Patch, Patch, Patch...

You know the expression about bad things coming in groups of three? Well I certainly had a time during the week that I was conducting camp. It began on Saturday evening at my friend Dawn's home. We were flossing our teeth. (the older we get the less inhibited we are about taking care of business) and I managed to flick my gold crown across the room! That was the beginning.

I babysat my little grandson, Dagan, after camp ended and we were walking down to Jessie's home. Actually, I was walking and carrying little Dagan in my arms. Along the road I tripped and as I slowly crumbled to the ground, I tried to shield Dagan so he wouldn't get hurt. My knee took it all and I am now sporting a scab that any ten year old would wear with pride.

The last item involved Bill and my glasses. I returned from Jessie's and soaked my knee in the bath tub. Bill was watching Dagan and came in to talk with me and sat on my glasses - popping out lenses and crushing the frame as if the glasses were made of foil. By the picture you can see they were repaired and now work just great!

I'm all patched back together now, ready to celebrate my 60th birthday this weekend. By the looks of it, the patchwork is only beginning and will be a project that I get to work on the rest of my life. Talk about a UFO, I think this is better considered an art piece in progress.

Tumbleweeds and Camp Opanana

The idea was good. I'm sure it was. After my granddaughter, Chaja, was deprived of 4-H Camp in Washoe County (already full) and Lyon County (they don't accept kids outside the county) I decided, who needs them anyway? I can do my own camp so...like the little red hen, I did.

Now I am not complaining because I had a great time, but I think I took on too much as the camp director, activity director, chaperone, cook... My comrade in crime, Randi, helped a lot but her days were shorter than mine since Helen only came for daytime activities. I was up each morning before 6:00 and crawling into my sleeping bag under the olive tree by the chicken coop by 11:00 pm.

I think the kids had fun...it's hard to tell. I ran it like a camp and they didn't have the measure of freedom they are accustomed to when they come out to the high Nevada desert. They did learn about the area with trips to Ft. Churchill and the Oxbow Nature Study.

The best thing for us, though,was getting rid of weeds. Before Camp, when Helen came to visit, she navigated through tumbleweeds growing waist high (her waist high) in our yard. Now Helen in only 4 but I could see what an issue it was for her, avoiding all the stickers and prickly branches. Then and there I decided to begin a weed eradication program, half hour of weed pulling every morning as the sun was rising to heat up the day. The piles have grown, multiplied and taken a life of their own. But to Helen I owe thanks for showing me that under all those weeds we have a delightful yard.

Camp is over but I am still fighting the battle against the tumbleweeds. I am determined and their life is withering as the days shorten. I think I may be victorious.