When we announced we were taking time off this summer and closing the shop for the month of July, many people asked if we were vacationing or going somewhere exciting. It's a bit embarrassing to say that simply having my Saturdays at home is a vacation. I just love it. I thought it would be - well - harder. Usually by mid-August I wonder why I never actually mailed that Peace Corps application and devoted my life to something, anything else. But this summer, I honestly see a difference.
The 4th of July means I've already had several opportunities to sit in a nice comfy lawn chair and emerge with a popsicle stick or two decorating my behind. Wet towels, bathing suits, sunblock, skate boards, roller blades, and scooters all take up residence in the front yard straight through Labor Day. And the shoes. What is it with all the shoes and sandals? Can someone please tell me why during the summer the footwear to feet ratio gets so seriously out of whack. Most of the time they are barefoot anyway. I could never figure that out.
But this year is different. Everyone in our house is 10 years of age or older. Double Digits. Two are working full time. Yep. Max is actually working over 40 hours a week. It is...well..you do the math. He is 17 years old. He works more than a 40 hour work week in the sun and heat landscaping. He eats another 30 hours a week. Add in shower time, Xbox time, factor in absolute exhaustion from being outside all day, toss in a few hours sleep and what do you get? 20 HOURS. 20 hours. That is a mere 1200 minutes a week where he has the time & opportunity to introduce himself to yet another uniformed member of our local law enforcement. Just 1200 minutes a week.
Double Digits also has an effect on hearing & comprehension. Don't believe me? Check this out: the other day I walked into our laundry room and I smiled. Yep. SMILED. After strategically steering clear of the laundry room for several days, I bravely ventured downstairs. Izzy followed me and as we turned the corner of the basement family room, I took that very difficult first step. Then I heard:
"Oh, Mom, watch out. Don't tip over the basket. Those are my delicates. "
I shook my head. Her delicates? HER DELICATES. Was this the right house? If it was then when did the martians land? Did they come in peace and what have they done with my family? Was this not the very same laundry room where just a year ago, in an act of utter self preservation , my husband wrote "David" on his basket. Labeling his whites in a last ditch effort to ensure their safety. Sure I begged told them to do their laundry, but I didn't expect them to hear me. I've grown accustomed to failure. Let's face it I have absolutley nothing to wear to an awards assembly and so far that has not been a problem. So her delicates? C'mon!
The kids growing up and pitching in means weekends at home are even better than expected. I get to spend time watching the little darlings in the pool:
And, yes, that is our 20 year old playing pirates in the pool with the 10 year old. :)
Of course, I have lots to do during our time off. Displays and more displays. I was going to take a break. The hot weather normally makes me steer clear of any and all knitting needles for fear there might be a strand of wool yarn hanging off the end. Basically, I *detest* the heat. But I started knitting this last week:
This is the back of the sweetest baby sweater. We purchased a bunch of patterns by a french designer. The lace edge detail is lovely. And while I wanted to make one of these for the shop, I am happy to say that this sweater is taken. It is for my niece's new baby, Maya. She arrived much earlier than expected so I have to get moving. Heat or not heat.
It is really a thrill to knit for a baby. I love doing baby sweaters for the shop, but what a special thing it is to knit for a baby you know.
So, anyway, back to my double digit summer. Just as I was thinking these kids are really coming along. I get a dose of reality - Hauck children style.
Liv's car died last month. She had been saving for an apartment but a new car became a must have. I felt badly in a way - she had saved and worked hard thinking she would be moving out on her own. Then the life thing happens and she is buying a car versus dishes for her new apartment.
Anyway, the other day she was talking all about her new plan:
Liv: "I love my job. I love my new car. And I even have a plan B for the apartment."
Me: "Oh, really, what is that?"
"Liv: "Well, take a look. I figured out to have my new car and my own place...Its going to be great."
I followed her to the back door and looked out. Here is Liv's Plan B:
I just can't wait to see what the rest of the summer brings...
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