The Weekend

The Weekend

By Allan Olson

By all accounts, it was a great weekend to spend at home, aside from leaving a couple of times for work-related functions. A lot of work on the house was accomplished.

This last weekend marked my wife’s and sister-in-law’s annual pilgrimage to a friend’s home in the larger metropolitan area south of here. That left my brother and I in charge of the kids – all at my place.

This year we weren’t all crammed into a tiny trailer; we actually had room to breathe, and the kids had plenty of land to roam.

The bonus was the surprise addition of my wife’s older niece, who came to help out with the kids as well. That meant my brother and I could leave all seven of the kids (ages 3-11) with her and go fishing.

The weekend work started on Friday afternoon when, with the aid of my brother’s pressure washer, we started spraying down the siding of my house, trying to get it looking cleaner than it had been in many years.

The kids, home from school, soon were playing outside (since we kicked them out of the house), busy building forts out of sticks and whatever else they could find.

Saturday morning we fed the kids and then decided that we would hit the lake. We informed the kids that as long as it wasn’t pouring out, they didn’t need to watch the TV the whole time we were gone. We gave instructions to the babysitter: “Make sure they don’t hurt themselves too bad.” That was pretty much the extent of the instructions . . . and that they don’t get lost in the woods (too far). With that, we were off.

Fishing poles, bait, life jackets, and we were ready to land some fish.

Only one problem. Apparently the fish weren’t ready for us to catch them. We played around this little lake for three hours, trying different presentations with different baits, throwing spoons, we tried virtually everything in our arsenal and all we had to show for it was one largemouth bass caught by my brother. The problem with that: this lake had a catch-and-release for any bass, so back it went for someone else to catch and release later.

There was another angler on the lake who apparently was using the right technique, and he generously told us we could have his spot, as he was heading in. Since he had a mess of sunnies in his boat, we were more than happy to accept his offer. Once again, we tried jigs and spinners – anything to catch enough for a fish dinner – all to no avail. We decided we had better head back and rescue the sitter and try to get some more work done, even if we were empty-handed.

The remainder of the afternoon was spent pressure washing the house and keeping the kids out of the house as much as possible. If they came within the range of the spraying water, they got a little wet.

My girls really enjoyed their older cousin, who sat down and somehow managed to paint all their nails in at least two different colors.

Saturday evening found me at work again, and the majority of the kids at home with their uncle. I got to escape. He survived, and so did they.

On Sunday, the day was spent tidying up from the projects we had started. I did some more touch-up work on the dirt that was still left on the house; after extensive washing the previous two days there was (and still is) dirt that remains for another time.

Of course, we took time for some fun in the morning, too, and anyone near our rural residence probably thought there was a war going on. We broke out the .22, and this time all the kids shot one round through the clip at a target of their choosing.

When the kids were done with their rounds, my brother and I loaded up the shotgun and took aim at clay pigeons. My first shot was right on the money. I should’ve stopped at one. Between three of us, we blasted nearly 100 rounds through the shotgun (with less than that many targets). My shoulder still hurts, but the fun was worth the pain.

The kids kept trying to sneak back in the house, and I kept kicking them out.

At one point during the weekend, Abigail decided that she was hungry, and wasn’t going to ask us for a snack or lunch; she decided to just help herself. She came outside to feed the rest of the kids with her bowl of freshly washed grapes, done just the way mom does, without any help.

In all, the weekend was unadventurous but quite productive and entertaining, and best of all, little or no fighting amongst seven kids. That in itself is something of a miracle.

Thanks for reading, and remember to watch out for those school buses. As always, feel free to drop us a line and/or a photo, and have a great week. For more of my columns visit http://allan-crazykids.blogspot.com.