07.04.09
Fireworks over Eagle Harbor
Just after 9 tonight, we put our two kayaks in the water and paddled out to the middle of Eagle Harbor. The sunset was gorgeous tonight:
By the time twilight had settled around us, the boats in the harbor began honking, an echoing jubilation, a call and response, a chorus rising from an anchored society of beautiful seacrafts.
We watched the firework displays being set off by people all around the harbor’s edge, and then as we were paddling back for the night, the city’s display began. We drifted to a stop and watched the expanding rings of Saturn and the weeping willows burst and die.
Once we’d convinced the kids that it *really* was the grand finale, we turned again and headed for the putting-in place. I breathed in the cool, briny air stirred up by my paddles mixed with the deeper, sharper smell of fireworks and barbecue smoke. I felt deeply alive.
3rd of July street dance in Winslow
Part shop-local-celebration, part old-fashioned summer street fair, downtown Winslow turned into a pedestrian zone of chaotic fun last evening.
K’s got the whole world on her cheek.
I love impromptu public art–it doesn’t happen enough. All along Winslow Way, the kids kept picking up pieces of sidewalk chalk and adding to the melange.
06.29.09
Silk log cabin quilt
Here’s the quilt I bought at the Rotary Auction, no provenance known.
It’s impossible for me to get a picture of it without the light in the way, now that we’ve hung it high on a wall. That was the evening’s adventure. Here’s how crazy resourceful B. is:
06.28.09
Proud Wearer of a Human Rights Campaign Cap
That’s me.
This morning our whole family marched in the Seattle Pride Parade with the Group Health contingent. Equality is something both B. and I feel strongly about, and it was a very positive experience for everyone in the family.
The kids carried balloons along with the other kids marching in our group, and S. wore a visor from K’s old softball team, Sisters. As we walked, a parade observer called out to my girls, “Thank you, little sisters!”
Thanks to Group Health for sponsoring the parade and for being a progressive and humane force for good.
06.27.09
The Idaho in me
My potato patch:
I should have grabbed A. to be my scale reference–these vigorous monsters are up to his shoulders. I’m thinking they like the bunny-dropping fertilizer I treat them to.
I dug some of the new potatoes, both reds and golds, and made potatoes and peas in chive cream sauce for dinner. Was there ever a happier gardener? I don’t think so.
Acquiring more stuff, nearly (guilt)-free
Our morning’s loot from the Rotary rummage sale and auction:
1 old silk quilt (it’s beautiful, naturlich, and reminded me of my other one. Two makes me a collector of old silk quilts, I guess). I came in with the top bid of $65. I’ll post a picture once I have it hanging.
1 one-person kayak, bright yellow. The live auction ended with our bid at $185 and some jubliance among the kids.
1 Razor scooter, $10, to be shared amongst the kids. How well this will work: to be seen.
1 $12 bag o’books, containing some gems like O Pioneers, 4 Madeleine L’Engles, Wind in the Willows.
Some electronic equipment that is completely B’s department, and a whole passel of lacrosse sticks.
Good haul, huh? My garage-sailing cousin A. should visit me for next year’s auction–this is a gargantuan garage sale complete with speed boats, beds, and bombastic announcers. It’s great.
06.25.09
A kind of animal
A’s sorting out rational thought these days, and yet his mind seems dominated by the absurd and the imaginative a lot of the time. It’s something precious that wanes with late childhood. Some conversational tidbits:
I let the girls walk to the library from the orthodontist by themselves a couple of days ago, a distance of a block, and traversing a pedestrian crosswalk. After they left, A. said, “If S. dies, someone will have to get her bedroom.” I said, “S’s not going to die!” “Says who?” he said, breezily.
Walking back home hours later, I guided A. off the road when a car turned onto the road towards us. “Why’d you do that?” “Because I don’t want you to get hurt.” “I can die if I want to.” “No, I love you too much. That would break my heart, A.” “Yeah, you’d have sleepless nights,” he said, giggling a little.
[eta: I think this might come off as a touch psychopathic, but he's approaching it as he would anything else that is far removed from reality, e.g. If he turned purple I'd be upset. If he grew three heads I'd be upset. If he died I'd be upset. The last is no more real than the first to him.]
Yesterday morning, cuddling in bed, he grasped both of my hands. “Hah. I’ve got both your cousins.” “Hmm? Are my hands cousins?” “Yep. They look alike.”
Last week while we were having dancing night, A. said to me, “I’m going to grow up just like Papa. Know why?” “No, tell me.” “Because I’m his kind of animal.”
06.20.09
A new trick
I took the first day of a two-day scooter training course today; it was a little nerve-wracking and a lot of fun. Males outnumbered the females four to one in the class, and the oldest person taking the course is 84. 84!!! I hope I’m still learning new tricks when I’m in my 80’s.
The course is held in Seattle and Kent through the Evergreen Safety Council–I’ll soon have a motorcycle endorsement on my driver’s license. No telling how soon I’ll have a scooter, but I’m keen on the Fly Il Bello.
06.19.09
The life of the senses
In an 11-year-old who thrives on both order and free time, imagination manifests as fairy houses in the backyard:
The photographer at the beach, being pulled away by her small son (there are such interesting things to see, and they both see so much):
If you listen when the tide is coming in at Fay Bainbridge Beach, you’ll hear the sound of a thousand rain sticks. The water tumbles the smooth rocks over each other and the sound of them growing smoother yet is a beautiful thing.
Cracking pecans with my five-year-old (who’s a whiz nut cracker like no other) is a 5-sense immersion.
And on a rainy day in June, reading in warm wooly socks next to an open window makes me feel like I’m living in a tree house.
06.14.09
Around the June garden
Walk down these steps, and you’ll find A’s pea trellis:
Elsewhere, the strawberries and osoberries are ripening. The latter taste like…hmm, bitter lettuce? Something vaguely familiar, but something we don’t commonly taste. Kind of horrid and kind of tantalizing.
They look just like perfect miniature plums, don’t they? I adore them.
My neighbor gave me a ton of plants today, so I got to putter in the yard for a few hours. I love sedges and grasses and I don’t love lawn grass, so that worked out well. We ripped out a few square feet of lawn and extended the planting area.
