Cruel heat wave in the NW = keeping doused with water, either by hose or by wave.
The kids’ sand castle at Old Man House Beach.
Point No Point was a great outing a couple of days ago with lots of Bainbridge friends.
Last night’s concert at the park was Louisiana zydeco with Whozyamama, perfect music for a hot summer evening.
The kids found a water source right away, and yep, the one manning the watergun sprinkler would be mine.
S. made this lovely sign for her bedroom door during quiet time yesterday:
Rules
1. Knock first
2. Clean People Only
3. No Wineing
4. No Screaming
5. No Yelling
6. No Hitting
7. No Begging
I think it’s safe to say that rules 3 through 7 were inspired by the little brother, and 2 applies to both her siblings (notorious muddle-makers both). This sign is leaps and bounds more friendly than past signs she’s made, but still gets her point across: her bedroom is inviolable space. We recently re-decorated it, and she takes great pleasure in keeping it tidy and nice.
Yesterday afternoon, S. took the dolls out for a tea party on the lawn, and when I swung by to say my hellos to the dollies, this was the scene:
I got a rare flash of the personalities S. sees/imbues these dolls with:
The first two dolls on the left, Emily and Kirsten, are fast friends, leaning back a bit after overindulging on cream puffs. Kate, the incorrigible dreamer, is lying back watching the clouds. China doll is sensitive and secretly quite playful, taking any chance she can get to spend time with her best friend, Redhead, who is the life of the party.
A moderate one, an easy one, and a fairly strenuous one.
First, Farmington Canyon. We hiked this as part of my family reunion; age span was 6 months to 56 years. I was surprised to find the landscape so green–Utah has gotten some out-of-season rain lately, and the canyons are really gorgeous right now.
Some interesting geology shows up in the boulders along the trail:
Since the trail is creekside, with a pretty little waterfall at one point, we had dragonfly companions.
As you hike back down, you can see the salt flats stretching out in the distance. The view reminded us of a Uzilevsky.
The second hike was a short flight of steps up the side of Big Cottonwood Canyon, undertaken with the goal of having dinner at the picnic table, and one of my favorite spots in the world: Moss Ledge.
On Wednesday, B., a brother-in-law, and I hiked Mt. Timpanogos beginning at the Aspen Grove trailhead. We started at 7 am and returned 7 1/2 hours later–going from sea level to 11,000 feet in a week took my breath away, quite literally. We didn’t quite make the summit because the snow field stretches across the trail near the peak, but we were quite close–and it was spectacular.
Mount Timpanogos as seen from the Aspen Grove trailhead.
Looking back from fairly low on the trail, you can see the Heber Valley and the Uintas. As you climb higher, Deer Creek Reservoir comes into view as well.
Waterfalls you can walk behind!
We got lucky–some of the mountain goats ventured fairly close to us.
Above the tree line, you get rocks and snowfields. But coming back down again, I took time to really notice the wildflowers absolutely bursting with color all over the mountain.
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.
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.
