Happy Valentine's Day

My 10-year-old son and my husband got up early and baked this cake as part of my Valentine's Day gift. It's all strawberry -- the cake, the jam between the layers and the frosting. We're saving it for dessert this evening.

Now, he and his Dad are hosting his first LAN party for friends in a computer lab at the college. The boys and their fathers will create their characters -- hobbits, dwarves, elves or men -- and train them to defend Middle Earth in Lord of the Rings Online.

I, in the meantime, will remain at home in the Shire cleaning up the kitchen. It seems they haven't quite figured that part out yet.

Who needs romance when you've got cake? Though I do hope my elf and hobbit stop at the store and pick up some milk on their journey home. Let's just hope they don't encounter too many orcs.

Young minds at work

Six Webelos from Voyageurs Pack 3043 gathered at the College of St. Scholastica in the early twilight on Thursday, Jan. 29, 2015. Their mission: to drop an egg 12 feet without breaking it.

Each boy worked for two weeks to engineer a device that would protect a raw egg in free-fall to the floor. They used common materials such as tooth picks, popsicle sticks, dried marshmallows, rubber bands, plastic bags, duct tape, paper towels, glue. Each device was different. Some designs relied on elaborate protective cages, some on parachutes, and others on egg cocoons.

Results were mixed. In the final tally: three eggs survived intact, two suffered minor cracks, one -- to the delight of all gathered -- simply went splat.

Consensus at the AAR (After Action Review): the devices that provided the egg with the most suspension had the best results.

The things Jews endure

It's almost Hanukkah. And that pretty much explains why my husband, son, another boy and I were forced to stand in front of a microphone in a crowded church basement singing four verses of Ma'oz Tzur at an unbearably slow pace in an almost unobtainable key.

At the end of each verse I kept thinking, this will be over and then we can go home. But not before I stepped on a plate of barbecued meatballs a child left on the floor. And then, in an attempt to balance my slide, I put my other foot down in a plate of mashed potatoes and creamed corn.

Sacred Moment

Today, my son and I played our first duet on the piano. It was incredible -- being fully in the moment with him, working to create something beautiful. It started haltingly, as each of us messed up on our parts. Then we got into a rhythm together. We smiled, laughed and applauded our accomplishment. I stepped aside from the piano and cried silently.

Parents, please!

This message is to all parents who have wondered if you should allow or should not allow your child to participate in an activity: USE YOUR COMMON SENSE!
  
My husband purchased a Red Rider BB gun for my son when he was about 5 years old. We waited until he was 8 to give it to him. We spent several afternoons on his grandmother's acre of land teaching him basic gun safety and giving him the time to learn how to load, aim and shoot the gun responsibly. His targets were empty pop cans and zombies drawn on paper plates. He had his safety glasses on so as not to "shoot his eye out." An adult was with him at all times.

  
There is absolutely no reason a 9-year-old should be learning how to shoot an uzzi, even if it is at a shooting range under the guidance of a gun instructor.

No matter what the rules allow, no matter what the guidelines recommend, no matter what a licensed professional says  -- you are No. 1 in keeping your child and others safe.

Allow me to repeat: USE YOUR COMMON SENSE! 

Sustainable solution

For Mother's Day, my son and husband gave me a bag of seed potatoes, 100 red onion sets and some asparagus. I excitedly accepted my gifts, all the while thinking in my head, "Where do they think I'm going to plant all of this?"

My little backyard garden has barely enough room for four tomato plants and a couple of yellow squash or zuchinni plants, in addition to my perennial alpine strawberries, thyme, chives and sage.

I spent couple of days pondering where to establish an asparagus bed and find room for potatoes. My husband and I looked over the bare spot left from our son's sandbox that we gave to the little girl next door last fall. He proposed building a raised box there. But we already were enjoying having enough space to maneuver around the apple tree again.

Then a possible solution occurred to me. For the past couple of summers my neighbor has been going to Kenya to visit her aging father. Would she be going again this summer? And could I use some of her raised boxes while she's away?

"Plant whatever you want," she responded, excited to have me put her gardens back in use. So now I'm growing onions and potatoes in the yard next door. Even with that, I still had potatoes and onions left to plant at my mother-in-law's.

Catch the Cougar

My son decided to run the Congdon Cougar Chase 5K this year instead of the 1K as in years past. He  joined the after-school running club and trained for about a month, building up to and completing some 28-minute runs on the Lakewalk. On Saturday, that work paid off when he ran 3.1 miles on a sodden, hilly trail at Lester Park in a downpour of rain, in a time of 30:27. He finished 47th out of 140 runners, and 8th in his division of 9-year-old boys.


He and his friends got drenched, mud-splattered and tired, as witnessed in these before, during and after shots. But they had a lot of fun. The Congdon Cougar that they chase stayed dry under an umbrella and -- very suspiciously -- wasn't muddy at all.