Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness

Seriously? It's been over a year since I wrote? And I think about it daily? I've fallen a little short on personal goals. Since May 2009, I've PR'd in a marathon, and lived a life with four kids. Rock n Roll Seattle was June 2009, and I ran a 3:24. I've run 12 marathons in 17 years, and that was my fastest. Today was Rock n Roll 2010. My husband ran, and I spectated. I had a blast, but I'm so jealous. I think more than anything, I really want the bright green shirt. I swore I wouldn't run another marathon this year. I ran the Sunflower in May, and Newport in June - both without training. A little silly, but I learned a lot about my capabilities. I'd like to focus on training for an early fall 10K, and trying to PR. I don't think that in my 30 years of running, I've ever really trained for a 10K. Funny, 30 years of running. I'll be 40 next month, and I've been running since I was 10. My kids are 2, 9, 12, and 14. They're all runners. (The little one just doesn't know it yet.) The 9-yr-old set a city-wide record for her 4x100 relay this spring. The 12 and 14 yr olds went to the city meet for middle school, and the oldest is training for cross-country season this fall. My husband ran a marathon today (his first since his Ironman last summer), and is paddling 12 miles tomorrow as part of a multi-sport relay. A 10K for me at the end of summer seems sort of trivial. In the last month, with 4 kids, I've been camping three times, there's been BMX racing, track finals, ice-skating performance, Spring music concert, 8th grade graduation . . . and then just the day to day preschool, cooking dinner, shuttling to and fro, laundry, etc. So, again, just a 10K in the fall? Maybe I ought to run a half marathon shortly after. It was a huge high to get up at 5:30 the other day because my 14-yr-old requested to go for a run in the early morning. The northwest is cloudy, cloudy, and then cloudy. This time of year when it's suddenly sunny and it's light from 5 am til 10 pm, you take advantage of anything you can get. My kids are out of school until September. Think of all that time I can train. I can take the kids to the track, I can go solo at sunrise, I can do an afternoon run at the beach and follow it up with a dip in the lake . .

I love running. I hope to love it until the day that I exist no longer on this planet. But I love writing too. How on earth have I thought about it and plotted and planned it day after day, and never really accomplished it? Perhaps because I'm more busy than I'll admit. I feel like I'm superhuman and I can do it all. Dinner has been prepped, served and cleaned up. The 14-yr-old is in the kitchen baking a gluten-free cake, the 12-yr-old has accomplished putting a new ring-tone on her mother's phone, and is busy on the internet, the marathoner is asleep on the recliner (perhaps I shouldn't have fed him the second beer). The 9-yr-old has plugged the 2-yr-old into a Sesame street video from the library. I'm sure there's some laundry to do, or some food prep for my long day tomorrow to and from the paddle event with kids in tow. But it's been fun to steal a moment for a few random words.

How do they do it in NYC?

I love everything about New York. I've never been there, but that doesn't matter. I'll get there. I love the city, I love the culture, I love the people. I love the idea that when you live in the city it doesn't make sense to have a car. I can envision walking to the market, the park down the street, and taking the dog around the block. It makes so much sense to live close enough to all of your needs - to get everything done in a familiar circuit.

But then I thought about it today . . . I live out of my car, in the figurative sorta way.

My 'trip to the market' requires a weekly menu plan, list-making, coupon clipping, a drive across town to the bargain market, the next town over for my specialty items, and across the bridge to the produce market. Toddler in tow, grocery bags, diaper bag . . .

Then I add a run into my day - which brings up issues of the baby jogger, the rain fly, blankets, dry clothes if I'm grocery shopping, mapping a park route via the grocery trip that has swings and walking space for the jogger-rider.

At this rate, I'll be gone so long, I'll need to pack a snack and water for myself and a lunch for the little guy, and consider time for a diaper change. So, in all of this, my car shuttled my kids to school, carried ten bags of groceries (we eat a lot), transported the jogger and all my gear, became a snack table, and later a changing table and a dressing room (with some clean-up both times).

I run in some amazing places with the little guy napping in his jogger. We did ten rainy miles today on a paved park path along the lakeshore. Evergreens dripping down from way up high, woodpeckers in the trees - and hardly a soul out and about. And we made two grocery stops. And ate in the car. I just don't get how they do all that in New York. I think I'm enamored of it all somehow because it seems so simple. But maybe I'd miss all of my planning and complexity and my adventures.

Fitting in the outdoors

Sunday came and went. I was out the door at sunrise. My favorite run skirts the water of Elliot Bay as it heads 15 miles north. I love the city and how much life goes on within it. All in one run was a whole lifetime of observation. I started out tiptoeing past the sleepers under the bridge. I ran through the industrial area and gawked in awe of the size of the port, the railroad, the freeways, and the metropolitan skyrises looming ahead. The waterfront was a bustle of activity with sidewalks being hosed off, people leaving a shelter to exist somewhere else in the daytime, those dragging luggage for the boat to Canada, and the first cruise ship of the season sailing into port. Then my hill. It may not be the steepest in the city, but starts out as a hefty incline, and continues three miles to the biggest park in the city. And those three miles reward me with sweeping views of the sound, the marina below, the tankers, the islands . . . but really I like looking at where I started out across the bay and how high up I've come from the water below, knowing I ran up that high and that far from home. I can actually see it simultaneously. There are very few people out this early. Not even the gardeners getting started on the lawns of these expertly manicured grand homes in the neighborhood. The park brings me more views - further west and north, rabbits, birds, sandy trails, open fields - then into the woods with tall trees and switchbacks. You can zigzag so fast it becomes a game. I run down down down out of the park to the locks and watch for boats and salmon and heron that live nearby. My last couple of miles are along the bike trail and through the marina full of sails waiting to be taken for a ride. And then the golden park. Golden Gardens really is it's name. Sandy beaches galore. But golden for me, because my husband has arrived. While I've been running . . . he's gotten four kids up and out the door with cocoa, stopped at the bagel shop, and brought me warm clothes and a couple of recovery drinks.

What does one do next in this scenario? My husband took off for his point-to-point run - today that was 12 miles east. The kids and I dug in the sand, watched trains, found statues, found a troll, leapfrogged through town and took the dog for a swim at the dog park on the lake where my husband's run ended. We were all home in good time before lunch.

Spring Break in Seattle

Rainy Seattle isn't really anyone's idea of a spring break location but sometimes in life you just don't get to do the choosing.

My family is all sick except me and the one who is attending three different sleepovers in four days. My marathon training plans were going great. I visualize the event every single day and I get so excited just thinking about it. I even had it all planned out with the kids home all week from school. One day I'd put three on bikes and one in the jogger and go to the locks and ride out a trail to the park. Another day I could do Greenlake and the zoo. I'd get my runs in, the kids would get out, and the little one would get his nap in the jogger. That was all before the sore throats, stuffy noses, headaches, fevers and doctor visits. I didn't even run at all today and my weekly mileage is totally screwed.

Yesterday I reached burnout by late afternoon. My run had never transpired. The cool planned outing with kids never happened. The toddler never got a nap all day. I spent hours grocery shopping at three different stores with sick kids and accomplished nothing more. Nothing tries my patience more than sick kids. Somehow all of a sudden they become so helpless and I feel overstretched and want a break. So much for the satisfaction of being a stay-at-home mom. I made coffee at 4:00, knowing it'd keep me up late, but not caring because I was so tired and cranky. I even decided it was late enough in my day and turned it into a coffee cocktail. Most delicious. I started dinner and chalked it all up to just another day - tomorrow would be different. After my husband arrived home, I calculated how much time I had until he had to leave for a meeting, and thought . . . just maybe . . .

I pulled on some running clothes, grabbed my music and headed out the door. I sorta wondered if that cocktail I had earlier is how crazy runners train for those pub crawls. Sometimes, though, you just have to take the opportunity when you have it. Evening is a weird time of day to run for me - I do the day thing with the baby in the jogger and he does his nap thing. My run was so different it was amazing. I ran hard and fast - it's amazing how different it feels when you aren't pushing a jogger with a baby wearing ten layers of clothes and blankets and the rain fly.

I ran the same place I probably run 3 or 4 days a week, but at twilight nothing seemed the same. There was this one moment where I looked all around me and thought about my camera. It seemed ironic to me that the camera is broken. Almost as if it were a silent message to me to forget the tool and just open my eyes and take a look around and something I might miss.

I could look out across the bay to the city skyline as the lights were just beginning to twinkle. The sky beyond was dark and grey, but the mirrored buildings reflected the last bits of light from the fading day. A waterfront restaurant was all aglow in colorful holidayish lights that made it look like a magical wonderland. A couple of eagles flew overhead and I watched one soar up to the nest high in the trees. While I was looking up, I almost tripped over the geese scurrying across the path trying to stay out of my way. I stopped and noticed the babies. Finally. The baby geese - goslings if you prefer. To me, that and the sweet cherry blossoms signal spring around here. The winter has been unseasonably cold and wet, and today at the beginning of April it was snowing - like a sick April Fool's joke. But there were the tiniest of geese all huddled together hustling around with mom and dad. It doesn't last long. The smallness, the fragility, the clinginess. It's all a necessary part of an amazing process. It made me re-evaluate my little ones and not so little ones at home feeling needy. Some days are hard, but they're worth it.

I love my family. I love running. And I love when winter is over.

Passion for Writing

I opened my blog and discovered with shock the last date in November. And the pics of Jackson are from a lifetime ago - now he runs around and climbs up the shelves. The truth is, I think about writing every day. I want to be a writer. I think I am a writer. How can that be when I'm not writing? Facebook drives me crazy because every time I post something I feel the need to explain myself and write a long description - but that defeats the whole purpose of Facebook.

So I'm asking myself how I am a writer if I'm not writing. I want to publish something. I've had countless people tell me throughout time that I am a skilled writer. Someone even said once that I missed my calling as a writer. Missed it? I'm not old. You're never too old for anything. I think my mind lives and breathes writing. I'm a little rusty - in fact I'm just spitting stuff out right now as it pops in and out of my head and it's really disorganized. I hate that. I think that prevents me from writing. I have a little obsessiveness and feel the need for it to be perfect from the start. I want it clean and pretty. I want my words to flow with wisdom and affect the reader in ways I can't begin to imagine.

Throughout my day I think as if I'm writing. I think of titles and topics and subcategories and who my audience is or can be. I consider the introductions and the chapters and funny tales and the time I'll spend writing. And then for some reason, I don't write. Like I said, I think it's a perfectionism thing. I feel like I have to have a plan and a publisher and the topic and the done deal before I start. People tell me, "no, no - you just need to write . . and write and write - it'll happen for you." Sorta the 'if you build it, they will come' theory. So this is my giving in. I'm writing and it's not perfect and it drives me nuts. It's like the free writes I learned in 8th grade when we had a time limit and kept our pencils constantly on the paper or we had to fill the page.

I'm not sure if I want to write about running and my latest marathon training or what my plans are for dinner this week or my adventures with my kids in the rain. I think it's wrapped up in all of that somewhere, but that's all I can figure for now. It'll have to evolve when I'm ready - tomorrow or next year. It'll figure out it's topics and it's readers. It'll develop it's own voice and place in this crazy cyber world. It'll seek out it's dreams of columns or articles in some published format. It'll find friends and groups and lectures. But for now, the writing just is.

weather

I'm not sure if it's just me, or a part of me that is exaggerated a little more than others, but I have a thing with the weather. I think I mentioned recently that it isn't wise to get me started about the national hurricane center. Well, the Atlantic hurricane season is drawing to a close. I suppose I could discuss my obsession with the sites I have bookmarked with the northern Aurora forecasts. I don't live in Alaska, but I've seen them from here and they are truly an other-world experience. It really isn't peak aurora season here either, though. What's really funny, is that where I live, it's gonna be cloudy with a chance of rain, 90 percent of the time, for the next six months. I have no idea why I'm obsessed with the weather. The tides fascinate me. Trying to decipher whether it is going in or going out at first glance is a subject of pride with me. I figure I run along the beach often enough that I ought to know. Some of my favorite runs have been the ability to sneak along the 'never trodden upon' sand at really low tide. It's a little challenging lately with the baby jogger. But the other day we (the baby in the jogger and I) played hide and seek with a harbor seal for a good mile or two from the seawall, so it was okay that I wasn't on the sand. But I'm digressing from the weather.

It's November. For the next four months I will hope for snow. Otherwise it will be cloudy with a chance of meatballs as it hovers near forty degrees day and night. It is so damp here that I have a de-humidifier running in my home several hours a day. But back to snow. This morning it was 32 degrees when I awoke. And unlike the rest of the world that uses a metric thermometer, 32 degrees here is freezing. But no snow today. Just a life-altering sunrise.

I used to try to decide if I was a sunrise or a sunset person, and never came to a concrete conclusion. Until today. When I pulled up the blinds, the sky was still dark on the eastern horizon, with a hint of light from the impending sunrise. The moon was but a sliver of silver with a shadow of it's better half. I sat with my hands glued to my ceramic coffee mug hoping the heat transfer would tame the chill of early morning. And as I sat, the night turned to day. The moon began to fade against the sky as a pink glow emerged. Mount Rainier appeared in all of its glory as a silhouette against a painting in transformation. Clouds slowly formed in pattern to celebrate the light as the pink turned to a fluorescence. I have no idea how long I watched, transfixed by the show, until it became a yellowish light and the day had begun. The vision, though, carried me throughout my day and somehow uplifted me every time I remembered it - like it had been a promise of the day to come and a celebration of my every moment.

I wish I could share a photograph - but maybe I just did. And I just decided that I'm a sunrise person. Although, sunsets can be pretty amazing - reflecting back in thanks on all that has been.

But now, I have to check the forecast, for tomorrow . . . I get to travel over the mountains and oh so hope that I will get to glimpse some snow.

Tech Savvy - keep up!

I can't keep up. It still amazes me that my 93 year old grandmother (who died a few years back) was trying to understand email. Trying. Blogging evolves too quickly to begin with, now there's twitter and facebook and linkedIn . . holy moly. I'm lucky when the laundry is washed (mind you - I didn't say folded), there is food in the house to eat (and mind you again, I didn't say cooked or prepared or on the table), and especially when I get a run in.

It's crazy how some people are doing it all - they're texting all day, and they're on facebook, and they're twittering and they're keeping up with a blog. I don't know if it's the time it takes to do it all that gets me, or the time it takes to try and understand it all. The time to actually maintain your own stuff is monumental, but then to check and respond to everyone else's stuff is a whole other agenda entirely. But I suppose it's connecting people. And that length of time that I can type a blog or read someone's wall on facebook and connect - would take me so much more time and money without the technology. It really is an amazing thing - this interconnectedness.

Our oldest wants a facebook account for her upcoming birthday that will officially mark her entrance into teenhood. She just wants it so she can build a city on the site. Most of her friends don't know a thing about facebook - yet. She has a blog. Some kids her age are into that - but it takes time and dedication. She has an email address. She has a cell phone. She chats with her friends online, but her phone is merely a tool for emergencies and important endeavors.

Our second oldest is 11. She has an email address. That's it. But she can use skype and have videoconferences with her friend in Australia. How cool is that.

The youngest two - they see the computer as a toy and cell phones for talking to family. That's the way it should be. Let them play a little and then go outside and play in nature.

I was gonna say - 'go outside and play in the real world' but I stopped myself. This . . . internet, chat, cell phones, facebook, blogs, twitter - it is the real world. Today it is. And I'm trying to keep up. And I'm trying to educate my kids to keep up according to their age, but yet to instill in them that there is still a physical world right outside the front door. It's not in the computer. Somehow I'm learning there is a balance.

Aahh, yes - and baby pictures. Although, truly, because he's walking everywhere, he's now graduated from babyhood to the land of toddlers.

April

May

June

July

August

September

The Sun That Won't Stop

How funny that it was raining when I wrote last. It seems like October has been sunny every single day. I always razz my brother about the weather in October. He says his birthday during the month is the most beautiful day of the year - we share our love of the fall and all of the things it entails, including colorful running weather with the leaves crunching underfoot and that crisp feeling in the air with the bright blue sky. I complained to him that after his special day, the weather was gonna sour and it'd be all his fault. Somehow it turned even more orange and golden outside. Usually around here it's just rainy and windy and the leaves all fall off.

I took little Jack outside today. Not really to the park, but there was a park involved - some swings and some stairs to climb up to the slide. Every time he swings forward he closes his eyes to the wind that gushes toward his face. And he laughs at the rush of it all. The stairs - he has learned to climb those with his little legs, although he'd rather climb up the slide itself. But the most fun he had was not at the playground, but at the beach. For, you see, someone nearby was feeding the seagulls, which meant there were many around. And they were so much fun to chase. The clever monkey learned to walk a couple of weeks ago, but he can go faster on all fours. He simply couldn't figure out why the seagulls would fly away when he got near.

My day is so taken up with I have no idea what, that I sometimes forget that I never even considered going for a run. But then - there was my grand accident to consider. My lovely fall after my dizzy spells. It sounds grand, but really - I fell on my butt and I've never had a little whoopsiedaisy become so debilitating. It was 3 weeks ago, and I think I might be able to run. I can stand on one foot when I put on my socks - and that's recent progress. Sitting comfortably is getting easier. And my dizzy thing was a bad relationship I had with my friend the pump. Super Jack is now on formula and happy as can be. Maybe I'll try to run tomorrow. Or at least go for a walk.

After all, I have cooking to do. I'll be busy. I cooked a pumpkin tonight and I have to puree it and turn it into gluten free pumpkin spice cake with an apple glaze. The kids need treats for their lunches, don't they? And the weather really is supposed to turn yucky and little Jack and I will need an excuse to stay inside and play - until I find him some rain boots . .

Where Am I?

It's been awhile and I soo miss blogging. I've been anonymously reading once in a while, but when I have a free moment I'm usually busy being the chef and chauffeur and activity planner of the household. I thought when the girls started school it'd be so easy to transition back into running and blogging. It's happening, but it's so so so slow. Progress was great until the baby decided to wean himself cold turkey and then I got sick, and two family members were out of town. Crazy September. Now it's October and it's raining. Fitting for Seattle. All the talk around here is about Halloween costumes - so far it's a vampire, an alien, a witch? I think, and baby Jack-Jack from The Incredibles. I'm gonna dress up as a chef, a chauffeur and an activity planner.

Time has flown by so fast with this little munchkin - I can't believe he's 10 months old already! He's on the back patio - asleep in the rain in his baby jogger - (complete with the rain fly of course.) All the talk around here lately is the next big race - but it's not mine. It's the mighty Ironman my husband registered for. How cool. I'm totally in awe of the ironman and so impressed with his new endeavor. I want to marathon train some more, but I keep pushing out my goal race. I have some flexible plans in my head, but I just want to be consistently training for a while before I commit.

Other than running and all things baby, my focus has been on gluten free blogs a lot lately. I've thought of writing about cooking instead of running, but I enjoy reading about cooking and then playing in my kitchen. We (our family of six) eat primarily gluten and dairy-free in our house so it's always exciting to discover new ideas. Our twelve-year-old has a passion for cooking and is becoming quite the talent in the kitchen. She's taking two cooking classes concurrently. What a hoot. My other fascination is the national hurricane center - I can't get enough - I shouldn't even get started.

Running used to bring me quiet alone time that transpired into all sorts of writing. Now it brings me a flat course, the baby in the baby jogger with the rain fly and diapers and a bottle and the snack cup with the tight lid and the blankie . . .
Katy is all pissy at me - she didn't tell me, she pops off to my hubby about me - because I haven't been blogging. She's so funny. And I've had some other emails about where I've been. So, I'm here. Not at my computer with the new quiet keyboard, but in the kitchen with the laptop so I can see the baby on the patio. It's always about the baby. Maybe I'll post some pictures soon - Jackson with his 8 teeth and his almost walking feet. And guess who just woke up? Later.

Teetering on the Edge

teetering on the edge of what? insanity mostly. hang on - gotta put on my new reading glasses. I'm teetering on the edge of getting old and I have too many kids. I think I'm up to four - not sure - there's always a different number running through the house. teetering on the edge of being a runner. some weeks i run, some weeks I don't get it in. I'm not sure about that fall marathon I've been dreaming about, and I'm gonna have to leave it at that. I ran today. I put on my running shoes and made it through the entire zoo with baby and jogger in tow, in under two hours. I can NEVER accomplish that with the older kids. Then I left my car parked and walked to the lake, ran around the lake, and walked back. Three hours in all with that jogger. That's because it's sunny in the city and it brings people out. Teetering on the edge of summer. It's hot out today, the cruise ships are back and the geese have had their babies. That's how I can tell. Jackson's teetering on the edge of everything. He got two teeth this week and learned to roll over. He's on the verge of sitting up, and that would be most excellent. I'd love to let him sit and play with his toys and not always pack him around. My back would really appreciate it. He's getting so big - 5 months already - and he's already been camping in a yurt and dipped his barefeet in the sand down at the beach. Teetering on the edge of summer was that camping in a yurt. I can't wait 'til real summer and camping outside. Only two short trips planned - not including the cabin and the kids school camps. Short because we're not sure how Jack-Jack will handle a long ride in the car. And I don't get to overnight on the kids' school trips because I'm still attached to a nursing baby and he might keep little campers up at night. Teetering on the edge of writing and being a blogger. I wrote a cool post on Mother's Day. Wrote is the key word there - I never typed it. The clicky keyboard is too close to where the baby sleeps and it seems to wake him up. (the mister says he can get me a quieter one) Thus, lack of writing. When the day is almost through, and I can steal a moment, typing would wake him up and ruin my moment (and his). So I wrote with a writing utenstil and paper with the intent of typing it later. Later never happened. I think about blog post topics all the time - I guess I'll get back into it when it happens. I miss reading blogs and seeing what goes on around the world in everyone else's lives. I think the handwritten post was a lot about the passage of time. Looking back, looking forward, and living in the present. Trying to, at least. With a 12-year old on the verge of teen things (oh, my), a 10-year old who needs a million sports daily to exist properly, a 7-year old who thinks we don't love her anymore (she confessed this to her teacher who told me so), and the little guy who zaps all the energy away. Living in the present is what drives us to insanity. Living in the past brings me laughter and learning and living in the future is the stuff of dreams. Future? Right now I think I oughtta live one day at a time. And just hope in the future that there is cookies and sunshine like today.

Invincibility

Sometimes in life I have these moments where I feel like I can do anything. It's sort of a euphoric feeling - like I'm on top of the world. Even more than a feeling like the world is out there and I can live in it and do as I please, it's as if I'm one with the energy of the universe and I'm about to accomplish more than my mind can conceive. It's an amazing reflection on the power within.

Everyday isn't like that. I'm working slowly to get back in shape and it isn't always easy with an infant and my family schedule. But it isn't ever easy for anyone, really. It's a lot of where you set your goals and how hard you work to achieve them. And never making excuses. Just accepting life and moving forward with it. Kind of exciting really. Lately I've been thinking about two profound questions. At the beginning of the day - What am I going to get to do today? And at the end of the day - What did I celebrate today? It's all just a little bit of livin'.

The Iditarod started yesterday - and damn if it ain't just a little bit o' that livin'. I think it's the most fascinating study of the human experience that I've ever seen. Check it out.

Tomorrow

"Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow . . . " - William Shakespeare
Sometimes I mourn the days gone by and live for the thrill of tomorrow's unknown. It seems to somehow all meld together and go by so fast. One looks forward to the future, but when it's gone, wonders where it all went. Having a new baby has been one of those reminder lessons to live more in the present and enjoy each and every moment. And what would those moments be if you didn't laugh and cry and allow yourself the emotion?

I can tell I'm getting ready to blog again, because I start writing in my head throughout my day. Finding the energy and the time combined is another issue entirely. When my husband walks in the door, home from work, here's a common scenario:

"Hi honey! (baby crying) Can you take him? He's cranky, he needs a diaper change, and I think he just wants to be held - he won't let me put him down. #3 needs help with homework - something's going on with the computer, #2 is mad at me and wants to know if you'll go to the gym to shoot hoops, and #1 is having a pre-teen moment, and will you tell her to turn down her music? Hey honey, when you're done changing his diaper, can you pour me a glass of wine and help me fix dinner?"

That's the reality. I swear it. But at least we can laugh about it. I love my family. I wouldn't change a thing. We just spent some of our tax money on a zoo membership. The river otters are my favorite.

My first sorta run
It was back in early January. We'd just spent a week at the cabin. I watched my husband and kids go x-c skiing, sledding, snowshoeing, iceskating . . . I went for a walk to the end of the street and back, and it made me sore. I didn't feel up to doing all those cool things, I was with the new baby - but I was still sorta bummed. I didn't get to see the kids do all those cool things or be with my husband experiencing it. So the next week we were at home, and it was raining profusely and the kids had been sick and on school vacation. I had to get out of the house. We had a new little stroller and one of the kids had asked Santa for a kickball, and Santa came through. I piled the kids into the car and we drove to a nearby elementary school. The three girls played a game (or 2 or 3) of kickball in the pouring rain, and I hung out in the covered blacktop nearby - baby in stroller, walking laps around the basketball court. It was the highlight of winter break to watch how much fun the girls had, and to be outside. (I think I walked 30 seconds per lap - I had to clock it - some sick internal runner disease.)



My first real run
January 27th. It was sunny. It was a Saturday afternoon. I really had nothing else to do. I had gone for several walks in the previous weeks. My husband convinced me that I should go and that it would be good for me. Baby Jackson was now 7 weeks old and we'd been glued to each other 24/7. I got dressed and ready to go, but then I procrastinated. At this point my husband had to do some persuasive encouraging. I cried (hormones), but my husband convinced me that Jackson would be okay without me. I wasn't gonna be gone very long, and if he fussed, he'd be okay.



It was a great run. I went 29 minutes without stopping. I was only supposed to go 20. But it was sunny and I couldn't resist. The back pain was something outta this world - that whole childbirth thing caused havoc - but who cares when you can go running.

Running last week
I have four kids - somewhere around here. It seems at any given moment I have a combination of three. It's great that I can stuff a jogger and three kids in the car, hitch two bikes to the back, and off we go to the park for a 2 plus mile loop. Everybody gets exercise. The next day was the same, just a new combination of kids. I love the park.



My run two days ago
I'm up to three miles - or supposed to be. I got ambitious and made out a training plan. I really wanted to run that marathon this summer, and believed I'd be ready. And maybe I would have been. But then I remembered that I have this little breastfed baby and it might be cruel to just assume that I can be gone for hours at a time at my own leisure and that he won't get hungry. Sure, I can run a 3-4 hour marathon, but what if I injure myself on the course and it takes me 6? So, I've adjusted to the idea of a fall marathon. Back to those three miles. I was supposed to go Sunday. Oops. So Monday came. Monday morning I had a piece of glass stuck in my foot. I'm not sure where from - I brought in a bike off of the porch on Sunday night - maybe something then - I dunno - no time to inspect it. So there's this glass, and my back was killing me - I tote this baby, who's growing like a weed, around all day and feed him every 2-3 hours in random precarious positions, so my back is really outta whack. I don't think I'd slept much the night before - I don't think he'd slept, so that usually means me too. I didn't want to go running. With this family of 6, two are up and gone to work and school and an early hour. I'm up next to feed one, waken the other two, feed the other two, dress one, encouraging dressing and lunchmaking, etc. By the time I've finally got two more off two school, I have a small window of opportunity before feeding time again.



Sometimes you have to force yourself to get out for your own good - I did run. (I took tweezers in the car, but never managed to get the glass out 'til later that night. Honestly, I just didn't have time.) I imagined my run in my head like one of those credit card commercials:



new mizuno tights for Christmas $70
shiny green i-pod $80
specialized nursing sports bra $75
Ironman BOB babyjogger $375



The opportunity to go run three miles? Priceless.



And to clarify . . . those tights are beautiful - I feel like they're too good for me and that I need to feel faster and fitter to wear them. All things in good time. The i-pod I have turned way down so I can hear the baby if he cries. The sports bra. I gotta say, I tried many a nursing bra, and hated them all. I finally went to a specialty store. I laughed at the idea of a nursing sports bra - like I'm gonna feed the baby while I'm running! But truths to be told: my friend designed it for the company, and it's comfortable and I really do need to feed the baby on the go after a run, and I don't have time to change clothes first. And the amazing BOB was a baby shower gift on Valentine's Day. I think everyone should take one for a test drive.



Now here I am - somehow a runner again - somehow a writer again. And somehow a mommy all over again. But I guess I've been them all along, it's just learning to adapt through change. It was sunny in Seattle today. I hope the sun shines down across the land.

The Story of Jack-Jack

Okay, okay, I'll post. I'm not sure I'm ready for the blog world yet, but I'll at least put this out there - my husband leaked the news so I'm getting requests for more info.

Have you ever seen the movie The Incredibles? This is Jack-Jack.

Now we have our own Jack-Jack.

Here he is - about 16 hours old - Jackson Ryan - born at 3:08 am, December 7th, and weighing in at 8 pounds 12 oz.

Until a week ago, this cute little girl was our youngest child. And even today, she still got up in the morning and wanted to climb into her daddy's lap and snuggle. She's seven, and wow does she seem like such a big girl all of a sudden when you see her holding her little brother, who was only about 6 hours old in this photo.

But there are details - oh so many. I'll sneak in a few, then I'll sneak in a nap - or two. At 36 weeks I had a dr. appt. 3 days later I was induced, because amniotic fluid was leaking. According to the nurse, you time labor for the amount of time you feel the contractions. The pitocin drip was started at 8:30 pm, but I didn't feel the contractions until 1:00am, and just after 3:00 am, out he came! So, pretty quick and painless. Okay, I complained a little. Maybe a lot. But he's beautiful and amazing and how can you complain when you have this new little life. It's amazing with each new child how much love you discover you have inside. All three of our girls are completely enamored of their new little brother and we're adjusting well. My husband and I are both exhausted - but we're a family of 6 - I guess that's to be expected.

Jackson came home Saturday, but a Sunday blood draw proved his bilirubin to be too high (jaundice). He was put on a double phototherapy light, which, by Monday, was increased to a triple light because the level kept climbing. The combination of the high bilirubin and weight loss (down to 8 lbs, 2 oz) threatened to put him back in the hospital on an IV, but thankfully yesterday he turned a corner - the level dropped and he gained weight - an ounce and a half. It's been frustrating because we're only supposed to take him off the phototherapy to feed and change him. One of the lights can be wrapped in a blanket without the bed, so we sneak in our share of snuggles, but it'll be exciting when it's over, and we can take him out to play and go christmas shopping. For now, we just call him the Glow Bug baby.

Other than looking like he has an infant suntan, he looks pretty content, don't you think? Can you imagine how big he would have been if I carried him to full term?

Now I just have to figure out how to get holiday shopping done, whether or not we can sneak over to the cabin (in our new 4-wheel drive vehicle that fits all of our family into it) to play in the snow for New Year's, and when, oh when, to I get to go for a run . . .

Cheers, and Happy Holidays!

Truths of my current life

• Until today, it's been over a month since I read anybody's blog or wrote one of my own. That sounds sorta like an AA meeting confession.
• I ate 4 chocolate chip cookies for snack this morning and felt guilty about the one I put back in lieu of a chewier looking one.
• I ran a 5k a week ago in 28:01. I think it's my slowest time ever. And I loved it.
• Our seven-year-old completed her first triathlon last month. She was hysterical at the water start and tried climbing up me as if I were a beanpole, to escape. Her big sister and I held her hands and waded through the water to the other shore. She never stopped screaming until she was out of the water. But you should've seen the smile on her fast as she sped down the hill on her bike, amidst all of the volunteers telling her to slow down. I wasn't sure she knew how - she just learned to ride a bike, and didn't know how to ride up the hills.
• I drove to four different libraries to pick up books yesterday, and went to the bookstore. I went to the same bookstore again today.
• The first week of school, the bus our 6th grader rides never showed up. She was nearly an hour late to school all week by the time I got her there.
• Our fourth-grader's class is going here on a field trip friday. The last time her older sister went on this trip with the same teacher, they were instructed to stop in the middle and stand silently to just listen and exist for a moment. Right then someone farted and it's always been our daughter's favorite part of the trip.
• I got no sleep last night. There was sporadic mysterious beeping from somewhere in my bedroom that kept waking me up. When I'd finallly get up to investigate, it would stop. Sometime around 4 am, I discovered it: my seven-year-old used my bathroom to brush her teeth last night, waaaaay overran the water, and let the sink fill up. It slowly drained all night, at times overloading the pipes. The leaky pipe dripped below into a basket of first aid supplies. As it dripped onto the digital thermometer, it caused it to go haywire. It's drying on the counter.
• I still have three more months to be pregnant. He already moves around all the time and I rarely get any rest. We still vacillate over name choices. December 13th would be a great day to have a baby, but it's not my due date.
• But yesterday I discovered I can cut my Tums intake in half because I bought papaya enzymes.
• I bought clipboards today for two of our kids to do homework in the car while I shuttle the third home through rush-hour traffic from the other side of the city after soccer practice.
• I fixed boxed mac&cheese for dinner last night. It was horrible. I'm going to Costco today to pick up some popcorn chicken for tonight's dinner. It might be horrible too.
• Our seven-year-old triathlete just started swimming lessons and loves them with a passion. Go figure. Did I mention the triathlon swim was in salt water?
• Our nine year old girl is having a birthday this Saturday. She has a soccer game. For her birthday she really wants a skateboard. Sunday she's taking her friends to play laser tag.
• Our dog brought all three of her new tennis balls out the kitchen at 7:00 this morning, one at a time, in hopes that someone would take her out to play fetch. She had no success.
• I just ate two more cookies, and I think I need a nap.

Ramble Time

Ramble time sounds like rumble time - what is that, big time wrestling or nascar? That's how my brain works when I'm pregnant. I can't think of anything and I'm totally dyslexic when it comes to typing.

So, my intent was a couple of topics. But . . . my 11-yr-old has taken to sitting here staring at me while I type, so I'm rather distracted. That's what it's like being a stay-at-home mom with kids at home all summer. I try to keep them occupied, but . . . We did go listen to a band downtown today - the Paperboys - they were pretty decent, and you can't beat free. We even went to a raptor program at the library and rode city buses. She's still sitting here staring at me, though. Now you understand if I haven't visited your blog lately, because I can filter mine while I type, but I can't necessarily filter anyone else's while I read with her sitting here.

So, I'm ready for summer to end. The weather has gotten cloudy. I live in Seattle, go figure. We're done with vacations for the most part. My husband finished his 6-month long training goal and completed a half ironman last weekend. It was truly inspirational. He had a great swim and a great bike, then had some back cramping/spasm issues that required him to walk the remainder of the run course in order to finish, and finish he still did. My youngest and I (and the dog) wandered around the corner, out about 200 meters from the finish line, where finishers couldn't see how close the finish was. It was fun to talk with (at) the people coming in and see the realization on their faces when they learned they were almost through with a half ironman. My husband didn't even seemed phased by what I thought would be physical exhaustion - we went back and continued camping when he was done. He spent no time contemplating what his next event will be. I think he's becoming an addict.

And then there's still this baby thing. I felt great for a month or so, now I'm starting to feel yucky again. C'est lavie. I did something interesting this morning. I checked out gender prediction using the chinese lunar calendar. I've done it before - checked it against our other kids, and thought it only got 2 out of 3. But I did it again. It factors in the mother's age at conception, and the month the baby was conceived. It predicts all three of our girls correctly. So I checked for this baby. The supposed conception date, according to the doctor, is the first week of April. Two different ultrasounds have dated the baby about 10 days older, giving it a supposed conception date of late March - but the doctor says the ultrasound people are always a week off. When you look at the prediction chart - conceived in April gives you a girl, conceived in March gives you a boy.

In order to have been savvy and figured out the gender before now, you would have needed only to view my husband's blog - he tells it straight out.

But there's another interesting side to my story - The Sound of Music. That's right - the movie. You have to have seen it some time in your life. Here I go on a long tangent . . .

For complicated reasons, my husband did not know his grandmother, Anna, until he was an adult. However we were fortunate to have several visits with her and hear her tell stories in her heavy german accent before she passed away. She and her husband lived during the holocaust in Germany. Her husband was a pilot in the german army. Anna was a concert pianist and even played for Hitler. They didn't agree with Hitler and his agenda. When she was supposed to cursty for him, she bowed instead. They had five children - 1 girl and 4 boys - the youngest being my husband's father. I don't know all the details of their heroic journey - but that they really did escape over the mountains. Anna, alone with all 5 children. (Her husband joined her in the United States at a later time.) She was nursing her youngest child and so was another woman on a train along their route. This other woman could no longer provide milk, and Anna helped feed the baby to keep it alive. There were other tales of favors to the german soldiers somewhere along the early parts of the trip to help get herself and her children to where they could be safe. She was an amazing lady - very strong-willed.

So, this family with five children made it to the United States, and the children grew up. Two of them got married, only one had children. Fast forward to today, and only one of those five children is still alive, and not in good health. But the one that had two children - there was a boy and girl. The female has had surgery and will never have children. The male - he's my husband. To date, we've had three girls. So, if you've been able to follow all that . . . you look at the family legacy of all of that - the challenges that were overcome climbing the alps and keeping children alive to give them a chance at a new life and the future - and the future of a family. And then if you're like my husband and me, and you look at old-fashioned traditions of carrying on the family name . . .

. . . it's sort of ironic that the ultrasound dating seems to be the correct one. Not only does it date the baby to have been conceived in March, but we saw some pretty good visuals of a baby boy inside there. There is that minute chance that it's wrong, but we're pretty sure, against all odds, that it's a BOY!

And now, my three girls brought the dollhouse and ALL of its accessories out into the living room and it's time for me to provide afternoon snack, consider dinner plans, fold laundry, and fall asleep on the couch by 7:00.

it's all because i used my voice

I don't often give myself priority in my world. I'm a stay-at-home mom with three (plus) kids. I'm not saying it's the right thing to do - lack of priority. It's just what happens. I get so busy meeting the needs of little munchkins that I give myself a back seat, and if there isn't time left over, so be it. It's usually when I get cranky and resentful that I get reminded that I need to do something for me - take care of me - give myself that priority. So when I haven't been running these last three and a half months (yes, I've been counting - there has been one day since April 16th), I seem to have even less of 'something' for me. Then you couple that with pregnancy and not feeling good and having to take care of the creature in my belly - I just get completely overwhelmed. But instead of getting resentful and cranky - after all, I really do get to play a lot, who could get mad about that - I used my voice, and told my husband something that I wanted for me.

Whew! I could've said all that in one sentence.

I was lying down last night in a dark room, writhing in pain with a headache - a bad one that pregnancy and sunny summer days with a glare on the water don't seem to help. My husband was doing some work on the computer in the other room. I randomly called out, "Can I do a race next month?" And really, instead of immediately responding with a clear answer, five minutes later he was asking what shirt size I wanted while he was finishing up registration online. And there you have it. I laid there, dumbfounded, and told him how many days I have to train. He tried to convince my that it's a short one, and that I could do it in my sleep, but although I'd like to think that I can, it's not gonna be so easy.

Today he woke me up at sunrise and somehow got me out the door. This is the pregnant mommy who's been sleeping in 'til 9:00, now getting out at 6:00. I can't believe I've been missing all of those summer sunrises. It was beautiful out and I got in two miles. I could lie to you and tell you that I went for a run, did even tempo, hillwork, and had some competition. The reality? I actually walked the entire two miles, my tempo was precisely even - 16 minute pace, there was a hill on the way home from the track, and I tried to speed up when the guy running laps went past me. But it was great to be out there. I think I might need a girdle or something for my ever-expading stomach and my running shorts are a little tight. Oh, well. If I have to walk that whole race next month, so be it.

So, I learned to use my voice and say what I wanted for me. I forgot that my husband always listens. I also learned this morning that part of that voice is wrapped up in my running (or walking). It's that time when all of my thoughts and intentions are for me. And when I write in my blog, it's all of my thoughts and intentions that come out and that's a good thing. It's priority for me. And really, the reason I'm currently getting that writing time is because all of my little computer users are still asleep. The early bird catches the worm, you know.

And . . . we found out what sex the baby is. But that's incentive for a whole other blog post. Unless you're savvy and you figure out how to cheat and get the information sooner. :)

Learning

I'm always amazed at how much fun can be packed into summertime in the Northwest. We've picked berries, wriggled our toes in the sand at low tide, gone camping, and been for a dip in the lake and in the river. We've seen outdoor theatre in the park, listened to summer concerts downtown, been to the library and read many books. We've taken the kids hiking, bike riding, horseback riding, swimming . . we've been to triathlons, street festivals, tea parties, played with friends . . .

. . . and there's still so much more of the season to be lived. We had a picnic dinner tonight for my birthday and went for a beautiful walk along the bluffs above Puget Sound. (My birthday is actually this weekend, but we're headed out of town for a triathlon, so I get an extended celebration :)

A couple of really cool things have happened recently. Our 6-yr-old, the youngest of three girls, has always been our 'baby'. But she's growing up. Her timing couldn't be better, either, with a new sibling coming along. She's learning all kinds of things that are giving her huge confidence. This spring she took off in reading and is now really into chapter books. While we were camping a couple of weeks ago, she learned to get over her fear of water. She isn't lap swimming yet, but she is having a lot more fun at the beach. Last summer we tried to get her bike riding, but she didn't show a lot of interest. So we tried again this week. It took some diligence on our part, but she was sooo excited to finally 'get it' and be able to ride with her sisters. The very same day she learned a very different skill. She's always been talented when it comes to art - really takes us by surprise. This new piece left us in true amazement:

Yep. The back of our PT Cruiser, nicely done is white on navy rock scratch. The clean slate before it was etched upon used to look more like this:

She thought it would rub off like when you write in the dust with your finger. No such luck. For comic relief, we've come up with many things she could have etched on instead of a smiley face. I guess we got lucky. We have a nice message to display to all those people who drive on the road behind us. Her birthday is next month. Instead of some colored pencils and paper, or some new paints and white canvas, we were thinking . . . maybe we'll just head over to the junkyard and buy her a door with a sharp rock collection to go with it.

(Ironically, the car has a dead battery. It happens. It's a car. Grown-ups understand this. ) When the child was confronted and asked why she would do such a thing to the car, she responded, "But the battery is dead, I didn't think you wanted it anymore." A true child of the new millenium - if the batteries don't work, it has no worth. Perhaps we'll do some learning on rechargeable batteries.

"From wonder into wonder, existence opens." - Lao Tzu

Life is a road map.

It's a big broad picture with shapes and lines and colors. Sometimes it has a key to decipher it, sometimes you're on your own. Whatever happens, you find yourself travelling down a road. It might be a many-laned freeway with frequent travellers all headed in the same direction. Maybe you end up on a dusty, bumpy, country lane with no signs and not an intersection in sight. Sometimes your sense of direction carries you to the destination you had in mind. Other times you feel lost amidst a myriad of intersections in a busy city. You can make frequent stops at the greenspace labeled, 'park', or many passes along the lakeshore to admire the view. Days can go by sitting in rush hour traffic in the smog with cranky drivers honking horns and flipping you off. Half the time there you struggle to get off on the exit you want. Better days might be driving through town to clearly marked stops. You can pause at the stoplights and watch the people and life pass by. The speed doesn't seem so rushed and hurried. I think some people choose to drive the same routes over and over; it's comfortable, familiar, predictable. Others like a little variety - a new scene, and choose new roads, often wondering where they'll lead. It's a little risky sometimes - you might get lost - but there's that chance that you'll discover something new and exciting along the way. Even though you might miss out on something new, there's something to be said of driving down the road you've been on a million times, those days with a sunny sky, the windows rolled down, and old music on the radio.

Funny thing . . . you're rarely the only one out there on the road. There are a lot of different road maps, but it's amazing how much they overlap and where they intersect. The other drivers on the road can make a big difference in how you experience the drive. Sometimes it's as if you're all pushing the speed limit in a pack on a long road trip, other times it's just the slow truck on a one-lane highway that forces you to slow down when you can't pass. It seems we all initially pull out the road map, figure out where we want to go, and head on down the road. But where we truly end up or where we spend our journey is anyone's guess. We pass each other and often leapfrog our stops. One road leads to another and the course becomes ever-changing.

I'm fascinated by maps. There's no concrete beginning or end to any trip, but I'm always up for the ride. It's amazing what you see when you look out the window and make frequent stops.

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Here's a profile of the little face growing inside of me - early photos for the family album. This was taken the third or fourth week of June. I'll have another ultrasound at the end of July to check and see how the baby's doing. We don't know yet if it's a boy or a girl, but already have names picked out for either. Hopefully we'll be able to find out in a few weeks if we're adding a fourth girl to our collection . . . or if it's a boy and we'll need to get a new rule book.

Rodents of the Skies

I learned something about myself this last week. I don't laugh often enough. I've thought about it lately - I'm a pretty intense person emotionally. I need to remember to loosen up more often and have fun. I'm a planner, a worrier, meticulous about detail. I think what finally clinched the whole needing to laugh thing more, was actually having several moments of it - day after day, and realizing how much fun it was - laughing, I mean. After driving across the state and camping in 95 degree weather with the kids . . . there really wasn't a whole lot to do there. We - on a rare occasion - didn't overplan with sights to see and activities galore. It was even too hot to play frisbee. There was a swimming hole, but you can't stay in there all day. So - hot and irritable to an extent, the kids didn't fall asleep until after 11:00. But my husband and I were awakened around 4:30 (to a gorgeous sunrise that I have no regrets about being up to see) by the squawking. Yes, the lovely squawking of the crows. If crows don't live in your neck of the woods, then you simply must consider the title of my post to understand. I mean - you're out in the wilderness - camping in the middle of nowhere - hot as hell and desert-like, but beautiful - and you're awakened by scavengers with scratchy voices. I think there is some Native American story about how the crow lost it's singing voice. If there isn't, there really ought to be.

So, admiring the colors of the morning sun . . against the contrast of the loud annoying birds, with tired jollies from lack of sleep and another hot day ahead of us, my husband and I started mimicking the birds - inserting words with what they might be saying to one another - and we just started cracking up and I couldn't stop. Then a looooong freight train rolled by - aways away, but quite audible. One of the kids sat straight up in bed from a dead sleep, watched the train intently, then laid back down and went back to sleep. The next child, out of the blue, and an assumed sleep, called out, "Are those stinkin' birds?!" All the more fodder for my inability to stop laughing before 5 in the morning.

I had another such unstoppable laughter episode involving mayonnaise and trying to make sandwiches on a beach towel under a tree in the shade. I greatly dislike mayonnaise, and that's all I'm gonna say about that story.

Camping was a blast though, it always is. Before our trip, we did something different this year for the fourth of July holiday and took the kids hiking. We went around the back side of Mount Rainier - checked with the ranger about the trail and everything. Should've been a great 4-mile hike with the kids - excellent views and not too much elevation gain. It was beautiful and warm and sunny - but the ranger never said anything about the snow. We spent two hours trying to connect the dots with the trail that was covered about 95% in snowfields. The kids finally lost the feelings of nervousness and frustration and sledded and skiied down the hills. It was really a beautiful hike . . . Mt. Rainier is one of those things in life that humbles you and puts life in perspective.

PS. I added a photo of Clint to my last post

Time

Where does the time go? I can't believe how long it's been since I've written a blog or surfed on others. At first it was a fatigue thing from pregnancy - combined with a lack of running and a feeling like I had nothing to say if it wasn't relavent to running. Then I was gone. Gone, gone, gone. I could spend days reminiscing - and write pages and pages - so many memories. Sometimes I wish I could bottle it all up and send it out to sea. Someday someone could read about the beauty I've seen and how seeing the great big world out there somehow gives me a sense of inner peace. I know, it sounds sappy - but I almost starting crying once when I was out there - it was just so amazing.

I've gotta apologize for being AWOL - I didn't realize how it may seem when I'm pregnant and then I suddenly stopped communicating. I finally had enough comments and emails from friends to let me know how it appeared. Everything baby is 'so far, so good'. I've had a few ultrasounds and have photos of a beautiful little face with no name. I have another dr. appt. today. My due date keeps changing - sometime in December. We're still not naming the baby Boston.

Where, oh where, did I go on vacation? Two trips were chaperoning kids school camping trips - one in cabins and one in tents. The highlights: within 48 hours, standing at the tip of the contiguous United States (Cape Flattery in Neah Bay) and looking out at Tatoosh Island - to being amidst the Olympic Mountains at an elevation of 5230 ft - to hiking through mossy old growth rain forest - to chasing Dungeness Crabs at a saltwater beach at sea level. And waking up oh so early in the campground to the sound of the birds, and taking a walk with the neon pink sunrise reflecting over Sequim Bay.

The third trip was Grandma Camp. I am in awe of my mother. This was her third annual camp with all seven of her grandchildren. As a grown-up, we're free to hang out at the cabin and participate - but also free to play and have our own mini-vacation while we're there. She does intense crafty activities with the kids - concrete leaf print bird baths, watercolor painting . . glass plate art, she takes the kids into town to the candy store and out for ice-cream and swimming at the lake, she roasts marshmallows and popcorn over the fire - she cooks pancakes in the morning. They took walks and did some community service pulling an invasive plant down by the river. She surprised the kids and took them on a horseback riding adventure out a trail to a clearing where they were provided a catered breakfast feast. All the other five adults in attendance also rode horses. I, the pregnant mommy, hitched a different ride to breakfast. I was able to capture photos of the delight on my children's faces as they mounted horses, then was whisked away.

My ride was some cross between an outback wagon ride and feeling like Cinderella in her carriage. An older gentleman named Clint - a weathered sort of cowboy - was my driver. Bob & Wishem pulled the wagon. Before we left, I had a little bit of time to talk to Clint . . . get a feel for his pace of life and meet the horses. But once we started moving, we were both silent for the 45 minute ride out and also on the ride back. This was the part of vacation where my emotions took over inside me. The trail wound around Sun Mountain in eastern Washington, with the Methow Valley below and glimpses of Lake Patterson glittering in the morning sun. We rode through hillsides ablaze in sprays of wildflowers - most specifically the sunny yellow balsam root leftover from springtime. The light breezes blew through the aspen trees, almost twinkling like christmas lights. We road along quietly, listening to the wind and the horses hooves and the wagon wheels over the ruts. Every so often Clint would point out a grazing deer, or grouse crossing the trail. Big yellow butterflies would zigzag through the air around the wagon. There was just something about the sights, the sounds, the smells . . . the fresh air . . . that was just astounding - wondrous in its own right. Arriving early at the meadow where breakfast was served, I had time to talk with the chef - outback chef by summer, telemark skiier by winter - what a life. I nearly stepped on a gopher snake as it slithered past my feet into the nearby rock pile. They aren't poisonous, but at quick glance look very similar to a northern pacific rattlesnake. It was one of those moments in life when you don't know how you'll react - I sorta stared at it and watched it go by.
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It's funny what people pull from a text and focus on. Clint seemed to attract attention, so I thought I'd edit the post and add a photo of him. I hope seeing him in photograph after reading the fine print, isn't like spoiling a good book by watching a movie. He just seemed to earn a small tribute of sorts, so here he is.

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Now my kids are out of school on summer break for two months. Novice piano music fills the air at home. My youngest woke up this morning and told me she had a dream that she was a native american (she is not) hunting bison, but that then she saw some deer and went over to pet them and wanted to ride them. What a crack-up. I have a full summer schedule ahead - to include lots of sand, music, sun, beach days, walks in the woods, good books and great friends. Maybe I'll go for a run. I'll have to journal it all in my blog. I miss writing, and it's gonna take me eons to read through all the other blogs I've missed. I'll get there. It's summer, and all I have is time.