The Blair Lake Project

Last weekend, we went camping at Blair Lake.  Here is a list of the things we forgot:

1. Propane
2. My pillow
3. Socks of any kind.
4.  A cutting board
5. Isaiah's sweater
6. Marshmallows.  Or any sweets of any kind.
7. Bread. This would make lunch interesting to say the least.
8. And most importantly, home made ranch dip to go with the potato chips.

You know what? This was about the most memorable outdoor weekend I have had.  Who needs socks when you have each other? And grass-fed steak?

Delicious steak on a makeshift cutting board.

Poor me.

It has been a very long grey winter.  And finally the sun is shining.  And what am I doing?  sitting in my house with all the windows shut.

In the outside world, I can see people walking their dogs, their children, and mowing their lawn.  I am a jealous person by nature, so I feel envious.  I try to be happy for others, and thankful that not everyone's face turns into a puffy mess, their eyes don't all water and burn, their sinuses don't plug up, and that their lungs don't feel like they are going to collapse when they go outside. Its not always easy.

Every once in a while I can sort of remember what it is like to feel the warmth sun on my face. But for now I will just sit here, in my house, starring out the window, pretending.  The air conditioner is on, even though it is not even hot enough for the air conditioner. And I will sit here and wait....until July to go outside.

This is what happens when you are allergic to grass seed, and live in the G.S.C.W or the "Grass Seed Capitol of The World." Okay I made up that acronym. Every June, when the sun FINALLY comes out, this is what I have to look forward to.  For at least three weeks.

But I am not suffering alone. In fact, half of Eugene is suffering.  When I do run from the house to the car and manage to get myself into a store, I see people everywhere with the same puffy eyes.who were all brave enough to attempt to go out of their houses as well.  We all commiserate together.  And I remember that common sufferings bring people together.

Isaac and Elizabeth Jean

I was going to explain this picture, but I am just going to let it speak for itself.

Yum

I am going to introduce you to this wonderful culinary experience we had on Mother's day. Kolach, a Czechoslovakian pastry. Rich, egg dough with fillings. This one is Salmon, and there were also other savory ones to choose from, and sweet fruit ones as well. Sort of like a little Cuban and European in one fine dish. Too bad the day we discovered this was the same day the bakery is going out of business.  How sad, I might have kept them alive if I had known about it sooner! I wanted to take a more complete picture of this food but I loved it so much I was too impatient to wait for my camera battery to charge. So all you get to see is this one last nibble. Mmmmm....

Here is what happens when you allow your two year old to help you decorate Christmas eggs.

And what happens to my brain after decorating eggs:  I start calling them Christmas eggs.

Jedidiah, age four, is discovering the world and strikes "insterding" conversations with me and two year old Matheson:

 

Jedidiah:  Mama, do you have context?

Mama: What do you mean, context?

Jedidiah:  You know, in your eyes.

Mama:  Oh, contacts!

Jedidiah:  Yes, context!

Mama: Yes, I have contacts. Contacts help you see if your eyes are having a problem seeing. Do you have contacts?

Jedididah: No, my eyes are empty.

Mama:  Well, when you get bigger if you have a problem with being able to see, we will get you contacts.

Matheson (running from the other side of the room, in a loud exclamatory voice): I'm having a ploblem.

Mama:  What is your problem, Matheson? 

Matheson:  No, I not having a ploblem.

Me:  Okay good, you are not having a problem.

Matheson: No, I AM having a problem.

I Should Have Been a Football Player

Shortly after the Superbowl, this was written:

I think I would have fun being a football player.

Running across a field dodging people sounds like an enjoyable experience.  Then again, I am sure if I actually made a touchdown, I would probably turn around and apologize to my opponent and try to give them a chance at winning.  I guess you can say I do not have a competitive spirit. So besides running and dodging people for fun I probably would not make a good football player. Also, I am not athletic by any stretch of the imagination. I guess I will scratch pro football for any future goals. Too bad because I hear its lucrative.

Actually, I am not even sure what goes on in a football game, except for a few things:

People get crazy excited and cheer and yell and scream. They often eat potato chips with sour cream and onion dip.  Or, if you live in Oregon, they eat organic non-GMO corn chips and salsa with that contains no sugar or preservatives. (Personally, there is just something about greasy Plain potato chips and sour cream and onion dip that nothing can effectively replace.) I know the sound of football games brings back memories. They make me think of the childhood joy of lazy Sunday afternoons, listening to the wind in the trees, parrots squawking, (yes you heard me right parrots) and of course, the calming sound of a football game. And the sound of my father yelling at the screen while he haphazardly irons his blue work shirt. I can still smell the smell of cornstarch.

I also know that college, football caused many people use the opportunity to come together and throw burgers on a grill and just have a lot of fun. And caused some people to drink way too much and do stupid things.  I remember the smell of barbecue permeating the air everywhere you went on a game day, and everyone was happy.

And, now in my life, there are no parrots, and no windy days. No one is outside trying to barbecue this time of year. (Okay, besides us). And we don't have cable television. So the only chance I will be exposed to football is if I am invited to a Superbowl party.

This is what I do while I watched the Superbowl party:  I notice things like how ridiculous HD television makes everything look because the colors are over saturated. I notice how graceful manly ball players can look in slow motion, and that my son is covered with processed cheese dip and has crumbs of chips glued all over himself. (This was his first time eating processed cheese food, I will record this in his baby book) And I notice the goofy faces people make, and I think about things like: "Does winning a football game really bring people all the happiness in the world they are looking for?" 

I also notice half time. How could I not notice it?  I probably could hear it and see it from across the country, if I listened and looked hard enough. Probably, half time should be more appropriately labeled a competition. A competition to see if this year could possibly outdo last year's sensational experience.  I just have a question..... I am not sure how much more sensational it can get before it just turns into an explosion, which probably no one would appreciate.  I reminisced back on an episode of the Simpsons where  Homer decided to create a half time show at the Superbowl. He wound up doing a Noah's ark theme. What would happen if (SURPRISE!) the entire half time was  about the great flood?

Perhaps if I lived this life over again I would try to understand football. Maybe it could be fun to get excited for a team and have a thrill of watching them win, but then I would have to live with the disappointment of seeing them loose, and if they did win, then I would have to bear my sorrow for the other team who lost. For now, I think I will just sit back and enjoy making fun of the referee's sour faces......Is there even a referee in football?