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Showing posts with label scouting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label scouting. Show all posts

Monday, April 11, 2011

in which I thought I would die

This past weekend was supposed to be our first camping weekend of the season.  I had helped to organize a camping trip for about twenty Cub Scouts and their families at the Blue Ridge Scout Reservation in Hiwassee, VA. 

We would camp at Camp Powhatan, located in the mountains of Virginia.  Close communities include Draper, Pulaski, and Dublin.  To get to camp, one must drive out into BFE, crisscrossing a stream via low-water bridges and traversing an old gravel road.  The path seems to go on forever, before you finally pass through the camp entrance.  You really are out in the middle of nowhere.

Friday evening, my family prepared to drive into camp to meet up with a few other families who were part of our "advance crew."  We would set up camp before nightfall so that there would be less rush before the Pack arrived Saturday morning.  This is typical of any camping event that I plan; we always go early to make sure we are ready for the group.

We stopped in Dublin, VA on the way to drop Katie off with Nana, who would be taking care of her all weekend.  We also got gas.  While we were at the station, I noticed that the sky seemed to be clouding up a little, but thought that the rain might hold off for awhile.  At 7:30 PM, we arrived in camp.


As we pulled in to our campsite, with another family on our tail, the volunteer Campmaster arrived.  Figuring it was a social greeting, I walked up to say hello.  That's when I heard the words that I have feared ever since the devastation at a Scout Camp in Iowa in 2007.  "Don't unpack," he told us.  "There's a tornado warning for four counties."  The warning included Pulaski County, our current location.

We were ushered up to the Dining Hall, a cavernous building at the center of camp.  I had never realized just how the unsubstantial the building seemed until we had to use it as a makeshift shelter.  The building serves its purpose well as a dining hall, but I sure didn't feel secure on Friday night.  There are a few walls that separate the kitchen area from the dining area, screen windows, and two Big Ass Fans.  If I remember correctly, it is a steel building on a concrete foundation.  However, it was our best bet to get out of the incoming storm.  Many other buildings were locked for the season or too far away to reach within a short amount of time.



As we entered the main dining area, the lights began to flicker, and then went out.  We had only the two emergency lights to rely on, as nobody had taken the time to grab a flashlight from their vehicles.  Let me tell you... an ominous feeling fills the air when the power goes out as a bad ass storm approaches.  I felt as if I was in the middle of a bad horror movie.  The air was still, but we could hear the thunder and see the flashes of lightning.  The sky was slowly turning a strange color of green.  "Well, at least it isn't raining," I cheerfully observed.  Then, the downpour began.

Rain pounded the metal roof and the trees violently swayed in the wind.  If a tree fell across the road, we were told, we wouldn't be able to get out until someone came in to cut it down.  Brilliant news!  If the water rose and crossed the bridges, we also wouldn't be able to get out until it went down.  How fabulous!  The storm kicked up another notch.  Looking through the windows, it appeared as if we were floating in a pot of green soup.  All visibility was gone.  No one could hear anyone else over the roar of the storm above us.

Our two families sat against the innermost wall as the storm passed overhead.  My husband, brave fellow, walked around the dining hall, observing the sights through the various windows and peeking through the door.  Later, he claimed that he saw a "strange trail of smoke" coming from the top of one of the surrounding mountains.

As the worst of the storm let up, another one of our leaders came in the back door.  He had been out in the midst of it, trying to reach camp with his son.  Not long after he arrived, another wave of wind and water came through.

We decided that we would spend the night in the Dining Hall.  The rest of the night was no less eventful.  My husband and I drove to Dublin to pick up the last few supplies we needed for the Scouts.  While there, we learned that tornadoes had touched down in nearby Pulaski.  Upon returning to camp, we learned that we had a fourth Pack leader on the reservation, but we had no clue where he was.  There are three camp grounds within the confines of the Blue Ridge Scout Reservation and, we assumed, he could be at any of the three.  After alerting the Campmasters and the Ranger, we ultimately located him in a tent in the area in which we were supposed to camp, but it was a harrowing thought that he and his son may have met danger.

Soon after, we learned that there was a strong possibility that the stream would be over the bridges the next morning and that we would be stuck in camp.  At that point, my husband and I decided to throw in the towel and leave.  If the bridges were to be flooded, our campers would not be able to get to camp, nor would we be able to leave.  Additionally, we had no idea as to the safety of our daughter and John's mother, who were traveling through the worst of the storm.  It was time to go.

The other three leaders opted to stay the night, justifying the decision by the idea that it was better to stay put if you were safe, than to venture out into the woods.  More storms moved through the area that evening, but none so bad as the first.  They all arrived home safely Saturday afternoon.

To the Campmasters who were watching for us to arrive, I am grateful.  Though the Dining Hall would have been blown to bits had a tornado hit, we were safer there than anywhere else.  We were also very fortunate that we were not struck by a tornado.  If you take a look at the map below, Hiwassee is located directly to the southeast of Draper, in the line of the two tornadoes that touched down in Pulaski and Draper, rated EF-2 and EF-1, respectively.  God was looking out for us that night and, for that, I am humbled.

Roanoke Times

Friday evening, there were more than 400 residences destroyed in Pulaski County, and 50 others were damaged.  Clean-up is in progress and there are many families who have lost everything.  This was the worst tornado-producing storm to strike Virginia in seven years.

John's mom and Katie were fine.  While they were driving on I-81, they would have passed exit 92, where the tornado crossed the interstate, about ten minutes before the storm got really bad.

View tornado damage here.
Roanoke Times story covering damage caused by Pulaski tornadoes.

Thursday, March 31, 2011

hey, boo boo (spoiler alert)


Last night, my family watched the Yogi Bear movie for the first time.  You know, the one that came out last Christmas.  We got it on demand through Amazon, which was great.  Using our Roku box, we streamed it right onto our television and were able to watch as a family.  Or, part of a family.  Katie wasn't interested, so John had to go entertain her.

Overall, I thought the movie was great.  I had read reviews back when it was in theaters that left me with a poor impression of the flick.  However, I didn't take note of any cussing, revealing outfits (some skirts were on the short side, but there were no titties bouncing), or inside "adult" jokes.  Yogi Bear seems to be a clean family film.  Hooray!


However, I do have some beef with the writers or producers or whatever the hell you want to call the people who are ultimately responsible for the ideas that are depicted within the movie.  I was quite appalled to learn that the psuedo-bad-guy, Ranger Jones, played by T.J. Miller, was an Eagle Scout.  Now, normally I appreciate representations of Scouting in the media.  But, this guy's Scouting background was brought up repeatedly in jokes and cat-calls.  Furthermore, and this is the spoiler for those of you who have not watched the movie, he didn't behave as a Scout would.  This guy was easily convinced to betray his boss and the park facility, though everything about the set-up went against the Scout Law.  He even admitted it.  He said, to some effect, "I'm a Scout, I'm loyal, I can't do this."  But, he did anyway.  The young man valued leadership (at least, climbing the wooded ladder), but did not respect his supervisors.  Furthermore, he was depicted as a complete dumbass.  Someone so utterly lacking in intelligence, respect, dignity, loyalty, and work ethic, would never complete the requirements to earn his Eagle rank, which reflects poorly on the Boy Scouts of America.

Granted, it is a movie.  However, any parent of a young son may see this character and determine that the Boy Scouts don't focus so intently on character development, or that the leaders really do just pass the boys along the ranks with no real effort.  Of course, Ranger Jones returns to his roots in the end, in a prodigal-son moment in which he effectively saves the park.  But, at that point, the damage is done and there is no further mention of Scouting or upholding the Scout Law.  Absolutely appalling.


What would I change?  Would I take the references to Scouting out?  No, not necessarily.  Scouts do make mistakes.  They aren't perfect.  They do try to correct their wrongdoings, as Ranger Jones did.  And, they can be made fun of for being Scouts, as Ranger Jones was.  But, why?  Do we have to continue the teasing?  Couldn't they have reinforced the characterization of a former Scout without the lame comments?  Did it have to be included at all?




If you saw a Scout behaving badly, would it diminish your view of the Boy Scouts of America organization?  If you saw an Eagle Scout acting as if his head was hollow, would you seek out the help of said organization to help instill character and values in your son's life?  If you have recently seen the film, do you think the characterization in the movie has any impact upon the Scouting movement at all?

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

national camp school

Pussy cat, pussy cat, where have you been?
I've been to Brown Summit to see the Queen.
Pussy cat, pussy cat, what did you do there?
All weekend I did nothing but sit in a chair.

Queen Robin, that is, camp director or lead instructor or something of the Boy Scout's of America's Southern Region Camp School that was held this past weekend.  I suppose she was more of a cowgirl than a queen, but whatever.  And, I didn't quite sit in a chair all weekend, but it certainly felt like it.  

We enjoyed 15 hour days with a few breaks and a few games.  Luckily, the staff was so goofy that we had lots of laughs.  And we won dingle-dangles for our den flags.  So, it wasn't so bad.  But, it was tiring.

I have come home exhausted, with a newfound respect for all the camp directors who put on quality camps each year.  To be honest, I'm still overwhelmed, but I'm going to break down what I need to do into baby steps and try to accomplish one or two a day.  I have three months and one week to pull it together and I will most definitely need all of that time. 


Thursday, March 3, 2011

something witty

I feel like I should be writing an absolutely brilliant post right now, since I'm Friday's Featured Blogger over at Mommy Only Has Two Hands (which is AWESOME, by the way. Much thanks to Heather!). But, I've got nothing.

I've been featured!  

Nothing terribly witty or brilliant, that is.  Quite honestly, I'm feeling exhausted and overwhelmed at the moment.  The house looks like... well, let's just say that I would refuse to open the door should anyone stop by.  I couldn't even just run and hide the dirty dishes in the bedroom.  It's that bad. 

It is 10:45 on Thursday evening and I'm about to go to bed, which isn't really anything new.  In fact, I think I may be up later than usual.  But, I'm really, really tired.  And, really, really whiny.  Things could be way worse, I know.  We are blessed in so many ways.  But, I just want to really sleep in.  Like, a go to bed whenever I want and not get up until noon sort of sleep in.  And, I want to do it because I can, not because I'm sick.

I'm about to depart to Brown Summit, NC to attend National Camp School.  A few months back, I wrote about how I'm going to be the director for the Cub Scout District Day Camp this year.  This is the training I have to take in order to be certified to take on this enormous task.  I feel like it is the day before the first day of high school.  Or, the day before I left for Woodbadge.  But, worse because I won't know anybody AT ALL.  
My friend Jannine pointed out tonight that Camp School is actually better than either of those other two experiences.  Why?  Because you don't have to do homework.  Um, yeah....  I think she's wrong.  My homework is going to be coming home and putting together a stellar camp for a hundred or so Cub Scouts.  That's all.  No biggie.

So, there's my monthly whine.  Sorry it had to land on a feature day.  Take a gander at my other posts.  You may find that you like them better.  Or not... you know, whatever...
A campin' we will go
A campin' we will go
Hi-ho-the-derry-oh
A campin' we will go




Sunday, February 13, 2011

see ya on the slopes

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Today, I took Alex to Winterplace Ski Resort for Scouts on Skis. I was a little surprised that we didn't see any other Scouts from our unit, but had a great time anyway.


Alex took two different ski lessons and buddied up with another Scout (and Scout Mom) to hit the trails.   We also spent some time at the snow tube park, which was great fun.  Alex is already asking when we can go back.  I think we have a skier in the making.

I, on the other hand, did not ski.  I wasn't too eager to bust my butt in front of a few hundred people, so I stuck around the lodge.  Maybe next time.  Maybe.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

derby day

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We're up early this morning because it is an important day in a Scouting household. Today is Derby Day, Pinewood Derby, that is. Little wooden cars will go flying down a wooden track, racing to the finish in just two short hours. Boys and their siblings will vie for the seats closest to the finish line, the better to judge the winners and the losers. Some kids will walk away with trophies. Most kids will not. This becomes an excellent teaching tool for parents and Leaders alike. You can't win them all.

I like the idea of the derby. I like the premise that elementary aged boys are given blocks of soft wood to shape into a car, attach wheels, and then race. I don't like the competitive spirit that goes into it. Now, don't get me wrong. I strongly feel that we shouldn't reward all the kids who participate in any given activity. There should certainly be winners and losers. Everyone should not go home with a trophy. However, the weeks leading up to the race can be stressful ones for parents.

The pressure to build the baddest, fastest, car on the block sends dads, and some moms, into a tizzy. From ordering special parts for their cars (guilty), to ordering professionally-made cars, to figuring out the perfect placement for the weights, the perfect shape for aerodynamics, and creating the smoothest possible axles, the derby can get a little extreme.

While we've gone over the top in years past, this year we opted out. Alex chose his design, though it certainly won't be the most aerodynamic car there. He had it cut out at the Pinewood Derby Workshop, hosted by our district. He brought it home and sanded it to his liking, and we pushed no further, even though the car is still rough and oddly-shaped. He chose his paint colors and design and painted the car on his own, with the exception of one oopsie-fix by me. We added the wheels just this morning.

Are we underachieving? Or, are we recognizing that this should be a fun event and placing less pressure on our son to get it right? He most likely won't win. He most likely won't even place. But, at least he hasn't spent months preparing for failure, as we have in previous years. At least his creativity shines through. I think he enjoyed making the car, as much as he could. He's not really a woodworker by heart.

So, the race begins soon. It will be an interesting morning, full of excitement. We'll go, we'll race, we'll leave. And, then we'll be done for another year.

I would post a picture of Alex's car, but I'm too comfy on the couch at the moment. Also, I don't have a lot of time for that right now. We leave in thirty minutes and I have yet to shower. Later, my friends. Later.

Friday, January 7, 2011

the race begins

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Six months ago, I agreed to take on an enormous project.  Since October or so, I've been having nightmares about it.  They're sort of like those showing-up-at-high-school-in-your-birthday-suit nightmares.  Total humiliation.  Lack of preparation.  Enormous break-downs.  Lord, help me.



My son is a Cub Scout.  As a result of his interests, and my husband's cajoling, I am a Scout Leader.  Not long after I signed up, I had a conversation with my husband.  It seems like it was right after a District Camping event.  We were sitting there talking about how much fun we had had that weekend.  I mentioned that I really admired the way that the District put on events.  They were very enjoyable.  I felt like I might want to help with them at some point in the future.

Cub Scout Adventure Camp, 2008
Camp Powhatan

About a year later, I was asked to serve as the Cub Camping Chair for the Big Lick District.  It has been a wild ride.  I've had a blast.  Now, I'm facing my biggest challenge yet.

Spookoree Family Campout, 2010
Camp Alta Mons


I am the Day Camp Director for 2011.  Yikes!  This is what I've been tossing and turning over.  This is what I've narrowly survived doing in my dreams.  This is the source of my anxiety.

At first, I attributed the nightmares to the fact that it seemed too early to start planning.  I had too many other balls in the air for the moment.  I had to get through introducing myself to my new den (I'm a Webelos Leader, too.)  I had to get through Spookoree (the fall family campout).  Then, there was Katie's birthday party.  Not too long later, I had to survive Webelos to Woods in freezing temps with all 7 of my Webelos Scouts.  Then, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's.  Now is the time to start.

But, still, there's more to do in addition to planning Day Camp.  Alex's birthday is quickly approaching, plus a Blue and Gold Banquet that I'm now planning, a Pack campout (again, planning), Gold Rush (district family campout), which I'm overseeing, and my den.  Does it ever stop?

Yet, I'm hoping the anxiety and cold sweats will stop.  We're starting to plan now.  We had a meeting last night.  I'm starting to line up volunteers.  We may have a location.  I'm going to camp school, where I can actually be trained to do all this stuff.  Time for a deep breath.



Here's my plea to all my creative readers... The theme is CSI: Cub Scout Investigation.  While I'm (thankfully) not also in charge of programming, I like to contribute what I can.  Send me your best craft, game, or decorative ideas that match the theme.  I would so appreciate it!

**Photo Credit:
"I'm fed up and I'm not going to take it anymore!" by A. Starkey via a Creative Commons License
"hand prints" by timsnell via a Creative Commons License

Monday, December 6, 2010

weekend recap

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 Raked leaves for someone who needed a little help

 Played with snow

Snow's COLD!

Built and decorated a gingerbread tree.  Ate a lot of candy!

Went to Sesame Street Live

Squealed with delight over seeing Elmo

What did you do?

Sunday, December 5, 2010

a sunday rant

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Oh. My. God. If I could just get five minutes of peace and quiet in the morning, I'd be happy. But, I think the only way to make that happen is to get up before everyone else. When Alex insists on getting up between 6:30 and 7 AM every day, including weekends, that seems to be darn near impossible. What can I say? I like to sleep.

This weekend, my husband has been kind enough to get up with the kids both mornings. I really appreciate the extra sleep. But, when I do finally roll out of bed around 8:30 or so, I am bombarded with questions, as if I had been away for days. Today, the kids woke me up by playing catch. Right outside the bedroom door. Throwing a ball. Or, maybe two balls, seeing from the evidence. What fun.

Groggily, I got up, walked down the hall, and around the corner to the kitchen. My plan was to fix a pot of coffee, so I might be a more pleasant person as the day wore on. Do you know what I found? A dog. That is, a dog standing in the middle of the kitchen table. Yes, on top of the table. WTF?

We need to go grocery shopping again today, though we just went yesterday.  Of course, I forgot to buy a couple of things on my mental list.  You would, too, if you only kept a mental list and had to take both kids and your husband shopping.  Distractions, anyone?  Also, I thought we had two more full boxes of cereal in the house, enough to last two weeks.  Upon getting up this morning, I discovered we had half of one.  I swear, my oldest kid would eat every last crumb in the house at one sitting, if given the chance.

photo by gmnonic, via a Creative Commons license
 What do you do?  How much should a nine year old eat?  Should I let him eat whenever he wants, as long as the food is healthy?  Or, should I attempt to moderate his intake?  He is a normal weight (seriously, not just normal for now, but completely normal).  If he says he's hungry, which he claims to be all the time, do I feed him?  Really, I feel like I wouldn't be able to keep any food in the house if I let him eat however much he wanted, whenever he wanted.  I have trouble keeping the snacks stocked now.

Fifty years ago, I bet parents didn't worry about this sort of thing.  But, with the rising obesity crisis, how can one not worry?  Even the so-called "healthy" snacks aren't as healthy as they used to be.  We have over-processed every last morsel of food.  Even when it appears to be whole, it has been sprayed with pesticides, chemicals, waxes, and other toxins.  The food that we eat is slowly killing us, and yet we always want to eat more.

Yesterday, my son's Cub Scout den went and raked leaves for a woman who's husband is terminally ill.  He has leukemia and was just readmitted to the hospital on Wednesday.  She is watching the love of her life die, and though she is a physician, she can do nothing for him.  One day, this will be us.  Not my family, per say, but all of us.  We are the fattest nation in the world, yet we are the most undernourished and chemically stressed.  How many of us will actually die of old age?  How many of us will pass due to something like cancer, caused by the carcinogens that we have so easily welcomed into our homes?

So, what do we do?  Do we ignore the risks and live the best lives that we possibly can?  Do we go to the other extreme and only buy organics. locally grown foods, and hormone-free meats?  Do we grow all our own fruits and vegetables, so that we know what is in or on them?  Do we raise chickens in our backyard? Will that even help?  There is cause to wonder.

photo by Darin Barry, via a creative commons license

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

your wife looks like misery

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This is where I spent my weekend, camping on a farm.  It was cold, but it was beautiful. 

It was a great Scouting weekend.  Lots of food, lots of fun, lots of laughter.  A water balloon catapult (in near freezing temperatures!), a course in fire starting, and another in orienteering, all held around a much-needed campfire in the company of friendly Scouts and Scouters.  But, oh my gosh, it was cold.

Scoutmaster K prepared a delicious pot of Texas Ranger Stew for dinner.  He threw in hamburger, tomatoes, corn, rice, onions, and some other stuff.  Heated it all up and served it with bread.  This stuff really hit the spot as the sun was going down.  We sat around the fire, ate, talked, and joked with one another.  But, soon it was time to go to bed.


Here's a quick word of advice:  Always look up before you pitch your tent.  Having neglected to examine the trees surrounding my chosen spot, I place our tent underneath a nearly-dead pine tree.  When the wind picked up after the sun went down, and Mr. Hull and I were tucked into our sleeping bags trying to snooze, the tree began to creak.  I spent most of the night praying that the tree would not fall on us or those in the surrounding tents.  According to my husband, pine branches fall like spears and are often called "widow-makers."  Lesson learned.  Always look up.

I can also tell you, with much accuracy, that coyotes have definitely claimed the area in which we live.  Sometime after Mr. Hull woke with a startled shout around 1 AM (he was so cold he thought he had died and gone to hell), I heard the yips, yaps, and yells begin.  The trio of farm dogs charged across the cow pasture towards the sound of the incoming intruders.  After a bit, things settled down and I was
finally able to sleep.

The next morning dawned after many hours of restless tossing and turning.  Upon seeing my morning face, an old friend told my husband that I looked like "pure misery."  Wow, thanks!  Truth be told, I had an enjoyable weekend.  And, I know that the boys that we were with absolutely did.  This was the first camping trip for some.  To know that I have had a hand in giving some young Scouts a memorable experience that will help them continue along the Scouting Trail and further enable these boys to grow into men of character makes the cold, the fear, and the coyotes all worth it.
Would I do it again?  Absolutely.  Next November?  Nah... I think I'll advocate for June!

Sunday, October 17, 2010

one mean mommy

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I saw the depth of my son's love for animals yesterday.  I got a glimpse of his caring heart, his sensitivity, and his sadness when Mommy wouldn't help a poor, possibly hurt bird.

image source
We were walking around the neighborhood, selling popcorn, as all good Scouts do during the month of October.  One of the first houses we came across had a large, curving, red staircase out front, in lieu of a regular, flat walkway.  You see, the house was up on a hill.  As we were trudging up all those steps, we came across a small brown bird.  It was just sitting there on the walk, obviously alive, but not moving.  Unlike most birds, this one did not fly away when we approached it.  I quickly pushed Alex past, knowing that the bird was probably injured, but also realizing that there wasn't much we could do for it.

As we continued up the stairs, my son asked me why the bird was just sitting there.  I answered honestly, that it was probably hurt.  This answer, though honest, was harsh to my little boy.  His face fell and he wanted to know why we couldn't help it.  In my head, I was thinking, "Because it is just a bird."  I told him that we would likely have to pay a hefty vet bill if we should seek help for the little bird, and it would likely die anyway.  At that, Alex became very quiet.

Now, if I had been thinking properly, I could have called the local Wildlife Rescue organization and they may have come out to collect the bird.  However, it wasn't my home, the owners were obviously home (though they did not answer their door to buy popcorn-- the turds!), and I didn't want to hang around any longer than necessary.  Nor did I want to call a wildlife group to their doorstep to collect a bird.  However, as Alex lamented the possible death of the bird throughout the rest of the day, I realized I made the wrong decision.

This could have been an opportunity to teach a special kind of kindness to my son, but I let it pass by.  What if it had been a dog or a cat, instead of a bird?  Would I have helped it then?  Yes, more than likely.  But, I still think that one must exercise caution when handling unfamiliar animals.  The last thing I want to do is bring a disease into my home, either by the actual animal or it's germs.  I don't want to put my children in danger for the life of a bird. 

What would you have done?  Would you have made the phone call?  Would you have collected the animal and taken it home to try to save it?  Or, would you have attempted to turn it into a failed lesson about the cycle of life?  That all things must pass away?  What are your thoughts on the matter?

Friday, October 1, 2010

Poptober

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source
Welcome to Pop-tober!  If you haven't noticed, Boy Scouts everywhere have been selling popcorn to raise money to support Scouting.  Well, wouldn't you know that my son is no different?  Alex is selling his heart out, but he needs your help.  You see, if he sells $600 worth of popcorn during the first two weeks of the sale, then he'll win a trip to Virginia Tech to participate in a program full of interactive scientific experiments, designed specifically for our Council's Top Popcorn Sellers.  Alex wants to be an engineer, so this would be HUGE for him.

How can you help?  I'm glad you asked!  Just go to Trail's End, enter my son's Scout ID number,
8204455
and place an order.  Your popcorn will be mailed directly to you.  

What's so great about Scout popcorn?  Well, it tastes super yummy, doesn't have any of those nasty trans fats, and comes in new eco-friendly resealable packaging.  Less packaging means less waste and more money goes directly to support Scouting!

Thanks for considering supporting my son in his endeavor, and supporting Scouting in general.  Regularly scheduled posts will resume tomorrow, but this was important enough to tell ya'll about.  Besides, who can say no to a Cub Scout?  He begged me, I tell ya!
'

Monday, September 27, 2010

Rain, rain, go away

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It has been a rainy couple of days around here. Our temps have gotten cooler and more fall-like, which is great, but we can't get out and enjoy it because it is so wet. Also, Mr. Hull started building a storage shed on Saturday, but is unable to resume work until Tuesday because of the forecast. On a better note, our freshly planted grass will have lots of water to aid in it's growth.

With all these home improvements taking place, it is a wonder we've had time to do anything else. However, we have been even more active in Scouting, as I am my son's newest Den Leader. Katie has gone back to Melody Makers and storytime at the library, and I am in the midst of reading a delightful novel called The Gin Room. So, all is well in Hull-land. We're off to start another wet, yet exciting day. Ta-ta!

Monday, September 13, 2010

monday briefs

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What a week in the Hull Household!

To start, I flooded our main bathroom last Tuesday by leaving the sink stopped up and the faucet running for TWO hours.  What a mess.  We had to call Servpro to come do an emergency cleanup and we're still working with them, and the insurance company, to get things all squared away.  The silver lining?  When it's all said and done, we'll essentially have a new bathroom.

Then, that same day, all hell broke loose in my son's Cub Scout Den.  Since we weren't happy with the Pack that we had gone to last year anyway, we decided to hop back over to where we had first belonged.  Thankfully, their leaders are welcoming us with open arms and we should resume normal Scouting operations within the next two weeks.  No one messes with my Alex!

So, I've been quite busy handling clean-ups and repairs, as well as social organization drama.  Is your head spinning yet?  Mine is!

We're looking forward to a semi-normal week.  Melody Makers today, golf for Alex tomorrow, and entertaining workmen in between.  Fun, fun, fun.


Now it's your turn.  Give us a brief rundown of recent events, a rant, a rave, or a vent.  It's all up to you, but keep it brief.

The rules:
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  2. Comment below.
  3. Link up.
  4. Visit and comment on as many fellow briefings as possible.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

What I Did At Summer Camp

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1. Walked a goat.  A real one.  Not my husband.
2. Cracked a geode.  Again, a real one. 
As opposed to a geo code*
3. Got wet.  Really wet.

4. Touched a snake.  Believe me, this was big.

5. Slept on a metal cot with no pillow in a tent with flaps that didn't tie
all by myself
while a real, live, pink-speckled bear wandered
through the campsite. I'll tell you more about the bear later.

(not my picture, I found it somewhere on the internets,
but can't remember where, and doctored it up a bit.)

*what's a geo code?

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Determination





This picture was taken by a wonderful photographer, L. Thomas Bryan

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Let 'em go... let 'em grow



These pictures were taken at a Webelos Resident Camp that my son and I recently attended.  (No, they are not of my son.) They demonstrate a trend that is manifesting itself in the lives of parents across the country.  Parents are afraid to just let go.  They are afraid to let their children fail.  In the pictures above, Jeremy (not his real name) has been given the opportunity to scale to the top of a climbing tower.  Prior to this, several Scouts had successfully made it to the top.  Then, it was Jeremy's turn.  At first try, he was unable to get his foot on the first peg to propel himself up the wall.  After floundering for a bit, his stepmother jumped in to help.  She tried lifting him, she tried giving him a leg up, she tried everything she could to get the boy to climb the wall.  Sadly, nothing helped.  In the second picture, notice that Jeremy is just hanging there.  His stepmother has stepped away.  Rather than lift him up, as some of the leaders requested, the climbing instructor is letting him hang.  Jeremy is far enough off the ground so that, if he really wanted to, he could get a firm grip and begin to climb.  But, the instructor won't do the work for him.

That's how it should be.  If, as parents, we continually do the hard stuff for our children, how will they ever learn?  How will they grow stronger in their abilities, and more certain in their strengths?  We can't hold their hands forever.  We have to let them either climb or fail.  If not, they will never go anywhere.  So, stop the helicoptering.  Stop giving "one more" leg up.   Stop pushing so hard.  The failures of our children do not belong to us.  Let them flounder a little.  They deserve to grow.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Steppin' Out

Last spring (as in, the spring of '09, as opposed to the spring of '10, which would be this past spring), I had the opportunity to attend Wood Badge, a leadership training course for Boy Scout leaders.  The catch: my husband had already gone, so I would be on my own.  In the deep, dark woods.  Without my family.  yeah.

Also, I would be leaving my 6-month old nursing daughter behind with her father.  I would be the first nursing mother to attend the course.  I would have to have special allowances to pump.  I would need a private room.  The course was scheduled to take place over two weekends, each a month apart.  So many reasons not to go.

I verbally committed, then backed out.  I just couldn't go.  It wasn't my thing.  So, sorry.  I reconsidered.  It was a great opportunity.  Something for me.  I would have a blast.  I really should go.  So, I signed up.  Again, I started to have second thoughts.  In fact, I was even questioning myself as I drove away that first morning.

When I arrived at Camp Powhatan, I was greeted by smiling faces.  Though I was thrown into a group with five other people I'd never met, they were friendly and understanding (for the most part).  We quickly learned that we would be called the Antelope Patrol (snort, snort, snort) We learned, laughed, and played together.  We bonded over plates of camp food and games of skill.  We became accustomed to working together as a unit.  It was a wonderful experience and I looked forward to the second weekend, during which we would be camping out.

There were no second thoughts in regards to returning, though I had never carried my supplies in a pack, while being led on what was touted as a "three mile hike." (Wood Badge miles, you see...)  I had never camped without my husband and family.  While I knew how to pitch a tent, cook over the fire, and generally take care of myself while camping, I had always had my husband to rely on.  He was there to scare away any wild animals and turn out the lantern after I went to bed.

The first night went fairly well, but the second night was a challenge.  Sometime in the middle of the night, I was awakened by a huge clap of thunder.  The woods outside my tent lit up.  Rain came pouring down.  The ground shook with thunder and the sky was alight with lightning.  I scrunched down in my sleeping bag, clutching my mini maglite (smart choice, holding a metal flashlight in a thunderstorm), and praying that we would make it through to morning. We had no other shelter at our immediate disposal.  We had nowhere to go.  The only choice was to stay put and ride it out. 

As the storm subsided and I slowly drifted back to sleep, I couldn't help being a bit proud of myself for weathering the elements on my own.  Though my patrol-mates were in tents just feet away, they were all inaccessible for the duration of the night.  I had camped on my own, in a thunderstorm, and survived.





This post was inspired by Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop, prompt #3, Steppin Outside the Box.

Friday, March 12, 2010

Good Ol' Ottari

I love going down to the Blue Ridge Mountains Council Scout Reservation, especially visiting Camp Ottari.  Though I've only been a couple of times, the campground holds some very special memories for me.  We camped there when I was so pregnant I was about to pop (quite literally, only 4 weeks before Kate was born).  It was also where we took Katie camping for the first time, when she was 6 months old, in April 08.  We had a really great time with good friends and I can't wait until we can do it again. 



This post was inspired by Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop.  The prompt was to share some stories and photos about what you love about spring.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Candy Pop Tutorial

Recently, I helped to throw together my son's Cub Scout Pack's Blue and Gold Banquet.  For those of you who are unfamiliar with this annual tradition, the Blue and Gold is a dinner that typically takes place in February to celebrate Scouting.  This year, the theme was "Happy Birthday Scouting," as the Boy Scouts of America are currently celebrating 100 years of Scouting in America.

Going along with the theme, what birthday party would be complete without some sort of favor?  Now, of course, we could have chosen to go with chintzy plastic bags of spin tops and skittles, but we I wanted something with a little more class.  Which brings us to.... the Candy Pop!

I had never before made candy pops, white chocolate shapes attached to a lollipop stick and covered in cellophane.  But, I figured, how hard could they be?  Melt a little chocolate, pour it in a mold, pop it out, and PRESTO!  Instant party favor.  Multiplied by a hundred-and-some.  Yep, a hundred-and-some.  My oh my.

If you're crazy enough to want to play Martha and do the same thing, head on over to your local craft supply shop and pick up the following:
  •  Candy Molds- Choose your shape.  I used a fleur de lis.  If you're doing a whole lot of pops, buy multiple molds.
  • Candy Melts-- these are little white chocolate discs that you melt, kind of self-explanatory huh?  You'll need approximately one bag per two to three molds.  So, say you want to make twelve pops and each mold does three at a time, you'll buy two bags of candy.  Always throw an extra one or two in the cart just in case.  You can return them later.
  • Lollipop sticks
  • Decorator squirt bottle, kinda like an empty ketchup bottle, this is typically sold next to the candy supplies.  You can go without it, which I did, but it is more messy and difficult.
  • Clear cellophane favor bags.
  • Ribbon
  • Wax paper (optional)
Take your supplies home, send the kiddos to bed, and take a deep breath.  You're gonna DO this!
  1. Pour one bag of candy melts in a microwave safe bowl.  Microwave on low in 20 second intervals until the candy is melted, stirring as you go.  Do not let candy come in contact with any water at all, or get overheated.
  2. Spoon melted candy in the decorator bottle and squirt into the molds.  Or, just pour it in the molds, but be careful not to spill.
  3. Insert lollipop stick in the little space reserved for it in the tray (you'll recognize it).  Twirl the stick to coat it with chocolate.  This keeps the candy from falling off during rapid consumption.  
  4. Put your molds on a level space in the freezer for ten to fifteen minutes.  Don't leave them much longer because the candy has a strange habit of turning white if it gets too cold.  If needed, you can stack the molds with a sheet of wax paper in between.
  5. Gently remove pops from the molds.  They should just "pop" right out.
  6. Cover the top of the pop with a cellophane bag and tie it closed with the ribbon.
  7. Repeat until you have the number of pops you need for your party, or until you lose count and give up.

So, there you have it.  Candy Pops.  Not too hard, huh?  If you choose to make these, let me know how it goes.  And, good luck.  (kidding!)
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