Sidewalk Chalk Graffiti ... Take 2!

I just had to do one more post highlighting my son's sidewalk chalk graffiti. I love the words and phrases he draws (and, hey ... he took one of my suggestions from my last post! :-)). Sometimes, it's just him ... other times, there are several kids in our driveway creating entertaining images and uplifting words.

The best part is the feedback we hear ... from neighbors we know ("It made my day to walk to the mailbox and see these words!") and exercisers who just happen to be passing by ("We look forward to seeing what word is written on your driveway when we come by each night!").

His artwork continues to be a great reminder to me of how easy it is to share some hope, a little love, and a smile.

Summer Inspiration ... Kid Style!

Every so often, they hop off their bikes and scooters, or take a break from playing basketball or flag football, and impress me with their creative side. Whether it's a city of roadways and parking lots made with just chalk and Hot Wheels; a tea party, complete with miniature utensils; a "special breakfast" served on a doll highchair tray; a bouquet of blooms collected from the ground (or, sometimes, from the plant itself! :-)); or a colorful PlayDoh "cake" ... it's a great reminder to me to keep creating characters and writing stories (and not be afraid of NOT creating perfection on the first try!).

Beware the Fleas of Italy

Friday marks my 40th birthday ... and, I must admit that I'm a bit in shock that - in response to the 'What is your age?' question on surveys - the box I'll need to check is in an entirely different decade than before.

Five years ago, my hubby and I each shared what we wanted to do for our 40th birthday. I decided I wanted to celebrate it in Italy. Fast forward five years ... with school and work and extracurricular schedules and a pesky lack of funding for such a trip, it is clear this particular wish is not going to be realized. Maybe we'll aim for 45.

Anyway, I've been feeling a bit wistful for Italy ... and, so, felt the need to remind myself that the last time I was there, it wasn't all glamorous. I posted the story below a couple years ago, and thought this would be the perfect occasion for a re-post.

Thanks to the creative mind of blogger/author/illustrator, Douglas Florian, this time around we'll rename the post, "Flearence"!

*******

Some might find it surprising that I have such an obsession with Italy considering what happened to me while vacationing in the beautiful country a few years back. Hubby and I learned, after our trip, that the weather we thought to be normal for the late May/early June timeframe was very much non-typical. In fact, they had been experiencing a somewhat unusual heat wave. And heat waves can, apparently, bring on infestations of certain pests, namely fleas.

I should note here that I have an allergic reaction to flea bites. There’s a back story to that … I’ll share it at another time.

Our first stop was in Rome. There, I accumulated five or six flea bites. Thinking it to be a fluke, I grinned and beared the bites as they grew into large blisters. I was slightly miserable, but thoroughly enjoying the historic and culinary experience that is Rome.

Florence was the second stop of this dream vacation. In an effort to be frugal, I had found a wonderful Florence apartment on-line, boasting a gorgeous view of the Duomo. The owner was going to be traveling while we were in town, and had made his flat available for a reasonable price to gullible travelers such as myself.

The flat, with its musty stench and jungle-like plant arrangements did – in fact – have a view of the Duomo. Yes it did. If you went into the bathroom, which measured approximately 3 feet by 5 feet, and stood on your tip-toes to look out the 1 foot by 1 foot window, you could see the peak of the Duomo perfectly. (See that little bug, strategically located on the picture above? That's the bathroom window of our flat, as seen from the top of the Duomo! :-))

The bathroom – view or not – brought me to tears. Upon arriving in sizzling Florence, with my ever-so-itchy blisters, all I wanted to do was wash away the itchiness with a shower. After standing on my tip-toes to view the Duomo, I turned my attention to the task at hand. Unfortunately, a shower did not appear to exist in the 3 by 5 foot bathroom space.

Sink? Check.

Toilet? Check (sort of).

Oh, wait … there is a water tank mounted over the toilet; a floor drain in the middle of the room; and a hand shower of sorts propped near the tank.

Super … the bathroom is the shower.

I had exactly four minutes to wash, relax, and get my mind off my growing, itching blisters before the tank of lukewarm water emptied. Certainly, though, things would start looking up soon.

The next morning, I awoke to oodles of new blisters. It was then that we pulled back the covers to find fleas dancing on the sheets.

Day’s Agenda:

1) Visit the Ponte Vecchio and the Piazza della Signoria;

2) Buy hydrocortisone and bulk supply of Band-Aids; and

3) Eat lots of gelato to numb the pain and itching.

That night, in the midst of an Italian heat wave, I went to bed wearing socks, sweats, and a sweatshirt. Certainly they wouldn’t be able to attack me through so much clothing.

They did.

Our dream vacation was quickly becoming a flea-infested nightmare. Second only to my hubby, Lenirit Idrocortisone Acetato became my close and constant companion. My main goal as I dressed each morning had become attempting to disguise the increasing number of Band-Aids and hideous blisters under the diminutive selection of warm-weather clothing I had brought along for the trip. “Certainly, I can make these capris stretch down to my ankles!”

In a heroic effort to keep his bride from going insane from the incessant itching, hubby suggested we ditch our next intended stop – Venice – and head north to the cool, fresh air of Zurich, Switzerland. Forget trying to be a good sport … I jumped on that bandwagon and, with a sigh of relief, concurred with the suggested change in travel plans!

By the time we left Florence in a mad dash to escape the heat-seeking fleas, I had 32 blisters lining my body from neck to foot … most of them concentrated on my legs, some measuring the size of a dime.

At this point, frugality was a distant and silly thought. I found and booked a room at the Zurich Best Western, where - upon arrival - I wept with joy at the beautiful tub and shower, and the gorgeous, fluffy down beds. We emptied the entire contents of our luggage into the bathtub, ensuring no fleas had hitched a ride north with us.

Dream vacation saved, though bite scars still remain as a bittersweet reminder of our time under the hot Italian sun.

We do plan to eventually make it back to Venice …this time, however, we’ll be a bit more mindful of timing, in the hopes that we don’t arrive during an Italian flea-infested heat wave!

At the Coast ...

~ We relax and enjoy ~

~ Hope you are enjoying the last 'official' days of summer ~

(Click on image to view larger!)

Summer Memories

Don't you just love it when a sound or smell or taste transports you back to a wonderful childhood memory?

We traveled to Eastern Washington last weekend to celebrate a couple family birthdays. While there, it quickly became apparent - as the distant sound of turbine engines made its way from the river all the way up the hill to where we were staying - that the hydros were in town!

As a child, I lived in a neighborhood that sat just off a street that had a perfect bird's eye view of the river. In the week leading up to Sunday's big race day, every time I would hear the hydroplane engines fire up, I would run, walk, or ride my bike down to the street, and perch myself on the sidewalk corner to watch as the boats tweaked and tested and practiced on the river, in preparation for race day. I would scan the newspaper, looking for any article regarding the boats and drivers and then committing the information to memory.

Then came race day, and the annual BBQ at my house. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins would descend upon our home for food and race-watching. One of my favorite dishes during those BBQs was as simple as they come ... garden-fresh cucumbers, Walla Walla Sweet onions, rice vinegar, salt, and ice all mixed together.

This past weekend, before leaving town on Sunday, we headed to my old stomping grounds and were able to catch two race heats. I felt like a kid again ... except that I knew nothing of most of the boats and drivers, like I used to! And, I didn't have the cukes & onions on-hand ... though, that was fixed after we returned home! :-)

Hope your summer is sparking wonderful memories as well.

Sweetness is ...

A 4-year old 'coordinating' a cancer walk!

"Let's go on a cancer walk!" said our daughter last night, as we prepared for our nightly walk around the neighborhood. ('Cancer Walks' are what we call the walks we do each year to raise money to find a cure for breast cancer.) She urged us all to wear our matching pink American Cancer Society t-shirts ... and, we obliged. With urgency, she then ran to get her 'Cancer Walk' bear, so he came along too!

And ....

An 8-year old hoping that the Chocolate Mint plant in our back yard will yield ... what else ... chocolate mints!


"Has that plant got any chocolate mints on it yet?" asked our son. I had to double-check that he wasn't pulling my leg ... but, he was nothing but serious. And, very disappointed when I told him that, unfortunately, it didn't grow chocolate mint candies. I must admit ... that would be cool!

Some trivia ... did you know that mint plants have square stems,
rather than the typical round stem that most plants have?

Deep Water

It’s a love-hate relationship.

Vast bodies of water are one of my absolute favorite experiences. The power of an endless, roaring ocean; the inspiring sight of a sparkling blue lake; water so still it provides a mirror-perfect reflection of trees and mountains or touched by the wind to create ripples and whitecaps; ferries carrying their precious cargo; boats lining a marina. So much for the senses to take in.

Funny, how I have fear of the very thing I am drawn to. I am interested in looking at it; in being on top of it. I have little desire to be in it or under it.

While my husband snorkeled in Maui; I floated along the top of the water, dipping my head in every so often to take a picture of him. I’ve always considered breathing underwater to be a thing best left for fish! Water skiing was cause for internal struggle. The skiing part was exhilarating; but my delight was tempered by having to begin and end in the deep, dark water.

Thankfully, on numerous occasions, a love for adventure and desire to challenge myself has prevailed over my fear. A trip to picturesque Orcas Island, part of the San Juan Islands of Washington, was host to one such occasion. When visiting Orcas, a popular thing to do is go sea kayaking in the Puget Sound.

Let’s take just a moment to analyze these two words:

Sea = deep, vast water; animals swimming amongst and beneath, including whales.
Kayaking = self-propelled human travel via a narrow, canoe-like, tippable boat, using an oar.

Our trip began with a lesson in how to maneuver the kayak and handle a possible tip. The very mention of which caused a combination of heart palpitations and nervous goosebumps. We were led to believe that, if our kayak were to tip over, we could perform a kayak roll using a swift lift-of-the-torso-hip-flicking-paddle-pushing action. I was fairly certain, though I didn’t share this with the guide or my husband, that – if I were upside down in the sea in a kayak – I would be spending more time figuring out how to get my lower half loose from the skirt attaching me to the kayak, and less time perfecting the roll technique.

Thankfully, neither method was put to the test.

As we floated away from the dock, getting a feel for how to propel and steer the vessel with our paddles and realizing the kayak was more stable than expected, the pounding in my chest slowed.

The sights and sounds surrounding us were stunning: water gently lapping against the kayak, hills of evergreens, snow-capped mountains, and blue sky mottled with cotton-ball clouds. It was peaceful, exhilarating, and the fact that I was playing a part in making the kayak move forward and turn filled me with a sense of strength.

As our group paddled out to the open sea, seals poked their heads out of the water to watch as we paddled through their space. A sea plane descended from the sky, landing effortlessly on the water. And, much larger vessels glided by, causing ripples that created a mini-roller coaster sensation for us kayakers. Unfortunately, though … no Orca whales were spotted. We would see them frolicking in the water at another time and place.

When the day was done, I was filled with energy and passion for the sport. My husband and I even discussed the possibility of purchasing a kayak to use on the river back home. Of course, those dreams were tempered by the reality of an apartment balcony that could not accommodate a large kayak and the realization that our visits to the river would likely be few and far between.

The kayak was not the important thing, though … it was the exhilarating feeling of a fear overcome. It’s still not my preference to be in the deep water. But I learned that, sometimes, the deepest water can bring the greatest joy.

Herman ... A Fish Tale

Last week, hubby and I took the kids to the stunning Bonneville Fish Hatchery in the equally-impressive Columbia River Gorge National Scenic Area.

Before actually going there, I would have never guessed I would be referring to a fish hatchery as 'stunning'. But, it is. The grounds are simply gorgeous. I walked around clicking pictures and commenting continuously on how beautiful everything looked.

The main attraction, however, is not the landscaping. It is Herman the Sturgeon. I couldn't help but think how perfect a character Herman would be for a children's picture book.

While myths abound, the true facts about Herman are limited in number, but staggering to the mind:

1. Herman the Sturgeon is over 10 feet long.
2. He weighs in at over 450 pounds.
3. He is over 70 years old.

My son and daughter thought he was a riot. As he nonchalantly swam by, my son waved; while my daughter excitedly showed him her Pet Shop pups ... ya know, just in case he was in to that kind of thing.

As for me ... I'm still wondering about the picture book possibility. Looks like I've got some research in my future!

Happy writing!

Eating Sand ... or, The Ups and Downs of the Writing Life :-)

This past weekend, we visited the always-stunning Oregon Coast. The roar of the ocean and the warmth of the velvety sand has the immediate effect of relaxing all the tensed-up muscles in my neck and shoulders. I love it.

And, so does the rest of the family. The kids are as content as can be digging in the sand, constructing sand buildings and bridges, and running alongside the frigid water. Jeff perfected a new sand-building technique I'd just read about in a magazine ... combining water and sand, and letting it drip from your hand into little sculptures. Witness here ... a mountain of sand trees!

What amused me most, however, was our attempt at flying the Blue Angel's jet kite. The wind was just this side of a little too calm and it refused to stay aloft. At one point, as Jeff held the string and Braden tossed the kite up in the air for one last attempt at flight, I grabbed my camera ... and shot this sequence:

Oh, yes ... we've got it ... we're heading up .....

no ... wait ... we're going down ...

oh dear ... yep, we're eating sand.

For some reason, as I watched this all happen over the course of mere seconds, my last rejection popped into my head. Usually, I'm waiting for a response from a children's book publisher. This time, however, I was thrilled to be waiting for a response from a magazine editor. It was the first magazine article I had submitted. I was branching out, expanding my horizon ... and I was quite excited by the prospect.

When the editor e-mailed back, I had the standard, "Do I really want to open this?" feeling in the pit of my stomach. But, of course, I did.

The first line was good ... "this is terrific", it read. I was soaring up, up in the air.

But, then I read the word, "unfortunately" ... oh dear ... I think we're going down.

"We can't find the right place for it in our line-up." And, there I was ... eating sand again!

I actually chuckled as I stood there, in the warm sand, silently connecting my rejection to the failure of the kite to fly on this particular day. Because ... on a different day - when the wind is just right - that kite will soar up in the air (and, yes, it will eat sand again too!!). It was a great reminder to me that someday - when the timing is just right - something I've written will find its place and get its chance to soar. In the mean time, I'll just have to learn to appreciate the sand!

I Love Awards! :-)

A gazillion thanks to Sheri, at the fabulous Diary of a Children's Book Writer blog, for awarding me the lovely

Superior Scribbler Award!

I am so honored and excited. Sheri is fabulous ... if you haven't already gotten to know her, you must stop by her blog. She is smart, funny, honest, helpful, and just as kind as can be. And, I adore the other blogs she chose as well, including PJ Hoover at Roots in Myth, and Rebecca at Rebecca's Writing Journey.

OK, now for following the award rules! :-)

1. Each Superior Scribbler must, in turn, pass the Award on to 5 most-deserving Bloggy buds.
2. Each Superior Scribbler must link to the author & the name of the blog from whom he/she has received The Award.
3. Each Superior Scribbler must display The Award on his/her blog, and link to this post, which explains The Award.
4. Each Blogger who wins The Superior Scribbler Award must visit this post and add his/her name to the Mr. Linky List (!?) at the Scholastic-Scribe's blog. That way, we'll be able to keep up-to-date on everyone who receives this prestigious honor!
5. Each Superior Scribbler must post these rules on his/her blog.
   

Seriously, I adore every single blog I follow, otherwise I wouldn't be following them. But, being the good rule-follower that I am, here are my five Superior Scribbler award recipients ....

1. Rebecca Ramsey at Wonders Never Cease
2. Beth Kephart at Beth Kephart Books
3. Sherrie at Write About Now
4. Sherry Rogers at Sherry Rogers Illustrations Blog
5. Cathy at Cathy C.'s Hall of Fame

Oh ... and there's also ... wait, is that my five already?! There are also a few blogs I adore that are on 'vacation' for the summer ... maybe I'll get the opportunity to pass an award along to them sometime in the future!

Congrats! And, happy writing (and illustrating! :-)).

Fear ... Gratitude ... and a Buck to go with that Deer?

Last week was unexpected ... it felt, in many ways, as if we were in the midst of a nightmare; and, simultaneously, had a gazillion little moments that filled me with an overwhelming sense of gratitude.

I mentioned my son turning seven one moment, and the next being incredibly sick for the first time in his life. After my post last Tuesday, his condition worsened. Over the remainder of the week, our little man endured blood tests, additional exams, a CT scan (requiring an IV, poor thing!), and – finally – a visit with a specialist. One by one, different possibilities were eliminated, and we ended up - despite an initial negative mono test reading – with a diagnosis of just that.

Thankfully, he’s turned the corner. Little ones rarely get mono but – when they do – they bounce back much quicker than the 14 – 25 year olds it usually invades! We can see it already … his sense of humor, his desire to play more, the color coming back to his face, the absence of a fever.

We are so thankful for this outcome … and for all your good wishes and prayers. And … the moments that filled me with gratitude … they were the concern from so many, including family and friends who were calling and texting daily to check in on his condition. And, the magnificent doctors and hospital who – despite us not having any pre-scheduled appointments – flawlessly worked us into their existing schedules on a same-day basis in order to quickly determine what was attacking his little body so they could fix it! And, my son, who despite being in pain and feeling so horrible, uttered not one single complaint. So brave.

On a lighter note …

TOOTH FAIRY PAYS DOUBLE! A lost front tooth brought a smile to our son’s face in the midst of a week where smiles weren’t coming as naturally and frequently as they usually do! And, we discovered that the tooth fairy pays a bit extra for pain and suffering when the tooth’s owner is under the weather!

WOULD THAT DEER LIKE A BUCK? We’ve been dining outdoors … and, on a regular basis, have been joined by our deer friend, who dines on the blackberry leaves at the same time. One evening, as the deer started walking away, our 3-year old hollered, “If you stay, I’ll give you a buck!” She then pretended to pick up a dollar bill and toss it to the deer, while we erupted in laughter at the irony of her choosing to bribe the deer with – of all things - a BUCK!

PLEASE LET THAT BE A HIGHLY TALENTED HELI PILOT! We’ve had much activity over the past few weeks in the green space behind our home. First, the towering maples came down. Then, the ‘placeholder’ lines were strung – by helicopter – to the electrical towers, in preparation for the real electrical lines to be pulled through. Helicopters are tricky to maneuver … so, I must admit to my heart pounding just a bit faster than usual as this one flew sideways, backwards, and very slowly over our house, as it strung the necessary lines! Oy!

Have a wonderful and healthful week!

A Fiery Red Visitor

This past weekend was my son's 7th birthday bash - a Lego extravaganza! He was ear-to-ear smiles! We lucked out with a gorgeous day on Saturday ... comfortably warm with a slight breeze and flawless blue skies.

As we were decorating the tables outside, this little guy flew in for a visit. I've never seen one like it, and I'm not sure exactly what it is. To me ... it looks like a dragonfly. But, I'm not sure those come in a fiery-red variety.

I skimmed through a few lists of bugs ... but, I can only take so much of that before feeling like they're crawling up my legs and through my hair! I did find a similar-looking one called a Red Skimmer, but I'm sticking with the Red Dragonfly!

If you know what it is, let me know!

As for the rest of this week ... our big 7-year old, who has hardly been sick a day in his life, is very much a sick young man. He's got lymph node swelling in his neck giving him the look of a football player and making him unable to move his neck and head. That, combined, with a constant fever, has me a bit distracted. The doctor has ruled out several things, and we'll be re-visiting in a few days to see if the lymph nodes are shrinking back to their normal size, or if further investigation is warranted!

So ... please think good thoughts that our young man - who has been such a trooper while clearly not feeling well - will be back to his normal scooter-riding, bike-jumping, Lego-obsessed, silly, sweet, energetic self soon.

Beware the Fleas of Italy

Some might find it surprising that I have such an obsession with Italy - Tuscany, in particular - considering what happened to me while vacationing in the beautiful country a few years back.

Hubby and I learned, after our trip, that the weather we thought to be normal for the late May/early June timeframe was very much non-typical. In fact, they had been experiencing a somewhat unusual heat wave. And heat waves can, apparently, bring on infestations of certain pests, namely fleas.

I should note here that I have an allergic reaction to flea bites. There’s a back story to that … I’ll share it at another time.

Our first stop was in Rome. There, I accumulated five or six flea bites. Thinking it to be a fluke, I grinned and beared the bites as they grew into large blisters. I was slightly miserable, but thoroughly enjoying the historic and culinary experience that is Rome.

Florence was the second stop of this dream vacation. In an effort to be frugal, I had found a wonderful Florence apartment on-line, boasting a gorgeous view of the Duomo. The owner was going to be traveling while we were in town, and had made his flat available for a reasonable price to gullible travelers such as myself.

The flat, with its musty stench and jungle-like plant arrangements did – in fact – have a view of the Duomo. Yes it did. If you went into the bathroom, which measured approximately 3 feet by 5 feet, and stood on your tip-toes to look out the 1 foot by 1 foot window, you could see the peak of the Duomo perfectly. (See that little bug, strategically located on the picture above? That's the bathroom window of our flat, as seen from the top of the Duomo! :-))

The bathroom – view or not – brought me to tears. Upon arriving in sizzling Florence, with my ever-so-itchy blisters, all I wanted to do was wash away the itchiness with a shower. After standing on my tip-toes to view the Duomo, I turned my attention to the task at hand. Unfortunately, a shower did not appear to exist in the 3 by 5 foot bathroom space.

Sink? Check. Toilet? Check (sort of).

Oh, wait … there is a water tank mounted over the toilet; a floor drain in the middle of the room; and a hand shower of sorts propped near the tank. Super … the bathroom is the shower.

I had exactly four minutes to wash, relax, and get my mind off my growing, itching blisters before the tank of lukewarm water emptied. Certainly, though, things would start looking up soon.

The next morning, I awoke to oodles of new blisters. It was then that we pulled back the covers to find fleas dancing on the sheets.

Day’s agenda: Visit the Ponte Vecchio and the Piazza della Signoria; buy hydrocortisone and bulk supply of Band-Aids; and eat lots of gelato to numb the pain and itching.

That night, in the midst of an Italian heat wave, I went to bed wearing socks, sweats, and a sweatshirt. Certainly they wouldn’t be able to attack me through so much clothing.

They did. Our dream vacation was quickly becoming a flea-infested nightmare. Second only to my hubby, Lenirit Idrocortisone Acetato became my close and constant companion.

My main goal as I dressed each morning had become attempting to disguise the increasing number of Band-Aids and hideous blisters under the diminutive selection of warm-weather clothing I had brought along for the trip. “Certainly, I can make these capris stretch down to my ankles!”

In a heroic effort to keep his bride from going insane from the incessant itching, hubby suggested we ditch our next intended stop – Venice – and head north to the cool, fresh air of Zurich, Switzerland. Forget trying to be a good sport … I jumped on that bandwagon and, with a sigh of relief, concurred with the suggested change in travel plans!

By the time we left Florence in a mad dash to escape the heat-seeking fleas, I had 32 blisters lining my body from neck to foot … most of them concentrated on my legs, some measuring the size of a dime.

At this point, frugality was a distant and silly thought. I found and booked a room at the Zurich Best Western, where - upon arrival - I wept with joy at the beautiful tub and shower, and the gorgeous, fluffy down beds.

We emptied the entire contents of our luggage into the bathtub, ensuring no fleas had hitched a ride north with us. Dream vacation saved, though bite scars still remain as a bittersweet reminder of our time under the hot Italian sun.

We do plan to eventually make it back to Venice …this time, however, we’ll be a bit more mindful of timing, in the hopes that we don’t arrive during an Italian flea-infested heat wave!

Summer Torture Plan Enters ... Dare We Say ... "Fun" Territory!

Yes, it is true ... as of late, Braden's been enjoying his summer journaling. OK, OK, I admit ... I do have to, sort of, 'drag' him to the point of actually sitting in front of a table with journal and colored pencils at the ready. BUT, once he's there, our recent experiences have actually been quite enjoyable. He gets excited as we go through the process of drawing what we will be writing about; he tries to spell some of the words on his own before asking for help; and, he's not rubbing his poor eyes to bits with the palms of his hands. All very good signs, in my book!

Recently, we completed a journal page, which I then turned into a 'thank you' card for his grandparents ... THIS, he liked. So ... we're rolling with that ... this week, he drew a picture of himself playing soccer at his school's soccer camp. We'll be turning that into a thank-you card for his soccer camp coach! And, in the midst of many less-than-shining parental moments, I savored just a taste of parenting success when Braden told me, "I'm writing a lot of words on this one [the soccer journal page], because then my writing will get better!" After a brief fainting spell (or maybe it was just my heart leaping with joy), I delightedly agreed, "Yes, Braden, that is absolutely right!"

My Summer Torture Plan

Colored pencils, paper to draw and jot a few journal notes, a warm and breezy outdoor setting surrounded by flowers and frequently visited by butterflies and hummingbirds (we won't mention the dive-bombing, mating maple flies because that would completely ruin the pleasant image I'm trying to create ...) ... THIS is the setting of my Summer Torture Plan.

It wasn't intended to be torturous ... it was clever! creative! fun! And, the intent was to ensure that Braden didn't conveniently forget everything he'd learned in Kindergarten ... thereby making his entry into First Grade all that much easier. Sounds perfectly reasonable, right?

As part of Braden's Kindergarten graduation gift, his lovely Aunt Heidi and family gave Braden a drawing tablet/journal and colored pencils (for Braden's sake, the gift also included an R/C car!). I had an 'aha' moment when I saw that gift ... it was our ticket to summer learning ... in a fun way, of course. I mean, what child doesn't like to draw? And, I figured, the drawing would make bearable the fact that he would have to write about what he had drawn.

It started out fine ... our first entry was easy enough ... he enjoyed drawing the picture, and I helped him spell out what he wanted to write about the picture. However, this learning experience has progressed into a painful exercise ... for both of us. He's reluctant to be pulled away from his bike/skateboard/trucks/cars/dirt piles; and I'm equally frustrated as I watch him start aggressively rubbing his eyes, which is his signal that he doesn't feel like trying to spell a word, sound out a word, or figure out which way the 'bump' on the 'p' is supposed to go! Please don't misunderstand ... this is a bright kid we're talking about. We are constantly in awe of his observation & reasoning skills, memory, and initiative! But - obviously - if it's a toss-up between playing and learning (even if said learning is accompanied by colored pencils and drawing) ... well ... you know which is probably going to come out ahead!

Nonetheless, we have persevered. And, as a result, we have a lovely collection of 'memories' of our summer thus far. His journal entries aren't as frequent as I'd dreamily envisioned ... but, they exist nonetheless, and I'm happy for that. I'm attaching a few of my favorites ... which, as you can plainly see, describe his true favorite summer activities! Maybe someday ... he'll draw a picture of and write about us sitting in the backyard, surrounded by flowers and butterflies, journaling together ... then again, maybe not!