Sigh

The garage smells like camp, and there are eight bulging bags of laundry and one duffel bag full of blankets and pillows awaiting a trip to the laundromat. Supper was an actual meal, with table settings and everything. There are sneakers and papers everywhere, there is talking and singing and arguing. The quiet is gone. The house that shuts down at 8 pm, a mere memory. But last night I couldn't stop smiling as I passed all the rooms with all those sleeping kids.

Under one roof.

"Second Half"

The official second half of summer begins today when the girls return from their four week stint in overnight camp. Feeding three little kids a steady (unhealthy) diet of ice cream, "Tradition" (ramen noodle)soups, hot dogs and scrambled eggs will come to a close. It's back to proper suppers for a crowd, breakfast for a clan, and lunch for the two who'll be hanging with me.

The kayaking will be easier with babysitters back in the house, and I may even try for twice a week. Last week my kayaking partner had to cancel, but I went myself. I missed her, but the solitude was great, and the level of the workout was better, as I did less floating for shmoozing purposes, and more actual paddling.

Yesterday we took the little kids to Easton, PA to the Crayola Factory. We hadn't been there in ten years, and having only the younger set with us it was the perfect outing for the perfect ages, and they had a fantastic time. Sunday in the summer at the tail end of a heat wave is not necessarily the best time to go to a kid friendly INDOOR activity from a crowd perspective, but it really didn't feel crowded and there were lots of projects available. I thought we'd stay for two hours, (based on what the website said), but between Crayola and the canal museum (connected, read: one price for both), we left after four hours. I'd love to say the trip home was uneventful, but someone (me) changed the baby a little too quickly when we were leaving, and he had a very messy "accident" on the way home. That meant a shoulder stop to clean everything up, and a garbage stop. Of course there were no rest stops, so it meant getting off the exit and driving about five miles in until we could find a trash receptacle. Seriously, it was all residential and we could not find a garbage can. Richard III came to mind.

There's a lot more summer left, we hope to use it well.

Summer Harvest

A summer day that is spent almost entirely outside, is pretty close to perfect just in that regard. When you boil it down to the activities, it can just make you sigh with delight. There's a certain joy in just having a day where you don't do much more than appreciate the beautiful world Hashm created. And eat confections made from that world.

As we did last summer, and per request of the little girls at home, blueberry picking was the agenda for the day. What a difference a year makes! No longer a newborn, boy was very happy to scarf as many blueberries as we'd give him. Four year old was more than able to determine the "very fat- very blue" berries peeking out from under leaves, and clustered, seemingly oddly, with completely green, unripe berries. The current eldest, was so proud to navigate the rows on her own, filling her heart shaped basket with only the choicest fruits. When they had enough, we walked back to the car, still in good moods despite the heat, and made our way to a placid park near the farm, where lunch was eaten under a shady tree next to a pond with two elegantly spouting fountains.

There were other picnickers, each staking out their own shady patch of green. We assumed them to be locals (unlike us), and the very few of this town who were not riding their bikes or running/jogging on the main road, the one with no shoulder. And twists and turns. Lots of twists and turns. It was actually a fairly scary experience, never knowing when a cyclist would be around the next bend with another car approaching from the opposite direction.

We made our way home, and appreciated the generosity of my sister, as the girls were able to show their father how good they've gotten in the pool. Remarkably, the four year old has learned to swim without "floaties," even though her only swimming without them takes place in camp, which has only been a few weeks!

There was enough time to come home, dry off, whip up blueberry muffins and a quick blueberry plum cobbler until it was time to run off to a family bar-b-cue. Good food, good fun, good people.

Good day.

The Devil in the Details

Why is there such a great fascination with every minute- second really- of this horrible, tragic, heart wrenching case?

Probably because the more information we gather, the more we know, the more easily we hope or think or pray we will be able to prevent this in our own lives.

We hope this family can one day find peace.

Yeah, I Guess So...

The girls' camp will print emails sent to campers, which are then distributed with the regular mail. This allows for quick short notes, or long missives, but the kids will get them later that day, provided that it is sent in by a certain time (they only print the emails once a day- otherwise, they get it the next day). Sometime it ends up being a lot of pressure, especially when not much is going on.

One of the girls (she likes to call herself PG-13- PIANO GIRL 13- her hobby and age mixed together)has been writing fairly regularly (in ten days we've received three letters and three postcards). She seems to understand why the emails are somewhat sporadic.

Here's what she wrote:

Based on your e-mails (thank you!)sounds like you are keeping up a steady summer routine (of monotony and fun)

Indeed

The View from the Mountains

For the first time in a few years we had a new kid in camp. Though, she's been going up to this camp since she's three years old, it hardly seemed like it would be hard for her. That and three sisters and three cousins n camp with her, made for a smooth transition into one of the overnight campers. (It helps that her oldest sister is a JC in the bunkhouse right next door).

Because one of the girls is now staff our day changed a bit. We waited around on campus until she could leave. The only problem was, we've been there so many times that there is very little left to "see." We managed to just sit around and shmooze, with nieces and and aunts and uncles, and as a great surprise to my family...grandmother!!! MY kids were quite excited that she had come up, and were happy that she got to see the camp (thrilled with the cookies as well).

This year we did some more research and found a place not far from camp called Irving Cliff. IT was named after Washington Irving:

In 1841 a group of prominent New York City businessmen, its mayor Philip Hone, and author Washington Irving traveled by canal boat from Rondout, New York, to Honesdale. The large rock cliff 300 feet above the town so impressed Washington Irving that he deemed it necessary to climb to its summit. Later Philip Hone named the Cliff after his friend.

In 1883 John Alden Wood began constructing a summer hotel on the summit of Irving Cliff. The four-story high, castellated-style building included elevator service. All 125 bedrooms had private bathrooms. Construction was completed in 1885. The Irving Cliff Hotel was scheduled to open on June 22. 1889, but burned to the ground the evening of May 28, 1889. The cause of the fire was never determined.

After enjoying the views, we came back down, traversed a small footbridge over the Lackawanna River, fed some ducks, and made our way over to a small shul that was established in 1849. Unfortunately what was started as an Orthodox (yekkish!) shul is now a reform congregation, but I peeked inside a window, and it seemed like there was an upstairs balcony:

The Hebrew congregation was first formed in 1849 by ten German immigrant families, with services being held in the home of Mr. Waller, which was located on Upper Main Street. In 1856, the Delaware & Hudson Co., through the intercession of Russell F. Lord, donated the present riverbank site as a building lot. In addition, Mr. Lord donated money for the construction of a place of worship. The Temple was dedicated on September 10, 1856 and has the unique distinction of being the smallest synagogue in the United States. During the flood of 1942, when most of the riverbank structures were swept away, the little Temple stood, "It fell not for it was founded on a Rock."

(it's not a great picture, in that the shul was built in the "church" style and has a small steeple on top, which apparently I missed in this shot, most likely due to the slamming of the car door, as one of the girls threatened to walk back to camp-(15 miles?)and I needed to stop taking pictures a referee ten days of pent up non-fighting!)

Then a quick supermarket run to replenish some stock, back to camp, another loooooong goodbye, and off we went, with minimal traffic.

It was a really nice day.

GUEST BLOGGER

Though we don't often have guest bloggers, we felt this was a particularly interesting post by the ubiquitous commenter: DOOBIE....enjoy!

My son came home from shul the other day a bit upset. He had carefully moved a pair of glasses that were on the table in front of him out of the way so he could put his tallis and tefillin down. He wasn't careful to put them down on the arms and put the glasses down lens first. After davening the owner of the glasses came over to my son and told him that he had scratched his lenses and that it would cost him $200.00 to fix.

My son was surprised by that number and asked if he really thought it would be that much to replace. The man told him that maybe he will find out first how much it would cost to replace and let us know.

When my son got home he counted out some of the money he keeps in a safe at home and then told me about it. Of course I was outraged. I couldn't imagine it could cost that much just to replace a lens but I was even more surprised that so much damage could have occured by placing the glasses upside down. I of course jumped to the conclusion that the man was taking advantage of my son and trying to get a new pair of glasses out of a boy's mistake. (Though, my son probably should not have touched the man's stuff in the first place) When I spoke with my husband about it later, we decided to ask our Rav if our son was liable for the damage halachikly, and it turns out he was.

But to minimize the costs we decided we would call the man and ask him if we could take care of the replacement lenses ourselves. (Having an uncle in the eyecare business, I was hoping we could get it fixed for cheaper).

My husband called the man, and then told me that as soon as the man heard who was calling, he laughed. The whole thing was a JOKE meant to unnerve my son, worry him, or scare him, all of which it did. The man even mentioned that another boy watching this whole exchange thought it was funny too.

My son did not! Not when he couldn't imagine he did that much damage by something seemingly so innocuous, not when he asked if it would really cost that much, not when he had to call a Rav and say he might have damaged someone else's things, and not when he had an argument with his father about not doing things that might have big consequences even when seemingly small.

I so don't understand this type of joke. I have never understood or liked practical jokes. So much so, that I am likely to unfavorably judge anyone who does think these types of jokes are funny. To me, it seems that if the only way something is funny is if another person is embarrassed or scared or made fun of, it can't be that funny in the first place. Any joke that must be at someone else's expense is inherently not funny. It only makes the person playing the joke feel better. And for how long? They got a laugh at someone else's expense, and if lucky got others to laugh too- thereby making the butt of the joke more embarrassed and themselves the life of the party on another's cheshbon. This man likely left shul without giving it another thought. My son (and I) were bothered most of the day. At first because he was upset he had damaged the glasses (when that seemed so unlikely based on the action) then because that is a lot of money to pay for small mistake. Then a bit of embarrassment to call the Rav and admit the mistake. And most especially later when he found he was just the butt of a silly joke. I was bothered for most of the same reasons and in addition having had an argument with my husband about not being Dan L'chaf Zechus about the man asking for that kind of money for something that seemed so unlikely to me. So here we have a situation where one man (and possibly some onlookers) had a moment (or two) of thinking something is funny and as a result caused all sorts of anguish, embarrassment, argument and bad feelings.

Do you think it was worth the "joke?"