Tag Archives: Easter

Springtime Firsts

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First cookout tonight. First time eating dinner outside, first deviled eggs from our chickens. First bonfire, first roasting of marshmallows, first toad eating the insects at the porch light. First bright orange tulip this morning!  The predictability of each season is always a cause for celebration here. All house and car calendars have the pages turned by noon on the first of each month, and the day’s discussions are centered around the month to come. April 1st brings t-shirts and shorts, no matter the weather.

Tonight was joyous.

Springtime, food, fire and long time friends.

Oh, and marshmallow peeps.

We learned that in an emergency situation… when there is a bonfire and no marshmallows… that marshmallow peeps will do.

 First, we feasted on Patrick’s grilled steaks, pierogies, salad, and deviled eggs…look how yellow the yolks are from our chicken’s eggs!… We still have 4 dozen eggs from them in the fridge, and John Pags actually sold 2 dozen at work today! It’s their first year laying, they must be very excited.

DSC_0278Then Patrick, man of the evening, built us an amazing bonfire from all of the downed branches from the winter storms.  We have plenty of wood for the entire spring, summer and fall weekly bonfires. This called for a celebration!

DSC_0170I donated my hidden stash of Easter season marshmallow peeps, and we just so happened to have 4 Hershey chocolate bars in the closet.  No graham crackers, we improvised.  We collected roasting sticks, and got down to business.

 

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Andy doubles up

And Ray sharpened his stick…..

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Pete tried out roasting

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Ray.. still sharpening….

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Andy success!DSC_0231

 

Ray’s stick is almost sharp….

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Patrick made a great one… the sugar caramelizes it so nicely….

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After he dropped the first one…

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By the time his stick was sharp enough… Ray had almost missed the peeps.. but he got one last one…

and it was perfect….

and it was perfect….

I could end the story there… but there’s a little more….

People often ask us how we deal with alcohol, etc. here.  And I can honestly say that alcohol, with this crowd, so far is never an issue.  For various reasons, the guys are either adamantly against it because of experiences in their lives, can’t have it because of medications, or they are just plain moderate about it and barely interested. I, for one, look forward to having company over for dinner, when I can have a glass of wine without my housemates lecturing me!

Tonight, no company.  But it felt like a wine kind of night.  So after the peep roasting, I broke into the Sutter Home Chardonnay cooking wine (OK really, we buy little bottles of pretty decent wine for recipes) , brought out a hidden 6 pack of Vernor’s (really amazing) ginger ale, and had one bottle of Heineken saved for a special occasion. I gave them their choice.  They chose the ginger ale.  I chose the chardonnay.

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Happy Spring Everyone!

 

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All stories and pictures of the guys shared not only with their permission, but with their constant insistence on using every possible photo of them in each and every story on this blog… 

 

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Holidays and autism: free-to-be age inappropriate

Yesterday morning, Brent arrived at the main house at 700 AM to search for hidden easter eggs, something he has done with our family for 25 years.  He wore bunny ears, and found every egg but one (hard-boiled, and yet to be found, ugh) of the 3 dozen we colored the evening before.  His giant Easter basket (another 25 year old tradition) contained all the usual chocolate eggs and bunnies, jolly rancher jelly beans, and a few kitschy plastic Easter toys… but the best part these days are the things that he buys himself, wraps up, and gives to us the week before, to make sure the ‘easter bunny’ puts them in his basket.

Brent as a Hershey’s Kiss

As he has gotten older, he has taken matters into his own hands, refusing to take any chances that the holidays won’t happen the way he wants them to. He spent many years tormented with the possibility that something would happen before the big day came…. Christmas, Easter, Valentine’s, Halloween, May 10 (his birthday).  For a month leading up to any event, his anxiety was through the roof and he would melt down at the smallest disappointment. Not any more.  He has figured out that if he just does it all himself, he doesn’t have to depend on any of the rest of us to do it right.

He buys himself birthday presents and Christmas presents, wraps everything up, and hands them to people weeks before the actual day, and instructs them to give them to him on the holiday itself. It’s not that we would ever forget a present for Brent on any of these occasions, EVERYONE that knows Brent loves to get him things on holidays… he gets so much pleasure out of a box of Lucky Charms cereal, or a ball of yarn or a key to your car.

But he just has to be SURE. He remembers a time when he was told that holidays were for children, that he was getting too old to trick or treat…. he remembers a time when he heard rumors that Santa and the Easter Bunny were not REAL, and he doesn’t want those times to ever come back.

Twenty five or so years ago….. as a young and inexperienced student of ‘behavior modification’ for people with intellectual disabilities, I was trained to teach ‘QUIET HANDS’. …  and ‘age-appropriate’ behavior…. to facilitate ‘fitting in’ with society.  I didn’t question this, back then. (Oh yes, I question it, now.)

Dylan and Brent 2008

It was my son, Dylan, who made sure, long ago, that we preserved these holiday traditions for Brent.

Brent joined our family in 1984 when he was 16 years old, and by the time Dylan was born… almost 22 years ago… I had already begun to try and make Brent ‘understand’ that he was an adult (he was 21) and that adults celebrate holidays differently from children. There were a few years before Dylan knew what holidays were all about, and those years were frustrating for Brent.

Not to worry, those days are gone forever.

It began with Christmas Eve, with Dylan and Brent putting on their Christmas pajamas and listening to Grandma Bobbie read ‘The Night Before Christmas’ before they went upstairs to Dylan’s bedroom. Brent moved to the spare bed in Dylan’s room for the night.  They knew the rules… they had to wait until 630AM before they could go downstairs to see if Santa had come.  Sometimes they would sneak downstairs in the middle of the night together, anyways.

Christmas 1998

But it was Halloween where we REALLY got creative.  It was fine for a few years when Dylan was really young… but there came a time when I just couldn’t let Brent trick or treat in the community anymore.  You can not imagine how scary he is dressed up as a clown.  Clowns are creepy anyways, but with a stiff autistic gait and no response when spoken to….

So we solved this problem. Brilliantly, I might say.  We had two houses on our lane (and now we have three houses!  last year was great fun!).  Each house has 4-5 doors to the outside, counting the garage, basements, playroom, etc. Brent gets dressed up in his costume (actually, Brent wears his costume for at least three days, everywhere he goes ).  We stay inside the house, and Brent runs around outside of the house knocking on each door and exclaiming TRICK OR TREAT! when we answer with a bowl of candy.  So now Brent gets to Trick or Treat at 13-14 doors, and ends up with a bag full of Halloween candy.  Last year, the other guys on the Hill wouldn’t join him, they thought it was childish.  Guess what?  This year they did.

And as for all of us boring neurotypicals who tried to end this childish behavior?  We are embracing Brent holidays…. and now we get dressed up in our costumes and run around on the INSIDE of the houses…and change our wigs and hats and masks for each door that Brent knocks on.

And yes, each Christmas Eve Brent still packs his overnight bag and walks next

Brent and Dylan, Christmas 2012

Brent and Dylan, Christmas 2012

door to our family home where Dylan is…. to spend Christmas Eve in Dylan’s room.  And my absolute favorite moment of the year is STILL the time that comes on Christmas Eve after Brent reads us ‘The Night Before Christmas’ in honor of Grandma Bobbie… and he and Dylan go upstairs in their Christmas pajamas, and Dylan tucks Brent in and reminds him to wake him up at 630AM (Dylan needs a little help getting out of bed that early now)… so that they can go downstairs and sit together by the light of the Christmas tree lights…. playing with that kitschy singing toy Santa that Brent had on his Christmas list.