My Little Girl

Adrienne, 2011


Adrienne, Kindergarten 1982



Today, June 1, 2011, my baby is 33 years old. She was such a precocious little girl. Always outspoken and still is. If you meet her, you will remember her. I am of the opinion that she inherited all the loudest genes from both of us.


This is an excerpt from The Book of Adrienne:


Captured in my mind, a picture in time ............. too bad I didn't have a camera in my hand. Adrienne and her friend Carolyn standing on the curb, waving goodbye as we drive away. Both dressed to the nines and giddy with laughter. They think her dad bears a close resemblance to Fred Flintstone as he drives my little VW bug.


My baby. She will always be my baby. When she laughs, she laughs loud and when she cries, she cries hard. She does everything that way. Only way she knows how. She came into the world demanding the full attention of everyone in sight .... and got it.

When Adrienne was in second grade, I was PTA president at the elementary school she attended. This a thankless task that every parent should be made to endure at least once. But, like all children will, Adrienne made the most of her status that year. Our house was only three doors down from the school and I could hear her voice clearly when her class was outside during recess. She possesses a strong will and is adept at making others see things her way, but that year, she was often heard saying "My mommy is President of the PTA, so you will do it my way."

Her teacher had also taught her older brother and was apt to complain that Jeffrey talked too much. Mrs. Chester wasn't a strict disciplinarian and never did separate Jeffrey from his best friend, so he talked all year long. She never complained about Adrienne that year, but she did retire at the end of that school year. Adrienne made all the decisions about who sat where and drew up the seating chart for Mrs. Chester. Her class always won the attendance award for the parents visiting on PTA nights. I don't even want to know how she motivated her class mates to encourage the parents to participate. A little overbearing for a seven year old? Perhaps ........

Happy Birthday, Adrienne

Accentuate The Negative ....

.........all the campers are leaving , and my heart is heaving a sigh of relief ............ it's the most wonderful day of the week ........

Rained all day Saturday. All day long. In and out and in and out came all the little children. One at a time and in twos and threes. Then came a group of 14, all in a line. Pushing and shoving playfully and noisily. I announced that the line must be silent and surprisingly it was. The only thing they were allowed to say was the flavor of the snow cone and the color of the straw. Sixty eight snow cones were served in two days. The snow cone machine is a big hit. I just ordered 4 more flavors and 2500 more cups.


We have green apple, cherry, strawberry, bubble gum, watermelon, blue raspberry, banana, and fuzzy navel. Also a magic elixir that will make any flavor sour. Root beer, grape and tigers blood is coming. Is this the tigers blood that Charlie Sheen has been referring to? No? Just a thought.

This day finds me longing for a nap as I watch everyone pull out. But, the pool is open and the temperature is up, so that won't be happening. The pool closes at 7 pm, so I will content myself with the land of blog until then. The weekend was a busy one. Except for one incident. A group of tenters, still loud and rowdy at 11:45 somehow managed to break the spigot off the water pipe on their site sending a geyser into the air. They awakened our helper, who then shut the main to that area, leaving 24 sites without water. The campers responsible for this promptly packed up and left. They have reservations for the weekend of the 4th of July. I am thinking that perhaps they should cancel them. Just kidding ........... I will do it for them!

Wondering about the title? The phone rang and I answered as I always do. When will your allses pool be opened? "The pool is open daily from 11 am until 7 pm, weather permitting." You mean it is already open? "Yes, it is." Well, it ain't never been open this early before. "Yes, we always open Memorial Day weekend." No, it ain't never been opened this early before........ One year out of seven we had to delay the opening. One time in seven years. Once. And that is all people can remember.

This Is A First ......

Just when I think I have heard everything. Just when I think there are no more surprises to be had............

Even though my morning routine was interrupted by the very early arrival of kampers who disregarded the rules set forth, I decided to be the bigger kampground hostess with the mostest. I managed to clean the restrooms and fill the Dr. Pepper machine with 6 cases of cans and keep an eye on the entrance to the park. Then I cleaned the popcorn machine and got it going while baking the cookies. I even made a few snow cones.

So, I was just settling in here at my desk for a little rest before the onslaught of those who will be leaving work a little early to check in. A man pulls up in a car with a young boy and enters the store with a sheepish grin. If I have ever seen him, I don't remember it. He says "hi" and just stands there grinning. I ask if I can help him and he says that he will be camping here this weekend and he needs to know where he can drop off his firewood. Do you have a reservation?
"No, but Drew used to work at the station with ****** and my wife is related to her brother-in-law ...." What????? I can only stare back at him, as I am at a loss for words (and that doesn't happen often). "I gotta go to work and we ain't coming til tomorrow, so I want to leave my firewood here. Where can I put it?" I am booked pretty solid, will you need a tent site or an RV site? "We want a tent site, but we need a plug in (truer words were never spoken, he was pretty ripe smelling ......... oh, sorry, he means he needs a site with electricity to plug something in. I was thinking Glade plug-ins .......) I consult my reservation book and find that I have a precious few tent sites left and ask if he would like to reserve one of them. While he ponders this, I call Drew, since, after all, they are acquainted through the in-law system of being friends with someone he had worked with briefly, and ask what I should do with a car full of firewood.

He, who should learn to have patience with his wife if he wants to have supper tonight, spoke to me in less than kindly tones and reminded me that the DNR had requested that all campgrounds discourage firewood from being brought in, due to some bug infestation. I had already relayed this information to the gentleman, who, then wanted to know who the DNR was. As tempted as I was to tell him it meant "do not resuscitate", I didn't and told him it was the Department of Natural Resources. He was confused, because firewood has nothing to do with fishing ..........
I simply told my husband to report to the office and he did. He did not know this man any more than I did. He looked at the wood and told him that we couldn't let him bring most of it in the park, but that some was okay (my man knows his trees, let me tell you).

This issue being settled,he made the reservation and paid for the first night. I told him that if he chose to put the wood on a site that I could not guarantee that it would be there when he came back. This is when he decided to call his wife. In my store. Standing in front of me. He tells her how much it is going to cost, then after a moment, tells her that they have to pay for the extra people ( a total of eight people). After a very long moment he tells her that he did tell her who he was. That was fun, being privy to the butt chewing I could tell he was receiving from his wife.


Then he tells me he wants to see the site. I give him a map and a receipt and he leaves. I spray some air freshener and think I am done. But ....... no, he is back. He thinks the site to be inferior to the one next to it. I explain that it is reserved and he tells me it is empty. By now I want to pull my hair out, but I very calmly explain how reservations work. I give him another option, in fact give him two. I only have three tent sites left. Off he goes again. I watch as he drives away. I can see the firewood in the back seat! The back bumper is very close to the ground.

He comes back and is closing his cell phone as he enters the store. He is grinning that sappy grin again as he tells me that his wife, who is friends with the brother-in-law of a person my husband once worked with, doesn't like to camp around a bunch of people. She is claustrophobic, it seems, but they might try again around the 4th of July and maybe we won't be busy then. I was happy to refund him and then fumigate my store again. I seemed to have dodged a bullet of stinkiness. But, ......... I can't help but wonder how that claustrophobia works in a tent ...........

If Your Child Has A Goatee ......

Okay, if your child has a goatee ........... he is an adult! The holiday weekend is here. I awoke bright and early with hope in my heart. I have very few sites left. I had some cancellations due to weather (which, by the way is beautiful). The weather has been wet and scary all week.

I have spent more time than I want to remember huddled in the hallway floor with my laptop and my dogs. So much so that I have decided I need a little seating area in there! Maybe a little seat that will fold into the wall like the seat the airline attendants sit in for take-off and landing. The first time in the hall I sat on the bare floor with dogs in my lap. I am a quick learner, though and thereafter I took a blanket and my laptop. The floor was hard and it was boring.

The tornadoes that touched down all around us left us with wet grounds and very little damage, so we have much to be thankful for. The temperature has vacillated wildly this week and it was down in the 40's last night. Yesterday was chilly, but it is slowly rising today and if the forecast is to be believed, we will have a lovely holiday weekend.

We, did I say we? I will have a very busy weekend. My blood pressure is now under control and my body has become familiar with the drug now and the only side effect I am having is loss of appetite. That alone is cause for celebration!! I am baking the giant chocolate chip cookies today and will be popping corn for all those arrivals this afternoon. After noon. Check-in is after noon. I repeat this to each and every reservation I take. Check-out is noon, therefore check-in is after noon. It even makes sense. I know it is not like a hotel room that must be cleaned between visitors, but if everyone decided to come in early and hang out in my very large parking lot until their site was empty, we would have a traffic problem.

So, as I am brushing my teeth and trying to decide between shorts or capris (truly a dilemma), my dogs start to bark and growl. They are pretty much used to the comings and goings of campers and only do this when they feel their territory is being threatened. Like, say, some people gaping at them through the windows, trying to see if their is anyone in my house, since it is only 8 am and the store is not open yet. They don't like that. They know their mistress is still not ready fro the public and they really don't like anyone peering into their private sanctum (their mistress is not fond of this activity, either).

So, I open the door to the people milling around the parking area. "We're early!" says the man, when I ask if I can be of assistance. I look at him blankly and ask again if I can help him (this is a skill taught to me by my sister ...... she has perfected the "I am superior to you in every way" look). He says "We are here for our spot ........... I think it is number 93." Check-in is not until noon, but I will see if your site is available. "We like to get in early." he says. I see that, but I don't open until 9 and check-out is not until noon, so it would stand to reason that check-in would not be until the people in before you have a chance to wake up and pull out. He looks at me like I have three eyes. I have apparently confused him with my reasoning. Come on in to the store and let me see which site I have assigned you (all the while hoping that they are at the wrong campground). "93, I think it is 93" he says, adding to my fantasy of them being in the wrong campground, since I don't have a site 93. Hope is dashed when I ask for the name and I see that they will be in site 68.

I checked them in, after explaining that the 18 year old son with the goatee has to be considered an adult. This does not bode well for my day as I am contemplating a second cup of coffee before I go tackle the restrooms. Yes, I deserve another cup of caffeine.

Wicked Skies

I feel lucky after last night's storm. I have been bemoaning my lack of a basement for 7 years. I like a basement, a safe little cave to crawl into. We had a basement in our house in Minnesota. When the weather forecast was iffy, we would just go sleep in the basement. Not roughing it, we had a duplicate master bedroom with a king size bed and a TV in our basement lair. All the comforts of home. Well, we did have to hike up half a flight of stairs to use the bathroom. The storm would pass through and no matter the damage, we were safe.

Not here. This building is made of cedar and has been here since the 60's. But, it is just a wood building. So, when I see the banner run across the screen on the TV, I pay attention. Yesterday, though, I discovered it was a free Showtime weekend, so I had the DVR in overdrive, taping two shows at once. I was in my own little world in my sewing room listening to an audio book. He who is addicted to talk radio was at work, so it was just me and my furry trio. I had reached a point in the dress I was sewing to cut around some decorative stitching and decided to watch TV while I did so.

There is no window to look out in the sewing room, so the first indication I had of a storm was the dark sky. Wicked dark, I should say. I looked at the clock, wondering just how long I had been sewing, but it was still early. I locked up the store and kept an eye on the clouds swirling about. The dogs were anxious and my ears started popping. Oscar set up a little mournful howl and Wall-E whined, while Emmy walked in circles. It got darker and we all sat in the hallway together as the rain came down and the thunder and lightning sounded. I could hear the wind whistling, too. It stopped after a very short time, maybe 10 minutes or less. I noticed that my pants were wet when I got up .......... dog pee. Emmy has a little bladder control issue when she is nervous.

About half an hour later, everything was bathed in a weird orange glow. It was like looking through tinted safety glasses. Did anyone else see it?

Dog Owners Beware

Such a strange weekend. Thunderstorms on Friday, with nasty gray skies. I thought it would prevent campers from showing up. I did have some cancellations, but then I started getting calls. Is the pool open? Sure, but the water is still very cold, since the nighttime temperature has still been dipping into the lower 40's. The pool people came and set up their pop-up before the rain came down again. I was cooking dinner, so, I told he who should not ever be allowed to check people in, to take care of it, since I was frying flour tortillas at his request. I mean, we are by no means full on this rainy night ....... what could he possibly screw up. It was that or have him take over in the kitchen. Either way, I have to clean up the mess .........

They had four children. And a dog .............. not on a leash. The man came in without his wallet, so he was told to go set up before the storm came and then to come pay. I had already told him the rates on the phone, so he knew that the two children would be extra. They waited until we had closed at 9 to come up and pay, so we told them to just come up and pay in the morning. Next day I look at the registration ......... Honey, where did you put the people you checked in? He told them to pick any site they liked. How many people? He doesn't know, but he thinks they have two children, maybe three. Did you charge for the extra people? He forgot to. Next time he should take over in the kitchen.

The pool people had with them a Saint Bernard puppy. Now, we all know that I love puppies and that I love Saint Bernards. I seemed to have hardened my heart of late, though, because I was lees that enchanted at the site of the puppy roaming freely inside the pool area. Signs, you say. You think I need signs? No, I need people who will read the signs. Maybe common sense would help, too. My dogs don't get to go in the pool. Would you want to take a dip in a pool with dogs? I wouldn't, unless they were my dogs. Here is your tip for the day ............ When someone tells you that your dog has to be on a leash, don't tell them that your dog is good, just put your dog on a leash. Otherwise, the crabby kamp host might ask you to leave.

It was a beautiful day, yesterday. The sun was out and the gentle breeze blew. Of course I was stuck in the office, just busy enough to keep me from accomplishing anything other than reading a book and playing on the computer. This morning the sun was shining when I opened my eyes and I was happily anticipating mowing the back yard and moving some day lilies and hostas. I was humming my favorite song. Then the sky darkened and it has been threatening to storm. So, I went to the strawberry patch to gather the berries that had ripened since Friday. I walked around the yard after filling a big mixing bowl. I was checking on the progress of the peaches and the lack of progress on my lone cherry tree ..................... and that is when I spied it. Dog poop. In my yard. Not my dogs' poop. My dogs have their own yard.

Let's see. There were many dogs here this weekend. Some poodles. They were being walked on leashes by their owners on the main trail around the kampground. Also some retrievers. Also with their owners ....... on leashes. Hmmmm ............ I wonder, could it have been the cute little Saint Bernard pup that was not on a leash??????????????

Peonies A Poppin'

This is my current "project". I have a big table that will seat 10. I don't have 10 chairs. I don't have room for 10 chairs. With this in mind I am always on the lookout for interesting chairs. He who knows everybody (he gets out more than me), happened upon this pew and got it for me. $50!! It needed work. It was a flat brown and it needs a support in the center. I sanded on and off for several days. The seat has some deep gouges and if I sanded them out would lose some of it's stability. So, I decided to do a dry brush of black paint, then top it off with polyurethane. I want a wipe clean surface for my grandchildren. I like the way it turned out. Now I just need some muscle to get it in the house .............. and some grandchildren to seat.

Winter was extreme this year. This maple did not fare well. It is alive, but looks so sad.

Kamp buddy Yvonne got this frog to grace my sewer pipe planter. I rescued the plant from the clearance section of dying WalMart plants.

My clematis is thriving. I was hoping it would spread more and cover the porch rail. I am happy to see the blooms, though.

There will be peaches. I just used the last bag of frozen fruit from last season. I am ready for some fresh fruit.

The last three days has brought three quarts of strawberries. Tonight we will have a fresh strawberry pie. I have no idea what the main course will be, but who cares!

I grow chives because I like the flowers! My hostas seemed to have tripled in size. They like the cold winter.

I lost my cherry tree. I am thinking we should chop it down and save it for Halloween decor. I have waited to cut it down because I want to replace it with another tree. Too bad the one I want is almost $300. I suppose I should wait until I find one on sale. I will, but I really want that Japanese Maple; really, really do.

I planted this peony last year. It was one of those clearance, about to die $1 plants from WalMart. I kind of half-heartedly stuck it in the ground. Just look at what I got!