Treasure Nest

My father always keeps a collection of interesting treasures on his dresser. At Camp Laf-A-Lot it's a nest with a special acorn, a seashell, a cocktail umbrella, an abandoned egg from the Eastern Phoebe who lived outside the door and a perfectly preserved dragon fly. That's my dad.

Laf-A-Lot Party

Back from the big family celebration -- but of course, there were matching T-shirts. To protect their identities, this is but just a small selection of campers who submitted to the glowing gold.

Among many highlights: The nightly 5pm Cocktail Cruise around the lake! Comes with cold drink in hand, cheese and crackers, plus a boat-by check in on the local loons and baby eagles. This is #1 on the list of "best cocktail hours" in the world. drink! food! wildlife nature tour!

Canoe ride through the lily pads and past beaver dams. I come from a family of experienced paddlers. Lots of time at summer camp spent standing knee deep in the lake and practicing the J-stroke technique.

Artsy camp photo series -- minnow cluster #23 and grill fire magic #6.

My dad says that Usinger's make the best sausages and hot dogs in all the land, but "I'm sure others are okay too." We did not disagree and stuffed ourselves with bratwurst. Check out "Milwaukee's Favorites" from their gift offerings.

This champagne cork came from a bottle that had been saved for 50 years. A romantic notion, but only the brave dared to drink the bubbly. Note to self -- drink leftover wedding champagne soon. Tomorrow?

All weekend -- full moon view over the lake at the end of the dock.

Happy Mother's Day

A five-handed Sazerac toast to my mom, because she is the best. Really. Why?

* Because the best response to the question why? is "Because I said so!" More moms should use this and stop explaining things to their children.
* She invented the Birthday Fairy who wakes up Birthday Queens with Birthday Balloons and lets you do ANYTHING you want ALL DAY.
* She is ridiculously silly and refuses to take anything seriously (recognize anyone?)
* She sang bedtime songs (like "Mairzy Doats") and read to us, a lot.
* She let me climb trees and wear cowboy boots with shorts.
* She loves to travel to faraway places and smuggles rocks, plants and other "found" objects back into the country. She presents them with great awe. "This rock is from Africa!"
* She took us all to the Art Institute of Chicago and quizzed us on Impressionist painters. Ballerinas? Degas!
* We all had to memorize Robert Frost's "Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening" and recite it around the holidays.
* She checks big decisions by asking, "Is it your heart's desire?"
* She embellishes stories so they sound more exciting.
* She drove me (for three hours) to see The Kinks play on my eighteenth birthday and sat in the car reading until the concert was over. (see "birthday fairy" above).
* She still tells me that I shouldn't hide my light under a bushel barrel.
* She pinches me very hard so I remember historic events.
* We had "no thank you helpings" of things we didn't want to eat.
* She encouraged my independent streak.
* She told me I was great at everything (which made all praise suspect).
* She says things like "What's the trouble bubble?"
* Sometimes she answers the phone in the voice of Eleanor Roosevelt or says "Hello, Pine Bar!"
* She gets weepy at parades and watching the space shuttle launch.
* She loves my dad, even when he's grumpy.
* She jumps up and down and hugs me a lot when she hasn't seen me in a while.
* On July 4th she makes everyone wear T-shirts that read "Camp Laf-A-Lot" and leads a march around the yard singing "We Love Our Flag!"
* She taught me that it was very important to vote.
* Because she put up with my adolescence without killing me (or making me go into therapy).

Happy Birthday Silly Sister

It was my older (ha!) sister's birthday yesterday. I'm wishing her a happy birthday via blog TODAY to see if she is still checking this thing. She's the only person in my family that knows about my secret blog. A blog that is so secret that it is published for all the world to see.
My sister and I shared a room growing up, and once we got past the kicking and biting and scratching part in our tweens, we became great friends. We were even college roommates for a while, which worked out nicely and involved no kicking and scratching at all. However, there may have been a little rebellious rum drinking and cigarette smoking.

My sister and I share the same family coping mechanism -- responding to most things with hysterical laughter -- which provided us with long jags of giggling until our stomachs hurt. My father started to call us the Silly Sisters (who are actually a real musical act that I now know and love -- but not as much as I love my sister.)

Happy Birthday Silly Sister -- and don't tell mom I have a blog!