I've been shopping for a family vacation for next year and with fondness remembered our trip on the Maasdam...in 2002

(5 Course Dining Divided by a 3-year old Equals Disaster)


In the course of planning for our family cruise vacation, I neglected to pack the Amy Vanderbilt's New Rules for Etiquette, which I now know to be indispensable. Had I packed it, there would have undoubtedly been many opportunities to consult it and avoid the faux pas that inevitably happened.

But to begin…After thoroughly poring through the cruise-line "dress code" (Chapter 16 in the 3-set volume they sent us) I realized that my poor little family was ill prepared for such an illustrious vacation…therefore I went to work. I shopped literally for three weeks solid prior to our departure, buying all of the required neckties, suits, shirts, dress shoes, etc. And that was just for my 5' 9, thirteen-year old son. You see… he had "out-grown" everything…Ahemmm…Not that he had ever even owned a suit, unless you count that bright green thing he wore when he was 3. Next…the required dresses, hose, shoes, and hair accessories for my 10-year-old daughter. And then of course we just had to buy that cute sailor outfit for the 3-year-old for his fine dining experience. And all of this was just for 2 nights of formal dining during a 7-day cruise extravaganza.

Of course then there was, "Mom, I just have to have two more swimsuits…snorkel gear…my other denim shorts have a hole in them…Mom, I have to have a swimsuit cover up. It says so right here on page 179 of the dress code."

Another trip to Target…and $300.00 later…we think we now have all the "necessities" bought.
"Oops Mom, my suitcase is too small…and HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CARRY ALL THESE DRESSY CLOTHES??" Back to Wal-Mart…3 suitcases, a garment bag, 2 pairs of sunglasses, 2 economy sized bottles of 45 sun block, 4 rolls of film and a prescription of prozac for Mom…and we're through with the packing.

On the first night of Formal Dining, we all showered and donned our cruise- required-dressy-best. I even had a few sequins on…As we stood waiting to be seated in the dining room, we tottered on unaccustomed high heels and pulled nervously at strange neckties…I looked around and beamed proudly at my well-dressed family. We had REALLY ARRIVED. We were ushered to the back of the dining room where a group of highly sought after tables were banked against a wall of windows capturing an idyllic sunset as we sailed east. As elegant an entrance we must have made…Father, mother and three handsome children… I must say our exit was somewhat less dignified.

Five-course dining definitely has its advantages. But the fact that it takes 2 hours to do it in, does not bode well for the family with a toddler. Since our three year old generally dines in the span of time it takes for us to drive from Sonic to home, i.e. 15 minutes…that left approximately 1 hour and 45 minutes of "down time" for him.

We did try to burn some time by delaying the arrival of his Hot Dog Wellington until we were well into the salad course. I whispered to my husband…"They didn't bring any ketchup." My husband quietly waved the steward over. "Ketchup? Please." The steward meticulously poured the Heinz on the side with at little flourish. At that moment I truly wished I had a pocket copy of Amy's Etiquette. I faltered as I tried to decide which knife was the appropriate hot dog cutting utensil. Surely not the bread knife or the dinner knife. I finally decided on the salad knife. Of course by that time all of the 3-year old's utensils were dumped into a big pile in the center of the table as was his water goblet and all other stemmed-ware that was within his radius of reach.

As my entrée of lobster was arriving, the three-year-old, after 15 minutes of playing under the table and singing "Bob the Builder" choruses, decided it was time to go PEE-PEE. Believe you me… my mouth was watering for that drawn butter and lobster, but you CANNOT delay a newly potty-trained child even for 30 seconds. Because his shoes were off, I grabbed the shoes and the child and marched on high heels back to the front of the dining room…However, I inadvertently drug an empty table's table cloth, silverware and fresh flower arrangement about 20 feet as I exited. My little 'Yesssiree Bob', hooted with delight, "Mommy! You made a Boo-Boo!" Help!!! Ms Vanderbilt! Do I set the PEE-PEE squirming child down, bend over, and exposing the run in my panty hose in order to somehow right the denuded table? Decisions. Decisions.

A kind and sympathetic woman in a large lilac gown, took pity on me and grabbed the vase while two stewards whisked the soiled cloth, and silvered condiments off the floor and said, "Eees OK Maam. We get." And I must say, by the time I returned with our little prince, the whole table affair seemed just like a bad dream. Everything was again in fine cruise-line dress. Whew! Only 45 more minutes for this dinner and 6 more nights to go!

Life on the Lake


My husband and I have always loved the lake. We loved it so much we even bought a lot on the lake and then a weekend cabin on the lake and finally we added on to our cabin on the lake and made it a full-fledged livable house, year-round. During the first five years of our marriage, we boated regularly in the spring, summer and fall. We had our boat tuned, serviced and ready to go at least by Memorial Day. Skiing, swimming and teaching our young son to swim were among the highlights of owning a boat. But the top reason for owning a boat was freedom. You could swim almost anywhere. Pull into a private cove and skinny dip if you wanted to. Or if it was crowded in one place…pick up anchor and go somewhere else. The only down side to just owning a boat and not a place on the lake…Putting up the boat, transporting the boat, and coming home, famished to a cold and empty kitchen. Nothing tastes better after a heavy afternoon of sun, water, and boat activities than a good hot meal. Potato chips will not cut it. Thus the decision to actually own a place on the lake was made.
Fast forward 15 years. My husband and I have been married for 21 years now. We have a 17 year old son, a 14 year old daughter, and a 7 year old son. We have two very busy careers, church activities, teen activities, part-time jobs, school activities, band, swim team, a farm, 4-H cattle projects, a girlfriend, a cat and a dog. And…..we still live on the lake full time. Every year for the past ten years, we have been getting later and later about getting the boat in the water for the first time. Five years ago, it was July 4th before we got that sucker out of the garage and armor-alled the vinyl seats. This year it was July 16th before our 18 year-old boat made its way out of the dusty garage. So the question begs to be answered…Why do you still live on the lake? I have to confess there are several reasons. Our house is very unique and a one-of- kind house since its addition. I like the fact that I don’t live in a cookie cutter house with the house plan available at any supermarket. I like the privacy that my particular lot affords. I like waking up every morning gazing at the sun’s reflection in the water. And I like the fact that I am not a slave to my yard. We have very little sun…therefore very little grass. So…I have my reasons for “living” on the lake, that do not necessarily involve “playing” on the lake.
At any rate…on July 17 of this year we did indeed venture out onto the water. The family of five all piled into the boat for about 45 minutes of skiing and swimming before we were to meet the 17-year-old’s girlfriend at our house and my sister-in-law who was to take the 7-year-old for a cousin campout. We pulled away from the dock and dumped out my older son to start the first round of skiing. We pulled him down to Kitchen Hollow a somewhat protected waterway in hopes of catching some smooth water. By the time we reached the end of the hollow, he was tired and ready for the next skier to take over. My daughter jumps in the water and dons the skis. The boat won’t start. The boat continues to not start for the next 30 minutes.
The youngest who has always been a little anxiety-ridden when it comes to swimming or skiing in the lake has now begun to fidget and ask, “Mom…what are we going to do? When is the boat going to start? I’m hot. How long do we have to stay here? I ‘m thirsty. How are we going to get back home? I’m hungry. Are we going to have to swim for miles? I wanna go home!” I’m a little bit desperate myself, at this point…It’s scorching hot, there is one bottle of fresh water on the boat (after all… we were only going to be gone for 45 minutes), I have people due at my house any minute and I am stuck out in the middle of the lake, 2 miles from home .
“I wanna go home, too” I murmur in assent.
“OK, that’s it,” the little one says with an exasperation I’ve only seen in adults about to tackle a most unpleasant task. (You know like changing a dirty diaper or cleaning the gutters) The next thing I see out of the corner of my eye is my precious youngest child, hands folded, head bowed, eyes closed and he is praying most fervently. I see his lips moving and the earnestness in his heart.
I’m smiling, despite the unpleasant circumstances and when he was through articulating his problems and his desire to God, he looks up at me and says, “OK. I’ve prayed now.” About 15 seconds later the boat started. The story would truly be a testimony about the power of prayer if the boat had stayed running. However it died again five minutes later and would not start again. Never-the-less, we all learned some valuable lessons.
A. Never doubt the faith of a child.
B. There is power in prayer, even if it’s not exactly what you had in mind.
C. Perhaps we should teach our children to not use prayer as only a last resort.
D. Never trust the words, “It was running fine last year.”
E. Professional annual boat maintenance is not to be overlooked.
F. Always take a gallon of fresh water, even for the shortest of boat rides.
G. Never go out on a boat just before you are expecting company.

You’re wondering how we got back? Well 2 ½ hours later we were towed back to our dock by my older son. He hitched a ride with a passing boat and retrieved our wave runner and a rope. Next day…Boat is in the shop!

Who Took the F-U-N out of Funerals?

Well….I’m dying. Hold on before you send out the condolences. We all are. Who was it that said, “From the moment we are born, we begin the inescapable business of dying.”? I don’t remember who said it, but I’ve decided to do the smart thing in 2006 and pre-plan my funeral. I don’t know why this activity has been on my mind other than having past my 40th birthday, I’ve decided I needed to get a few things off my to-do-list. (You know, root canal, clean out the garage, bikini wax, plan funeral)
So, I did some research. I looked at the latest in trend-setting caskets. (Hey, did you know that you can buy a casket with removable fish head bookends? Apparently it’s all the rage, now. Your surviving spouse can gaze fondly at those bronze fish head bookends every time she reaches for her Barefoot Contessa Cookbook and remember you and all those weekends you left her and went fishing for the low, low price of just $4789.99)
Next, I reviewed the funeral arrangement option list, which reads like the prospectus of the foreign stock of the month your broker insisted you buy. (In Swahili of course). It was difficult at best to figure out the all-inclusives and the non-inclusives. Can’t they just make one of those vehix.com comparison pages? “I want a 6-cylinder casket in gunmetal metallic, hold the lining, and give me a squirt of music and flowers then run me through the drive-in funeral parlor and plop me in the ground. How expensive could that be? Well the Federal Trade Commission reports that “After buying a home and a car, paying for a funeral is the third biggest expense most families will have in a lifetime.”
Let me just say, “Wow!” It costs more these days for someone to die than to be born. How can that be? Well, the latest figures by the International Cemetery and Funeral Association today show that the average funeral costs $4,287. I suspect that this is actually a low ball figure, because it doesn’t cover the burial plot, the opening and closing of the grave, the vault, the clergy, the flowers, the newspaper notices or the music for the ceremony and I’m sure it doesn’t include those fish head bookends.
Of course no major social event should be planned without first consulting Amy. You know Amy Vanderbilt of Amy Vanderbilt Complete Book of Etiquette. Her chapter on Funerals seemed to be missing the proper etiquette for funeral alternatives. So I skipped to the Chapter dealing with Entertaining. It was quite enlightening and I think I can modify a few rules to fit the type of funeral…excuse me a “Gathering of Friends” (This is funeral-ese for non-traditional funeral) …that I had in mind.
So what do I really want in terms of a remembrance of my life? I mean who needs a sad funeral, bereavement counselors and the $4789.99 fish head casket? And personally I think the burial plot, funeral tent, marble engraved headstone are way overrated. Who needs all that expense and fuss? Certainly, not me. I’ll be dead.
So instead of the stretch limo for the dead, how about an armada on the Lake? (Besides I would rather ride in a limousine while I’m still alive and can still play with the mini-bar and sunroof.) Why, Uncle Cleve has a nice little bass boat and I am sure he won’t mind going for a little boat ride on a Saturday afternoon. He might even troll for fish while he’s at it. And I am positive that my family would rather spend their Saturday afternoon on the lake than in a syrupy-sweet smelling funeral parlor with pink lights. (Why do they use those pink lights?)
So, with Amy Vanderbilt’s blessing I have arranged my “funeral budget” to include a backyard barbeque, catered of course, and hey if they want a tent, at least get a pretty white one with windows. Amy says a formal receiving line is not always necessary so I think the line should form right before the potato salad and end right after the pecan pie.
Now as for my remains, my husband has agreed to the following:
1. Cardboard Box.
2. Cremation. Much cheaper than burial. I’m claustrophobic,
you know.
3. No urn, just a Tupperware container. Burped tight.
4. Final resting place. The Lake.
My husband will ski around the lake right after the picnic, scattering my ashes from
behind Uncle Cleve’s bass boat.
(I just hope my husband’s knees hold out.)
http://www.icfa.org/consumer.html International Cemetery and Funeral Association

Finally. I've been meaning to do this for months. A place...a space...to reach out and creatively touch you, the anonymous reader. We will just have to see where it goes. I have for years written essays or diatribes (depending on my mood) on the little things in life that struck me as funny, ridiculous or poignant. And now a format comes along to share my thoughts in a nonthreatening environment. Yeah! My very own Blog. More later.