Dreaming of France -- Paris Runaway Cover Reveal

Thank you for joining this weekly meme. Grab a copy of the photo above and link back to An Accidental Blog. Share with the rest of us your passion for France. Did you read a good book set in France? See a movie? Take a photo in France? Have an adventure? Eat a fabulous meal or even just a pastry? Or if you're in France now, go ahead and lord it over the rest of us. We can take it.

Since I love France so much, I find myself setting my novels there. At the end of June, my fourth novel will be available in ebook and in paperback -- on Amazon, but other places as well.
As I inch toward publication date, I'm excited to share the cover for my novel.

This photograph was taken by Virginia Kelser Jones who shares her France photography on her blog Paris Through My Lens. 

Her pictures are so inspiring and I'm fortunate that she agreed to share this beautiful one with me. 

Here's the blurb from the back cover of the book:

When divorced mom Sadie Ford realizes her 17-year-old daughter Scarlett has run away to Paris all she can imagine are terrorist bombings and sex slaves. After learning her daughter chased a French exchange student home, Sadie hops on the next plane in pursuit. She joins forces with the boy’s father, Auguste, and the two attempt to find the missing teens. The chase takes Sadie and Auguste to the seedier side of Marseille, where their own connection is ignited. Since the divorce, Sadie has devoted herself to raising kids and putting her dreams on hold, but when her daughter needs her most, Sadie finds that concrete barrier to life beginning to crack. In her journey, she learns the difference between watching the hours pass and living.

I'm so happy to share the cover for my new novel with all of you. I hope you love the cover as much as I do.

Thanks so much for playing along with Dreaming of France. I really appreciate your participation and I hope you'll leave a comment plus visit each other's blogs.

The End of an Era

Yesterday, my youngest turned 20.
No more teenagers in my house.
It doesn't really seem that different though.
I have two kids living at home. Grace has finished college, is working full time and acts in shows so she has rehearsal most evenings.
Tucker has been on and off at college. He's currently studying videography and living at home. Sometimes I wonder whether he'll end up moving to France with us when we go next May.
I have so few recent pictures of Tucker, that I had to crop a family photo to get one of him.
I started off his birthday by going to the local donut store and buying a box of donuts for when he woke up.
I also got a helium balloon to attach to the box because I'm a sappy mom and I wanted him to feel special. As the youngest, his birthday has sometimes gotten pushed aside, like the time my husband found out on Tucker's birthday that  his job was going through layoffs. It put a damper on the celebration to say the least.
And March is usually busy when the older kids are around with sports activities or college prep things.
He can't really complain though since he had two years home alone with the other kids gone to college. He definitely enjoys being an only child.

Tucker is a bit on the quiet side now, but that is not his usual nature. As you can see from this picture, he has enjoyed the spotlight. 

And even though he tries to be unassuming, he has had his share of fame in swimming and on stage.

My boys chilling on a whitewater rafting trip. I hear they had a lot of fun. 

And here, my youngest trying to warm up in my arms after a swim. Those were pretty perfect times. 

I'm glad to see him growing up and eager to see how his life goes, but I'm grateful for the times I got to cuddle him too. 

Then and Now

Join West Metro Mommy for this weekly meme of photos people have taken and share on their blogs.

This week, I spent a lot of time scanning in negatives of photos when the kids were little. 

Each picture was more adorable than the next. I posted a bunch on Facebook to oohs and ahhs.

Today, I planned to post some on my blog, showing how Grace has been an actress since the day she was old enough to choose her own clothes, but instead, I got hijacked by Spencer.

Spencer came home from college yesterday, and after eating dinner with us, Earl dropped him off at a friend's house on the campus of Ohio State. 

This morning, he called and through highly slurred words, asked if I'd pick him up. 

"Did you sleep at all?" I asked.

"No, not yet," he said.

So I traveled through the pre-football traffic to pick him up. But when I got there, he had fallen asleep and I had a hard time rousing him. I texted. I phoned. I got out of the car and walked up to what I hoped was the right door. No one answered.

As I got in my car to leave, a  young man opened the door and he must have woken Spencer because he came out and got in the car. 

On the 15-minute drive home, he fell asleep.

So why is it that this sleeping Spencer at two,

is so darn much cuter than this sleeping, tipsy Spencer at 21?

Hope you all have a splendid weekend. 

Wayward Children

Even as I write this, I can see the humor of my heartbreak; I know that someday I will laugh at the situation. And let me warn you that logic does not work with an angry 19-year-old.
"I don't even believe you're my parents anymore!" my 19-year-old son yelled as he raced down the stairs.
This was the second time he had walked away from the conversation, and the first time he slammed a trash bag against the door frame until it burst.
You might wonder what caused this outburst.
I told him that we wouldn't pay for his apartment while he attended college unless he passed his classes.
I'll just wait a minute while you re-read that last sentence. Let it sink in.
As parents, we were insisting that this boy, who went to college last year with scholarships in hand because of his high test scores, attend class and pass the classes, if he wanted us to pay his rent.
Many teenagers or young adults might be happy if their parents paid for their college. Others might be thrilled if parents paid their rent, but apparently we went too far in agreeing to pay for both if he received good grades.
If you are trying to understand this logically, give up.

Last fall, my youngest son left for a 4-year university. A perfect storm of illness, wisdom teeth infection, a girlfriend at home, and a room full of four guys convinced him that college wasn't for him. He only passed one of four classes he took.
He moved home in January and attended a local community college. Again, only passing one of four classes. In May, before we knew he hadn't passed the classes, we let him move in with a friend. The two of them started a business, which blew up, along with the friendship in July. We never liked the roommate, so were happy to have him move home. He had talked about getting a house with three other guys, one of whom went to high school with him.
This past Saturday, we scheduled my son's classes for the fall. He has decided to take a two-year welding program. That's fine, but we don't really see him sticking with a trade job. He has never been a hands-on kind of guy, the kind who likes to get dirty or even play with Legos.
While scheduling classes, I asked him to pull up his class from this summer, and he hadn't passed it, just by a small amount, but still.
The next day, I asked my son to join me for breakfast. He didn't have time. On Monday, I again suggested we go somewhere to talk. No time.
On Tuesday, I saw him in the kitchen and attempted to bring up a conversation about the possibilities for him this fall. He could return to the 4-year university and live in an apartment with his brother while taking a few classes to explore what he wants to do.
His eyes went blank, as if he'd pulled down shades, like a character from a cartoon.
"Why do you do that?" I asked. "You aren't even listening to anything I say."
"Because you always second guess me," he said.
"When have I done that?" I asked.
"Now," he said.
And that's it. Just this one time that I thought he might not want to be a welder and knowing that he hadn't succeeded in the class he took this summer.
On Thursday, he decided to make peace and let me know that he and his friends had found a 4-bedroom house to rent.
That's when I released the bombshell that we wouldn't pay for an apartment until he passed his classes.
"So I have to live here until December?" he asked.
"Yes," I responded.
He couldn't possibly do that. Living here was impossible! He didn't even want to go to school at all.
The situation didn't improve, and when he stormed out the door to go to work, I was left wondering if he would quit school and simply move out.
It's not what I want. I want to help him succeed at college, and I think I'm doing everything that I can toward that.
He came home last night after I was in bed. No one has talked about what will happen, what his future holds.
Right now, we're all kind of waiting to see what happens.
I'm sure I broke my parents' hearts when I was his age. I was rude and entitled. I traveled to faraway cities to live a couple of times.
To adults, it seems silly that he wouldn't take the offer of college and get a degree to be whatever he wants to be.
Last night, I was talking to a student, probably in his mid 20s, who told me he is having trouble getting to class because he has to take care of his 1-year-old daughter, and the girl's mother wants nothing to do with her. We talked about how difficult it is to go to school while raising a family and working.
He told me his 17-year-old sister thought she didn't want to go to college, and he was trying to convince her to do it now.
"You know," he said, "there's some people who can't learn from watching other people. They have to make those mistakes themselves before they learn."
And that rang true for me.
In the midst of my broken heart, in the midst of standing fast to the rules we've set, in the midst of loving my son in spite of his misguided path as he grows up, I know I have to let him make his own way and hope that I'm around when he's ready to ask for guidance.

Young Adults Now

Finally recovering from the graduation festivities this weekend and on Tuesday I dived right into summer classes.
So I'll just share with you this selfie taken by my two oldest children at graduation.
Spencer, home from college in Florida, and Grace, home from college north of Columbus, patiently sat through the speeches and pictures on Sunday. They let it all be about Tucker.

Hope you all are having a great week. 

Selfish

Since the beginning of the year, I've been blogging like a whirlwind, but these past few weeks, I've had my writing soul sucked out as I deal with children complications.
And I really don't want to write about them. I'm tired of thinking about them.
I'd like to just be selfish for a little while.
I have one more class to teach on Friday night and then I'm going to take some me time this weekend.
Do you ever take time for you?
What kinds of ways do you spoil yourself?

Ch-ch-ch-Changes

How are you with change?
I'm pretty good with it. This may have something to do with me being shallow. In my adult life, I've moved from city to city about every five years. If we didn't move, I would get a little antsy, like I needed something new, something different.
That has faded some as I get older. We've been in Columbus now 15 years! But we have lived in three different  houses in three different parts of the city.

Grace is exhausted by change even at age 1.

My daughter Grace hates change, but she's working on it. The other day I had an epiphany and called to tell her why she hates change. We lived in four different houses before her 1st birthday. That's the year we moved from Sebring, Florida to Tampa, Florida then Jackson, Michigan where we lived in an apartment for a few months before closing on our first house and moving into it. Four houses and the chaos that goes with it probably led to her aversion to change.
Our household has dealt with recent changes as first Grace, then Spencer graduated high school and marched off to faraway colleges. Grace accepted change once again when she transferred to a college closer to home.
But in the coming year, we'll face an even bigger change, not just Tucker graduating and going off to college, but Earl's work schedule is changing.
Earl has been working evenings for nearly five years.
It was on Tucker's 13th birthday that we learned the newspaper would have layoffs. We held our breath to see if Earl would lose his job. Luckily, he didn't, but he did move jobs from assistant city editor to copy editor. We felt fortunate that he would have a job at all with the way the newspaper business was going. And the company left his salary the same. All he lost was a free parking space.

Tucker at age 13.

The new job as copy editor required Earl to work evenings rather than days. In his previous job, he'd go in to work at 10 a.m. and come home at 8 or 9 p.m.
When he switched, five years ago, he started to work 3-11 p.m. or 4-midnight, sometimes even 5 p.m. to 1 a.m.
From the time Tucker was 13, Earl has been absent in the evenings. Now as Tucker begins the downhill slide to 18 and his last semester of high school, Earl will switch to day times again and begin working as a reporter.
He's okay with moving to the reporter position. Working as a copy editor was good because he worked his eight hours then came home and put it behind him. As a reporter, the job won't go away quite that easily. He may work longer hours and he may continue to do work at home, but he will be here in the evenings.
That may mean I have to fight for the remote on the nights that The Bachelor or The Amazing Race air. That probably means I'm going to see a lot more old movies or specials on airplanes on television.

Hottie Juan-Pablo appears on The Bachelor
 starting in January.

I'll  probably need to start making dinner regularly too. Between me and Tucker, I sometimes make a pot of macaroni and cheese or bake a pizza that he can eat whenever he gets hungry. With my husband home, I'm probably going to feel obligated to cook real meals again.
Things will change for Tucker too. When he got old enough to drive, he started coming home from school for lunch. Since I teach college, sometimes I am home and sometimes not, but Earl is almost always home. He cooks grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for Tucker, or slathers peanut butter and jelly between slices of bread. Tucker then takes his lunch and turns on ESPN for his 30-minute lunch.
This Wednesday, I had a meeting at 11:30. Earl had a meeting too.
At 11:47, my phone rang.
"Where is everybody?" Tucker asked.
I explained the meeting situation and then told Tucker he'd better get used to it since Earl moved to days in January and I was scheduled to work at least 3 days during the week.
"Do you mean I'm going to have to make my own lunch?" Tucker asked.
"That's how it looks," I said.
I knew Earl never should have started making Tucker's lunch. Now he's just looking for a handout every day at noon.
I'm sure we'll all get through the changes coming our way. Until then, I'm keeping the remote and I'll probably make sure Tucker gets lunch through next week anyway.

Leaving Behind His Teens

This week, my oldest son, my second child, turns 20.
I won't get to be with him, so that makes me a little sad, but luckily his father has flown down to Florida so they'll get to spend some time together for his birthday.

From the minute Spencer arrived, two weeks early, he has been curious. As a toddler, as a kid, as a teenager. I hope he never loses that.
Recalling Spencer as a little guy, I can hear the echo of his footsteps as he made the early morning dash from his bedroom, across the wood-floor landing toward our bed before he dived in between me and Earl. We teased him when he was little that he should wear the box instead of the shoe because his feet were so square, as wide as they were long.
Thud, thud, thud, his feet would race across the landing.
When he was very young, Earl started a thing with him. If Spencer pressed Earl's nose, Earl would beep.
One morning early, Spencer pressed on Earl's nose. Earl was too tired to respond. Spencer pressed again. Still nothing.
"Hmmm," Spencer said. "Must need new batteries."

Spencer and his Gran.

He loved castles and knights, plus swords and armor. He wanted to fight dragons and bad guys.
He's always loved sports and grew from a chunky little boy to a wiry school kid (even though he homeschooled). He practiced basketball until he injured the growth plate in his elbow. He played quarterback in 6th grade football because he was the only one who could memorize the plays.
He decided he wanted to go to real school in eighth grade, so we moved to a small town where we could enroll the kids. Grace started school then too, and Tucker followed six months later.

He's always loved being with friends, more than my other kids. Even the pictures of him as a little boy show him with an arm thrown around another guy's shoulders.
Even today, his buddies come first.

He had some tough times trying to figure out who he is and what he stands for as a teenager, but as he turns 20, I hope he's more sure about himself and his abilities.

He knows he loves nature and plans a career as an environmental scientist. He takes a kayak out on Tampa Bay and paddles to islands covered by mangroves before leaning back and sleeping in the sunshine.
So he's far away in the sunshine this weekend, taking a couple of days to spend with his dad and his grandparents (my parents), doing his laundry and eating homemade meals (steak was his first request). Also helping to paint their house because he remains a generous guy who doesn't mind helping out, even on his birthday.
Happy birthday, Spencer.
I can't wait to see what you accomplish in the next 20 years.

One Innocent Question

I asked my 17-year-old one innocent question, "Whose glasses are these?"
I pointed to the black-framed glasses laying on the counter.
"They're my fake glasses," he said.
"Why do you need fake glasses?" I asked. He has real glasses that look very similar, but he usually wears his contacts.
"It was poker night," he said.
Was that supposed to make sense?
"And?"
"That's why I shaved my beard and left my mustache last night. Then I wore the glasses for poker night."
I looked at his clean-shaven face. I'm not sure if the answers provided any more clarity.
Was it some sort of 70s poker night where they dressed in short-sleeved plaid shirts with pocket protectors, thick mustaches and glasses? Some sort of Will Farrell parody?
I'll never know.
"Did you win?" I asked.
"Oh, no. I lost bad," he said.
"Did you play for money?" I asked, suddenly worried.
"Nah, it was a dollar maximum. We played with chips."
And that was the night of a 17-year-old when his high school football team is not doing so well

New College, New Fears

My week has only gotten busier with the start of a new semester and the end of another one. But I wanted to post briefly about Grace's departure to a new college.
Grace has a hard time with change. She always has. And it doesn't matter that she can take along her favorite things, she still hates it at the beginning. So we just have to persevere until she gets to a comfortable place.
The good news is, her new college is only about 20 minutes away. Her old college, if you'll recall, was 10 hours away. To mean, 20 minutes seems much less dire, but for a girl who hates change, she feels the despair that she will never sleep in her own bed again.
We moved her in Wednesday morning with stops for coffee and for her paycheck and at the bank to deposit her paycheck. Earl drove a little pickup truck with Grace's belongings -- small refrigerator, bicycle, bins with clothes --and met us at the dorm.
In her dorm room, third floor, the bed was lofted so the desk and dresser could fit underneath. Grace wanted the bed lowered so Earl wrestled with that. We were all sweating in the tiny heat box of a room.
And then, as sheets were put on the bed and clothes folded into drawers, I had to leave because a new semester of classes began Wednesday, and I had to teach at 12:30. So I gave Grace a hug and kiss then I left to get to class.
I feel so fortunate that she is close enough that I could help drop her off before I had to scoot away.
And, this is very strange, I didn't get any pictures of Grace's room or Grace. I also didn't get any pictures of the three kids together during our family night.
I asked Grace to send a photo and she sent this picture or her room. We forgot to take her posters, obviously.
I replied that I wanted a picture of her, so here's her self portrait.

I guess the jury is still out on this new college. 

Anything Else You'd Like to Know About ...Me?

Another author interview today as I continue my week of online France Book Tours. Today you can see an interview on French Village Diaries. Jacqui asked some fun questions and I got to relate the story of discovering a Turkish toilet near Notre Dame.
I hope you'll stop by and leave a comment.
For those of you who may be getting tired of reading about me or my novel, I'll share some of my glamorous home life.
Last night, I was teaching a class when I received a text from my middle child, 19-year-old Spencer.
"I found dry cat puke. Should I clean it? Please say no."
Well, at least it made me laugh.
Some things never change.

Saturday Snapshot -- Growing Up

To participate in the Saturday Snapshot meme post a photo that you (or a friend or family member) have taken then leave a direct link to your post on West Metro Mommy. Photos can be old or new, and be of any subject as long as they are clean and appropriate for all eyes to see. How much detail you give in the caption is entirely up to you. Please don’t post random photos that you find online.

My  youngest became a high school senior this year as he finished exams for his junior year. It made me a little sentimental, so here are a few photos of him much younger. 

And then here he is ready for prom this year, posing with the cat in his own tuxedo.

Hope you are having a glorious weekend.

Saturday Snapshot -- Prodigal Returns

To participate in the Saturday Snapshot meme post a photo that you (or a friend or family member) have taken then leave a direct link to your post on Alyce's blog At Home With Books. Photos can be old or new, and be of any subject as long as they are clean and appropriate for all eyes to see. How much detail you give in the caption is entirely up to you. Please don’t post random photos that you find online.
Last night, around 10 p.m., the back door opened and my college freshman, now officially a college sophomore, returned home. 
The tiredness after a 16-hour drive didn't take away his joy at coming home. And his extra skinny frame (he's lost 13 pounds this year) and his need for a haircut didn't reduce the thrill I felt at giving him a squeeze once again. 

The cat was too busy posing for the photo to show his happiness.

So now my little house is crowded once again and it may be a very long summer, but, for now, I'm thrilled to have all three of my kids home again. 

Dragged Into Social Media

My kids have forced me to enter the 21st century with social media.
I check my Facebook most days and post on there at least once a week now. And last week I set up an Instagram account. Joining each community can be laid at the feet of my children's travel and  independence.
I joined Facebook in August 2010 as Grace journeyed 10 hours away to college. I wanted to be able to keep up with her posts and her friends. I still wanted to keep an eye on her.
Luckily, she didn't mind adding me as her friend.
Slowly I've added friends and when I got my iPhone, I found it easy to check Facebook, like other people's posts, and add my own "status updates."
My middle child doesn't have a Facebook page, and my youngest wouldn't add me as a friend, but he isn't active on Facebook any more. Now he's all over Instagram.
As he prepared to leave for a trip to France, I realized that if I wanted to see his pictures, I'd need to follow him on Instagram.
To me, the worst part about setting up an account for Instagram or Twitter or even Words With Friends, is choosing a user name. I know I'm going to be stuck with this name forever. Should I choose my name? Something I like -- writing, running, mochas? I avoided all "mom" names.
Tucker begrudgingly added me as a friend on Instagram and has posted sparsely this week from his trip abroad. Heer's on that he tagged: "Average night on the Eiffel Tower." And I note how "miserable" he looks surrounded by high school girls.
I have a couple of people following me on Instagram, but I haven't posted anything and don't know when I will.
For now though, I'm on Instagram and Facebook getting hints into the secret lives of my teenagers.

A Good Heart

Sometimes, on mornings when the 16-year-old is particularly surly, I need to remind myself that deep down he's a good boy.

Here's a little reminder, to myself, and other parents who may be gritting their teeth as they live with teenagers. 

Anyone who cuddles and kisses a cat must have a good heart.

Saturday Snapshot -- My Kids (Adults?)

To participate in the Saturday Snapshot meme post a photo that you (or a friend or family member) have taken then leave a direct link to your post on Alyce's blog At Home With Books. Photos can be old or new, and be of any subject as long as they are clean and appropriate for all eyes to see. How much detail you give in the caption is entirely up to you. Please don’t post random photos that you find online.
I got to enjoy having all three of my kids home during a long Christmas break so here are a few shots of them.
Tucker and Emma went to Winter Formal at her high school. She is a senior and Tucker is a junior.

Can you see the cut outs on her shoulders? Va va voom!  Boys clothes for formal aren't nearly as exciting. Tucker revised his black pants, black shirt and this time a blue tie.

 

Spencer flew back to school on Monday after a six-month break. I got this shot of him holding baby Regan.

It isn't often that a 19-year-old boy will agree to hold a baby, but he had finished eating so he got a baby in his lap. He thinks she is hilarious. Don't they both look happy?

 

 And last weekend was Grace's 21st birthday.

One of her gifts was an owl mug. Her sorority, Chi O, has an owl  as the mascot, so she loves all things owl. I love having her home during this respite.

Teenage Maladies

This morning, while it was still dark, I walked into my son's bedroom laden with medicines.
Ibuprofen for the pain. A huge pink antibiotic. A bottle of "magic mouthwash" for throat pain. A bottle of cough syrup laced with codeine and decongestant.
Spencer has been sick since Saturday. Sick sick.
He went with some friends to spend the weekend at Ohio University. OU is known across the nation for it's parties, but Spencer did not get to enjoy the parties. He got sick right away. He sat on a couch, half conscious until one of the OU boys took pity on him and walked him back to the dorm room. He slept on the futon in a sweaty fever and arrived back home the next morning.
We doused him with ibuprofen and Sudafed and sent him to bed. We thought it was a cold.
He got progressively worse through the day. We decided he might have the flu. His whole body hurt. When he was awake, he bemoaned that he couldn't live like this. He's not prone to drama, so I planned to take him to the doctor on Monday, but I didn't count on Martin Luther King Jr. Day. The doctor's office was closed.
I knew that he could take Tamiflu to shorten the flu if I could get him in within 48 hours. The pharmacist encouraged me to call the emergency number at the doctor. "That's what they're there for," she said.
So I called and one of the doctors would be in the office for a couple of hours. I took Spence in.
He was so miserable. All he had done was sleep for two days. He sat in the office with his head in his hands, his skin a chalky color, his breathing through his mouth shallow.
The doctor was one we hadn't seen before. She commented on his swollen lymph nodes and checked his liver. She wouldn't give him Tamiflu without a flu test.
Have you had a flu test? It involves a cotton swab on the end of a 7-inch long stick. The swab goes up and up into the nostril. It ended with a nose bleed for Spencer.
"Just a virus," the doctor said. Then she gave us a blood test for mononucleosis the next day and sent us on our way.
Spence just moaned.
An hour later, the doctor's office called. Spence had a check up the Wednesday before and our regular doctor had checked him for strep, but the rapid test came back negative. After we left the office, the doctor checked the follow-up strep test. Yep, it was positive.
So he's been on antibiotics since Monday and he's starting to believe that he might make it through. Yesterday, he managed to sit up and play Xbox for a little while. He even managed to yell at the TV a few times.
I think he's on the road to recovery. He'd better be. It's back to college next week.

2013, I'm Ready For You

What can I say?
An inauspicious beginning to 2013, but I'm sure things will begin to look up from here.
My Uncle Clarence died on Jan. 1, 2013. He's my mother's second oldest brother. In his 80s, he was slim, his hair still dark, and he had a high, southern, tenor voice. Yesterday, he watched the ball drop at midnight, went to bed about 12:30 then his wife couldn't wake him up the next morning. He hadn't been sick.
Uncle Clarence told me stories about fighting in World War II when I asked him. He showed me a huge certificate he got in the Navy when they crossed the International Date Line. His younger brother, who fought in the Korean War, got a tiny billfold sized certificate. It's funny that they both carried those with them. The big certificate was in an envelope in the car.
But some less dire things happened on the first day of the new year too.
For New Year's, we let Tucker, 16, have a gathering. He refused to call it a party. But there were a lot of kids here. Earl and I camped out at the neighbors, coming over every hour or so to check on the party.

Sometimes a cat is the only comfort.

Tucker promised to control things and he had a miserable time, which is to be expected. He explained that at one point, giving up, he took the cat and lay on his bed. He couldn't wait for everyone to go home.
At 12:15, he shot over to the neighbor's house to get the car keys and drive home a friend.
"Don't you want to wait til everyone leaves?" I asked him.
"Nope," he said.
Grace and her friends had returned and were shuffling teenagers out of the house.
"Does everyone have rides home? Anyone need a ride?" Earl and I asked. We aren't stupid about teenagers and alcohol.
After everyone left, Grace said the toilet in the downstairs bathroom was broken. I figured it was either clogged or the handle had come unhooked from the mechanism in the toilet tank.
Nope.
The toilet tank was empty of any water and had a big hole in the bottom of it. How does someone put a hole in a porcelain toilet tank?
Luckily, whoever did it, knew to turn off the water to the toilet so it didn't flood the whole house. Also, the towels in the bathroom were lying in a wet heap where someone had cleaned up the water overflow.
So whoever broke the toilet was very responsible. Someone also left money on top of the toilet tank and more cash in the mailbox.
Earl spent January 1 driving to Home Depot and buying a new toilet tank. He installed it and had moved on to shoveling the neighbor's driveway by mid-morning.
And those were just some of the activities that started my New Year.
How bout you?

Saturday Snapshot -- Family

To participate in the Saturday Snapshot meme post a photo that you (or a friend or family member) have taken then leave a direct link to your post on Alyce's blog At Home With Books. Photos can be old or new, and be of any subject as long as they are clean and appropriate for all eyes to see. How much detail you give in the caption is entirely up to you. Please don’t post random photos that you find online.
The only photo I should be thinking about is an English Comp essay with marks from my red pen since I have to finish grading lots of essays for Finals Week, but I pulled out an old family photo we used on our Christmas letter in 2008. Four years doesn't seem that long, but when I look at my family, it's a long time.

They've all changed so much. We've all changed so much, especially those two on the end -- the kitten and Tucker.
I don't have a decent photo of the whole family from this fall since the oldest two have been at college, but here's one from this summer before Spencer left for college in Florida. But, I'm not in the pic cause I was taking it. (I really hate photos of myself lately anyway!)

Oh, and here's the kitten all grown up. He never takes a bad photo.

Saturday Snapshot -- Pets

To participate in the Saturday Snapshot meme post a photo that you (or a friend or family member) have taken then leave a direct link to your post on Alyce's blog At Home With Books. Photos can be old or new, and be of any subject as long as they are clean and appropriate for all eyes to see. How much detail you give in the caption is entirely up to you. Please don’t post random photos that you find online.
Most weeks, my husband and I are home with our 16-year-old son while the other kids are at college. Sixteen can be a hard age for talking, but the one bridge I've found between adolescent and parent is the cats. Even on his most sullen days, he's willing to admire the cuteness of a cat or laugh at clumsy antics.

Last night, my daughter came into my bedroom to say good night once she came home from her evening activities. She promptly scooped up both cats that lay at the foot of my bed. A few minutes later, my 16-year-old came in to kiss me good night.
"Got any cats?" he asked in the darkness before he left the room.
I told him his sister had snatched the cats before he returned. He can rest assured that next week the cats will be all his again with the other kids back at school. And that left me wondering if the kids come in at night to reassure me they're home or whether they're only in search of their favorite things in the house -- our pets.

Hope you all had a lovely holiday weekend (if you're in the U.S) or a great middle of November if you're in another part of the world.