Fencing?

For a while now the boys have been under the impression that they want to become fencers. Not as in shady characters who sell your stolen goods for you (a profession Theo shows great apitude for) but as in athletes who wield pointy weapons and heed french commands. Now, Jon grew up a runner and I was all about team sports, so we are feeling a bit out of our league here. And I admit, I have this little nagging thought at the back of my mind....but aren't fencers kind of....kind of....nerdy?

Eli dabbled in this sport last spring by taking an after school introduction to fencing class at my school, Avalon. This did not lend us any insight into the nerdy question- Avalon students are in a category all their own and if you want to apply the label NERD to them, be warned that it will not stick to these slippery, unigue, cagey souls. Yesterday, as I was giving a tour to a prospective family, we walked past a girl wearing a construction helmet, a pair of metallic silver leggings, and some bright red go-go boots. She looked up from her task to give us a perky little salute and a wink. Odd, for sure, but nerdy? I fear they have found the secret of how to elevate themselves above this petty little label. They live their nerdiness large, and in doing so they break right through that barrier and emerge into a whole new, lovely, realm. So as Eli suited up in the basement of Avalon and faced off his with Avalon partner, a lad named Blue- so called not for the unremarkable color of his eyes, but for the hue he applies to his nails, his lips, his hair- how was I to judge this sport? One thing I did note is that the instructors, a brother/sister combo, were fabulous- confident, disciplined, big hearted, and worthy of much adoration from their clients- many of whom were just 1-2 years younger than these classy coaches.

This fall we decided to look into getting the boys signed up for lessons and settled on the Twin Cities Fencing club. We went as a family to watch a lesson from the sidelines, and what I saw was very heartening. There were a handful of younger kids, all of who seemed like healthy, sweet kids. Then there was this trio of twelve year old boys. There was something about them. A twelve year old boy can be a very awkward thing, but these three, they stood tall, they looked each other in the eyes, and they played fair. On the spot, watching these three take turns dueling each other, I decided that there might be a whole lot to like about this odd sport my boys have taken a fancy to.

Lessons were to start the next Wednesday and the day started early, with old anticipatory Theo up at the crack of dawn wishing the day away so that he could get his hands on a weapon. Jon marched them off that evening and they came back glowing, Theo proclaiming that Wednesday was his new favorite day, even better than his precious weekends! So we're in. Who knows how long it will last, but for now we're committed to spending Wednesday evenings in a secret little stinky two story basement of an apartment building up on Holly Avenue. We'll see where this takes us.

On a side note, my brother Dave will undoubtedly be relieved to find out that this fencing club provides all of the equipment for the little fencers. Old Dave is sure he had his career as a Pro Football place kicker cut short when he couldn't deal with the shame of having to wear homemade football pants back in the sixth grade. I have had some little laughs picturing my boys wearing fencing helmets hastily fashioned out of chicken wire and duct tape.

Convenient

Now that school is back in session, Jon and I are trying to make sure we get the boys back into the habit of helping out around this house. This usually takes the form of drying the dishes after dinner. The other night it was Theo's turn, and as Jon washed, listening to Theo gab away, he wasn't paying too much attention to what Theo was doing with the dried dishes. But then Theo placed one final dish and called out, "Dad! Aren't I being convenient?!?" Jon turned to find quite a sculpture park of Theo's dried dishes. He had carefully balanced them on top of each other in little configurations so that they all fit on the counter closest to him. Now, my definition of convenient is when the boy with the dish towel gets the dried dishes into the correct cupboards and drawers, but upon eyeing up Theo's creation, I had to admit that he sure was....something.

One last jump into summer

Our friend Deb had been telling us about her family's cabin up on Lake Namakan for a few years. It sounded idyllic- a little island that was all theirs, out in the middle of the lake that acts as a border between Minnesota and Canada. She had invited us up for one last summer hurrah- to spend Labor Day weekend at the lake. It sounded great and we wanted to go, but I had been in the throes of getting school up and running for a new year, the boys were edging into their pre-school anxiety that hits each fall, and in the past week Jon, Theo, and I had all been taken down by 'flu-like symptoms'. And it was a 6 hour drive plus 1 hour boat to even get to this place. It sure seemed easier to spend the last weekend of summer at home recuperating and gearing up for another year. But then we checked the forecast, 70's and sunny, and we decided to go ahead and jump right into one last summer adventure. Thank goodness we did- this place turned out to be just what we all needed, a comfortable adventure in a foriegn land (It was across the border line in Canada and we needed to show our passports at a little outpost that is reached only by boat or floatplane) to round out a great summer.

This 1.5 acre wilderness is a boy wonderland, covered in white pines, mossy outcroppings, colorful toadstools, and plenty of rocks for clamboring. The little cabin is completely comfortable, but with no electricty or water is an outpost enough to make you feel like you're on an adventure. As it is on an island, the boys could head off into the woods with parents having no worries about them getting lost. They spent their time turning sticks into ancient weapons, conquering mythic beasts in fabulous battles, throwing themselves off the rocks into the warm waters, creating rock dams, reinforcing castle walls and running free. They coaxed the parents onto the unihabited nearby island for a parents v. children game of capture the flag that had us all hooting and hollering and sacrificing much skin in our quest through the brambles for the dishtowel that served as the sacred flag.

Saturday evening we were treated to a lovely sunset on the west side of the island and then as we walked east, back to the cabin, drank in the glorious full moon as it rose above still waters.

After a lovely weekend we packed up the boats and headed back to the mainland, refreshed and ready to tackle the new year.

Dreaming in Norwegian

Last night I went in to feel Theo's forehead after he had fallen asleep. I was hoping hoping hoping to find it cool so I could justify sending him off to the last day of daycamp. Luckily I found him resting peacefully and cool as can be. I readjusted his covers and started tiptoeing away. Behind me I could hear him stirring. I froze, hoping he would roll over and get back to sleep. He rolled over, right into the wall, grunted, let out a sharp call of "Uff-da!" and then dropped back into his dreams. Now I do not think we use that phrase around the house with any kind of frequency so it kills me that in his unconscious slumbery state he let loose with a little Norge swearing.

Lose a little, gain a little

Theo and Eli are saying goodbye to summer with one last week out at daycamp. I have to say it was a brilliant move on my part to sign them up. The tension of the upcoming change in our schedule has them both a bit on edge, whether they realize it or not, so they are tempted to bug each other a bit more regularly than usual. Camp keeps them occupied and seperated, two things I would have had trouble doing this week as I gear back up for the onslaught of new students at school. They both love camp, although they go about showing this in different ways. Eli gets off the bus and on the way home thoughtfully shares with me the highlights of his day. Theo kind of jumps off the bus, eyes wide, clothes fantastically dirty, and his back pack much lighter than when he left in the morning. He is having so much fun he simply does not have time to keep track of his stuff. In one day he managed to lose his hat, raincoat, shorts, underwear, and swimshirt. Luckily he had a swimsuit to wear home. Sheesh. But it doesn't bother him a bit. Eli, on the other hand, checks and rechecks that backpack before heading out to the bus.

At daycamp they spend all day outside, in the middle of a field of plants that all send allergens straight to Theo's respitory system. I like to think of it is that he loses a little, gains a little- loses much clothing, comes home with many allergens working magic in his body. His eyes get red, his nose drives him wild with itching, he sneezes, and gets oh so wheezy. This week he managed to get hit so badly that he had to take a day off to recuperate and shake a fever. This was torture for him. He was sitting in the hallway shaky with fever when he heard me say that he would not be going that day. Immediately he struggled to his feet and said, "Look Mom! I can stand up! I can walk....I can....do....a....jumping....ja" and then, plop, back to a seated position, defeat written across his face. Poor guy. Luckily, one day of rest and relaxation got him to a place where he could rejoin the last day of fun today. Just in time to scatter his belongings to the wind one last time.

Winding down

The end of summer is within spitting distance. I think I could hit it with a watermelon seed if I tried. I have to say that the summer of 2009 has been an all around delight. I loved the slightly cooler weather, the boys got along splendily (except for when they didn't- but that was limited), and we managed to take some fabulous outings with fantastic people. We just got back from a quick tool around southeastern Minnesota. It is lovely down there- the farm fields were bursting with the dark green of mature crops while the grasses were starting to get coppery in the sun. The Amish were clopping down the shoulder of the highway in their buggies and the sun came out everytime we felt we needed to warm our bones a bit. Before we left I was stressing a bit about getting our camping gear all packed it up, but watching the boys delight in zipping into their sleeping bags, or toasting a marshmellow to Sage-level perfection, or puzzling with their pals Siena and Paloma over the destination of a geocache, made the really quite minor pack up more than worth it.

Dunord in pictures

Clockwise from top left: Haakon and Lars munching, Ye Olde Barrel Sauna, the jigging circle, relaxing after the canoe derby, my fabulous bow, the entire crew in front of Canada Jay, Theo in his happy place, Eli amongst the blueberries, and Wally pumping us up for our annual campfire perfomance as the St. Croix Singers.