This is not an unusual scene in my backyard:
You might get the idea that we are big campers.
Not that we aren’t, but we aren’t.
(I can’t tell you the last time we went camping, which is actually sort of sad.)
We aren’t opposed to camping, it just hasn’t happened recently. Life is busy, y’all.
If you have teenagers, especially teenagers who have older siblings who go to college or teenagers who have attended summer camps where college students work, you may look out your back door and see the very same thing.
(Actually, if you have college students, you are more likely to see this around their college campus. I see hammocks, occasionally, on the Baylor campus, and I know it’s happening on college campuses all over the nation.)
(I would have LOVED to have a hammock, at college, to lie in while studying!)
(That statement assumes I actually studied.)
(Admittedly, I DID have a hammock in my apartment bedroom during my Junior year at Baylor. It was just for looks, though; it held my stuffed animals and Beenie Babies.)
(Remember Beenie Babies?!)
The hammock is called an Eno, short for Eagles Nest Outfitters. They are fantastically light-weight, small and quite comfy. Both of our sons love theirs.
Obviously, our youngest loves his enough to use his around the house, during non-camping days and weeks.
Sometimes, it’s even strung up directly on the back porch…so he can see the tv.
(I wish I had a picture of it; pure laziness and comfort at its best.)
iPhone pic of our son and a couple of his good friends, last Spring:
The kids are even prone to stacking the hammocks, so they hang directly above and below each other!
My youngest and I recently had a conversation concerning Prom: he said he thinks it would be WAY more fun for his group of friends to get all dressed up, take pictures, go eat at a fancy restaurant, then, instead of going to the actual Prom, they should come back to our house, change clothes, go build a fire down by the river and spend the night in Enos.
(with adult chaperones, of course!)
Enos and S’mores! How fun is that?!
Doesn’t his “non-Prom” idea sound fantastic?!
So, if you are in need of an unusual and uber cool gift for your teenaged (or college-aged) son or daughter (yes, many of our sons’ girl friends own and love them!), you might look into getting them a hammock.
(I’m all for a gift that moves them outside and up into the trees!)
Happy Hammock-ing, y’all!
Why is our American football game called football, when we (I use the term “we” quite loosely, beings as I personally do not play football) use our HANDS and feet?
Why do we call soccer, soccer? (What, exactly, does the word soccer even mean??)
I tend to agree with our friends across the pond, that it IS football.
(Or is it fotbol?)
Either way, it is played, solely, with the feet. No hands.
(Okay, okay…for the smartypants…the goalie can handle the soccer ball with his hands. AND…if the ball must be thrown in, the hands are used. But, those are the only exceptions.)
Why, pray tell, am I even bothering with this subject?
Well, our youngest punk decided, just this past Fall, to try out for the soccer team.
He has never, ever played soccer before.
He actually made the team!
He actually knows what he is doing!
Oh, good grief, look, here’s proof:
As most of you know, if you’ve read this blog or are friends with me on Facebook, I LOVE ME SOME FOOTBALL.
American COLLEGE football, to be exact.
American BAYLOR college football, to be even more exact.
I’m the teeniest, tiniest, wee-little-bit, obsessed.
So, I get football. For the most part, I understand all the rules and strategies of football.
Starting this January, though, I had to learn a new kind of football.
(Which, as I’ve already alluded to, should actually be called FOOTball.)
(Although, I am trying to come up with a new name for American football, that would sound good. So far nothing comes to mind.)
Anyway, I am learning about this new-to-me game and am loving it! I can see why the rest of the entire world likes the game!
If you know anything about soccer, you know there are quite a few differences between soccer and football.
Here are some things I’ve just recently learned:
- The clock runs UP to 90 minutes, not down. (This is Premier League soccer–Professional, not high school.)
- The clock never stops. (This is mostly true in high school play, as well.)
- The umpire (or are they referees? I need to find out.) carries yellow and red cards–not flags–to signify a penalty.
- I was at one of my very first games when I saw, what I thought was a penalty, and immediately stood up, threw my arms up in the air and yelled–quite LOUDLY, I must add—-“WHERE’S THE FLAG, REF?!! WHERE.IS.THE.FLAG?!”
- (Remember, refs don’t have flags to throw in soccer. My bad.)
- Yellow cards are warnings. “You better watch out, player! Don’t do that again!” Or, “You need to cool it…go sit the bench for a play or two and calm down.” (Or, something along those lines.)
- Red cards are UH-OH; YOU MESSED UP, DUDE. “Go sit on the bench, buddy. You’re out of the game.”
- Soccer is full of actors. There are some flopping performances (falling down, rolling around on the ground, holding your shin, pretending to be hurt) that should, honestly, be given awards. It can be quite moving.
- (remember, I’m new to this, so I may not be technically accurate on some of these points) At the end of a high school game, if the score is tied, each team gets 10 more minutes of play time to try to score. If they are still tied at the end of the two 10 minute intervals, you have penalty kicks. THIS is a VERY exciting part of the game! Each team gets 5 players who each take alternating turns at a chance to kick a goal. The crowd is to remain quiet while the players each have their turn at out-smarting the goalie. Very exciting, y’all!
- You are not required to carry a vuvuzela (Google it.). (Darn it. I would go crazy with it, if I had one!!)
- High school soccer is played–at least in Texas–during the WORST season of the year. It is usually BITTERLY cold! (I know, I know, if I lived in Wisconsin or Montana, I would actually know what bitterly cold means, but to this born and raised Texas girl, 19 degrees with sleet and wind is TEETH-CHATTERING-INHUMANLY-UNREASONABLY-STUPID-COLD!!
- so there.
One last parting video my son recently showed me I think you’ll like:
OH! And, guess what?!
We are play-offs bound!!
Has it been nearly two years??
A lot has happened in those two years…mainly adjusting to country life is what has happened.
And, loving on and serving with our neighbors.
And, watching a ton of Baylor football (and basketball).
And, purchasing some cows.
And a donkey.
And, planting a garden (or two).
And, watching our oldest change colleges and majors…and join the wake boarding team.
And, cheering on our youngest in high school football…and soon, soccer.
I’ve missed occasionally writing and photographing the happenings around our family, so I’m hoping 2015 will be the year I get back in the habit…if you’ll have me back in your email box and on your FB newsfeed, that is.
Because we are wrapping up the last little bit of 2014 (say it ain’t so!!), I thought I’d throw out a couple of pictures of what I mentioned above. A lot of the pictures were taken with my iphone…”the best camera you own is the one you are presently carrying…”and I carried my phone WAY more than my “big boy” Canon camera. (That’s another habit I hope to change in 2015.)
More to come!
(I’ve missed you.)
We were so wet behind the ears, weren’t we, Babe?
Young, and so very, very unprepared.
Sometimes I still feel that way. Unprepared. Naive.
Most of the time, though, I feel Secure.
Over the years, we’ve changed quite dramatically.
Our hairlines have grayed and thinned.
Our middles have expanded and contracted…and expanded again. (Well, okay, mine has expanded again. You quit drinking Dr. Peppers and you magically lost 1,000 pounds in 2 weeks. Yes, I still love you even though I’m desperately jealous.)
Our two boys have each reached well over 6 feet–we are now looking up to speak to them. They are no longer small enough to hoist onto our hips, nor do they take 2 hour afternoon naps. They look like you. And, yet, they look like me. Personality-wise, one is more like you, one my mini-me. And, yet, really, they are not carbon copies of either of us. They are their own, individual, strong, Godly persons.
We’ve survived your various church staff positions over the years and learned from each and every experience. In looking back, even the hurtful job changes can be viewed as good–stretching, growing, hopefully maturing seasons.
We’ve buried both of my parents in less than 5 years.
We’ve moved closer to yours.
Can you believe we are no longer in our 20s, our 30s? …We are nearing the age of “older parents,” maybe even grandparent age!
Even with the job changes and moves, etc., I think the last couple of years have been the most trying. Wouldn’t you say that? In a weird, tons-of-change-kind-of-way? And throughout all the years, we have never once discussed the idea of living separately, away from one another. Never.
Has the thought occurred to either of us? I’m sure, yes, but it never gained momentum, was never given life.
I can’t imagine that life; I don’t want to.
I thank God daily that He continues to share you with me, that He shares the boys with us.
You each are a gift, a treasure.
Thank you, ThrillCam, for 23 really great years.
I look forward to 23-plus more with you.
All my love,
P.S. Here’s a crazy and amazing must-read story of some of our family history, our destiny. Not only does it tell a little more of how ThrillCam and I met in college, but how 3 generations earlier, our families were oddly connected.
I often get asked, “Why ThrillCam?”
Okay, not often, but occasionally.
To be perfectly honest, rarely…
Rarely do they ask.
On that rare occasion, I must first ask them for clarification.
The person usually responds, “No, Elizabeth, I understand why you married him. What I mean is, why the NAME ThrillCam?”
I know I’ve explained this before in various blog posts, but it finally dawned on me to add some video footage to back my story.
You see, I’ve called ThrillCam, ThrillCam, since the 1980’s when we met and fell in love in college.
(Baylor University, by the way–Sic ’em!!!)
IT WAS THE EIGHTIES, PEOPLE!!!!
We were young, skinny, had more hair, and gosh, I want those legs back…
Anyway, during that time, The David Letterman Show was doing an reoccurring segment on his show called, Late Night Thrill-Cam!
(Oh, and my husband’s name is Cameron.)
Scroll forward to the time 7:10 to watch the segment:
The ThrillCam was such a roaring success, the David Letterman Show added new versions of the ThrillCam:
(Audio is not great, sorry.)
If I remember correctly, David Letterman also had the Late Night CowCam. (I’m thinking the whole Late Night ________Cam fizzled out after the CowCam. Can’t imagine why…)
Anyway, my husband’s nickname has stuck, at least, for me. Surely no one else would want to call him ThrillCam, which, I believe I’m safe in saying, he greatly appreciates.
No matter what you call him, he’ll always be my beloved.