Mico

Today, I went letterboxing with the boys again. We were searching for remcat's two new boxes located near the Mico Kaufman statues in Tewksbury.

In our 8 years here in Tewksbury, we have driven past these statues so many times. They are really part of the scenery for us. The boys take little notice of them and I thought it would be great for them to see the statues up close before we left. My plan is to take pictures of various sights around town for a scrapbook that the boys can take into school with them when the start in the new school. It's also a book we can look at as a family when we are feeling homesick. These statues play a big part in the book, so going for the boxes at them was a twofer in our mind.

The first statue we visited was of Helen Keller and Annie Sullivan.

Annie Sullivan was born in Tewksbury to a poor Irish immigrant couple. When her mother died shortly after the birth of her younger brother, Annie's father felt forced to leave the children in the Tewksbury Alm's House. Annie and her brother both had an infection that killed the brother and left Annie blind. Due to her determination, Annie was able to go to school at Perkin's School of the blind, but being from a poor background, she would have to work once she graduated and where does a partially blind woman get work? Well, teaching Helen Keller of course. The statue depicts Annie teaching Helen her first word, water.

After collecting the box, we spent some time running around on the common and playing on the bandstand. The boys loved that.

Then it was on to S. Tewksbury to find the box at the fire station. We needed a good cover because there were guys surveying for the future move of what is affectionately known in that part of town as the pimp pole, a large obtrusive eyesore of a cell tower pole that was erected less than 30 feet from this statue. It was not easy taking this picture without the pole in the middle of it and I'm sure the angle I'm shooting is not the best angle for this shot. I also tried to get the boys to stand in such a way as to look like they were hanging off the hose, but they weren't listening very well.

Our efforts to find the box were derailed when a group of three hikers walked into the area. They ended up sitting right where I was sure the box was located. I suspect they were also boxers. But I didn't know the secret handshake at that point and asking if they were boxers would sort of give it away, wouldn't it? So we left promising to come back some other time.

After giving up on the muster box, we crossed the street to check out the statues at the Methodist church. This one is called Touching Souls. The children sit with the souls of their feet touching. Each child has the clear facial features of a different ethnic background. The boys are playing duck-duck-goose in this picture.


We had a great time and checked off the list one item we had wanted to complete all summer; get pictures of Tewksbury landmarks that we want to remember.

Our new house

Due to popular demand, we are including pictures of the new abode in Ohio!

The living room.

The entry

The great back yard for the boys to play. We are talking about erecting a tree house in this stand of trees.

There are 4 bedrooms, 2 full baths upstairs and a large family room downstairs.

literally

Dh asked Lastborn to go into the kitchen, in the cabinet under the sink, and get a single white plastic bag from the box he would find there.

First, Lastborn went into the kitchen and grabbed a plastic shopping bag from the table where the remains of the last shopping trip still sat. Why go through the effort of looking under the sink when there were bags on the table? We use these bags to line our trash cans, so it made sense.

"No," DH said, "from the box under the sink. Go back and try again."

Lastborn returned to the kitchen and got a white plastic bag from under the sink. This one had stuff in it.

DH scratched his head and carried it back into the kitchen to see where Lastborn had gotten this bag. DH was expecting a folded up plastic bag from the box of new plastic trash bags under the sink. He didn't think that the garbage can stored under the sink is also a box and it also contained a single, white plastic bag. Literally

There should be a law

Against teachers who request that parents send liquid soap into school with their first and second grade kids...


And then don't check every backpack to make sure all the soap has been turned in before said first and second graders get back on the bus.

Would you like to hear this story?

Law of conservation of Rs

Years ago, my brother in law coined the phrase the law of conservation of Rs when referring to the Massachusetts accent. Everyone has heard the typical pahk the cah in Hahvahd yahd refrain when picking on Bostonians, but few understand that natives are not just throwing those Rs away out of lack of respect for the power of the letter. Neigh, for every R dropped from the end of a syllable, another is placed on the end of a word where most other regions would not notice the R.

You Californians don't have the subtlety to assess the need for an R at the end of the names Rita, Anna, or Emma, but Bostonians, well, they're all about subtlety.

But something always bothered me about the law of conservation of Rs. The added R is not a universal rule in all of Massachusetts. Many regions in the state drop their Rs but don't add them to other words. For years, I was haunted by the worry of what happened to those R or how we could exist with the equation being unbalanced in this way.

But now, I can rest comfortably, for I have found the missing Rs.

Where? You ask? In Ohio!
We soon will be moving to the land of the refugee Rs. Our new address will be in Warshington Township. However, since those in Ohio can take subtlety like those in Boston, it is spelled Washington Township.

This will require some study on my part. You see, I spend lots of time translating spelling words because my sons tend to spell what the teacher says and their teachers are always adding and dropping Rs. Discovered this on a test where firstborn correctly spelled the name Connor. But the word was supposed to be corner. :-) Now, when we go over spelling words I test them both on the correct and the Massachusetts pronunciations.

premarital

The other day, we were in a restaraunt; me and the boys. I had picked them up from camp late because lastborn had a field trip that he was not arriving back from until late. When we have these late camp nights, I'd rather go out than make them wait for me to fix something hot.

Lastborn had a sticker on his arm when I picked him up. I asked if he had put the sticker on his arm or if a friend had. His response was just "no."
"No?"
"No."
"Well, how did it get there?" (the obvious question)
"A girl put it on me."
"Oh, a girl put the sticker on you? Do you think maybe she did that because she likes you?"
"No. She just put the sticker on me."

So of course, Firstborn and I started picking on him.
"She must really like you." I said.
"I bet she wants to kiss you," Firstborn said.

Lastborn took all this pretty well with no anger or frustration. So Firstborn kept pushing until I had to pull him back a bit.

"You know, Firstborn," I said. "Girls are going to start being interested in you soon. What are you going to do if one of them wants to kiss you?"

Firstborn responded with great determination.

"Everyone knows, mom, that you don't kiss unless you have been going out for at least 4 years." He said.

"Oh. Is that how it works?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "And besides I believe in premarital."

Can you guess my response?




"What?" I spluttered, not quite controlling my reaction. And then, calming down a bit and taking a breath, I continued.

"Do you know what that means?"
"Sure."
"What do you think that means?"
"It means you don't kiss until after you are married."
"Is that right? OK. We'll go with that."

So much to blog, so little time

Heard from the backseat:

"everyone is a good dancer when they have to pee."

Conversations at Ecumenical Bible School

Each year, I direct the local ecumenical bible school. Our town is quite unique in this bible school. Four churches from four separate denominations get together to put on the bible school and we hold it on the property of the largest church, the Catholic church. This affects the dynamics of the school. well, for the adults maybe. The kids seem to have no idea what church the others come from, nor do they care.

One of the greatest things about working this VBS is seeing the interactions of the adults as they come in contact with a denomination for which they are not familiar. Every year, some conversation ensues about differences. They are usually light-hearted and interesting. By far, while the Catholics make up the largest population of the school, they are most often the center of these conversations. The strong tie to ritual and tradition makes them stand out among the Methodists, Congregationalists, and Baptists.

This year, our house sale was the focus of one of those conversations. Some of the staff asked how the house sale was going. Of course, I told them of the almost 3 month struggle in this very tight market and how we were beginning to believe that we would never sell it this year.

One of the Catholic members asked if we had buried St. Joseph. Well of course, I replied. We purchased him, prayed to him and buried him head down near the front entrance of the house. But Joseph wasn't coming through for us.

The Baptists, Congregationalists, and Methodists were just listening with wide eyes. St. Joseph in the yard is not a tradition of their denominations.

One of the staff told us about how when she entered her new house for the first time they found a three foot, dirt covered statue of St. Joseph on her kitchen counter. Many of the Catholic women harrumphed. They were supposed to take him with them and put him in a prominent place in the new home.

My response was, "three foot tall? Ours is only three inches."
To which they all replied "that's your problem!" and "No wonder the house hasn't sold yet."

Even the non-catholics were able to jump in on this one. No matter what your denomination, size does matter.

I wonder how many of these non-Catholics will be burying St. Joseph next time they sell their house.