| Feynman, Richard Phillips | |
| Windwalker, Stephen | |
| Weber, Steve (Stephen W.) | |
| Collins, Carolyn Strom | |
| Collins, Carolyn Strom | |
| Walker, Barbara M | |
| Leslie, Clare Walker | |
| Cusack, Cyril, 1910- | |
| Smith, Philip, 1967- | |
| Spoken Arts | |
| Green, Kathleen | |
| Gold, LauraMaery | |
| Griffith, Mary, 1953- | |
| Trelease, Jim |
Sunday, August 19, 2007
My most recent library wish list
Monday, July 30, 2007
St Brigid of Kildare is now in session
Today was the first "official" day of classes at lovely St. Brigid of Kildare in Kankakee County.
We started with playtime and then breakfast, then Reading (15 minutes) and Bible Story (Supposed to take 15 minutes but took about 8) . Reading is just Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons. Kiddo HATES this book, but we are already up to Lesson 75, so he will just have to live with it for a few more weeks. Bible Story is easy: I read him a story, and then he narrates back what he heard.
Then I let him take a break and watch a video about Caterpillar machines. That was the bribe for finishing his reading lesson. I used that time to do housework.
After the break, I had him read to me. Then we had planned to take a nature hike for PE (his choice--I don't care what we do so long as its active!) but he got side tracked and got in the pool. I used some of that time to put laundry on the line (right next to the pool--don't worry!) and the hopped in with him. Good times! I also did a reasonable amount of ballet exercises so got in a good workout that way. Coming back inside, I showed Kiddo haw we are logging our exercise time to earn a President's Award for Physical Fitness. He's into awards, so he thought that was a cool idea.
Then kiddo goes off to watch another video (I allow 2 per day) and I let him eat lunch in front of the TV because by now I am TIRED. Hubby comes home. There is a period of debate and confusion regarding my broke-ass van which has spent 6 of the last 7 weeks in the transmission shop and still runs exactly the same as it did when I took it in. This is a SERIOUS ISSUE now because Ted's POS Toyota finally gave up the ghost and I got that bit on news today, too. So I had to call the tranny shop, chew some ass, go to the tranny shop with husband and kiddo in tow, practically kidnap the mechanic and force him to go on a diagnostic drive with me. In the end he did tell me there is some sort of pressure in the lines that he did not notice before. I have to take the van back tomorrow so I can drop it off and use his car until he gets my van fixed the right way this time. He knows he needs to fix the tranny right because it's just a matter of time before I start wondering if I really needed the other $2400 worth of work he did.
So then we stopped at the Library. I was there Friday, but forgot my card. I spent awn hour picking out books (including tracking sown books I had selected Friday, but could not check out) only to discover I STILL did not have my card. I just found it, about one second ago, while typing this. (Well, actually I took a break to search around). It was under my desk. Dunno why.
Never mind. Now that I have the card, I can pick up the stack of books I reserved tomorrow, when I drop off the car. Joy.
Anyway, we came home from the Library and had a snack while Ted shopped for used cars on line. I did a quickie Goegraphy lesson with Kiddo. Geography for First Grade consists of Richard Scareys' Busy, Busy World, and a globe. Each story in the book is about characters who live in a different country. There are a lot of pictures, many of which show things that are unique to the location. For example, today's story was about London. It showed several unique London Guards, London Bridge, and Buckingham Palace. We read the story and talked about the pictures, and found England on a map and a globe. We did this for preschool, too, without the globe. It's fun.
Then we went on the long-awaited nature hike, which took MUCH longer than expected. Found some deer bones by the creek. We meant to pick them up on the way back but forgot. Also found a discarded tire to use for a swing. Ted will have to grab that tomorrow on the way home from work.
We got home by 8:30 and I had dinner on the table by 9:00. Kiddo showered and put on jammies before dinner. Grilled cheese sandwiches on home-made bread, roasted veggies, and vegetable soup. Hubby in bed by 10, kiddo watched a video (I'll admit it, I'm weak!) and had a snack, then we read Irish Fairy Tales and A Child's Garden of Verses until he conked out, at 11 pm like clockwork.
So now I have my quiet time, which is running out. I should be in bed my Midnight, and it is now 12:09. Enough for me. Good night.
We started with playtime and then breakfast, then Reading (15 minutes) and Bible Story (Supposed to take 15 minutes but took about 8) . Reading is just Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons. Kiddo HATES this book, but we are already up to Lesson 75, so he will just have to live with it for a few more weeks. Bible Story is easy: I read him a story, and then he narrates back what he heard.
Then I let him take a break and watch a video about Caterpillar machines. That was the bribe for finishing his reading lesson. I used that time to do housework.
After the break, I had him read to me. Then we had planned to take a nature hike for PE (his choice--I don't care what we do so long as its active!) but he got side tracked and got in the pool. I used some of that time to put laundry on the line (right next to the pool--don't worry!) and the hopped in with him. Good times! I also did a reasonable amount of ballet exercises so got in a good workout that way. Coming back inside, I showed Kiddo haw we are logging our exercise time to earn a President's Award for Physical Fitness. He's into awards, so he thought that was a cool idea.
Then kiddo goes off to watch another video (I allow 2 per day) and I let him eat lunch in front of the TV because by now I am TIRED. Hubby comes home. There is a period of debate and confusion regarding my broke-ass van which has spent 6 of the last 7 weeks in the transmission shop and still runs exactly the same as it did when I took it in. This is a SERIOUS ISSUE now because Ted's POS Toyota finally gave up the ghost and I got that bit on news today, too. So I had to call the tranny shop, chew some ass, go to the tranny shop with husband and kiddo in tow, practically kidnap the mechanic and force him to go on a diagnostic drive with me. In the end he did tell me there is some sort of pressure in the lines that he did not notice before. I have to take the van back tomorrow so I can drop it off and use his car until he gets my van fixed the right way this time. He knows he needs to fix the tranny right because it's just a matter of time before I start wondering if I really needed the other $2400 worth of work he did.
So then we stopped at the Library. I was there Friday, but forgot my card. I spent awn hour picking out books (including tracking sown books I had selected Friday, but could not check out) only to discover I STILL did not have my card. I just found it, about one second ago, while typing this. (Well, actually I took a break to search around). It was under my desk. Dunno why.
Never mind. Now that I have the card, I can pick up the stack of books I reserved tomorrow, when I drop off the car. Joy.
Anyway, we came home from the Library and had a snack while Ted shopped for used cars on line. I did a quickie Goegraphy lesson with Kiddo. Geography for First Grade consists of Richard Scareys' Busy, Busy World, and a globe. Each story in the book is about characters who live in a different country. There are a lot of pictures, many of which show things that are unique to the location. For example, today's story was about London. It showed several unique London Guards, London Bridge, and Buckingham Palace. We read the story and talked about the pictures, and found England on a map and a globe. We did this for preschool, too, without the globe. It's fun.
Then we went on the long-awaited nature hike, which took MUCH longer than expected. Found some deer bones by the creek. We meant to pick them up on the way back but forgot. Also found a discarded tire to use for a swing. Ted will have to grab that tomorrow on the way home from work.
We got home by 8:30 and I had dinner on the table by 9:00. Kiddo showered and put on jammies before dinner. Grilled cheese sandwiches on home-made bread, roasted veggies, and vegetable soup. Hubby in bed by 10, kiddo watched a video (I'll admit it, I'm weak!) and had a snack, then we read Irish Fairy Tales and A Child's Garden of Verses until he conked out, at 11 pm like clockwork.
So now I have my quiet time, which is running out. I should be in bed my Midnight, and it is now 12:09. Enough for me. Good night.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Vacation From Hell Part 3 (It wasn't all bad) or, How HomeSchoolers Do Vacation
Ok, so it took me a month, but now I find I can actually look back on that vacation and smile. There were a few completely awesome moments.
Animal Sightings:
We kept a log of all the different animals we saw each day. Among other neat-o things, we saw cormorants, loons, a bald eagle, and several dozen other wild creatures. It was fun searching for new things every day.
Day trip to Washington Island:
This was really a blast. We took the car ferry across and spent the whole day there. One of the favorite things to do is go to the Ostrich Farm, where they have a petting zoo full of amazing creatures: ostriches (don't pet them--they bite!) , miniature horses, alpacas, and even a camel! This picture of the camel is a couple of years old, and the camel is now grown. He is still super-friendly and for some reason, really takes to Ted. We have several years worth of video in which the camel is hanging all over him, chewing on his hat, and giving him "camel kisses." It does not treat every body like that.
We went to the Jacobsen Museum, where one man dedicated his life to building a small vacation-cottage resort and preserving the history of the island. The kids were incredibly well behaved as the looked at the old equipment in the yard. Once inside, the looked a artifacts of Island life, from a map stone made by the Pottawatomie Indians to toys and tools of just a generation or two ago. My kiddo especially liked the old telephone switchboard (the kind where the operator physically moves plugs around) because Nana used to be an operator when she was young.
By far, the best part of the Jacobsen Museum was walking down to Little Lake with Ted, Barb, Jack, and Kiddo. Yes, there really is a lake in the middle of this island. The shores were full of lovely water irises and lotuses and dozens of dragon flies buzzed over the surface of the lake. We got interested in a really big black and powder-blue one. We were all standing on the pier watching it. Then it landed on the pier and all 5 of us got down on our hands and knees to get a closer look. The dragon fly was landing and lifting up and landing again in the same place, so Barb put her hand down where it kept landing and sure enough, it landed right on the back of her hand. She giggled softly and whispered, "It tickles!" The dragon fly flew away and came back with a house fly in its mouth. We all sat there amazed and watched as the dragon fly devoured the house fly. Coolness! As soon as the fly was gone, the spell was broken and the kids went tearing up the path to tell Mike, Sue, and Nana what they saw.
The last stop was Schoolhouse Beach. We had just learned at the museum that Schoolhouse beach is one of only a few in the world to be made up entirely of lovely, round, glacier-polished rocks. We had also seen a few fossils at the museum. Let the fossil hunting commence! I especially got a kick out of this because I suspect that Mike and Sue are creationists. While they have been hoping their kids would be on fire for Jesus Christ, I was setting them on fire for searching out evidence of evolution. (Take THAT, Mike, for spilling the beans about Santa Claus! )
On the way home, I sat on the ferry and chatted with Mom. I was really really trying to be nice. Really. But it got to be too much and I decided to go take a walk and find my husband and kiddo. Guess where I found them? On the bridge of the ferry, with the captain. Guess what my kiddo was doing? Driving the bloody ferry boat!
Now how many more postcard moments can you ask for in one day?
The Evening We Went to Kangaroo Lake:
Kangaroo Lake (info) is a body of water within the peninsula. There is a long causeway through the middle of it. One evening Mike and Sue took their kids to the drive in movie, so Ted, Kiddo, Mom, and I went to see the lake. We spotted little fishes and dragon flies ( I didn't know until later that some of them were the endangered Hine's emerald dragonfly) . Even cooler to Kiddo, the causeway's underpinning incorporates several large culverts where the lake water can flow through. Where the wanter flows in to the tube, there are cool little swirls and eddies. Kiddo spent lots of time dropping bits of grass and sticks into the eddies and watching them get sucked down. Then he ran across the causeway to see them come out the other side, where dozens of little fishes were waiting to catch whatever might come out.
After leaving the lake, we went across the peninsula to watch the sunset in Ephraim and have ice cream at the famous Wilson's. As we walked on the piers to catch a good view of the sunset, we noticed a fire boat belonging to the local department. On the way back, we met the fireman who cares for the boat, and had a chance to talk at length abut the boat and Door County life in general.
A storm rolled in, and we chased it in the car. We didn't get to see much of it because we had to cross the peninsula again and got stuck in the woods, but it was fun. Except for Mom, siting in the back seat and screaming about ax murderers in the woods.
Making Love on the Balcony:
Only one night did Kiddo go to sleep before Ted and I were exhausted. Since we had no place to put him (he outgrew the bathtub as a temporary bed a couple of years ago) we left him in the room and took some blankets out on the balcony. 'Nuff said.
Animal Sightings:
We kept a log of all the different animals we saw each day. Among other neat-o things, we saw cormorants, loons, a bald eagle, and several dozen other wild creatures. It was fun searching for new things every day.
Day trip to Washington Island:
This was really a blast. We took the car ferry across and spent the whole day there. One of the favorite things to do is go to the Ostrich Farm, where they have a petting zoo full of amazing creatures: ostriches (don't pet them--they bite!) , miniature horses, alpacas, and even a camel! This picture of the camel is a couple of years old, and the camel is now grown. He is still super-friendly and for some reason, really takes to Ted. We have several years worth of video in which the camel is hanging all over him, chewing on his hat, and giving him "camel kisses." It does not treat every body like that.
We went to the Jacobsen Museum, where one man dedicated his life to building a small vacation-cottage resort and preserving the history of the island. The kids were incredibly well behaved as the looked at the old equipment in the yard. Once inside, the looked a artifacts of Island life, from a map stone made by the Pottawatomie Indians to toys and tools of just a generation or two ago. My kiddo especially liked the old telephone switchboard (the kind where the operator physically moves plugs around) because Nana used to be an operator when she was young.
By far, the best part of the Jacobsen Museum was walking down to Little Lake with Ted, Barb, Jack, and Kiddo. Yes, there really is a lake in the middle of this island. The shores were full of lovely water irises and lotuses and dozens of dragon flies buzzed over the surface of the lake. We got interested in a really big black and powder-blue one. We were all standing on the pier watching it. Then it landed on the pier and all 5 of us got down on our hands and knees to get a closer look. The dragon fly was landing and lifting up and landing again in the same place, so Barb put her hand down where it kept landing and sure enough, it landed right on the back of her hand. She giggled softly and whispered, "It tickles!" The dragon fly flew away and came back with a house fly in its mouth. We all sat there amazed and watched as the dragon fly devoured the house fly. Coolness! As soon as the fly was gone, the spell was broken and the kids went tearing up the path to tell Mike, Sue, and Nana what they saw.
The last stop was Schoolhouse Beach. We had just learned at the museum that Schoolhouse beach is one of only a few in the world to be made up entirely of lovely, round, glacier-polished rocks. We had also seen a few fossils at the museum. Let the fossil hunting commence! I especially got a kick out of this because I suspect that Mike and Sue are creationists. While they have been hoping their kids would be on fire for Jesus Christ, I was setting them on fire for searching out evidence of evolution. (Take THAT, Mike, for spilling the beans about Santa Claus! )
On the way home, I sat on the ferry and chatted with Mom. I was really really trying to be nice. Really. But it got to be too much and I decided to go take a walk and find my husband and kiddo. Guess where I found them? On the bridge of the ferry, with the captain. Guess what my kiddo was doing? Driving the bloody ferry boat!
Now how many more postcard moments can you ask for in one day?
The Evening We Went to Kangaroo Lake:
Kangaroo Lake (info) is a body of water within the peninsula. There is a long causeway through the middle of it. One evening Mike and Sue took their kids to the drive in movie, so Ted, Kiddo, Mom, and I went to see the lake. We spotted little fishes and dragon flies ( I didn't know until later that some of them were the endangered Hine's emerald dragonfly) . Even cooler to Kiddo, the causeway's underpinning incorporates several large culverts where the lake water can flow through. Where the wanter flows in to the tube, there are cool little swirls and eddies. Kiddo spent lots of time dropping bits of grass and sticks into the eddies and watching them get sucked down. Then he ran across the causeway to see them come out the other side, where dozens of little fishes were waiting to catch whatever might come out.
After leaving the lake, we went across the peninsula to watch the sunset in Ephraim and have ice cream at the famous Wilson's. As we walked on the piers to catch a good view of the sunset, we noticed a fire boat belonging to the local department. On the way back, we met the fireman who cares for the boat, and had a chance to talk at length abut the boat and Door County life in general.
A storm rolled in, and we chased it in the car. We didn't get to see much of it because we had to cross the peninsula again and got stuck in the woods, but it was fun. Except for Mom, siting in the back seat and screaming about ax murderers in the woods.
Making Love on the Balcony:
Only one night did Kiddo go to sleep before Ted and I were exhausted. Since we had no place to put him (he outgrew the bathtub as a temporary bed a couple of years ago) we left him in the room and took some blankets out on the balcony. 'Nuff said.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Vacation fron hell, part 2
I've been trying to think of some snapshot moments form our vacation in lovely Door County, Wisconsin to share with you, but it's hard. Looking back, it seems like all the things I laughed/cried/drank over, were "Had to be there" situations.
Let' s see . . .
The Day of Taverns
The first full day there, (Tuesday) all the kids wanted to go to Pony Rides. They do that every year. In our car (my Mom's, see Vacation From Hell Part 1) there are Hubby and me in the front seat, my Mom, my son, and my 8-year-old niece in the back. Mom will sit back there the whole trip, as if it is Ted's and my job to chauffeur her around.
We got to the pony farm, and there was nobody there. Mom asked me about 67 times where the people were, if the place was still in business, etc. (She is NOT senile, just pretends to b helpless. Asking stupid questions is a way of getting attention. In my book, a question is stupid when you already know the answer and ask the damn thing again anyway.) We explained that the sign on the door said the hours were thus and so, and we didn't know where the owners were.
Plan B, my son needs to visit a dairy farm for a cub scout badge. There just happens to be a working dairy farm just down the road. It is free to tour the farm and watch the cows get milked. Very nifty. We have a brochure or an ad or something with a map to the farm, so off we go. Mom asks at least 3 dozen times in the 15 minute drive whether we are sure we know where we are going.
After seeing the cows get milked and letting the kids play in the playground, we go back to the pony farm. The owner is there, pounding in a sign at the edge of the road. We drive down the road to the barn and parking area to wait. here is a basic idea of the conversation:
Mom: Where is the guy?
Me: Didn't you see him? He was putting up the Pony Ride sign by the road.
Mom: He was?
Me: Yes. We commented on it when we saw him.
Mom: Well, where is he?
Me: Right behind us. He has to finish putting up the sign.
Mom: Maybe it's a "For Sale" sign. I don't see anyone around here.
Me: No, it said "Pony Rides." I saw it.
Mom: Well, what's taking him so long?
It turns out he has to take care of some family business, but he will be able to take us on a trail ride after 4:30. The kids take a vote where to go for lunch. All the kids want to go to PC Junction, a little restaurant where they bring your food on a train. When we get there, the place is closed. (They close on Monday and Tuesday, but we didn't know that.) What to do? After another discussion about whether the restaurant has gone out of business (similar to the one above) Ted suggests a historic tavern that used to be a stage coach stop. I'm all for it. Nobody else has any idea where to go, so by default we go on to the old stage-coach tavern.
This place is very kid-friendly (they even have kiddie meals with cookies.) There is a huge, bright bar area in the historic part of the building with two huge round bar-height tables where all the kids want to sit. Mike and Sue make hideous church-lady faces and shoo the kids out of the main bar into a tiny, windowless dining area with regular tables. Not half so cool. Ted, my resident historian, makes an effort to read the story of the tavern's history to the kids, who respond with all kinds of terrific questions. They are obviously having a ball, and learning something interesting, too. The tables are covered in white butcher paper, and we are equipped with crayons. Once the kids realize they can draw directly on the tables there is no end to the fun. So Hubby, Kiddo, and the oldest 2 of the 3 cousins are having a blast. Mom, Mike, and Sue are huddled on the other end of the table. Mike and Sue are having a strained conversation among themselves, and Mom is doing her signature impression of a turtle inside its shell. Oh, well. Hubby and I each sample a local beer. One beer each.
Once back in the car, Mom pipes up, "Are you sure Ted can drive? He's been (whispered voice) drinking."
Me: Um, yeah. He can handle one beer.
Mom: Are you sure?
Me: (gritting teeth) Yes. (I am thinking, "My kid is in this car. Do you really think I would let him drive if I thought it was unsafe?" But I don't say it.)
Back to the Pony Farm. Does this sound like a relaxing vacation to you? I am exhausted just thinking about it. Once we get there, it is decided that we will be broken up into 2 groups, due to the number of riders and lack of trail-reliable ponies. Sue and her oldest and youngest go out on the first run, Ted and I and Kiddo and the middle cousin Jack (short for jack-ass sometimes).
Here Jack sets up a pattern of behavior that will continue for the duration of the trip. Kiddo and his oldest cousin Barb have their hearts set on riding a white pony named Ghost. Jack decides he also wants to ride Ghost. Obviously, they cant all ride the same pony. Besides, it is obvious from listening to the conversation that Kiddo and Barb remember Ghost from previous years, and Jack has no clue which pony it is. He wants that pony only because the other two want it, also. Jack commences to pitch a fit, but quickly realizes the other pony is smaller, and decides he wants that one. I find the owner, who is grooming the horse I am going to ride, and go help him, leaving Ted to deal with Mom. (I'm evil.) Ted comes t help me, leaving Mom with the kids. We can hear Jack, many yards away, whining that he wants to ride NOW, and what is taking so long. I call the boys over to show them the bottom of the horse's feet and let them brush the horse. They like that, and the whining stops momentarily.
The first group is now back. Kiddo is assigned by the Pony Farm lady to ride Ghost. Jack thankfully does not protest. Strangely, once he is up on the little chestnut pony, he starts to scream bloody murder that he wants OFF the pony. He throws a full-body, screaming, hissy-tantrum, the way you think of a 2-year-old doing. If he could have pounded his fists on the floor or kicked anything, he would have. Come to think of it, he probably did. That poor horse. It works out that Jack's little brother Mike Jr. loved the ponies and wanted another go, so he got it. Unfortunately, Jack's behavior pattern--whining until he got something, then throwing a fit once he got it-- continues throughout the trip. At least one meal and one activity a day will be spoiled in this manner.
The kids now want to go swimming. Back to the resort. Mom has chosen (as she always does) a resort that is situated totally by itself, on the far side of the peninsula, at least 20 minutes drive from anything. The dining room closes st 8 pm, at which time the kids have just gotten into the pool (Piss poor planning, no?). I had figured on getting yogurt and snacks form the hotel bakery, but no. at 10 pm when the pool closes, everybody decides they want to go out for a hot meal. Everything closes early up there. I don't know why.
At 9:30, I suggest to Mom that she make a few phone calls and try to find a place that is open late. She will not do this. At 10 pm, nobody knows where to go or what to do. They are all hungry and want to eat. They will not lift a finger (literally) to help themselves. While my guys are showering, I grab a phone book and go to my mom's room. After about 2 dozen phone calls, I finally find the one place on the peninsula that serves hot food. Guess what--a tavern.
The drive to the tavern is dark, down a long wooded road. The directions are simple enough: Get on Route 57 and go 5 miles to Baily's Harbor. Mom had to ask at least a dozen times if we were lost, and if we were sure we knew where the place was. (Hey, I only know what they told me.) Then she launched into her Recital of Phobias. What if there are wolves in the woods? (fat chance) Bears? (ditto) Axe murderers? (How she fixed on this particular threat, I'll never know. But it comes up frequently.) Snakes? Do we have enough gas?
The good news is, while they do not have a separate dining area, they do serve hot, fresh food (no frozen pizza or microwave burgers) until 2 am, every day, all year, and they never close early. They don't mind kids. They have bean bags and Mega-touch. They even serve a veggie-burger. The bartender is cute and friendly. I am instantly in love with this place.
There are 3 or 4 regulars at the bar and a couple of girls shooting pool. A very G-rated bar scene. So here goes the same scenario as at lunch time. Kiddo and Mike Jr. are both sound asleep when we get there. Mike and Sue huddle at a low table, making church-lady faces and tsk-tsk-ing. Mom perches on a stool and does her turtle impression again. After we order (and I did a very nice impression of a waitress, which my family thinks I am), Ted plays beanbags with Barb and I teach Jack about the Mega-Touch while I am sucking down a rum & coke. The food was delicious. I tip the bartender $10 because she is cute and cheerful, and by some miracle, Mom also tips her $10. (Mom is a notoriously cheap tipper. She was probably afraid that one of the regs at the bar would beat her up if she didn't tip generously.)
Ted is tired of driving, so I offer to do it. Before we even get into the car, I hear:
Mom: Are you sure you can drive? You have been (stage whisper) drinking.
Me: Yes, I know my limit. (I work in a bar, remember? I drink almost every day. Knowing my limit is like knowing my height or weight or social security number. Just matter of fact for me.)
Mom: Are you sure? Maybe you should let Ted drive. (Poor Ted has had at least two beers, and has had enough of this trip.)
Me: I'm sure.
Mom: You have your child in this car
Me: (getting snarky, I'll admit) Really? I hadn't noticed.
Mom: There's no need to get nasty.
Me: I know my limit, and I'm not going to be unsafe with my kid in the car. What kind of monster do you think I am?
Mom: I just don't believe in drinking and driving, that's all.
And at this point I am about to loose it. Mom can drive perfectly well, but she refuses to drive at night because she doesn't want to. Not because of her vision or slowing reflexes or anything like that, she just does not want to.
Me: Well, then, perhaps YOU would like to drive?
We are now treated to another impression of a clam. One day down, 4 to go.
Let' s see . . .
The Day of Taverns
The first full day there, (Tuesday) all the kids wanted to go to Pony Rides. They do that every year. In our car (my Mom's, see Vacation From Hell Part 1) there are Hubby and me in the front seat, my Mom, my son, and my 8-year-old niece in the back. Mom will sit back there the whole trip, as if it is Ted's and my job to chauffeur her around.
We got to the pony farm, and there was nobody there. Mom asked me about 67 times where the people were, if the place was still in business, etc. (She is NOT senile, just pretends to b helpless. Asking stupid questions is a way of getting attention. In my book, a question is stupid when you already know the answer and ask the damn thing again anyway.) We explained that the sign on the door said the hours were thus and so, and we didn't know where the owners were.
Plan B, my son needs to visit a dairy farm for a cub scout badge. There just happens to be a working dairy farm just down the road. It is free to tour the farm and watch the cows get milked. Very nifty. We have a brochure or an ad or something with a map to the farm, so off we go. Mom asks at least 3 dozen times in the 15 minute drive whether we are sure we know where we are going.
After seeing the cows get milked and letting the kids play in the playground, we go back to the pony farm. The owner is there, pounding in a sign at the edge of the road. We drive down the road to the barn and parking area to wait. here is a basic idea of the conversation:
Mom: Where is the guy?
Me: Didn't you see him? He was putting up the Pony Ride sign by the road.
Mom: He was?
Me: Yes. We commented on it when we saw him.
Mom: Well, where is he?
Me: Right behind us. He has to finish putting up the sign.
Mom: Maybe it's a "For Sale" sign. I don't see anyone around here.
Me: No, it said "Pony Rides." I saw it.
Mom: Well, what's taking him so long?
It turns out he has to take care of some family business, but he will be able to take us on a trail ride after 4:30. The kids take a vote where to go for lunch. All the kids want to go to PC Junction, a little restaurant where they bring your food on a train. When we get there, the place is closed. (They close on Monday and Tuesday, but we didn't know that.) What to do? After another discussion about whether the restaurant has gone out of business (similar to the one above) Ted suggests a historic tavern that used to be a stage coach stop. I'm all for it. Nobody else has any idea where to go, so by default we go on to the old stage-coach tavern.
This place is very kid-friendly (they even have kiddie meals with cookies.) There is a huge, bright bar area in the historic part of the building with two huge round bar-height tables where all the kids want to sit. Mike and Sue make hideous church-lady faces and shoo the kids out of the main bar into a tiny, windowless dining area with regular tables. Not half so cool. Ted, my resident historian, makes an effort to read the story of the tavern's history to the kids, who respond with all kinds of terrific questions. They are obviously having a ball, and learning something interesting, too. The tables are covered in white butcher paper, and we are equipped with crayons. Once the kids realize they can draw directly on the tables there is no end to the fun. So Hubby, Kiddo, and the oldest 2 of the 3 cousins are having a blast. Mom, Mike, and Sue are huddled on the other end of the table. Mike and Sue are having a strained conversation among themselves, and Mom is doing her signature impression of a turtle inside its shell. Oh, well. Hubby and I each sample a local beer. One beer each.
Once back in the car, Mom pipes up, "Are you sure Ted can drive? He's been (whispered voice) drinking."
Me: Um, yeah. He can handle one beer.
Mom: Are you sure?
Me: (gritting teeth) Yes. (I am thinking, "My kid is in this car. Do you really think I would let him drive if I thought it was unsafe?" But I don't say it.)
Back to the Pony Farm. Does this sound like a relaxing vacation to you? I am exhausted just thinking about it. Once we get there, it is decided that we will be broken up into 2 groups, due to the number of riders and lack of trail-reliable ponies. Sue and her oldest and youngest go out on the first run, Ted and I and Kiddo and the middle cousin Jack (short for jack-ass sometimes).
Here Jack sets up a pattern of behavior that will continue for the duration of the trip. Kiddo and his oldest cousin Barb have their hearts set on riding a white pony named Ghost. Jack decides he also wants to ride Ghost. Obviously, they cant all ride the same pony. Besides, it is obvious from listening to the conversation that Kiddo and Barb remember Ghost from previous years, and Jack has no clue which pony it is. He wants that pony only because the other two want it, also. Jack commences to pitch a fit, but quickly realizes the other pony is smaller, and decides he wants that one. I find the owner, who is grooming the horse I am going to ride, and go help him, leaving Ted to deal with Mom. (I'm evil.) Ted comes t help me, leaving Mom with the kids. We can hear Jack, many yards away, whining that he wants to ride NOW, and what is taking so long. I call the boys over to show them the bottom of the horse's feet and let them brush the horse. They like that, and the whining stops momentarily.
The first group is now back. Kiddo is assigned by the Pony Farm lady to ride Ghost. Jack thankfully does not protest. Strangely, once he is up on the little chestnut pony, he starts to scream bloody murder that he wants OFF the pony. He throws a full-body, screaming, hissy-tantrum, the way you think of a 2-year-old doing. If he could have pounded his fists on the floor or kicked anything, he would have. Come to think of it, he probably did. That poor horse. It works out that Jack's little brother Mike Jr. loved the ponies and wanted another go, so he got it. Unfortunately, Jack's behavior pattern--whining until he got something, then throwing a fit once he got it-- continues throughout the trip. At least one meal and one activity a day will be spoiled in this manner.
The kids now want to go swimming. Back to the resort. Mom has chosen (as she always does) a resort that is situated totally by itself, on the far side of the peninsula, at least 20 minutes drive from anything. The dining room closes st 8 pm, at which time the kids have just gotten into the pool (Piss poor planning, no?). I had figured on getting yogurt and snacks form the hotel bakery, but no. at 10 pm when the pool closes, everybody decides they want to go out for a hot meal. Everything closes early up there. I don't know why.
At 9:30, I suggest to Mom that she make a few phone calls and try to find a place that is open late. She will not do this. At 10 pm, nobody knows where to go or what to do. They are all hungry and want to eat. They will not lift a finger (literally) to help themselves. While my guys are showering, I grab a phone book and go to my mom's room. After about 2 dozen phone calls, I finally find the one place on the peninsula that serves hot food. Guess what--a tavern.
The drive to the tavern is dark, down a long wooded road. The directions are simple enough: Get on Route 57 and go 5 miles to Baily's Harbor. Mom had to ask at least a dozen times if we were lost, and if we were sure we knew where the place was. (Hey, I only know what they told me.) Then she launched into her Recital of Phobias. What if there are wolves in the woods? (fat chance) Bears? (ditto) Axe murderers? (How she fixed on this particular threat, I'll never know. But it comes up frequently.) Snakes? Do we have enough gas?
The good news is, while they do not have a separate dining area, they do serve hot, fresh food (no frozen pizza or microwave burgers) until 2 am, every day, all year, and they never close early. They don't mind kids. They have bean bags and Mega-touch. They even serve a veggie-burger. The bartender is cute and friendly. I am instantly in love with this place.
There are 3 or 4 regulars at the bar and a couple of girls shooting pool. A very G-rated bar scene. So here goes the same scenario as at lunch time. Kiddo and Mike Jr. are both sound asleep when we get there. Mike and Sue huddle at a low table, making church-lady faces and tsk-tsk-ing. Mom perches on a stool and does her turtle impression again. After we order (and I did a very nice impression of a waitress, which my family thinks I am), Ted plays beanbags with Barb and I teach Jack about the Mega-Touch while I am sucking down a rum & coke. The food was delicious. I tip the bartender $10 because she is cute and cheerful, and by some miracle, Mom also tips her $10. (Mom is a notoriously cheap tipper. She was probably afraid that one of the regs at the bar would beat her up if she didn't tip generously.)
Ted is tired of driving, so I offer to do it. Before we even get into the car, I hear:
Mom: Are you sure you can drive? You have been (stage whisper) drinking.
Me: Yes, I know my limit. (I work in a bar, remember? I drink almost every day. Knowing my limit is like knowing my height or weight or social security number. Just matter of fact for me.)
Mom: Are you sure? Maybe you should let Ted drive. (Poor Ted has had at least two beers, and has had enough of this trip.)
Me: I'm sure.
Mom: You have your child in this car
Me: (getting snarky, I'll admit) Really? I hadn't noticed.
Mom: There's no need to get nasty.
Me: I know my limit, and I'm not going to be unsafe with my kid in the car. What kind of monster do you think I am?
Mom: I just don't believe in drinking and driving, that's all.
And at this point I am about to loose it. Mom can drive perfectly well, but she refuses to drive at night because she doesn't want to. Not because of her vision or slowing reflexes or anything like that, she just does not want to.
Me: Well, then, perhaps YOU would like to drive?
We are now treated to another impression of a clam. One day down, 4 to go.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Vacation from hell
Prologue
This is going to be long and difficult, much like my relationship with my mother.
The truth is, I am not sure she is a very good person for my son to be around. Hubby and I are really very concerned about several issues and we have no idea how to address them. I don't even know how I can present this so that it makes any sense whatsoever.I didn't blog all last week 'cuz I was on vacation (in a matter of speaking. It sure didn't feel like one!) nor the week before 'cuz I was busy taking my car to multiple mechanic shops to make sure it was ready for the trip, and doing other stuff to get ready.
The Car
Let's start with the car. I have been taking it to the mechanic for over a month now. Basically, every time I got it back, something else went wrong. This spring has been just terrible for dancers, but I still was doing all right up until about the 5th or 6th mechanical problem, at which point my savings was depleted. Mom lent me the money to handle that and two more repairs. I did not ask for this money; she offered it. I will also pay it back.
My Family (such as it is)
Now, our summer family vacation is a strange thing. You have to understand my family (nobody does, but that's OK) to really get a handle on this. When I was 15, I met the first great love of my life. Call him Mike. We got engaged very young, and I was probably the only girl in my Junior class with a diamond. When Mike was 18, he left his parents' pathetic and abusive home, and came to live with my widowed mom and me. Within a year, I wanted to end my relationship with Mike, and things became ugly. I finally moved out, and Mike remained. I have no idea the relationship Mike had with my mother after I left, but what I do know is that he eventually married (and so did she) and to this day he calls her "Mom." Mike and his wife Sue have 3 kids, all about the age of my son. My kid calls them "auntie" and "uncle," and vice versa.
Back in the day, one of the things that complicated my relationship with Mike was my preference for MALE friends. To be fair, he was justified in his jealousy ( Both my husbands and several other lovers were drawn from this pool of friends). In particular, he could not stand my two good friends Bill and Ted (Yes, we had many excellent adventures together) and Ted's 1966 Mustang convertible. Ted was my best friend in High School and remains so to this day. He is now, of course, my husband.
So yes, my high-school finance is now my son's uncle, and my high-school best friend is now my husband. (None of us knew Sue in those days, thank the gods, or it could get even more complicated.) Did I mention our 20th reunion is coming up this year?
Now for the roster for the family vacation: My mom (and up until this year, her second husband, who had a stroke on vacation last year and passed away last August), Mike and Sue and their tribe, and Ted and me and kiddo. Mom (and step-dad) pay for this extravaganza every year. (In the first few years, all his kids were invited too, but they stopped coming after a while. )
Further Complications
Usually, each couple takes its own car on the trip. Some days we all do something together, and some days each family splits off to do something on their own. This year, I had no car. (Ted's car does not count. It is strictly a to-and-from-work hoopdie)
Between the car drama, and my oldest cat Sula needing emergency veterinary treatment, medicine, and boarding, (another $500) we were really ready to cancel vacation. Even worse, Ted's dad had a pacemaker put in 3 days before we left, and we didn't even know if he was going to make it. The only reason we decided to go was for my son's sake, because he was so looking forward to it. And my Mom lent us more money. The hitch? We had to take her car. With her in it, of course.
My Mom
Here is where it really gets complected.
Nobody understands my Mom, not even her. To say my Mom is timid, negative, whiny, stubborn, and manipulative, is like saying the Great Wall of China is a good-sized fence. She is what some self-help books call a "toxic individual." Before I get too emotional about this, let me just give you a brief rundown:
She finds fault with everything, no matter how inconsequential. For example, she criticizes random strangers of the street for their hairdo or dress. (Not to their faces, of course)
She thinks she is better and smarter than everyone else. Her one semester of Community college and her semi-regular attendance at community theater make her more educated and cultured than anybody else. (At this point I always feel compelled to whine "And I have 2 college degrees, dammit! And I lived in Europe for 4 years. I saw castles for God' s sake!")
She is afraid of everything. Snakes, cows, horses, owls, the dark, you name it. If there is a legitimate thing to be concerned about (small children playing close to the road, for example) she will amplify it to the point where she will want all the kids to come in from the playground because a car might jump the ditch and hit them. If she can't find a plausible threat to occupy her, she will make one up. (Jason, pythons in Wisconsin). Need I add, she has absolutely no sense of adventure?
She has no tolerance for any viewpoint other than her own. None. In a related issue, she is unable to differentiate fact from opinion. In her mind, her own opinions are facts. False information that she believes to be true or wants to be true is fact. (She believes meat cattle are treated humanely, for example, because the government would never condone cruelty to animals.) True information that does not fit her perception of reality is "just someone's opinion." If someone challengers her version of the "facts" she will defend it by saying "I'm entitled to my opinion."
She takes everything personally. If I don't like her choice of restaurant because there is nothing for me to eat (besides being a vegetarian, I have some food sensitivities) I can't point it out because she will get defensive and launch into her routine about how she (the wronged party) just wants everyone to have a good time at this nice restaurant that we (the unwashed masses) don't appreciate, and why do I have to be such a food weirdo, why can't I just shut up and have a nice burger on a white-flour bun like everybody else?
And there absolute worst part is, no one can have a logical conversation with the woman. Not only is her mind made up already, but if you even hint at having a dissenting opinion, she shuts down completely. This is impossible to describe except by analogy. Picture a turtle sucking itself into its shell. Or a clam snapping shut. It's like that. It's almost imperceptible, but unmistakable.
So to tie it all together
Here I am on vacation (supposedly) with my car in the shop with an unspecified amount of pending repair work, my cat at the borders with an unspecified bronchial infection, my father-in-law less than a week post-op, and a pathetically small amount of expendable cash. I am stuck in the car with my mother who believes that I am her chauffeur, and my husband who is rapidly beginning to hate my mother. Because I have no wheels of my own, I can't leave the hotel without Mom, who will not do anything without Mike and Sue. I spent exactly 7 minutes alone with my husband the entire week. At every meal, the foremost question in my mind was, "Does this restaurant serve alcohol?" For convenience and economy, my drink of choice in the hotel room was Bacardi and Diet Coke (Because you can pour the Bacardi in the top of the can and walk around with it.) I killed a fifth of Bacardi in a week. Well, OK, I had help. But still . . .
But wait, there's more
To be continued in another post . . . .
This is going to be long and difficult, much like my relationship with my mother.
The truth is, I am not sure she is a very good person for my son to be around. Hubby and I are really very concerned about several issues and we have no idea how to address them. I don't even know how I can present this so that it makes any sense whatsoever.I didn't blog all last week 'cuz I was on vacation (in a matter of speaking. It sure didn't feel like one!) nor the week before 'cuz I was busy taking my car to multiple mechanic shops to make sure it was ready for the trip, and doing other stuff to get ready.
The Car
Let's start with the car. I have been taking it to the mechanic for over a month now. Basically, every time I got it back, something else went wrong. This spring has been just terrible for dancers, but I still was doing all right up until about the 5th or 6th mechanical problem, at which point my savings was depleted. Mom lent me the money to handle that and two more repairs. I did not ask for this money; she offered it. I will also pay it back.
My Family (such as it is)
Now, our summer family vacation is a strange thing. You have to understand my family (nobody does, but that's OK) to really get a handle on this. When I was 15, I met the first great love of my life. Call him Mike. We got engaged very young, and I was probably the only girl in my Junior class with a diamond. When Mike was 18, he left his parents' pathetic and abusive home, and came to live with my widowed mom and me. Within a year, I wanted to end my relationship with Mike, and things became ugly. I finally moved out, and Mike remained. I have no idea the relationship Mike had with my mother after I left, but what I do know is that he eventually married (and so did she) and to this day he calls her "Mom." Mike and his wife Sue have 3 kids, all about the age of my son. My kid calls them "auntie" and "uncle," and vice versa.
Back in the day, one of the things that complicated my relationship with Mike was my preference for MALE friends. To be fair, he was justified in his jealousy ( Both my husbands and several other lovers were drawn from this pool of friends). In particular, he could not stand my two good friends Bill and Ted (Yes, we had many excellent adventures together) and Ted's 1966 Mustang convertible. Ted was my best friend in High School and remains so to this day. He is now, of course, my husband.
So yes, my high-school finance is now my son's uncle, and my high-school best friend is now my husband. (None of us knew Sue in those days, thank the gods, or it could get even more complicated.) Did I mention our 20th reunion is coming up this year?
Now for the roster for the family vacation: My mom (and up until this year, her second husband, who had a stroke on vacation last year and passed away last August), Mike and Sue and their tribe, and Ted and me and kiddo. Mom (and step-dad) pay for this extravaganza every year. (In the first few years, all his kids were invited too, but they stopped coming after a while. )
Further Complications
Usually, each couple takes its own car on the trip. Some days we all do something together, and some days each family splits off to do something on their own. This year, I had no car. (Ted's car does not count. It is strictly a to-and-from-work hoopdie)
Between the car drama, and my oldest cat Sula needing emergency veterinary treatment, medicine, and boarding, (another $500) we were really ready to cancel vacation. Even worse, Ted's dad had a pacemaker put in 3 days before we left, and we didn't even know if he was going to make it. The only reason we decided to go was for my son's sake, because he was so looking forward to it. And my Mom lent us more money. The hitch? We had to take her car. With her in it, of course.
My Mom
Here is where it really gets complected.
Nobody understands my Mom, not even her. To say my Mom is timid, negative, whiny, stubborn, and manipulative, is like saying the Great Wall of China is a good-sized fence. She is what some self-help books call a "toxic individual." Before I get too emotional about this, let me just give you a brief rundown:
She finds fault with everything, no matter how inconsequential. For example, she criticizes random strangers of the street for their hairdo or dress. (Not to their faces, of course)
She thinks she is better and smarter than everyone else. Her one semester of Community college and her semi-regular attendance at community theater make her more educated and cultured than anybody else. (At this point I always feel compelled to whine "And I have 2 college degrees, dammit! And I lived in Europe for 4 years. I saw castles for God' s sake!")
She is afraid of everything. Snakes, cows, horses, owls, the dark, you name it. If there is a legitimate thing to be concerned about (small children playing close to the road, for example) she will amplify it to the point where she will want all the kids to come in from the playground because a car might jump the ditch and hit them. If she can't find a plausible threat to occupy her, she will make one up. (Jason, pythons in Wisconsin). Need I add, she has absolutely no sense of adventure?
She has no tolerance for any viewpoint other than her own. None. In a related issue, she is unable to differentiate fact from opinion. In her mind, her own opinions are facts. False information that she believes to be true or wants to be true is fact. (She believes meat cattle are treated humanely, for example, because the government would never condone cruelty to animals.) True information that does not fit her perception of reality is "just someone's opinion." If someone challengers her version of the "facts" she will defend it by saying "I'm entitled to my opinion."
She takes everything personally. If I don't like her choice of restaurant because there is nothing for me to eat (besides being a vegetarian, I have some food sensitivities) I can't point it out because she will get defensive and launch into her routine about how she (the wronged party) just wants everyone to have a good time at this nice restaurant that we (the unwashed masses) don't appreciate, and why do I have to be such a food weirdo, why can't I just shut up and have a nice burger on a white-flour bun like everybody else?
And there absolute worst part is, no one can have a logical conversation with the woman. Not only is her mind made up already, but if you even hint at having a dissenting opinion, she shuts down completely. This is impossible to describe except by analogy. Picture a turtle sucking itself into its shell. Or a clam snapping shut. It's like that. It's almost imperceptible, but unmistakable.
So to tie it all together
Here I am on vacation (supposedly) with my car in the shop with an unspecified amount of pending repair work, my cat at the borders with an unspecified bronchial infection, my father-in-law less than a week post-op, and a pathetically small amount of expendable cash. I am stuck in the car with my mother who believes that I am her chauffeur, and my husband who is rapidly beginning to hate my mother. Because I have no wheels of my own, I can't leave the hotel without Mom, who will not do anything without Mike and Sue. I spent exactly 7 minutes alone with my husband the entire week. At every meal, the foremost question in my mind was, "Does this restaurant serve alcohol?" For convenience and economy, my drink of choice in the hotel room was Bacardi and Diet Coke (Because you can pour the Bacardi in the top of the can and walk around with it.) I killed a fifth of Bacardi in a week. Well, OK, I had help. But still . . .
But wait, there's more
To be continued in another post . . . .
Sunday, June 3, 2007
Free will and religion
The first "religious" thing I remember learning in Catholic school is, we all were created with free will. As I understood it at the time, God didn't want to create humans to be pets or automations, who would do whatever he wanted them to do, just because it was in our instincts to do it. No, God already had animals for that, and they weren't all that exciting. God wanted us, as intellectual beings, to be able to choose to love him or not.
I must have stopped paying attention after that, because I never did accept a lot of the propaganda and brainwashing that so many of my Catholic friends and even my husband has swallowed hook, line, and sinker. I never believed in Original Sin, for example, because it just didn't seem fair to me. (Original sin is the idea that the disobedience that got Adam and Eve kicked out of the Garden of Eden is somehow biologically transmitted to each one of us. Some Christians call this "sin nature," which is a more apt term). Some other ideas I never bought were that our "sins" today somehow increse Christ's suffering on the cross in the past, that whole concept of Purgatory, and that saying a certain number of prayers can ease your sins. It turns out that many of the concepts I considered "suspect" in my youth, were inventions of the Catholic church for reasons that had more to do with politics and money than with religion or the Bible. No wonder the Catholic Church fought the invention of the printing press and universal literacy!
I decided on my own that Free Will means you have to make your own decisions about what is right and wrong, rather than let somebody else tell you. It means there are a whole bunch of different religions out there so people can have a choice. And it also means that we, as individuals, are responsible for making informed decisions as to what we choose to believe and how we choose to live. By my logic, "One True Faith" and "Universal Truth" are impossible ideas. The fact that so many people interpret the Bible in so many different ways, just goes to show, there is no "right" way to do it.
We, fallible humans that we are, just do not have what it takes to know the mind of God. No more than a gold fish knows the mind of the person in whose home it lives.
I spent a lot of time in my 20's exploring other belief systems. They all had points that resonated with me, and parts that I could not accept. My spirituality incorporates a little bit of all of them, and quite a bit that I came to on my own. My belief system is intensely personal, all my own. It is a product of my own thought and research and prayer and gut feelings. I developed it using all my natural faculties for logic and intuition. And I believe that is the way my God wants it.
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I must have stopped paying attention after that, because I never did accept a lot of the propaganda and brainwashing that so many of my Catholic friends and even my husband has swallowed hook, line, and sinker. I never believed in Original Sin, for example, because it just didn't seem fair to me. (Original sin is the idea that the disobedience that got Adam and Eve kicked out of the Garden of Eden is somehow biologically transmitted to each one of us. Some Christians call this "sin nature," which is a more apt term). Some other ideas I never bought were that our "sins" today somehow increse Christ's suffering on the cross in the past, that whole concept of Purgatory, and that saying a certain number of prayers can ease your sins. It turns out that many of the concepts I considered "suspect" in my youth, were inventions of the Catholic church for reasons that had more to do with politics and money than with religion or the Bible. No wonder the Catholic Church fought the invention of the printing press and universal literacy!
I decided on my own that Free Will means you have to make your own decisions about what is right and wrong, rather than let somebody else tell you. It means there are a whole bunch of different religions out there so people can have a choice. And it also means that we, as individuals, are responsible for making informed decisions as to what we choose to believe and how we choose to live. By my logic, "One True Faith" and "Universal Truth" are impossible ideas. The fact that so many people interpret the Bible in so many different ways, just goes to show, there is no "right" way to do it.
We, fallible humans that we are, just do not have what it takes to know the mind of God. No more than a gold fish knows the mind of the person in whose home it lives.
I spent a lot of time in my 20's exploring other belief systems. They all had points that resonated with me, and parts that I could not accept. My spirituality incorporates a little bit of all of them, and quite a bit that I came to on my own. My belief system is intensely personal, all my own. It is a product of my own thought and research and prayer and gut feelings. I developed it using all my natural faculties for logic and intuition. And I believe that is the way my God wants it.
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Great quotes form my kid
Regarding when we used to go to Catholic Church:
Regarding a sea gull circling over head: (in the most authoritative little voice imaginable:
After too much teasing regarding White Vultures (in the same authoritative voice, as if we didn't know):
I never had any time to play there. I just had to sit and sit and sit and then we walked in the garden and then we went home.
Regarding a sea gull circling over head: (in the most authoritative little voice imaginable:
You see that? That is a White Vulture.
After too much teasing regarding White Vultures (in the same authoritative voice, as if we didn't know):
Actually, that's called a seagull.
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