At Roundup River Ranch. For freeeeeeeeeee! Compliments of Paul Newman's foundation and lots of generous doners. For kids with chronic illnesses (Flint) and on certain designated weekends, their whole family (the rest of us). So much fun. Such high quality provisions in every way. Grateful, we are!
Thursday, May 14, 2015
Thursday, May 07, 2015
Saturday, April 25, 2015
Friday, April 24, 2015
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Wednesday, April 08, 2015
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
Thursday, March 19, 2015
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
Much to my surprise, their dad wrote a post too. This blog has been active for 7 years and my husband has contributed exactly once - when he got home from the hospital on the day Clover was born - before phones were computers and every announcement was instant. So, for him to take the time to come up with something to say amid the whirlwind that is his ultra busy schedule qualifies as extra thoughtful, I think.
Not surprising at all, it's about pirates...sort of...
Whomp! He bolted out of sleep. Disoriented, he frantically looked around to get his bearings. The sound of the waves against the hull and the cold, salty air pulled him back to reality. From the crow’s nest he quickly scanned the horizon for ships. How long had he been asleep? A British Man O War could have closed in on them unnoticed. How could he? It was his watch, his responsibility. He put his whole crew in jeopardy with such weakness. After all, wasn’t he supposed to set the example? Peering over the lip of the lookout to the deck below, he scanned his crew to make sure no one saw his failure… Good, all asleep. Only he knows. “Woe to him who sleeps on their watch. Deserving of eternal sleep is he," escapes his lips in a whisper. If one of his mates fell asleep on watch he would never stand for such disregard for the safety of the crew and this ship. He would personally send them to the bottom. Even Davy Jones wouldn’t be able to find them.
Alas, what a dilemma.
Of course he would not walk the plank himself. No one knew. It was just like it never happened. Only it did. He dreaded the day he would be forced to send a mate to the sharks knowing full well his bones should already be soaking at the bottom. What was one more lie to add to a very distinguished career?
In his contemplations, he remembered the treasure. Where was it? He had been asleep far too long. It was gone.
He jumped from the crow’s nest and slid the ratline to the shrouds of the mizzenmast and scampered down the ropes leaping off to land with a thud on the deck below. “Up with yourselves!" shouted the man. The crew sprang up from their rightful slumber. Stumbling from their groggy state, they scurried to attention before their captain.
"Where’s me treasure? It was just with me.” The crew could tell the captain meant business. They saw he was fully armed. In their proper places rested three pistols, a cutlass and his favorite knife. They also knew he had some other nasty tools hid inside of his lavish overcoat. They were not prone to trifle with the captain. That’s why he was the captain after all. Right? That, and he always made the right decisions and led them as a proper captain should, to plenteous plunder, of course. “Again, I say where’s me treasure?" The crew had finally assembled to order. The captain walked back and forth in front of them. Pacing like a lion in a cage at the zoo. So help him, if someone had stolen his treasure he would unleash a wrath beyond measure. The sea could not tempest in comparison. “No patience, have I. Where’s me treasure?"
The seven pirates shifted uneasily before the scrutiny of their captain. As Whitebeard looked at his crew, his anger softened. Surely none of these would have taken his treasure. How could they? The treasure was the pride of them all.
Sure, he could see how they might want it for themselves. So did he. They were pirates after all. The code dictated that the strong can take for themselves whatever they may. Yet his crew and this ship were special. They shared their plunder openly and usually evenly. But now the captain was angry. He wasn’t sure if his anger was because the treasure was gone or that by his weakness the treasure was gone? If he had been strong and done his duty with more care would the treasure still be with them?
The captain snapped back to the moment when the three light skinned pirates drew their swords and ran across the deck in search of the treasure. Shouting and screaming with all kinds of noise looking for the one thing they all desired to have. (These three mates are strong and brave and would battle anyone for the protection of the treasure.) “Have ye checked below capin?" asked the first mate. (She is a witty one, that girl. In good hands they be when the captains gone.)
"Who will be checkin for me?" said the captain. Two buccaneers spoke at the same time, “I will” and “yarrr." (The captain knew who they were, because it was always the same two volunteering first.) Off they ran.
Unable to be patient, the captain sprinted to catch up with the crew. They all searched below in a wild frenzy. It was not in the forecastle or the galley or the hold. The bilge house and the capstan room did not have the treasure either. The captain felt grateful to not be alone in this time of loss and guilt. This crew had been through a lot together. They had followed him into battle and danger and trusted him to keep them safe. For the most part he had performed well. He would be a better captain though. They deserved it.
Despite his own weakness, his insecurities, he could be stronger. He would be a better leader. It would just be easier if he had the treasure. Where was it? “Here I be” came a voice from the stern of the ship. The captain and crew stood in dim light and looked upon the treasure, the jewel of the Kansas main.
Beautiful. Lovely. Priceless.
Everyone was relieved. She was safe. The treasure’s treasure ran over and hugged her. (She was the little one of the crew who brings all of them luck.)
The captain met the eyes of the treasure. In those eyes he saw the truth. He saw that she knew of his failure. He knew that she covered for him. She kept watch while he slept.
As the captain stood dumbfounded in this realization, she winked at him and with a wry smile she yelled, "get ye to your posts you scurvy dogs, there be work needen done."