Today we have watched more sports on TV than we have watched over the entire last year. (Occasional visitors take note, we have acquired a t e l e v i s i o n . We hear it's all the rage.)
Tennis in the morning.
Rugby in the afternoon.
Hockey this evening.
During a break, Jbird went out to practice his own new sporty skill: riding without training wheels. He was busy studying the big kids at the park and pondering the mechanics of a wheelie.
While watching the Stanley Cup playoffs:
n: "there sure are a lot of *itches on this."
smith: "excuse me?!?"
n: "there sure are a lot of *itches playing."
smith: "what?!"
n: "there are a lot of *itches playing hockey. Tomavich, Orescovich. There's a lot of vitches."
Go Canucks!
Showing posts with label Milestone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Milestone. Show all posts
Saturday, June 04, 2011
Friday, January 14, 2011
We said good-bye to Goldentail today.
Goldentail, our fish, succumbed to ick this morning.
It is the first pet the children remember dying. It is the fish we expected to die months and months ago. Nbear "won" him at the rodeo. We brought him (and we'll just go with a him just to be easy) home in a tiny plastic bowl, and I expected him to die. After all, how long had he been sitting outside in this plastic bowl as a potential carnival prize? Seriously, it could not be a long-living fish.
So I borrowed a bowl from a friend to lessen our investment into something that may not be around for very long. He was named Goldentail, from the naming conventions of a beloved series of Cat Warrior books. Goldentail hung out on the coffee table, flitting about with the company of a snail. Still he survived.
Our petsitting needs now involved a friend coming inside the house, just to feed Goldentail, while we were gone. Our other fish, Doraguy (rhymes with Dorothy) thrives on neglect and doesn't need to be fed so often.
During my span of knee injury and subsequent surgery, I spent a lot of time with my leg propped up on the sofa with Goldentail as my "companion." I had been become used to Doraguy. She is a master of hovering, floating, studying the plants and then gracefully and pointedly moving on to the other side of the bowl. Goldentail flitted about from top to bottom, side to side with such speed and regularity it made me dizzy. SPASTIC! And all while gulp gulp gulping around for air, breathing. But still he survived.
It was during my recovery that I realized that we'd had Goldentail for quite a while in that borrowed bowl, perhaps it was time to upgrade to a real tank with more space and an air bubbler thingee. A perfect Christmas gift!
Of course our story takes a turn here, for in our enthusiasm for having a "fish tank" vs. one fish in a bowl, we brought home some guppies to liven things up a bit. I think they brought the ICK with them.
So today Goldentail (and the guppies) were buried outside next to the fish pond and the passion vine. And our children are very saddened by it. It is never easy.
It is the first pet the children remember dying. It is the fish we expected to die months and months ago. Nbear "won" him at the rodeo. We brought him (and we'll just go with a him just to be easy) home in a tiny plastic bowl, and I expected him to die. After all, how long had he been sitting outside in this plastic bowl as a potential carnival prize? Seriously, it could not be a long-living fish.
So I borrowed a bowl from a friend to lessen our investment into something that may not be around for very long. He was named Goldentail, from the naming conventions of a beloved series of Cat Warrior books. Goldentail hung out on the coffee table, flitting about with the company of a snail. Still he survived.
Our petsitting needs now involved a friend coming inside the house, just to feed Goldentail, while we were gone. Our other fish, Doraguy (rhymes with Dorothy) thrives on neglect and doesn't need to be fed so often.
During my span of knee injury and subsequent surgery, I spent a lot of time with my leg propped up on the sofa with Goldentail as my "companion." I had been become used to Doraguy. She is a master of hovering, floating, studying the plants and then gracefully and pointedly moving on to the other side of the bowl. Goldentail flitted about from top to bottom, side to side with such speed and regularity it made me dizzy. SPASTIC! And all while gulp gulp gulping around for air, breathing. But still he survived.
It was during my recovery that I realized that we'd had Goldentail for quite a while in that borrowed bowl, perhaps it was time to upgrade to a real tank with more space and an air bubbler thingee. A perfect Christmas gift!
Of course our story takes a turn here, for in our enthusiasm for having a "fish tank" vs. one fish in a bowl, we brought home some guppies to liven things up a bit. I think they brought the ICK with them.
So today Goldentail (and the guppies) were buried outside next to the fish pond and the passion vine. And our children are very saddened by it. It is never easy.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Coming Soon!
The full trip wrap up!
In the meantime we are in the midst of lovely back-to-schoolness. (It's not all at once for us. Jbird started first, but not for the full day yet. Nbear started on Thursday. Both will be full-on students this coming Wednesday. The annual Back To School Complete Floor Mopping is right around the corner.)
*****************************************
But first, I must report an important milestone of my own. I've lived in Austin off-and-on for 20 years now and I've never been to the quintessential cowboy-hat and boot wearing honky tonk: The Broken Spoke. Last night I lost my 2-stepping virginity. Smith and I are both equally skilled (ahem) at dancing so we took the lessons and continued to count out "quick-quick-quick-slow-slow" all night. This was to the confusion of one unnamed dance partner who only did ONE slow step. (She was leading, who was I to argue?) But then Dale Watson started singing a song of the same title. We were quick-quick-quick-slow-slowing for a good while. Smith and I also learned some fancy twirls, and we are still working on those. Smith needs to tone down his akaido-I'm-going-to-flip-you-on-the-mat grip though. And I need to stop leading. Also a note for the newbies: don't hit the floor right after they sand it.
Thanks to Sinda for the loan of the boots. She's so addicted to the toe slide she's got 2 pairs.
In the meantime we are in the midst of lovely back-to-schoolness. (It's not all at once for us. Jbird started first, but not for the full day yet. Nbear started on Thursday. Both will be full-on students this coming Wednesday. The annual Back To School Complete Floor Mopping is right around the corner.)
*****************************************
But first, I must report an important milestone of my own. I've lived in Austin off-and-on for 20 years now and I've never been to the quintessential cowboy-hat and boot wearing honky tonk: The Broken Spoke. Last night I lost my 2-stepping virginity. Smith and I are both equally skilled (ahem) at dancing so we took the lessons and continued to count out "quick-quick-quick-slow-slow" all night. This was to the confusion of one unnamed dance partner who only did ONE slow step. (She was leading, who was I to argue?) But then Dale Watson started singing a song of the same title. We were quick-quick-quick-slow-slowing for a good while. Smith and I also learned some fancy twirls, and we are still working on those. Smith needs to tone down his akaido-I'm-going-to-flip-you-on-the-mat grip though. And I need to stop leading. Also a note for the newbies: don't hit the floor right after they sand it.
Monday, May 10, 2010
April. In Photo Collage Format.
My desire to post weekly has been usurped by busyness.
First and foremost was the boy's camping trip. As in, no girls allowed. For a splendid 3 days/2 nights I had the most spectacular time all by myself. I was responsible for only myself, cleaning up (or not) after only one person. No schedule. Whatever I felt like doing. And I felt like going out and eating sushi and watching Hot Tub Time Machine. And I felt like doing a boatload of homework (part of my busy-ness has been taking web design classes. I've succumbed to the dark side.) And then I felt like going to a friend's party, but never got there. Instead I stopped by his house and scared him. Probably the only time I'll ever be able to say that. We stayed up late talking about horror movies. yippee. it was splendid.
This was what was happening with the boys:
Then came Nbear's dance debut. His class has been learning the fast moving styles of Bollywood dancing, courtesy of another parent, and had been invited to dance at the Dragon Boat Festival.
Then there was Nbear's piano recital.
Goofing off afterwards.
Posing with the maestro(a?)
Baba & Grandpa came up that weekend for all of the nbear festivities and we helped Baba celebrate one of her own: a birthday! We stuffed ourselves silly at brunch and then at the end of our busy day we had cake and the customary candle licking (does everybody do that?) Happy Birthday Baba!
First and foremost was the boy's camping trip. As in, no girls allowed. For a splendid 3 days/2 nights I had the most spectacular time all by myself. I was responsible for only myself, cleaning up (or not) after only one person. No schedule. Whatever I felt like doing. And I felt like going out and eating sushi and watching Hot Tub Time Machine. And I felt like doing a boatload of homework (part of my busy-ness has been taking web design classes. I've succumbed to the dark side.) And then I felt like going to a friend's party, but never got there. Instead I stopped by his house and scared him. Probably the only time I'll ever be able to say that. We stayed up late talking about horror movies. yippee. it was splendid.
This was what was happening with the boys:
Then came Nbear's dance debut. His class has been learning the fast moving styles of Bollywood dancing, courtesy of another parent, and had been invited to dance at the Dragon Boat Festival.
Then there was Nbear's piano recital.
Goofing off afterwards.
Posing with the maestro(a?)
Baba & Grandpa came up that weekend for all of the nbear festivities and we helped Baba celebrate one of her own: a birthday! We stuffed ourselves silly at brunch and then at the end of our busy day we had cake and the customary candle licking (does everybody do that?) Happy Birthday Baba!
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Summer of '09 Roundup
Since a few days of rain has transformed us into a spring/fall feeling (green grass out all of a sudden/cool temps and windows open) it is the perfect time to reflect on our summer, aka our "Minnesota winter" (we hole up inside because it is TOO HOT outside.) Who would have thought I'd be HAPPY to see 90 degrees?! Bring out the courderoy!
[Pour yourself a Pimm's Cup, this is a long one.]
Just as my momentous triathlon was complete, thus began my next adventure of having company! Yeah! My cousin D is one of my first cousins (I only have 2) amidst the array of significantly older second and third and once removed cousins that I am blessed with. Sadly, I have no good pictures of D to slide in here for good measure, but know that we swam in Barton Springs, ate bbq, went to our most famous state attraction.
Some were impressed with this:
notice the proud arm draped on the cold metal.
After we sent D back to his moderate-temperature locale, which is utterly lacking in BBQ, we got ready for the Cool House Tour. There was one project that Smith and I wanted to have done before the tour, but it just so happened to be the one thing that we could never agree on. We had been back and forth for the last year about the backsplash for our kitchen. I don't know how we ever agreed on this:
But we did.
Midway through the installation, I realized why the tile looked so familiar: it is the exact same pattern and color from the kitchen backsplash at my grandma's house. Ours is glass tile, while hers was ceramic.
And so we are cruising along to tour day and I think I have everything under control when Smith drops a comment while we are brushing our teeth:
"By the way, I think John Dromgoole will be here tomorrow morning around 8 or so to shoot a segment in our garden for some tour promotion."
spit.
gasp.
choke.
John?
yes.
Dromgoole?
yes.
tomorrow at our house?
yes. he liked the look of our raised beds.
For all of ya'll not from around here, John Dromgoole has what I fondly refer to as garden mecca. He is the go-to guy for organic gardening know-how, products, and all things growing. It's HIS dirt in my beds. It's HIS mulch all over my house. Most of the landscaping plants were from HIS store. And he was going to be at my house. And I hadn't weeded yet (today), because I've been dealing with this weed:
[From my "Texas Gardening The Natural Way," by Howard Garrett:
Nutgrass... There's only one guaranteed way to control nutgrass: Remove all the plants and nutlets by sifting the soil through wire mesh. Put this material in the driveway, soak with kerosene and burn to ash. Put the ash in a sealed concrete container, take it to the coast, ship 200 miles offshore, and dump in the ocean. No other techniques I know will work...]
It's as if Martha was at my house for dinner and I hadn't bothered to vacuum.
He was very nice. And he didn't know what else to do with the nutgrass either.
The tour itself was fine, if not exhausting. I think we had over 700 people in our house, and they were all very very nice. They were curious and asked lots of questions. It's like a pop quiz at times...
Why is there a window here?
How many eggs do you get from your chickens?
How does the solar affect your electric bills?
So how many square feet of bookshelves do you have?
I had to refer him to Smith for that, and he had an answer.
So with it being so unbearably outside, what did we do inside?
We tried to grow tadpoles into toads. Our creek had an abundance of tadpoles and the boys gathered them for rearing. Out of 10, only 1 was released into the wild.
we had fancy sandwiches
a tape project
playmobil! pirates! arrr! sushi?
- let's find some saltier salmon eggs!
- yeah, and crunchy seaweed to wrap around them!
- we have plenty of seaweed, now let's suck up those eggs!
- can you hear me captain?!
piano in pajamas
another instrument...
Smith worked.
made martianmallows
they were wonderfully fun to make! and beautiful! and tasted like. well. Nbear just had one. We built things with the rest before we tossed them.
Took apart a rotary dial telephone
Hey - we made it OUT of the house, all the way to Houston for my 20th high school reunion. which rocked. Here's me avoiding the camera for the "prom-style" photo.
And summer also sees a birthday or two.
Here's the cake of my 4 year old.
And the 40 year old. We even got to reuse the 4. The "0" we had to be a little more creative with.
the greatest show on earth! in glorious black. and white.
It was the boys first circus and they LOVED it. Also the first taste of cotton candy. They had seen it for sale in the grocery store (how wrong is that!) I told them it had to be eaten either a) at a circus b) outside at a fair.
And ah. the First Day of School.
and so far, they are still smiling.
[Pour yourself a Pimm's Cup, this is a long one.]
Just as my momentous triathlon was complete, thus began my next adventure of having company! Yeah! My cousin D is one of my first cousins (I only have 2) amidst the array of significantly older second and third and once removed cousins that I am blessed with. Sadly, I have no good pictures of D to slide in here for good measure, but know that we swam in Barton Springs, ate bbq, went to our most famous state attraction.
Some were impressed with this:
notice the proud arm draped on the cold metal.
After we sent D back to his moderate-temperature locale, which is utterly lacking in BBQ, we got ready for the Cool House Tour. There was one project that Smith and I wanted to have done before the tour, but it just so happened to be the one thing that we could never agree on. We had been back and forth for the last year about the backsplash for our kitchen. I don't know how we ever agreed on this:
But we did.
Midway through the installation, I realized why the tile looked so familiar: it is the exact same pattern and color from the kitchen backsplash at my grandma's house. Ours is glass tile, while hers was ceramic.
And so we are cruising along to tour day and I think I have everything under control when Smith drops a comment while we are brushing our teeth:
"By the way, I think John Dromgoole will be here tomorrow morning around 8 or so to shoot a segment in our garden for some tour promotion."
spit.
gasp.
choke.
John?
yes.
Dromgoole?
yes.
tomorrow at our house?
yes. he liked the look of our raised beds.
For all of ya'll not from around here, John Dromgoole has what I fondly refer to as garden mecca. He is the go-to guy for organic gardening know-how, products, and all things growing. It's HIS dirt in my beds. It's HIS mulch all over my house. Most of the landscaping plants were from HIS store. And he was going to be at my house. And I hadn't weeded yet (today), because I've been dealing with this weed:
[From my "Texas Gardening The Natural Way," by Howard Garrett:
Nutgrass... There's only one guaranteed way to control nutgrass: Remove all the plants and nutlets by sifting the soil through wire mesh. Put this material in the driveway, soak with kerosene and burn to ash. Put the ash in a sealed concrete container, take it to the coast, ship 200 miles offshore, and dump in the ocean. No other techniques I know will work...]
It's as if Martha was at my house for dinner and I hadn't bothered to vacuum.
He was very nice. And he didn't know what else to do with the nutgrass either.
The tour itself was fine, if not exhausting. I think we had over 700 people in our house, and they were all very very nice. They were curious and asked lots of questions. It's like a pop quiz at times...
Why is there a window here?
How many eggs do you get from your chickens?
How does the solar affect your electric bills?
So how many square feet of bookshelves do you have?
I had to refer him to Smith for that, and he had an answer.
So with it being so unbearably outside, what did we do inside?
We tried to grow tadpoles into toads. Our creek had an abundance of tadpoles and the boys gathered them for rearing. Out of 10, only 1 was released into the wild.
we had fancy sandwiches
a tape project
playmobil! pirates! arrr! sushi?
- let's find some saltier salmon eggs!
- yeah, and crunchy seaweed to wrap around them!
- we have plenty of seaweed, now let's suck up those eggs!
- can you hear me captain?!
piano in pajamas
another instrument...
Smith worked.
made martianmallows
they were wonderfully fun to make! and beautiful! and tasted like. well. Nbear just had one. We built things with the rest before we tossed them.
Took apart a rotary dial telephone
Hey - we made it OUT of the house, all the way to Houston for my 20th high school reunion. which rocked. Here's me avoiding the camera for the "prom-style" photo.
And summer also sees a birthday or two.
Here's the cake of my 4 year old.
And the 40 year old. We even got to reuse the 4. The "0" we had to be a little more creative with.
the greatest show on earth! in glorious black. and white.
It was the boys first circus and they LOVED it. Also the first taste of cotton candy. They had seen it for sale in the grocery store (how wrong is that!) I told them it had to be eaten either a) at a circus b) outside at a fair.
And ah. the First Day of School.
and so far, they are still smiling.
Sunday, August 02, 2009
Swimsuits/Spa/Shower/Sling: my weekend in 4 words
Through a strange twist of schedule, I found myself in the car, alone, heading to Houston for a total of 24 hours.
"Six hours alone in a car, with air conditioning and complete control over a CD player? That's like going to the spa!" comments my friend with a 3 year old and a newborn and envy in her eyes.
My dear friend Amy is about to have her own baby and it was time to shower her with gifts. So off I went to attend to the showering, compete with quiche! petit fours! and then some sort of cookie ball that's right up my alley with ground up nilla wafers and lime juice.
Before leaving town I needed to get N a new swimsuit (just one last errand!) The one from last year finally gave up the ghost when his leg popped through where it shouldn't. How hard should it be to find a swimsuit in Texas on the first day of August? Ha. she laughs.
Store #1: NO SUITS LEFT. only backpacks and long sleeve polo shirts.
Store #2: Only cheap cheap cheap movie spinoff grossness available.
Store #3. NOTHING. (but frantic looking back to school shoppers in abundance.)
Store #4: ONE suit left! his size! not heinous!
I'm off! Near about Brenheim, I've got the music blaring and I'm singing at the top of my lungs, nary a care, and my phone rings.
"Do we still have a copy of the kids' insurance cards at home?" says a voice that needs no caller id.
Sigh. This was exactly the type of call that you shouldn't take while driving.
So the kids were splashing on a waterslide at a friend's house and somehow Jbird got tangled up with some big kids going down. Thankfully, he landed on TOP of the heap, but it still B R O K E his collarbone. ouch!
He is mostly fine. Sore. Arm in a sling. It will take some time to heal.
At dinner tonight we noted that neither Smith nor I have ever broken a bone in our bodies (knock on internet wood) and yet BOTH of our children have each broken a bone already. I told them they must have the Uncle Tommy gene. And then I made them guess what part of my brother's body got hurt racing a bike. (you readers at home can play too.)
Bodily injury aside, it was a lovely trip. I was struck by the stillness of time. The quiet to complete my thoughts, (even if those thoughts were nothing greater than "Men In Black" or "Boston Legal.") It did me a world of good.
"Six hours alone in a car, with air conditioning and complete control over a CD player? That's like going to the spa!" comments my friend with a 3 year old and a newborn and envy in her eyes.
My dear friend Amy is about to have her own baby and it was time to shower her with gifts. So off I went to attend to the showering, compete with quiche! petit fours! and then some sort of cookie ball that's right up my alley with ground up nilla wafers and lime juice.
Before leaving town I needed to get N a new swimsuit (just one last errand!) The one from last year finally gave up the ghost when his leg popped through where it shouldn't. How hard should it be to find a swimsuit in Texas on the first day of August? Ha. she laughs.
Store #1: NO SUITS LEFT. only backpacks and long sleeve polo shirts.
Store #2: Only cheap cheap cheap movie spinoff grossness available.
Store #3. NOTHING. (but frantic looking back to school shoppers in abundance.)
Store #4: ONE suit left! his size! not heinous!
I'm off! Near about Brenheim, I've got the music blaring and I'm singing at the top of my lungs, nary a care, and my phone rings.
"Do we still have a copy of the kids' insurance cards at home?" says a voice that needs no caller id.
Sigh. This was exactly the type of call that you shouldn't take while driving.
So the kids were splashing on a waterslide at a friend's house and somehow Jbird got tangled up with some big kids going down. Thankfully, he landed on TOP of the heap, but it still B R O K E his collarbone. ouch!
He is mostly fine. Sore. Arm in a sling. It will take some time to heal.
At dinner tonight we noted that neither Smith nor I have ever broken a bone in our bodies (knock on internet wood) and yet BOTH of our children have each broken a bone already. I told them they must have the Uncle Tommy gene. And then I made them guess what part of my brother's body got hurt racing a bike. (you readers at home can play too.)
Bodily injury aside, it was a lovely trip. I was struck by the stillness of time. The quiet to complete my thoughts, (even if those thoughts were nothing greater than "Men In Black" or "Boston Legal.") It did me a world of good.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
End of Year BLURRRR - The Kudos
There are Kudos all around at our casa, and some have the trophies to prove it. (me? I have a medal, but no one will tolerate me wearing it. sigh.)
The end of the school year had a piano recital. I swear there was much more enthusiasm displayed during the recital. He was confidant and eager to play.
Then there was the culmination of an entire season of 'black tiger' growling. Not much of a growl here, but you can just imagine it at every game.
the action shot!
Our youngest got to jump around at places other than his bed and the sofa.
He is also an expert head stander, which he also practices on the sofa, yelling at me to "get off the ceiling mom!"
And then there was me. I did it! My goal was to finish the Danskin triathlon without dying. I admit, not a lofty goal, but mine nonetheless. Don't I look all fierce here?
I'm looking a lot less fierce at the here, just red-faced and sweaty, but hey! notice the not dying!
I started the whole event nervous, apprehensive and overwhelmed. There were TONS of people. Where is the buoy I'm supposed to swim out to? Am I standing with the right group to get started? Did my family make it here yet? Do I see anybody I know? Are my goggles gonna leak? Will these new shorts work for the swim and the bike? Look at how many cancer survivors are here today, how can I be fretting about goggles and shorts when others have made it through so much more?
I was alone in a swarm of people, all preparing to do something amazing. It was a little emotional.
And then I swam. It was a good swim. I don't think I ever got a good sightline of the buoy I was supposed to swim to, but I followed the herd enough to get there. It's hard to swim with so many people all around you, on top of you, under you, but I managed. In the pool, I can swim the half mile in 15 minutes easily. With the swarm I finished in 20. I emerged in great spirits to get ready to ride - still scanning the crowd for anyone who might be there to cheer me on -- and YES! there was Jesse! Can't even describe the boost I got just from seeing the glimpse of his face and hearing him cheer. It was awesome.
And then I had to pee. Which seemed to take forever and a day (and with a timing chip strapped to my ankle I know just how long forever and a day really was - 6 minutes.)
F i n a l l y on the bike I pass my family on the way to the event -- passed them too quickly to even see them, but I heard them. Hey! This is fun. I feel like I'm going really really fast! WHEEEE! (Thank you Uncle Tommy for loaning me your fast bike!) There were two tricky hills on the route and they slowed me down, but not as much as I feared. Then came the run. And this is where I took stock: the swim felt good and it was fun. The 12 mile bike felt good too and it was fun. But this 3 mile run? Not feeling fun. It was work. I do have to thank the heavens for answering my prayers with a decent bit of cloud cover and a breeze; it could have been A LOT hotter. I ran as much as I could and walked whenever I felt like it. People passed me whether I was walking or running. But I did it.
And this is my favorite shot of all, courtesy of my friend Anthony. I like it because it shows some of the happy faces I got to see at the finish. The friends who gave me hugs, words of encouragement, advice, a hand drawn sign urging me to "TRI HARD!" and a great big cheer at the end.
Thanks Ya'll. See you next year!
The end of the school year had a piano recital. I swear there was much more enthusiasm displayed during the recital. He was confidant and eager to play.
Then there was the culmination of an entire season of 'black tiger' growling. Not much of a growl here, but you can just imagine it at every game.
the action shot!
Our youngest got to jump around at places other than his bed and the sofa.
He is also an expert head stander, which he also practices on the sofa, yelling at me to "get off the ceiling mom!"
And then there was me. I did it! My goal was to finish the Danskin triathlon without dying. I admit, not a lofty goal, but mine nonetheless. Don't I look all fierce here?
I'm looking a lot less fierce at the here, just red-faced and sweaty, but hey! notice the not dying!
I started the whole event nervous, apprehensive and overwhelmed. There were TONS of people. Where is the buoy I'm supposed to swim out to? Am I standing with the right group to get started? Did my family make it here yet? Do I see anybody I know? Are my goggles gonna leak? Will these new shorts work for the swim and the bike? Look at how many cancer survivors are here today, how can I be fretting about goggles and shorts when others have made it through so much more?
I was alone in a swarm of people, all preparing to do something amazing. It was a little emotional.
And then I swam. It was a good swim. I don't think I ever got a good sightline of the buoy I was supposed to swim to, but I followed the herd enough to get there. It's hard to swim with so many people all around you, on top of you, under you, but I managed. In the pool, I can swim the half mile in 15 minutes easily. With the swarm I finished in 20. I emerged in great spirits to get ready to ride - still scanning the crowd for anyone who might be there to cheer me on -- and YES! there was Jesse! Can't even describe the boost I got just from seeing the glimpse of his face and hearing him cheer. It was awesome.
And then I had to pee. Which seemed to take forever and a day (and with a timing chip strapped to my ankle I know just how long forever and a day really was - 6 minutes.)
F i n a l l y on the bike I pass my family on the way to the event -- passed them too quickly to even see them, but I heard them. Hey! This is fun. I feel like I'm going really really fast! WHEEEE! (Thank you Uncle Tommy for loaning me your fast bike!) There were two tricky hills on the route and they slowed me down, but not as much as I feared. Then came the run. And this is where I took stock: the swim felt good and it was fun. The 12 mile bike felt good too and it was fun. But this 3 mile run? Not feeling fun. It was work. I do have to thank the heavens for answering my prayers with a decent bit of cloud cover and a breeze; it could have been A LOT hotter. I ran as much as I could and walked whenever I felt like it. People passed me whether I was walking or running. But I did it.
And this is my favorite shot of all, courtesy of my friend Anthony. I like it because it shows some of the happy faces I got to see at the finish. The friends who gave me hugs, words of encouragement, advice, a hand drawn sign urging me to "TRI HARD!" and a great big cheer at the end.
Thanks Ya'll. See you next year!
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Why
It has been an exciting week. There is something about a grand bit of ceremony that makes one feel proud and excited and yes, hopeful. I am usually wary of all that pomp and pageantry, but for some reason this year I was fully relishing it; even down to the little presidential seal flags on the trumpets.
I was explaining to the boys the events of the day on Tuesday - because I'm sure in their minds Obama has been the president forever by now. I was also explaining why so many people seemed excited about this new president.
"Not many people liked our previous president Bush." I started.
"Did you vote for president Bush?" Nbear asks.
"No, I didn't. I respect him because he is our president, but I don't really like him as a president."
"Why?" he responds.
and here I take a long breath. Where does one start here? And what can be digested appropriately by a newly minted 6 year old? I started some discussion about his environmental policy. That seemed to satisfy him, but it left me wondering a bit more. What exactly/specifically/precisely was it that bothered me the most about Bush?
One answer came to me on DAY TWO. President Obama reinstates our nations compliance with the Geneva Convention rules about torture. Our previous administration seemed to take the low road on this count. I can understand the anger and fear that followed September 11th, I really can. But that fear and that anger and that desire for revenge should not have seeped in to our dealings with other human beings. Terrorists? yes. But still human beings. I'm not saying we have to coddle them by any means, but there is a level of human decency that I had always hoped we as a race had evolved to. The policy of allowing torture just made me feel sad for all of us - it proved that we were no better than "them." And we should know better. But I am an idealist, I know. But it's a little like the parenting advice that comes from school - strive for perfection, know that you will not always get there and be perfection, but at least have in your sights what you are striving for.
**********************
And now a birthday interlude! Complete with cocktails!
***********************
In other notes, my hair passes muster with my mother. It was my intention to go to Houston last weekend and get the official "sniff-test." As a teenager in my house I could come down the stairs in the morning and my mom could take one sniff and ask "have you already worn that shirt? It's a bit stinky." Yes, I know as teenagers we are often stinky, but my mom's nose has always been very sharp. So I wanted to see if my shampoo-free hair was starting to reek. Because who else can honestly tell me? Smith, gawd love him, is cursed with a non-smelling nose, so he is no help. And most friends aren't going to pop up and say "gee, your hair smells less than terrific!" Close friends may count but, Sinda is on the same experimental hair ride so she's biased and Lisa (whose nose may rival my mothers) is far away in Colorado. (When WILL we get the smell-a-phone!?!)
"So what's up with you and not using shampoo?" my mom asks.
"Well, I'm using baking soda now, instead of shampoo."
"But WHY?" she wants to know.
and honestly, I have no good answer for it right off other than, "Why not?!" No better than my answers when I was a teenager. I suppose to most people my hair looks exactly the same. To me, it feels different. It feels better, but I can't say that based on anything. Perhaps I'm still in the throes of "my hair has so much more volume and shine since I started this new shampoo!" sort of honeymoon. But I like it. We'll see how long it lasts.
Lenny asks, "what's that smell?"
I was explaining to the boys the events of the day on Tuesday - because I'm sure in their minds Obama has been the president forever by now. I was also explaining why so many people seemed excited about this new president.
"Not many people liked our previous president Bush." I started.
"Did you vote for president Bush?" Nbear asks.
"No, I didn't. I respect him because he is our president, but I don't really like him as a president."
"Why?" he responds.
and here I take a long breath. Where does one start here? And what can be digested appropriately by a newly minted 6 year old? I started some discussion about his environmental policy. That seemed to satisfy him, but it left me wondering a bit more. What exactly/specifically/precisely was it that bothered me the most about Bush?
One answer came to me on DAY TWO. President Obama reinstates our nations compliance with the Geneva Convention rules about torture. Our previous administration seemed to take the low road on this count. I can understand the anger and fear that followed September 11th, I really can. But that fear and that anger and that desire for revenge should not have seeped in to our dealings with other human beings. Terrorists? yes. But still human beings. I'm not saying we have to coddle them by any means, but there is a level of human decency that I had always hoped we as a race had evolved to. The policy of allowing torture just made me feel sad for all of us - it proved that we were no better than "them." And we should know better. But I am an idealist, I know. But it's a little like the parenting advice that comes from school - strive for perfection, know that you will not always get there and be perfection, but at least have in your sights what you are striving for.
**********************
And now a birthday interlude! Complete with cocktails!
***********************
In other notes, my hair passes muster with my mother. It was my intention to go to Houston last weekend and get the official "sniff-test." As a teenager in my house I could come down the stairs in the morning and my mom could take one sniff and ask "have you already worn that shirt? It's a bit stinky." Yes, I know as teenagers we are often stinky, but my mom's nose has always been very sharp. So I wanted to see if my shampoo-free hair was starting to reek. Because who else can honestly tell me? Smith, gawd love him, is cursed with a non-smelling nose, so he is no help. And most friends aren't going to pop up and say "gee, your hair smells less than terrific!" Close friends may count but, Sinda is on the same experimental hair ride so she's biased and Lisa (whose nose may rival my mothers) is far away in Colorado. (When WILL we get the smell-a-phone!?!)
"So what's up with you and not using shampoo?" my mom asks.
"Well, I'm using baking soda now, instead of shampoo."
"But WHY?" she wants to know.
and honestly, I have no good answer for it right off other than, "Why not?!" No better than my answers when I was a teenager. I suppose to most people my hair looks exactly the same. To me, it feels different. It feels better, but I can't say that based on anything. Perhaps I'm still in the throes of "my hair has so much more volume and shine since I started this new shampoo!" sort of honeymoon. But I like it. We'll see how long it lasts.
Lenny asks, "what's that smell?"
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