kid whose day went from bad to ok. As I went to pick up the Salted Caramel Cold Foam Cold Brew (say that three times real fast), my heart was ready to burst with the randomness of what was a perfectly lovely start to my day and the sheer force of my love for this kid. 

So he missed the bus. The opportunity for me to drop him off at school is closing; by time he is a sophomore, he will be driving himself around the corner and skipping the bus entirely. I hope he misses the bus a few more times so I can get my few extra minutes with my lovely man-child.

Use Your Talents

 Remember her? I do. 

So class three in my quest for earning my GVSU Leadership certificate is in its second week, which means I'm already a third of the way there. I have a major paper due on the 18th - doesn't he know that's birthfest?!

Anyway, the flipgrid assignment was to discuss skill sharing. Immediately my bashful insecurities arose, making me think "what do I have to offer?" Then I remembered Liquid Gold. 

Man, I got a grant to paint it, and it was to advocate for healthy mamas and babies in Kent County. I took a meeting at 1 in the morning in a gay bar with a transgendered bartender after leaving my second shift at the hospital. It had a second life at a foam party for breast cancer research. And I'm still jazzed about how the curls turned out. 

So I touted my skills as an artist as well as a writer. This made me think of all the press releases I've written on behalf of young dudes taking parenting class, or the ads I wrote so Croatian kids were able to attend a baseball game for the first time in their new home country. Supporting the farm that created a petting zoo for special needs kids. Promoting research and continuing education for those who care for dementia patients. And informing a kid from Texas that he can improve his community by coming here to study aquatic sciences. 

If I have to give myself a holla, it's been a wonderful career so far.