International Friendship Day, as declared by the United Nations, falls on 30 July every year. However, most countries celebrate the day on the first Sunday of August and this year it falls on 2 August.
Today’s post is dedicated to
Those Girls Who Were My Best Friends in School and Who Grew Up to Be Awesome Woman and Who Are STILL My Best Friends and who have become our family. I read things about being married to one’s best friend. Terry IS my best friend but a spouse best friend and a “regular” best friend are two totally different creatures and on different planes. It’s the non-spouse plane of which I speak when I say Caty is my very best, my very dearest, my very closest friend and then Laura and Vicki and Michele and Gayle and Sherry are in line right behind her. I cherish their friendship. I love that we pray for one another. I love our “Tarrant County Chapter” every 6-8 week dinner together times. I love that our professions have been able to help one another as we/our parents/other family members need help. I love being able to tell them things or seek prayer for something knowing that my words won’t leave our group. I love our sisterhood; the YaYas have nothing on the Round Robins but age. I can’t imagine my life without the Round Robins. What a blessing their friendship is to me and I hope I am a blessing to them.
I’m ready for another Round Robin Reunion and I know others are as well because it’s mentioned to me from time to time. Our first reunion was in 1996. Most of us were able to attend that long weekend time together. We also invited other friends to spend the Saturday of the weekend with us. We graduated from high school in 1976 so that first reunion was in honor of our having been out of high school for 20 years. We had a reunion scheduled in the late 90s but it was cancelled after one Robin contracted meningitis and another sprained her ankle so severely that I think she wished she had just broken it instead. Although we got together from time to time when Caty was in town we didn’t plan an actual reunion until the one in 2012. It’s the first time we’d all be together at the same time since the night Terry and I got married. During that reunion we discussed having more reunions. If we aim for 5 year intervals we should to be looking at 2017 for the next one. On the other hand, our 40th anniversary of our high school graduations is next summer so 2016 might be a good choice. H’mmm. Guess I need to poll the group.
We don’t have many photos of all of us together although we do have photos of some of us together or some of us and others together.
Happy Friendship Day to my Best Friends!
May 26, 2015
March 27, 2015
Late Summer 2014
at Uncle Julio’s Summer 201?
September 30, 2006
December 23, 1977
Years before I had grandchildren I read an article about Granny Camp. It was about a grandmother who had all her grandchildren come to visit, all of them at once, for a week each summer. I was an attendance clerk with about 7 0r 8 weeks off for a summer break and it was an idea embraced, I fell in love with, and decided I would put into motion when we had grandchildren.
I became Data Clerk a few weeks before Colton was born. My summer break is now about 3 weeks long. We vacation during that three weeks so it makes having the week to conduct a camp for grandchildren a little more challenging.
After Colton was born he spent the night with us here and there but it wasn’t until his cousin was born when he was almost 4 that we had our first camp. Elisabeth spent her first 2-3 weeks of life in the NICU at first Seton Hospital in her birth city and then the one at Dell Children’s Hospital in Austin. My dad died the day after Elisabeth was born and his funeral/memorial service was about 10 days later. The week after his service I took Colton by train to spend a few days with Kristie, Jordan, and Elisabeth. Terry joined us over the weekend and we drove home with him.
I consider those few days in Kyle to have been our first Granny Camp. Our second camp was held as part of a 17 day, 10 state, 10 family member, 3 car road trip the following summer. Although not at our house the trip was one where our grandchildren spent lots of time with us and each other.
Last year we conducted our first week long camp. Colton and I decided to call it Camp HavinsNest and after some discussion about what my camp counselor name would be he decided Mutti would be okay as a grandma name as well as a camp counselor name. Chris and Sarah had come from Austin to visit for the week so they came to camp, too. Kristie and Jordan were getting ready to move to the UAE and were already staying at a home in the area while waiting on travel orders. Camp HavinsNest 2014 included trips to the science museum, water park, aquarium, baking cupcakes, a trip to Bonham to see the visit Poppa, and a good-bye party.
We took to the road again for Camp HavinsNest 2015. Following a week in Walt Disney World with the majority of our family Colton and I bid his parents and Daideo a fond farewell and, joining Elisabeth, we jumped into his Aunt Kristie’s car where the 4 of us drove to St Petersburg. We spent time teaching Lizzy how to ride her balance bike, enjoyed the beach, saw a movie, took a field trip back to WDW for a day at Hollywood Studios, and had fun exploring the Florida Aquarium before he and I flew home.
For me, the most important part of Camp HavinsNest is Cousin-Time! They need that time together and I can provide it through camp. They love each other and it’s fun to watch them interact. It’s especially funny to watch Colton try to take his noisy, vibrant, always moving, always talking cousin to task over something she’s done/is doing. She loves to touch him so that’s usually what he’s trying to discuss.
“Lizzy, look at me. Are you looking at me? Lizzy, you have to quit touching me. Do you understand what I’m telling you? Lizzy, are you listening to me? You have to keep your hands to yourself. If you keep touching me I’m going to have to move. Do you understand me, Lizzy? Lizzy, are you listening to me? “
I don’t know what our plan for next year’s camp is but I’ve already got the dates penciled in on the calendar.
“He for whom Zeus the lord of thunder mixes the gifts he sends, will meet now with good and now with evil fortune; but he to whom Zeus sends none but evil gifts will be pointed at by the finger of scorn, the hand of famine will pursue him to the ends of the world, and he will go up and down the face of the earth, respected neither by gods nor men.”
~Homer, The Iliad
Lots has been said in the past 2 or 3 days about a trophy hunt in Zimbabwe and the dentist who shot a lion. A lion that foreigners are seem to have been enamored with and are now enraged about although the locals don’t seem to know or care. We hunt for meat not for grins so I’m not in agreement with the hunt whether it was legal as the dentist maintains or whether he was duped into an illegal hunt as he maintains. Either way, hunting to kill rather hunting to thin an over-sized population and/or food is not something I agree with. Something else I don’t agree with is the witch hunt now taking place on Social Media.
That the fury on social media has caused the man to close his dental practice is appalling to me. The group bullying mentality is horrifying for a number of reasons but what most concerns me is no one seems to be worried about the people the dentist employees who now seem to have no job. I liked the comments in this article that discuss the debacle.
Are our values so misguided that we are willing to put people out of work over the death of a lion in another country – a country where inhabitants see lions are killers and to be feared – yet we don’t have the same fury and disgust and call to action to save starving children in that same country?
I use to have this hanging on the wall of our home. It’s always been one of my favorite things. A young friend posted something about being a mean mom. I told her to get in line. Some of us have been mean moms in 2 centuries.
“I had the meanest mother in the world. While other kids had candy for breakfast, I had to eat cereal, eggs, and toast. While other kids had cakes and candy for lunch, I had a sandwich. As you can guess, my dinner was different from other kids’ dinners, too. My mother insisted on knowing where we were at all times. You’d think we were on a chain gang or something. She had to know who our friends were and what we were doing. I’m ashamed to admit it, but she actually had the nerve to break the child labor law. She made us work. We had to wash dishes, make the beds and learn how to cook. That woman must have stayed awake nights thinking up things for us kids to do. And she insisted that we tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. By the time we were teenagers, she was much wiser and our life became more unbearable. None of this tooting the car horn for us to come running; she embarrassed us to no end by insisting that friends come to the door to get us. I forgot to mention that most of our friends were allowed to date at the mature age of 12 or 13, but our old fashioned Mother refused to let us date until we were 15. She really raised a bunch of squares. None of us were ever arrested for shoplifting or busted for dope. And who do we have to thank for that? You’re right, our mean mother. I’m trying to raise my children to stand a little straighter and taller and I am secretly tickled to pieces when my children call me mean. I thank God for giving me the meanest Mother in the world. Our country doesn’t need a good five cent cigar. It needs more mean Mothers like mine.”
~ Bobbie Pingaro – 1967