July 15, 2012—the vacation

(Disclaimer: I actually wrote this last week, but due to my lack of technological expertise, I was unable to send it. Please forgive it’s late arrival.)

I am sitting on the porch of my second favorite place in the world, enjoying my second to the last sunrise (which I enjoyed mostly from the comfort of bed, but then reminded myself that there would only be one more, so up I hopped). My brother-in-law is the only other one stirring—wait, there is the squeaky door . . . my son appears with a bowl of cereal in his hand.

All week we have been enjoying what I call the excessive relaxation of vacation. Yes, it is relaxing to be away from the shop and the house, but sometimes it is a little excessive. The food and drink is definitely excessive—I am sure everyone is regretting my choice of a bikini for our time together. We are excessive in our attempts to squeeze-in so much togetherness (there are those among us who need their alone time, if you know what I’m saying). But all-in-all, I’d say it has been another banner vacation for the family.

With the last night of our time together drawing nigh, I am forced to acknowledge the limitations of our vacation. My sister, Nikki, is recovering from a recent surgery (-ies, actually) and, naturally, my father’s presence is sorely missed. Nik is doing her best to keep-up with us, inevitably overdoing it at times, but I think we’ve all done a good job of keeping her in check. Dad’s presence is all around us: the music he loved and his quotable quotes—usually declared by one of the grandchildren—are most frequent reminders and conjure happy memories. I do miss being able to turn to him as ask him: about the history of the river; to identify a fish, bird or plant; how to fix the broken box spring on one of the beds. As promised by all of my friends, however, time is taking away the hurt and helping smiles overtake the tears.

One thing Dad loved about coming to this new cabin is seeing the new, quirky decorations Robyn and Craig have chosen for their home-away-from-home. They have procured some of the most unique items to adorn their home on the “rivah,” and there is always something new. This year, they added papier mâchê figures, most about 3 – 4 feet in height, to the rafters of the main room. They are all representative of their love for country music and the blues. They told us they were able to purchase them from a restaurant that was redecorating.

Each time we visit, my sisters and I talk about what we would do if we were able to have a cabin to our own. It is one of our favorite things to do—plan fantasy homes and decorate them. We consider our favorite plan to be a compound of sorts with a central living and kitchen area and separate wings for each of the families. (I did mention this is a fantasy conception, right?)

Anyhoo, I think the décor in your home-away-from-home should be casual, but you still need to consider practicality and comfort. A large, well-planned kitchen is essential, as we must all be able to be in there at the same time. A large, screened porch with plenty of seating is wonderful. Beds are nice, too—at least one for each of us.

As for the décor, I think my place would look much the same as my house. Old, worn furniture—no pressure to be careful with finished surfaces. Everything would be washable. Hardwood floors are a must. I am sure I’d have the water themed toss pillows and painted signs such as, “What happens at the cabin, stays at the cabin,” but I am thinking I’d have to issue a moratorium on additions to the décor without my prior approval. So, at the risk of sounding ungrateful, when you are invited to my fantasy cabin, please bring gifts of consumables—nothing I will feel obliged to display, please.

Paige Thomas King is owner of Hodgepodge, Where You Gather Your Home, at 125 Franklin St. Email her at paige@hodgepodge-home.com or visit her blog at www.hodgepodge-home.blogspot.com.

Jul 1, 2012—Vacation Packing

How do you pack for vacation? I think I pack very differently when I am packing for vacation, as compared to when I am packing for a business trip. I wonder if this is a widespread phenomenon or my unique, ill-prepared approach.

The cool thing about my job is that I give the appearance of having it “together” by virtue of the fact that I can arrange a mantel or create a coherent display in a window. All you have to do is peek over my front desk or behind the curtain into my backroom to know it is an illusion (not a very good illusion, at that). If messy desk is evidence of a creative mind—as those of us with messy desks are desperate to believe—then I am approaching the Einstein-esque genius! But we were packing . . . (Attention Deficit Disorder is something else altogether).

When I’m taking a business trip, I make a list—choosing outfits for each day, adjusting for maximum use of one or two pairs of shoes. I usually have it all ironed and ready to pack in the car or suitcase at least one day in advance. I think it’s more difficult to pack for vacation. I always have so much I want to “pack-in” during my time away (every bit of that pun was intended), I feel the pressure to make sure I have everything I could possibly need with me. Business trips are straight forward. Also, there’s less guilt in going away for business. Vacation time is just so dang self-indulgent!

As I compose this column, we are at t-minus 12 hours and I’ve only put a bathing suit in my suitcase! I will be here at work another 7 hours. There is laundry to do, last minute runs to the grocery store for en route supplies, and a refrigerator to clean! You do the math. No don’t . . . I’m stressed enough already.

What I always marvel at as we prepare for vacation trips is how the family divides-up the necessary chores. Now that the kids are of that somewhat useful age, I think I lull myself into a false sense of security that they’re taking care of the things I once did. They do their own packing, including the preparatory laundry. They no longer require entertainment devices the size of large coolers. Now, they’re happy with an IPod and a few books. They even pack their own snacks for the road.

We do have to remind them to grab the sunscreen, beach towels and other items for the “greater good,” but they do tend to their own needs pretty well. Our youngest is a planner. She has been packing in her mind for the past month. She will also be especially helpful in selecting approved outfits for her older brother; he, in exchange for her efforts, will promptly commence to mismatching or completely disregarding. Our eldest is responsible for making sure we have enough tie dying supplies to create unique apparel for each of our party of 15—one of our few pre-planned, organized activities. Oh, and in case you are wondering, it is my husband’s job to clean the car prior to the trip; the kids and I look at it as clean palette on which to create.

The truth is bathing suits will be the attire for the majority of the time. I really don’t plan to pack much more than that. I’ll be wearing my travel outfit, which should suffice for the required runs to the grocery store while there. So, I guess I’m really packed already—I just need to grab a few magazines, a book, my camera, my laptop . . .

June 24, 2012—lazy, hazy days

According to the official calendar of the King Kompound (aka: the Clarksville-Montgomery County School System calendar) we are about four weeks into our summer. Thus far, as Nat King Cole used to sing, I’ve had plenty of the “crazy,” but very few of those “lazy, hazy days.” But I guess that’s just life.

The seasons determined by the tilt of the earth on its axis have very little bearing on the level of activity in most of our lives. Sure, there are the occasional happenstances of a seasonal nature which ramp-up activity levels (Christmas, Thanksgiving, etc.), but for the most part, life is always pretty crazy for us. I try to keep things in perspective, but sometimes it is difficult.

I know that the reason we are busy running kids to-and-fro is because they are healthy, active kids, therefore they have things to do. The reason our schedule is full is because we have jobs, church and civic commitments—all good things. But sometimes it feels too crazy and you just want to stop the roller coaster ride and get off!

Pretty soon we will enter another phase of our household life—two of the three kids will be in college (one here at APSU and the other is heading to UT in Knoxville), so we will have a little less activity in the house. Thank goodness this is gradual or I’d be experiencing “lazy, hazy” at a home for the mentally deficient!

 

 

 

In the meantime, bring on the crazy with our upcoming family excursion to the aforementioned (my column from April 22nd) second favorite place on earth. The area is known as the “Northern Neck” region of Virginia; it is located on the northernmost peninsula of three located along the Chesapeake Bay. We will enjoy boating, fishing, hammock rocking, great food and even better company. This is how it is going to play out . . .

We all pile in the “family truckster”—a 1993 Suburban, held together by prayer and our dear friends at Auto MD on Seven Mile Ferry Road—and head east. We stop driving when we see water. We will start the fun at Nikki and Bill’s (my sister and brother-in-law’s) RV they leave at a park there. It is big and comfortable, but will fill-up quickly with our family of five, Nikki’s family of five and Kendall’s family of four. Needless to say, Mom will be skipping this part of our adventure.

She will join us on day 3, when we move to the cabin our cousins so generously allow us to borrow now and again. It is much more spacious and allows us to spread-out a little more, but we will have equal amounts of fun at both locations. The additional bonus at the cabin is the fact that is right on the Nomini Creek. We walk off the porch and within a few steps we are on the dock. From there, children will perform their antics (which they believe resembles “diving”), kayaks will be launched and Uncle Bill will push-off more times than we can count to pull a tube or throw some fishing lines. Our biggest concerns all week will be: is it jellyfish free zone and do we need more ice for the coolers.

Cue the “lazy, hazy” and check my pulse.

June 17, 2012—Father’s Day

This has been an emotional week for me.

As I write my column, Darren is in Knoxville with our son for his University of Tennessee orientation. Haedyn is our second to go to college, but the first to leave home. Hunter, our eldest daughter, is a student at Austin Peay. In an effort to save money, she has lived at home for the first two years of her college experience. She announced this past spring that she wants to move on campus. While we’re excited about these moves for our children, I can’t help but have a little anxious pang of panic at the two of them leaving in unison. I mean, who is going to get Hannah to gym? (Just kidding—sort of.) I’ll miss them both terribly and not just because they’re great chauffeurs for their sister.

 

I guess, however, before we move my eldest children out of the house, we should address the fact that it is Father’s Day. Those of you who read my column regularly—right after the obituaries and the comics—will recall that I wrote about all of the great stuff I learned from my mother for mother’s day. It would follow that I would write about all I learned from my dad for Father’s Day, but as the tears are welling in my eyes even trying to start this, that will have to wait until next year. Suffice to say for now, that he is, was and will always be the most influential man in my life. He showed love to our entire family, which extended to our friends, and so many more. I miss him every day.

Instead, I want to share a little bit about the guy I’ve watched become a father.

My husband, Darren, was raised by his mom. She and Darren’s dad divorced when Darren was very young. Darren didn’t know his dad very well until later in life. They spent some time together while he was growing-up, but he wasn’t an everyday dad. We did get to know him—he was a great Grandpa—and we miss him tremendously, as well.

I would be lying if I said it didn’t worry me about what kind of dad Darren would be. My Dad was such an integral part of my upbringing and influence, which caused me to wonder if Darren had received the same sort of nurturing, guidance and support. I need not have worried; twenty years into this parenting thing, I can’t imagine a better partner with whom to parent.

Darren is the yin to my yang—especially with regard to parenting. He is more disciplined than I, in many regards, but they all serve as good examples to the kids. He is physically active. He believes in the maximum, “everything in moderation.” He demonstrates to the kids that you can enjoy those vegies sautéed in butter, but you need to make sure you’re balancing it with exercise. He has taught them they are responsible for their actions or the lack of action. He has a great sense of humor and the kids appreciate it—especially that kind of humor that mom often chides as inappropriate.

As the son of a single parent, he learned to be self-sufficient at an early age. He has instilled the children with the same ethic. I admit it—I was taught many things as a child and young adult, but I probably fell back on my parents for support more frequently than Darren did. I know his mother expected a lot of him and guided him in many of his core values.

As a 22-year Army Veteran, he has demonstrated the importance of service to your country, as well as the pride found in a working hard and loyally wherever you are. Yes, he was gone for a lot of the early years as our family was developing, but influence was and is ever present. The kids knew, throughout his deployments and our many other separations, his first priority was his family.

I think he has been an amazing dad. I am fortunate to have shared this parenting experience with him.

Next week, however, all bets are off and things will be back to normal; he’ll be fodder for another kind of column!

June 10, 2012--Color me happy and the pool clear!

You will be happy to know that the Center for Disease Control is no longer rapping on the front door, wanting to move my kids into foster care due to our inability to keep a clean pool. We can claim a huge success this past week—the pool is clear and safe for human use. It is also, according to our dog that prefers water out of anything other than her water bowl, pretty tasty!

We worked every day for about ten days trying to bring it around. Thanks to our handy dandy new scooper net (nearly bent the pole with a few of those scoopfuls of leaves), our vacuum and lots of bleach, we’re back in business. Disclaimer: the writer of this article does not claim to be an expert in pool cleaning or anything else for that matter. Please consult your local experts if you’d like to know how it’s really done.

So now we are ready for a pool party. I love my Adirondack chairs which we relocated to the mini-deck adjacent to the pool. The only thing missing is a palm tree, which I pointed-out, in a rather obvious manner to my eldest (I’ve got a birthday quickly approaching).

Color me happy and the pool clear!

I think I mentioned that my mom has been visiting with us ever since Haedyn’s graduation, but I don’t think I mentioned how much I am loving having her here. Well, I am!

Ever since she left after her extended visit last Christmas, I have been missing her—for a lot of reason, not the least of which is her companionship. My husband travels a lot and it is so nice to have a grown-up to talk to in the evenings. I have been sick this week, so I’ve not been much fun to be around, plus Mom has started wearing a special mask to deter the germs—it’s a little off-putting (as they say in facebook-ease, “winky face”).

As you may have guessed, I am a pretty social person. I like having people around to bounce ideas, to share the events of the day and the such. My kids are great and listen to far more than I am sure they want to—I think it’s because they’re afraid I’ll assign a chore if they get up and walk away!

Which brings me to another great thing about having her around—she is so helpful! I now see why that whole “housewife” thing caught on. They’re nice to have! Not that she does my laundry or dusting, but if I forget to defrost, I can call her and ask her to take something out of the freezer. She is the queen of salad prep! She gets the salad ready—my least favorite dinner chore! (Washed and ready bags of salad were invented for me.) She also helps keep the kids on task—she reminds them of the chores they promised to accomplish. She is actually saving me a lot of frustration. I don’t know what it is about kids and summer “mush head.”

 

Well, in case you didn’t know the other half . . . we’d like to have her move here. So if you see her, talk-up Clarksville. Don’t tell her I wrote this . . .