Toes say so much about a person

I looked down today at my feet and realized that my transformation into a Pacific NW mom is pretty much complete. Which is good because I adore it here.

I think Towhead’s clothing tastes must be wearing off on me. For example, today CT’s wardrobe involved striped leggings, a brown shirt, pink jumper, and orange socks. (And yes  I let her go to school like that)

There is beauty in colorful things.

I have to admit that as much as like where we’re living, I had a bout of desert longing this weekend while visiting friends in Wenatchee. While walking through a short space of sagebrush to get to an apple orchard, I stopped and broke off a piece of sage and found myself kneeling amidst the brush to just inhale that familiar scent. No matter where we move I think I will always long for the smell of rabbitbrush after a rain, cloud shadows passing across the hills, and aspen groves in autumn.

Glide, paddle, kick, and . . .

 . . . Swim!

Yep, folks. You guessed it. After a couple parent/child classes last spring, and a winter spent playing around in the YMCA pool, she was ready. Ready for what you ask? Ready for her first on-her-own-with-a teacher-and-no-mama swim lessons! I knew she was ready based on her comfort in the pool, but even I had no idea how ready she was. By the end of the first lesson she was holding her breath and retrieving things off the bottom of the pool in the shallow end!

I didn’t have extememly high hopes for a lot of progress though since we were only going to be in town for the first week of the two-week class. But we knew it would be enough to remind her of what she knew already and prepare her for being in Grandma and Grandpa’s pool over the 4th of July holiday. Teach me to underestimate my daughter or the power of peer pressure. You see, Towhead’s cousin, Ra-ra, is a pretty competent swimmer even though she’s only a few months older. Well, it seems that a week of lessons and a week of playing with her cousin did the trick because when we went to the Y again this week . . .

drum roll please

She. Can. Swim.

Underwater. By herself. Kicking super fast like a little fish. Pulling with her arms a little.

If it’s not clear already, I’m amazed. She’s not a pro yet of course. But I can let her go, 5 feet from the edge of the pool and she will swim to the side and climb right out.  Can you see me bursting with pride over my little fish? And she’s so happy with her new-found skill I can barely keep her above water in the kid’s section of the pool. She belly-splats, swims. Stands up, gasps in a breath, splats again and off she goes. Periodically I want to hold her above water for a minute or so and say “Breathe child!”

I’m flabbergasted. Our swim sessions over the winter were more to combat boredom and keep her comfortable in the water, not to really teach her anything, though I did try to get her to “kick and paddle” in my arms whenever possible. I’m just flabbergasted. It seems like so much progress in two weeks after a winter of the same ol’ stuff. Seem unbelievable? Believe it people, my girl can swim!

And if you’re wondering where we’ll be this afternoon, take one guess. (She’s been asking and pestering me all week.)

 At the pool!

Canoe Trippin’

I posted the picture of the new canoe, and though we’ve taken three trips so far, I’ve yet to post a picture!!

Well, here are a few from our last trip about three weeks ago.

We drove south of Spokane to Hole in the Ground, a marshy area right between two finger lakes – Bonney and Rock Lakes. From there we paddled north to Bonney Lake. It was a gorgeous day! 

Highlights and memorable moments: We saw a huge colony of cliff swallow nests, and were able to paddle close enough to see babies popping their heads out, looking for food.

 

Lunch on an island mid-lake, where we got to see a garter snake up close as we got out of the canoe. I was pulling the canoe up on some flat rocks when I looked down and saw it about three feet in front of me. I stopped and pointed it out to the Towhead before he slithered off into the brush. No startling “ahhh!”s on either of our parts. Just a quiet, slow “Hi. You can go now.” Mr. A tried to catch it, but didn’t get out of the canoe quick enough  I also my first glimpse of poison ivy (yikes!)

We paddled to the far end of the lake, a bit farther than we were in shape  prepared to paddle, though we didn’t realize that until the last hour of the trip. All of this was based on the fact that someone told us there was a waterfall at the end of the lake – the things we’ll put ourselves through for the sake of a little beauty We didn’t get to see the waterfall we were looking for, but we did get to see a waterfall. And lots  of painted turtles. I don’t have any pictures because we spent too much time trying to get close to them and maybe pull one in the boat for the Towhead to see. They were good size – imagine small dinner plate – with the characteristic red around the outer carapace. We got really close but never managed to catch one.

 

Then there was the last hour. Oh, that last hour was painful. And we almost tipped the whole family and everything that came with us into the lake when we went to retrieve a water gun the Bean (aka Towhead) had dropped into the water for the third time. Combine the long day, near dump into the lake, sore arms, and too much sun (no sunburns though) and the result was me sitting in the bottom of the canoe holding a tearful Towhead while Mr. A tried to navigate the windy path through the marsh by himself – not an easy task.

But that was the only downside of the day. After a Popsicle a wonderful stranger handed us, and a power nap in the truck, the Bean was ready to roar. One of the couples that went with us owns 300+ acres right next to Turnbull Wildlife and Elk Refuge just north of the lake. They fed us salmon, fresh corn, and coleslaw, and gave us a tour of the barns where they have sheep, goats, cows, turkeys, and chickens. Then the adults got to watch as the Bean and the other two kids ran around and tackled each other in the grass.

We head out again this weekend (or at least that’s the plan).

Bikes and Beer

Last night, after dinner, CT and I took my bike and the bike trailer to the park to play around for a bit on the swings. Mr. A brought the dog and his beer and walked behind us. There was a slight wind gusting through the dusky light. The frosty chill still hasn’t disappeared from the spring air, but three boys had also gravitated to the park to play basketball.
“Hey boys, whatcha doin’?” yells CT. Mr. A rolled his eyes and drank more beer.

Bloomsday 2008: breathing’s overrated

Bronchitis? No that was last week. This week, in memory of said respiratory infection (which I will miss so terribly) I got permission from the doctor to walk the world-class race that puts Spokane on the map, outside of it’s status as the only large metro area in eastern Washington. I’m not in good enough shape psycho enough to try to run 7.46 miles only seven days after being diagnosed with acute bronchitis. But I was anxious to be a part of such a big and fun event. And if that meant walking, I figured I could do that.

The Lilac Bllomsday 12K is actually bigger news than I thought. It’s billed as the largest timed toad race in the country. World-class runners from Kenya and other countries regularly participate in the event. It may only be a 12K but the course is far from flat, and this year over 50,000 people participated.

I’m excited. After a visit to urgent care a week ago I thought my goal of running Bloomsday was shot. My shoudlers slumped as we left the hospital. But given that I could hardly breathe I figured I’d be stupid to try it anyway. Five days later my doctor listened to my lungs and pronounced me free and clear – thank the goddess for antibiotics. I could do the race, she said, as long as I took my albuterol inhaler and walked for the most part.

As the race started it was all I could do not to run. Just like at Thanksgiving, the energy is contagious. Everyone is excited and bouncing and moving and yelling, and I just wanted to, well, run. But I was good. A few colleagues from Mr. A’s work who have participated in the race for years offered to let me walk with them. They were wonderful to talk to and they set a mean walking pace. I got to have it all – a good workout, good people to talk to, and funny people in costumes to watch. Walking fish, a storm trooper, clowns – the variety was reminiscent of Bay to Breakers, though not quite that extreme.

It was a blast. I have one small admission to make though. I did run. At the 7 mile mark I still had some energy to burn, so I broke with the pack and ran the last half mile. It felt good but I’m not sure I could have managed much more. Overall at a brisk walk it took me 2 hrs, 2 mins, and 25 sec to finish.  I think I’m hooked because all I could think of was next year, next year . . .