At the end of November I reasoned that since winter obviously wasn’t coming, I might as well get another load of mulch for the gardens. That night it snowed, and the mulch froze into the truck bed. It was immovable, so Bob covered the load with a tarp and parked the truck for the winter (sort of a bonehead mistake, but really it did happen overnight).
In the last few weeks, flower beds have emerged from the covering of snow and the solid block of mulch started melting.
Today was the end of the truckload, thanks to Sam.
Here’s another shot of Sam shovelling mulch. Teenaged labor is a beautiful sight that gives me deep maternal joy;
Sam’s question was, What do I get for being so helpful emptying the truck?
You get to live with us, I explained.
That’s fair, he said, but can’t I have something else?
The kid’s a slick negotiator. We settled on pasta with white sauce and proscuitto.
Exactly three months ago Sunday, shortly after ski season started, I got a phone call at noon. “I broke my face,” Sam said. He had landed short when he jumped a road, and his knee hit his lip. He looked like he had a cleft palate.
Bob picked him up at the ski area, and I met them at the hospital. I realized that my child had become an autonomous individual when the doctor came in and my sixteen year old took charge. “I’m Sam,” he said, and shook the doctor’s hand. “Take your time with this, Doc, ’cause I have all day.”
He went home with seventeen stitches in three layers. I hit my face with a ski last spring and had twenty-eight stitches, so we knew the naturopathic drill of vitamins and later massage with castor oil . Three months later you can see that his scar will disappear in time.
My stitches came out exactly one year ago (Sam took my scar picture and I took his) and it’s amazing to me that you can’t tell which cheek the ski went through (left on the photo).
I don’t know if time heals all wounds, but certainly castor oil can take care of the scars.
A friend had her boys shovel the roof, and they built up a jump on the edge with a major landing site below. They were literally sledding off the roof.
They got big air
they had distinctive styles
and they all did runs
except for the youngest, who jumped.
And this guy did his handstand off the edge of the roof especially for you.
Bob decided that with so much snow, we needed to shovel off the roof. The thought of moving so many tons makes me feel like a delicate flower, plus I’m sure the roof is a very dangerous place for me to be. Luckily, Sam and a friend were just back from skiing, and we picked up another friend making four strong men for shovelling.
The turkeys were alarmed by the noise, and perched high in the ponderosas until everyone was down from the roof.
By the time the job was done, the boys were ready for food and another adventure.
In some ways, teenaged boys are the most useful creatures on earth. They are so active and need so many calories that they’ll shovel tons of snow for goodwill and food. When I explain which treat can be ready by the time they complete some onerous task, the job is as good as done. At the core, their motto is something like “Can Move Mountains for Food”; mine is “Will Cook”.
Recent Comments