The Triumph of the Caterpillar

Every year I have a battle with caterpillars eating the leaves off of my rose bushes. I pride myself in picking plants that really just need to be cut back a bit each fall - and then get Mr. Man to do it. So a few years ago, I noticed my beautiful rose bushes being attacked, and realized something needed to be done.

Soap and water, is what I was told, so each morning my son and I went out and "drowned" the suckers in an attempt to fend them off. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't.

But this summer I have had to let the caterpillars win. My daughter, an avid fan of nature programs on TV, has vowed her allegiance to the rose caterpillars and will not let anyone at them.

"They belong free to live in the wild," she says.

Why they can't go to someone else's wild is beyond me.

So come by early June to see my beautiful roses, but for the rest of the summer avoid walking by our retaining wall, as you may find one of my daughter's friends dropping onto your shoulder, enjoying the wild.

My Safe Places

I asked mom a few months ago how she managed to let me go away to summer camp with my peanut allergy:

“It was close to home, close to the hospital, and was only 30 kids a week. Some of the camps had hundreds of kids a week. We thought the small staff would know you and it would be safer that way. They would be more aware,” she answered. “When I came to pick you up and I saw the state of the swimming area,” her eyes widen, “I thought, who needs to worry about food when you are all going to die right here! All those jagged rocks, and snakes, and this young guy sitting there who wouldn’t have been able to help.”

I nod as I remember. And I smile. Gosh, that camp was fun! Some of my best summers, best friendships – life changing! (And mom does have an outrageous fear of snakes…)

But she was right – they made the right decision in that camp. It was perfect for me. We were less than 15 minutes from the hospital and I didn’t start attending until I was thirteen (and my younger sister went with me the first year – much to her dislike) so I was well aware of my allergy and how to handle it. It was the end of grade eight and I was away from home! I was still a shy kid so having only 29 or so other kids to meet was pretty easy, and it wasn’t too long until I was comfortable enough to get myself into trouble. That first week of summer camp was the beginning of a wonderful thirteen-year stretch; from camper, to counselor, to program coordinator; I didn’t stop going until after I was married. It was my favourite safe place.

Best Date Night

Date night these days, although still enjoyable, usually does not involve leaving the house. We snuggle on the couch, rent a movie, sometimes play cards, and spend time together. With two kids under six, and babysitters hard to find, Mr. Man and I rarely see a movie on the big screen or go out to dinner. So when the opportunity arose, we found a niece to watch the kids and we headed out for a backyard party at a friend's.

Of course, as soon as we get there, someone says "aw, they didn't bring the kids."

So, we wish our friend, "happy birthday" and present the cake that we made for the occasion, and submerse ourselves in adult conversation, other peoples' lives, and stories. Drinks all around, plenty of food, and Mr. Man gets a text that our dog has run away.

Now our relationship with our dog is somewhat cyclical. It's good for awhile, then he does something bad and we want to get rid of him. Then we get over it, and it's good for awhile....you get the idea. Eight year relationship. Lots of damage.

Some of the things doggo has done are:

- chew every piece of new furniture we have had in the first five years of his life

- eat five pairs of shoes, pounds and pounds of fondant, three decorating tips, and one bike helmet (adult size)

- brought home a deer leg

- rolls in everything smelly

- escapes out of the yard to roll in something smelly, bring home a deer leg (our neighbours are hunters), or to eat someone's trash

So when we got the text, we did not rise up out of our chairs right away but weighed our options. Chances are he would come back in an hour, barf in the back yard and have diarrhea for three days. BUT the kids had already looked in his regular haunts and was nowhere to be found. Do we enjoy our evening a little longer or do we search for doggo before it got too dark? We packed up.

So our first official summer date night involved walking up and down the streets and creeks of our little town whistling for our dog. We even separated and I drove around a bit. By 9:30pm we gave up as it was too hard to see and hoped he'd come home on his own.

But our sitter was still there, so we decided to make one last ditch effort to have a date. We hopped in the car and drove half and hour to the nearest city. We started to yawn about halfway there.

"Do you want ice cream?"

"No.... Do you want to go to the movies?"

"No, I'll just fall asleep. I thought we'd walk along the boardwalk."

"I don't know.... Don't you think it might be dangerous?"

"(Sigh) Why did we come here?"

So we drove down to the boardwalk and even before we got out of the car, quickly decided perhaps it wasn't a good idea, and losing one dog would be hard enough on the kids, let alone death by mugging.

"So what now? Coffee?"

We went into Starbucks and ordered two grande hot chocolates (extravagant, I know), and settled into the big, red, overstuffed arm chairs. Ah, what a good idea! With a big smile on my face, I think, this was worth the drive. Just then, the barista starts emptying the garbage cans and overturning the smaller, wooden chairs.

"What time do you close?" Mr. asks.

"10:30" was his answer. That gave us ten minutes of snuggly red chair time and a brief conversation of some deep topic you are supposed to have over a Starbucks drink. I think I asked him about work. Sigh.

So we were off again, with hot chocolates in hand and walked over to the movie theatre. There would be a movie starting in forty minutes. A three hour movie. A really great movie; the end of an era, actually, but three hours long. Suddenly we felt really tired. And a little bit old.

So we drove home, snuggled under the duvet, and Mr. Man watched reruns of his favourite show on my laptop while I slept, dreaming of our missing dog, and deer legs.

Tips for a Good Sleep

Summer holidays have started!! The wedding crunch has momentarily paused for family trips and outings, and a few wonderful sleep-filled nights.

Looking back on the past few weeks, I have noticed a few things that helped me sleep better:

1. Hire an assistant. She comes in when I need her, preps decorations, tortes cakes, and ices cookies. She also seems to wash the dishes when I'm not looking so my tools are always clean and ready. She helps me find missing items, which I am always misplacing (i.e. measuring tape, veining tool, scotch tape, my brain...) and most of all, she lets me talk through cake designs, time planning, and puts my mind at ease so I can sleep that night.

2. Have a beer and hug a teddy. Unfortunately I can't find a teddy big enough to hug me back, but I found one stuffed dog that seems to do the trick. I tried to crawl in bed with my daughter once but she kicked me out.

3. To block out night noises, turn the fan on high. But don't point it at you, it makes your joints hurt. (I don't know if that is actually true. My grandpa told me that years ago, so it could just be in my head. But my joints sure hurt after a night of fanning - even my teeth ache).

4. Plug the nose of the snorer beside you. Or move around a lot so they wake up, grumble, and go sleep somewhere else. "Don't bother trying our daughter's room - she doesn't like visitors!"

5. Finally, read a really boring book. Major Pettigrew's Last Stand, by Helen Simonson was a real yawner. Sorry, Helen. Not my speed. You'll be asleep in no time. And if you happen to wake during the night like I do, pull out your trusty flashlight (which you've hidden from the kids) and reread the page you were just on. Knocked out!

Happy sleeping! Feel free to post any of your sleeping potions :)

Erin