(Big silly bike mittens).

We are back from our illustrious, four night and five day vacation on Cannon Beach. I was kinda busy most the time - cooking for the group, finishing my novel (I'm done!), and doing some special sewing for installment in a local gift shop.

My sister and mother seemed to feel self-conscious - or grateful, or something - for the bit of cooking I did because they repeatedly bought us our lunches and dinners (citing fairness) at many a divine restaurant. Face it, we made money on that trip! I did get lots of sushi. This was awesome.

We took a few beach walks, too:


Sophie's favorite rock (some size perspective). She took off her skirt, shoes and socks, rolled up her leggings, and ran off into the cold surf. She is a little spirit of nature.


Nels had a tough time - lots of coughing, a bit of fever, and five minutes before we left he whacked his left eyebrow on a sharp, sharp corner.


Bunny contemplation.

Labels: bike, family life, FOO, Nels, Ralph, Sophie, vacation, X

The last couple weeks we here in HQX have been blessed with thrillingly sunny late autumn days. Today, even though my husband and I are both suffering from a head cold, we simply can't stay off the bikes. Our destination: the bakery (previously blogged by a local) new to downtown Aberdeen.

Our children seem to fare better, behavior-wise, when we go off on road trips and even more: bike trips. They are genial, their appetite is good, and their conversation entertaining. Ralph and I can usually get more uninterrupted conversation time, which keeps us from loathing one another too much. Today I tell him my novel synopsis; he tells me he plans a celebration for the family on Tuesday (the day, God willing, he gets his new guitar). We talk about our friends, our future plans. From the bakery to the grocery store for cat food and a few dinner items. Sophie pushes the cart, Nels rides underneath.

Have I mentioned how much I love, love, love biking for the opportunity to meet new people? As we leave the store we see a man jaywalking across the main thoroughfare (which is actually, regrettably, a highway) sporting a large beard, wearing an open coat, no shirt, huge gold chains, and talking to two big friendly-looking dogs connected not to him but to one another via fifteen feet of some kind of industrial cable tied around their necks. The dogs join us; the kids and I pet them. The man is cursing (gently) at them, trying to untangle their bi-leash. He compliments the bike. He looks unclean and cheerful, his chest beneath his coat smooth and muscled but also tragically scarred. The dogs look happy. We part ways for the now.

A few minutes later at Finch Park and the kids are gamboling on the playground while Ralph and I talk. As we sit huddled on the picnic table two teenagers enter the grounds, alike as two peas in a pod with hair in their faces, half-cocked hats, screenprinted hoodies, and jeans that hug low and tight on the hips and loose on the legs. Ralph points out he sees kids like this at the parks often, carrying themselves with a self-conscious stoop to their walk and remote body language; but who do, in fact, play on the playground equipment. "It's a commentary on childhood, and how we don't provide for kids this age," he says (or something like that, it sounded smart to me). Sure enough, the two boys effortlessly climb up to the top of the rope-coned merry-go-round and swing on it a bit, clearly wanting velocity. I heckle Ralph to go offer a push and, given his refusal, finally do it myself. The boys bray laughter like it's a joke but they concede happily. I push as much as I can, my daughter joining and clambering up along with the little pirates.

I return back to Ralph and as we continue our conversation I observe the youths have now freed themselves up to play on the large swings, the teeter-totter, goofing off. They are as joyful and full of mischief as the younger kids, and no one begrudges them their company. I often think of teenagers and young adults and how little some people trust or support them, especially if they have a cigarette in or bad language coming out of their mouths.

It's nice to just watch them play.

Labels: bike, family life, HQX, Nels, Ralph, Sophie, weather, X

This afternoon I biked the kids all the way to Cosi to meet Ralph in time for Suse's soccer game. OK, it's only eight miles (she says, modestly) but it's a rockin' eight near bisected by the most horrifying, awful bridge I've yet had to navigate. <shudder!> I was so very proud of the kids, though. They are cycling experts who make me very, very proud to ride with them.

So in short, major PWNAGE. On all y'all who drove cars today.

Today I talked in depth to two different people about my X and several more commented in passing or yelled out (compliments) as I whizzed by. And this is just the pedestrians I saw - who knows what the car drivers might have been thinking ("Get your fat ass off my roadway!" is one possibility).

I'm also, humiliatingly, adding more bells and whistles (actually bells and lights) to the X and hope to build (or have a friend build, or help me with) a rain canopy to keep the kids somewhat dry in the upcoming Assy Weather Season. With these additions to our SUB I will be further regaling my community soon with my antics / heroics (depending on what your views are on human-powered transportation).

Labels: bike, GH, soccer, Sophie, X

My dad, my mom, and I - on a beautiful evening. Robin, one of the most dear and sweet citizens of Hoquiam, took this picture from our August 5th National Night Out. This was back when I could sweetly live in the moment and savor it. It's been a week since my father died and I haven't had many sweet moments, although my husband and my children have been creeping into my heart in these ways lately. P.S. I stole some pain pills and take them now and then. Maybe that's what the "sweet" feeling is.

My friends Shannon and Abi called me today on separate occasions. Just to hear their voices and live a little with them was a little slice of heaven. I miss Abi terribly, terribly. She and I used to spend just about every day together and we could giggle together without tiring.

My brother, mother and I are on these tiny remote islands. We are mostly friendly to one another. I feel some hostilities, though. Not really against each other - I don't think. But since we're in the know of how much it hurts we don't have to pretend we're having a good time, either. Talk talk talk then, total silence while we miss my father so devastatingly much. Then talk some more I guess, because what else is there to do?

It was horrid and rainy today but we had a good time; I took the kids out on the bike and picked up Sophie's new bike and hooked it up (her front tire in the Freeloader like this) to take it home. I also had lunch at the Deli. Which always makes me feel better. And I saw Terry, the bike guy. And I met Matt, the cutest bike boy ever. By "cutest bike boy" I don't mean crush-cute, I mean he's probably young enough to be my son, and he welds bikes together, and he was shy and sweet a little like my brother. It's so rainy and lame bike-wise here, so it's great to meet another enthusiast.

Labels: bike, friends, garden, newness, sorrows, X

Today I worked at the eatery I was first employed at over seventeen years ago. It was a welcome break - very hard work, though. My children were coincidentally on a zoo trip with friends so I was almost a single gal for a few hours. This evening I got home (two and a half hours later than I'd originally thought I would) and unzipped my boots and stripped down to my slip and ran a bath - like a regular waitress.

While waiting tables today three men I knew from town unexpectedly consoled me regarding my father's loss. I wonder if my mom relates to my feeling of faking it, of floating through life looking "normal", feeling like a half-ghost. On one hand I am able to graciously accept their condolences and hear their remembrances - and in this case, record their food orders without pad and pen - and on the other hand I'm a broken person who isn't about to talk about how I really feel - not to strangers and yeah, sometimes I don't really feel like talking about it to friends or family, either.

Tonight when I got home a friend - herself recently widowed - brought us some home-cooked food. I told her thank you, for so many reasons but one being that it feels like the rest of the world will move on and I will somehow never do so. My friend said, "It never gets better," and - herself a very reserved person - began to cry. She waved and smiled and left as fast as she could. We're at my mother's house now reheating the delicious food and waiting to share it with a friend. The kindness of this food is appreciated, as is

when I got home tonight I also found out that a friend (who wished to remain anonymous) paid off the remaining balance on Sophie's bike at the bike shop. I found this out because my sister also bought me a bike-related gift the same day.

All in all, an overwhelming (bad and good) last twelve hours.

Labels: bike, tenderness, the Ghost of Christmas Bastard

A few days ago I asked my mother for a loan to buy my children raingear for the winter. This year, rather than being huddled in the zippered confines of the bike trailer, they'll be out in the elements with me on the Xtracycle.

I'm sort of dreading the rain and wind, but nevertheless committed to our non-car dependent lifestyle.

Now I need to get myself updated, too.

Labels: bike, HQX, weather, X

Last night we're sitting in our favorite pizza parlor. It's so nice to have Ralph home and know he's home for the weekend. I'm feeling very proud of him as he's been riding his bike to and from work every day. In the Hogaboom driveway days go by while both our cars lay fallow as my husband, children and I use public transit and our own human power to get around. It feels liberating.

Tonight in the pizza place I can't hear it, but on the television propped up by the kitchen I see an amusing commerical featuring a duck. First the duck somehow gets its bill stuck in a mail slot. Then the duck runs inside a barber shop and stands in front of a poster such that it appears to have a professionally-coiffed head of hair. Then the duck gets surprised about something and opens its bill really wide. I don't know what the commercial is about but I like it better not knowing what I'm supposed to buy, and just watching the duck.

A party of four adults toting one baby come in. The baby is about six months old, a girl, bald, and dressed only in a little red polka dot romper. No fuss, no huge carseat caddy or special sippy cup or pre-packed little baby food containers. I like that. The adults are young and boisterous - one calls the other "retard" as the shuffle the tables around. The baby turns around to look at us often as we eat. When the baby drops her toy Nels picks it up. He keeps an eye on the baby.

A couple comes in, a few years younger than my parents. He is huge, massive, wearing a Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirt, long silver-streaked ponytail, and full-arm tattoos. I actually feel very comfortable around men who look like this. They are usually very friendly, engaging guys. Sure enough, a few minutes later and he's making goo-goo eyes across the room at the aforementioned baby. I notice he and the infant have the same shade of large, blue-grey eyes.

The pizza, pasta, fresh coffee arrive and my family digs in.

Labels: babies, bike, bus, food, weekend

I'm a member of ten Yahoo groups (three I really need to leave), but this one sends a precious little bit of cargo my way every now and then:



My family has enjoyed the original - The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra - watching it a couple times a year for a few years now.





In other news, I have been given the honor of distributing an excellent publication, The Practical Pedal. It is one of my goals to spread the love of practical cycling (that is, cycling for everyone) in my little nook of Grays Harbor.

Labels: bike, film, GH, hilarity, HQX

Sometimes your day is just kind of lame and difficult, and what's worse, you are forced to realize how limited you are as a person. And it's my personal theory that when you become a parent, if you're a parent who tries your best (as most probably do), this "limited as a person" thing hits you right in the nose far more often than feels comfortable.

I head out at noon with the following bike load: myself and two children, three coats, my purse, a huge batch of library books, and a birthday package for my brother. Downtown after meeting with my parents I've relieved myself of books and birthday package but have now picked up an antique globe (yeah, yeah, WTF?, I know!) and some trail mix. On to the bus to the grocery store in Aberdeen to pick up the following: asparagus, carrots, cucumber, half a cantelope, half a red cabbage, 1 pound tofu, one lime, 1/2 gallon organic milk, shampoo, conditioner, tea tree oil, 2 large boxes baking soda, and a large bar of olive oil soap. To the feed store for bulk catnip and chick feeders.

As I suspected, putting the Xtracycle on a bus meant that one of the Transit personnel got in a dither ("Oh, I don't know if that will work..." yes it will work, I've seen it work,), fussing around and generally getting in the way of me practicing lifting the (rather heavy) load up where it needed to be. The bike is extra long so in order to fit it on a bus I have to take off the front wheel and load it on the back in the pannier - I admit it looks a bit suspicious to the narrow-minded.

I love the glimpses of people, neighborhoods, life that bicycling affords. In Hoquiam and Aberdeen we have a lot of semi-dilapidated or sometimes merely "well-worn" houses where people are just concentrating on living. In the hot afternoon I see my neighbors out on their front porches smoking, or two little girls who've rigged one of those giant trampolines with a sprinkler. People smile and stare at my bike and the large children dangling off the back. A rough-cut man in multiple trenchcoats shouts out, "Nice socks!" (they're not socks but makeshift legwarmers out of sleeves of a sweater I got off Freecycle). We see lots of kitties and talk about the names of flowers in full bloom.


(Later in the day, legwarmers and coats left behind).


Ralph took the kids to Lake Quinault yesterday. I was sort of dis-invited, but it worked out well enough for me to have some time to myself in the house.

Labels: bike, Nels, roadtrip, Sophie, X

Today I had one of those delightful days - a full schedule, just a skosh shy of being too full. Nels and I were off at 9:55 this morning - hauling two rakes, a hoe, a shovel, three small digging tools and two watering cans on the bike - for our end-of-year picnic and inaugural garden installation for Nels' preschool. From there we journied to my favorite diner where it was packed and I ended up doing dishes for about an hour and a half. Then to Sophie's school for my Monday slot of classroom helper. Nels attended and worked all these events; I forget sometimes how well-behaved my children can be. (Relatively; at my last shift at Sophie's school Nels urinated on the playground in full view of say, five thousand people).

Tomorrow: babysitting in the morning, movie night with the girls in the evening, a secret shipment of strawberries, cream, and pound cake to Sophie's teachers and who knows - maybe even a minute or two sewing!

Labels: bike, garden, HQX, school, X

After a pretty kickass dinner made especially for Ralph and my dad (meatloaf, mashed potatoes, pain de champagne, salad with marinated green beans, olives, and blanched beets), my little family biked / walked a few blocks to our annual Relay for Life. The Relay - or as we OG residents call it, the Cancer Run - is a pretty big deal here in Grays Harbor (yearly we are in the top ten nationally for monies raised per capita). My kids are awesome: they are up for anything, any time of day, and they along with Ralph are the funnest people I know to hang out with (Nels, accompanying Ralph to a portable toilet upon lifting the lid exclaimed suddenly, "You can't go in that - it's not a living room - it's a toilet!" WTF?). We walked the track a few laps, had coffee, caught up with friends and acquaintances. My children hugged nearly everyone they saw that they knew; they inspired Ralph and I to hug a little too.

On our way home just before 11 PM Ralph, pushing the Xtracycle with the kids on the back, abruptly moved the front wheel to allow a car past us and knocked the kids onto the pavement all in the glare of headlights and in front of about a thousand teenage hooligans. I felt bad for both the kids and Ralph but I admit slightly smug that I am pretty used to operating that bike thing. Don't worry: tomorrow I'll be punished for my hubris with a big nasty fall or at very least, a snag of my chain and pantleg.

My mom bought me a really awesome lasagna pan today; mere minutes later I am sitting here wishing I had a banneton instead. Satisfying both my minor fetishes for bread and basketry.

Labels: bike, cancer, family life, GH, X

Yesterday evening I biked about 8 miles total - hauling both kids, two huge coffee carafes, cream and coffee cups for two dozen people, my Secretary's binder - and a chicken barley casserole - to my son's preschool for our Open House. Now as one of the school hostesses I'd like to see myself this way: hair impeccably coiffed, one foot extended in a classy patent leather pump, sweater seat or classy dressy frock, and I'm smiling and saying gracious stuff (something like her). Instead it's me loudly cackling and probably saying the word "cock" to my friend Shannon (who also biked with me, and is also loud) and I'm sporting really filthy hippie pigtails, sweat rings*, red face, and leaking barley juice that was at least fragrant (the casserole turned out beautifully) while my children tumble into the school breakneck speed and I'm pretty sure Nels was, as usual, fully cross-dressed.

At the end of the event - four Board members, so much coffee, so much effort and organization - we'd managed to entertain and enjoy the one family that did attend. I looked at Shannon (our President for next year) and said, "We nailed it!" and we cackled some more. In all fairness I do think the family that came to the Open House will be enrolling both their small children. And my family and I had a great time and a great bike ride.

Today Ralph and I met with a school administrator to discuss next year's plan to homeschool Sophie. It was a great meeting and we were assured that the school supports our involvement in any school programs Sophie would like to attend. But I was left with that distinct feeling of - for lack of a better word - company-speak. I found myself wanting to know more from this administrator; more about how someone privy to the school system felt about our WASL, about homeschooling; perhaps some candid talk about the troubles and triumphs of the system. As it is I am still dumb as a post to any political or backroom knowledge. Still, it was nice to meet and discuss; and it was very nice to know the door is completely open to us.

I felt so silly the rest of my day. I've been busy lately but not too busy to avoid a general contentment in my life. Is it true all I want to do is cook**, visit with friends, garden, hang out with my kids, bike, and clean my house? And if it's true that's "all I want to do" - isn't that just a form of living, and a pretty good one? How did I luck into having my life this way (for now)? Why do I feel so odd being - again, for lack of a better word - fulfilled, by such mundane stuff?

* I couldn't find anything on Google image search sweaty and gross enough, sorry.

** Today I made Cypress Easter Bread, sourdough rye from my own starter (pwnage!), and Rustic Baked Beef Stew.

Labels: bike, food, food geekery, homesteading, Nels, school

This morning a little after 8 my husband, daughter, and son rode off in my girlfriend's minivan. Sophie to school, Nels and Ralph across the state to see about a wallaby.* As soon as I'd had my half cup of coffee I did the following:

Swept / vacuumed all floors
Watered and weeded the garden
Hung laundry
Re-washed stank laundry and threw out offending stank-gear that stanked the laundry up
Washed dishes, cleaned table, cleaned cupboards
Cleaned rat cage and tidied kids' room
Took a bath and packed my bike for a roadtrip**

All of this done by 10:30 so I could go about the rest of the day.

My friend Shannon calls the work we domesticiles do "the Cinderella Chores". At about day five in a row of backbreaking housework one can choose to die inside or decide, somehow, this work is worth it. It must be nice for the people who don't do this sort of work, or don't do it very often because their spouse does it, or they don't have children to care for and who have conveniently forgotten they were once infants who had others do this work for them. You could trick yourself into thinking you were smarter or more accomplished or hardworking than, say, people like me and Shannon.

But of course then you'd come over and have dinner with us and think, wow, this is a nice family and Kelly's a good cook and somehow family life is just easy and falls together. And you'd be a totally wrong asshole to think so.

For this morning: biking with my mom in the sun and against the wind, protecting oneself with sunscreen.

* Mercedes sedan we are interested in purchasing.

** In light of the weather's caprice I packed gear to change into should it rain; of course today was a record high and so hot I wished I could have spent the day in my back yard, naked and cowering under an awning.

Labels: bike, chores, weather

Last night we attended my daughter's kindergarten concert at the HQX high school's theater. It was glum and cold-ish at 6 PM when we biked up and then down a huge, steep awful hill to get there. I had to walk the bike both up and down - the "down" was at such an incline I didn't feel I could safely mount the bike and have Sophie do the same. And in my tippy Danskos at that with middle school students gawking. I don't think so.

The school concert was like being slammed into my own childhood, only I was a Mommy now. It was a familiar experience in some ways but alien in others. Parents, grandparents, siblings, friends, teenagers on chaperoned pseudo-dates filled the seats to overflowing. When the kindergarteners filed onstage parents a sweetness filled the room as parents began rising out of their seats to joyfully signal their own children (whom they'd just dropped off minutes before in the band room). With the hum in the air the rising and falling of parents in their seats reminded me of butterflies lifting and falling out of a swaying meadow. My daughter was in the first group out and the only child to, as she walked, turn and throw her head up to wave with confidence; they were all there to see her.

My son sat in rapt silence, bundled in his coat with his hair falling in his eyes, his gaze fixed on his sister and her big moment. Ralph got there late and snuck out after her performance to meet a friend. And a mere forty five minutes after we took our seats I was biking the kids home in the wet spring evening. We made pizza together in the kitchen and I hung Sophie's dress back up in her closet. Finis.

Labels: bike, family life, HQX, music, Sophie, weather

Yesterday I put this year's first load of clothes on the line and they were dry within hours. Today, walking (to check out a house my mother is interested in), biking and gardening all while wearing a new (gifted) spring skirt, t-shirt, and sandals - it just feels amazing. Ralph built up two garden beds and we have runner beans, cherry tomatoes, broccoli, sunflowers, amaranth and a handful of other flowers (gifted from Abbi) to put in beds tomorrow, not to mention seeds to start (peas, carrots, lettuce, onions, beans, and more flowers). The kids are in spring spirits too, having their first dirty-feet day of the season and staying up late.

Tonight: first bonfire of the season, including sleeping bags, quilts, and snuggling.

Labels: bike, garden, weather

Today heading back on Cherry against fierce headwinds I would have given up and turned the corner for the nearest bus stop if I could have - that is, if I'd practiced popping off the front wheel to load the bike on the bus.* It wasn't just the run-of-the-mill tiredness after working a school shift and biking with Nels against the wind, it was that I'd been running late this morning and Nels and I got absolutely dumped on (rain the likes I've never experienced before) which led to the compromise of even our winter-prepared gear and ultimately Nels spent his birthday - the last day in his 3 /4 preschool class - wearing tight Barbie jeans and a babydoll fluffy sweater (spare clothes of the preschool's - and don't think the wardrobe wasn't his dream come true) and I never felt I got dry before I had to head back home.

Even worse for me was a pesky creepy Ju-on rattle emanating from the back of the bike: somehow the child's seat is sitting lower than the 1/4" clearance off the snap deck. Not only does this unsettle me (a potential safety concern), I also am not interested in my seat or snap deck being marred. It's hard for me when something just eats away at me and I can't fix it anytime soon.

I finally got home after dropping Nels off at my mother's. I cleaned and sorted and emailed and filled out acres of paperwork for tomorrow's pediatric dentist appointments, then picked up Sophie for some one on one time. My mother ended up taking Nels on a birthday shopping trip: a soccer ball, dump truck (for hauling dirt in the garden), socks, shoes, underwear, shorts, shirt, and hat. At four PM he swaggered out of her van all decked out and directing her to carry his parcels (reminded of: "Big mistake," Julia Roberts sasses while toting huge shopping bags in Pretty Woman).

Tonight we dragged ourselves to Casa Mia (my foursome, my parents, and friend Jasmine) for our dinner and Nels managed to stay awake, although looking very sleepy (his second wind set in: he's awake behind me as I type this). We had a magical moment as another table serenaded a sixty-something member with a happy birthday, erupting in operatic vocalizations and ending in a round of hearty applause. My husband took Nels over to introduce himself as another birthday and after making acquaintance the group sang even louder to Nels, the entire restaurant joining in as one - it was like listening to a choir performance. I wish I would have asked them who they were or how they came to sing so well. I was trying not to collapse into my dinner with some kind of exhaustion, but that didn't prevent me from smiling like a fool and feeling the sting of tears.

The evening eventually wound to a close at my parents' after birthday cake and gifts. Nels received four presents, two of them additional Lego sets which he has not stopped fixating on since two and a half hours ago. He tells me, "I'm happy on my birthday."

Yes indeedy.

* Last week the children and I rode out to the bus barn on the Aberdeen / Hoquiam border to practice my hand at quick loading of the bike on the front of a transit bus. After a few minutes waiting in the lobby a supervisor came out and told me she was sorry but due to insurance concerns the public were not allowed in the bus yard. She went on to tell me it was easy to put a bike on the front of the bus. I stopped her then and explained that no, it wasn't - I had a special, extra-long bike I needed to take the front wheel off of to proceed. When it started to dawn on her I'd ridden my two children out the barn for the sole purpose of this practice run, she flushed and, from the looks of it, felt rather taken aback at her legalistic refusal. However, I'm not usually in the mood to ask someone to bend the rules. The handful of employees craned their necks out at the bike as I whisked us out and away. Nothing like leaving someone with that, boy do I feel like a douche feeling.

Labels: bike, birthday, Nels, rain, weather, X

Today we sojourned over 11 miles* on the new bike - loading up on groceries all the way. A dozen farm eggs at the Farmer's Market; cotton balls, q-tips, two packages elastic, 2 1/2 yards fabric, ribbon,** nail polish remover, 2 packs baking soda, 1 gallon milk (for cheese) at Walmart; chives, minneola oranges, cherry tomatoes, english cucumber at Jay's; 2 packages soba, rose buds, misting bottle, pistachios, black pepper, four muslin bags at the Market Place; a stop for brown bag lunch and coffee at the Coffee Bean Cafe with purchase of a pound of their Costa Rican coffee beans; 1 yard interfacting at Quilt Harbor; edamame, butter, Nancy's honey yogurt, canola oil, rennet, tweezers at Swansons.

At Swansons, our last stop, I finally admit to myself I'm kind of a weirdo when with my children off our Bag Lady Bike I find myself asking for vegetarian rennet for tomorrow's cheesemaking adventure. "Whut's that?" the meat department gal squints at me disbelievingly. "I've never heard of it." Guess what, they had it - or a close enough approximation anyway.

Turns out a day on the bike running errands is so very, very much more fun than doing them in a car. Part of it is the ebb and flow of companionship with my children; they help unload the panniers, hold the bike for one another, and pass out helmets to all. Sophie straps Nels' feet into his footholds, even when they come loose and I pull over and she has to hop off to do so. I have a feeling their enthusiasm won't wane; part of this is they know they are responsible for a great deal of what goes into riding the bike (for instance, they have to hang on, they have to decide how much clothing to wear, they tell me where to go, and - best of all! their little left arms stick out from the side of the bike to signal my turn intentions!). I did ditch Sophie off the back twice though, and I think a few motorists probably thought I was a colossal asshole. I told myself I was still learning.

Today's last ride was taken in companionable silence a few minutes ago in a very, very cold night chill, as Sophie and I returned from my parents' house after dinner. We were in the door at 9:56 PM.

And by the way, despite all the groceries loaded up under her legs Sophie didn't so much as scratch a single egg.

* Please note - there is actually a detour in effect that renders the west-side HQX part of this map incorrect; Google Maps wouldn't let me go the wrong way down a one-way street.

** These last two items are for tomorrow's sewing / art project w/kids.

Labels: bike, roadtrip, Sophie

3/28/08 2:15 PM: date and time that my precious, precious X joined the family. I feel superstitious and odd about it though because, A. it isn't fully paid off (but will be soon!); B. heck, even when it's paid off it was a lot of money!; C. I haven't put it on the front of the bus yet (have to try that out at the bus barn and hopefully while it's not snowing); and D. I'm still getting used to the very different handling of this new vehicle.

Sophie was still at school when I loaded Nels up and went off on the inaugural run to get groceries. It was literally hailing, I was in the lowest gear (I didn't realize this at first) and wobbling, and I could hear Terry (Bike Shop Guy) behind me making nervous, doubtful sounds as I rounded the corner. Once I sorted the gears things went better. The bike felt long and strange - even though I'm used to a much longer tail (vis-a-vis trailer - but obviously there is a "bend" in the trailer set-up). Nels up behind me instead of on two wheels on the ground felt odd but he seemed to really enjoy it. We hit Swansons and I kind of wondered around the place getting groceries, still excited about the bike (we bought Ralph some Jones Soda and the rest of tonight's repast).

From there we headed home, briefly warmed up inside and went off to get Sophie. The hail had subsided but the wind and cold were fierce. Adding another kid to the bike felt very wobbly and odd but the little monkey mounted, dismounted, and held on perfectly. The little kiddos will need gloves for sure as the elements were very, very rough.

This morning Nels took a tomato start to his teacher (actually his substitute teacher who was filling in during maternity leave; today was her last day) and I sent two to a couple AmeriCorp students Ralph knows at GHC.

The weather may not have tuned into this fact - but Spring is indeed here!

Labels: bike, garden, Nels, newness, rain, school, Sophie, weather, X

Today I felt defeated by the end of the day. Really, I'd had successes and I'd had good times but somehow around 4:30 I deflated with a big, listless pfffffthbh.

Maybe it was that I'd left my bike guy with the go-ahead to drill holes and install a piece of wood to part of my new bike work. I dunno, that took the starch out of me a bit; but it had to be done.


The Bike Shop has some excellent systems for running smoothly. Here's the thing, it's so incredibly cluttered and crazy yet Terry will never lose even your tiniest set screw (although it might take him a minute to find it).


Sophie makes do in the Lariat while we wait for our keys to be re-delivered to us. It has been so very, very cold - alternating between sunny, sleet, rain and wind.

Highlights of the day:

Cleaning up my sewing room (yay!) but even more meaningful, once again moving my tomato starts to an even sunnier spot and making a hallowed little place for them (tonight my mom asked if I'd named each one). I think growing green things might keep me cheerful this spring.

Driving next to Nels and listening to our latest download (Alicia Keys' "As I Am") while he puts his arms around me and sings to me.

Getting a coupon for free bread at the Franz outlet - what a creepy yet almost wondrous place that is! Nels got a "Cookie Credit Card", an ingenious marketing ploy to inspire children to pester overworked parents to stop in for mass-produced refined grains.

Making dinner, despite being so tired I didn't want to.

Having dinner with the kids; simple fare (homemade pizza dough with layered cheese; roasted brussel sprouts, sauteed tomatoes and squash) but so nice to see their joy in eating and pouring their own beverages from their little pitcher of water.

My husband trying to take care of me. He doesn't always know how much I appreciate this.

Labels: bike, food, gratitude, Mama's crazy, Nels, Ralph, Sophie, sorrows, weather

We had an outdoorsy day today: from taking a 9 mile roundtrip to get Nels from school straight to the bike shop where Terry and I (mostly Terry, although the kids and I were there for a lot of it and I even helped and learned parts of my bike, yay!) Franken-biked my Giant into an Xtracycle! Since my bike was torn apart before my eyes this involved me finding a way in poor weather to Sophie's school and back home without wheels - in horizontal rain for part of it. Bitar's Bike Shop is also slightly colder than the outdoors, and the outdoors were cold. Short story, it's almost 9 PM and I'm still not warmed up.

The bike conversion is - so far - as lovely as I'd hoped. As in, I might have trouble sleeping tonight. In Bitars as I removed parts from the box I gazed upon them and fondled these parts (Oh, sleek Snap Deck!) as if they were so much excellent and rare porn, finally delivered into my hands after a seeming lifetime of waiting. The Xtracycle was fun; the g-d euro child's bikeseat (I shall not name specifically and therefore print libel here about the annoying setup instructions) ended up taking us past 6:30 PM and Terry's departure time so my S.U.B. will not be street-ready until tomorrow (pictures later; I'm kind of exhausted). I'm hoping dearly for a better day than today's offerings (of which I had to bike, walk, bus with children) but I will test-ride that thing come rain or shine.

Oh, and Monday I was interviewed on by a college student (with his ladyfriend taking photos) for some coursework that involves Sure Nail & Fire. My zine is being featured as a small-town effort extolling the virtues of Harbor life; I listened to my interview today. I was really impressed with the editing job, especially after the NPR experience and how much coaching that entailed for just a short blurb; and considering Monday's relatively low-fi recording device. For the record both interviewer E. and his girlfriend (photographer) K. were the most charming, sweet visitors we've had in a while. Smart and easy to talk to as well as cute as if kittens could be made into people (I bite my tongue to not refer wistfully to their youth).

Labels: bike, GH, HQX, rain, SNF, weather, writing, zine

http://www.dothetest.co.uk/

Labels: bike, hilarity

Tonight we have guests for dinner. I'm making a bunch of Mexican food including camarones, a defiant seafood purchase (Ralph hates anything that flops around in the ocean - except, oddly, tuna sandwiches - the more ghetto the better).

Yesterday I biked a little over nine miles with the kids - and groceries. My trip got heavier and heavier, and windier and windier (the rain was pretty much a constant). Plus there were these bright ideas I had at the middle Swansons of picking up - on a whim - self-rising flour, buttermilk, and tinned goods - thereby adding massive amounts to my payload.



I had a dream last night my Xtracycle was up and running. It was almost pornographic.

Labels: bike, food

Time slows down on the bike. Today I started the day with sewing machine loaded up in the trailer and lengths of fabric, heading off to my mom's to sew on a quilt (for my son's school's yearly auction). She and I set up in the kitchen and talked and hummed along on our two machines, taking breaks for coffee and to steam-press newly-sewn seams before sitting back down for another round of stitching. Nels joined us after preschool and happily retired to the living room to help Grandpa with a puzzle until it was time for us to hit a diner for lunch.

After eating and chatting with the waitresses it was off in the sunshine to pick up my daughter; we're early so once Nels and I get off the bike and unpack helmets and walk in to the school for Suse, why not let the kids stay and play on the playground for a few minutes? Not something I feel inclined to do when I'm in the pickup line, dutifully driving through the roundabout and pausing to have my child inserted in the car (I've seen other parents stay uninterrupted on cell phone calls during this operation). On the swings I permit myself a foray into Andrew Bird (must... stop... listening to incessantly!) on my new [late] birthday present from Ralph (variety: purple).

Time slows down enough that, say, you suddenly realize you had a date ten minutes ago in Aberdeen and can't possibly make it (shit!). Or enough that you don't jet home for the day and therefore miss a phone message canceling tonight's hosted dinner at friends' house, due to friends' illnesses. Therefore my joke in arriving at our friends' house (smoking a cigarette while biking, observed more often than you might think in GH) is completely lost on the hosts, afflicted with equal parts plague and guilt. Home for a quick plan and make-up of evening repast.

Labels: Aberdeen, bike, GH, Grazdma, sewing, the Ghost of Christmas Bastard

Lately I've spent some time noticing vehicles on the road. Man, they are large. Yesterday on our way to Olympia an Acura SUV thing idled behind me, the driver quick to hop on my ass as we traveled from stoplight to stoplight in the motorists' tedium that is downtown Aberdeen. In my rearview mirror I saw a man alone in the cab with his left shoulder up, draping his hand over the wheel of his Amazing Driving Machine and the other alternately on the phone or down out of sight, texting or fondling his balls or whatever. In front of me a Silverado rumbled as it spread it's huge asscheeks all over the road, easily larger than the Acura and laughing back at my seemingly miniature Mazda "light" pickup. And today on the road I saw some kind of Mazda - it looked like a car, but way bigger, or close up with a tiny person inside. This person sat well above the cab of my truck. These cars are huge but don't seem to boast a lot of room inside - they mostly just boast being big. I find myself wondering why we have so many gleaming, gigantic vehicles out and about, especially in an area that is said to be "economically depressed"? I guess I will start concerning myself with people whinging about gas prices when I see just a few fewer bewheamoths out on the road.

This morning on the bike I found a good route to get to Nels' school; ducking out of highway traffic and staying on a relatively quiet side-street for much of the ride. The route was nice; the bike ride not so much. It was clear but cold, with a head wind persistent enough that on mile two my legs stopped complaining and just did their drudgery dispiritedly, like listless indentured whores. Nels sat back in the trailer amidst winter coat, wicker basket full of juice and snacks, and a big quilt my mom sewed him several Christmases ago. He wasn't complaining.

It was quiet out and comforting enough. At the end of Cherry I hit a small snag and had to backtrack half a block for an alley. Finding my way back to a road I heard my son from the trailer: "You can do it, Mama. You can find my school!" I felt oddly heartened and touched by his cheerleading. An hour later when he was chosen in his classroom to describe today's weather, he put the weather dials to "windy" and "cold". I thought he was in a special position to know, having braved the elements with me.

On the way home he fell asleep; I aborted my shopping plan (only after I'd already parked, chained the bike, and removed my helmet to discover him in Slumberland, Population One) and headed home where I brought in his artwork, dirty laundry from the school, leftover juice bottles, and one sleeping boy to strip down and tuck in for the remainder of his snooze.

Sometimes - not when I lose my temper or get distracted doing my work - but sometimes, I wish I was my own mom, and I was a little kid who got to be taken care of by her.

Labels: Aberdeen, bike, Nels, roadtrip, tenderness, weather

Whatever bits of spare time I thought I had have been taken up by biking and sewing, both of which I've been doing quite a bit more. It is merely exhausting pulling my trailer of 100 or so pounds (kids, books, backpacks, groceries) and by the time I get home it's time to start dinner or finish the dishes or collapse on the bed and wish for a second wife in the family while I wait for my husband to rescue me from some of my work.

Yesterday Nels, E., and I biked down to the bus station to catch a bus to Aberdeen. We shopped for groceries at Safeway (the kids chose a car-like kid cart and were endlessly amused when I'd "drive" it crazily or recklessly) and packed half of the food into my backpack, half into one of those heinous plastic bags that cuts your palm to ribbon as you procced to walk across town. Physically carting one's own food around town definitely self-moderates any extra purchasing one might be tempted to do; however I can't bear the annoying extra expense of buying organic milk by the half-gallon.

After the grocery store we visited the local fabric shop for a bit; on next door where I sipped coffee in a cafe - the two children playing perfectly at an adjacent table - before walking the remaining seven blocks to E.s uptown school. The two little ones held up great and just before we got to the school we sat on a bench to have a snack and rest up. The walk and bus ride back home with Nels was less pleasant; I am prone to car sickness and it seems the bus system, already not without problems, hasn't quite learned to cope with our bridge detour. The result was an extra and unexpected (for me and several other passengers) three mile delay when I was already about to puke my guts. I grimly held on as Nels gamboled about in the backseat flirting with all who came into eye- or earshot. I was never happier to see the station and our locked- up bike apparatus as when I shakily stumbled off the bus and held my breath from the diesel fumes.

I have started to believe that Grays Harbor Transit is underdesigned and largely ignored by those who have the time and influence to improve it. For instance at last week's HBA meeting there was an anecdotal story about the bus system working well despite our detour - "working well" has not been my experience - and the conversation quickly turned as if we'd merely discussed an quaint irregularity; I'd wager not one other person at this meeting actually uses the system with any frequency. The schedule and routes don't seem to be built for commuting but rather for those who have no motorized means of transportation and are at the mercy of such a system. In my several times a week riding I do not observe daily white-collar commuters (my husband rides the bus an average of two days a week and reports the same) and I have never seen another white, middle/upper class mum on board. People I do see on the bus: the sick, elderly, morbidly obese, or suffering riding up the hill for medical treatment, those in drug or alcohol counseling programs, those working blue-collar jobs, users with fallen-in mouths, hooded eyes, and dubious personal hygiene, near-silent Latina women and their small children. I have overheard many, many stories of drug use, treatment, and court (in fact, one woman sitting by me yesterday became agitated at the unexpected delay as she was required to be in court at a certain time). I have seen people with plastic bags of their own clothes or cheap Walmart goods huddled in their seat and scarfing food down, their skin tone poor and their eyes tired. People trading stories of methadone, roomates who've ripped them off; last week a woman asking another casually, "What are you then? An alcoholic or something?" as if inquiring about a fraternal organization. I feel like an anomoly on the bus.

In any case it doesn't make sense, I suppose, for the bus system to improve. Even with gas prices rising as they are people are still freely choosing driving as a means of transport. Neither are many carpooling; in my biking about town I've taken to counting cars and have found over 80% of car trips to be passenger-free.

Other perils of bussing and biking; I went so long without driving our van that a tiny, tiny light left on managed to drain the battery over the period of three days. Whoops!

Labels: babysitting, bike, bus, GH, paying gig

Today the children and I took the day off to take a trip to Elma on the bike and transit. Graced with four fresh tamales my mom picked up from our local market I first biked to the bank (I'm ashamed to admit I was really irritable when told I could not use the drive-through bank teller at my bank - two clerks were sitting there and no cars were in sight, not to mention I had two children buckled in the bike trailer) then sorted us out at the station for a two-bus trip.

I didn't mind the free occasional bad language or methadone / heroin / prison talk (I heard all of this on both trips between Elma and Aberdeen) although I was shocked and disgusted to hear a woman behind me, in response to discussing a court date, call an area judge a "faggot". I just forget the ugliness some people openly display (I guess I'm more used to those who hide it inside).

My children charmed many on our trip both in shops and on transit. Nels complimented a woman on her hair, eyes, and earrings in such a way several people laughed and the lady herself blushed. Lots of beautiful people who've lived hard, aged early, and have bad teeth. But somehow more vital, because they live so much of their life in public systems and don't hide their light, such as it is, under a bushel.

Total miles not driven today: about 55, or $6.20 in gas (I spent $1 on bus fare roundtrip). This theoretical $6.20 more than paid for the two necklaces the kids had custom made at Unique Beads, a cute little Hawaiian print dress marked down to 50 cents at a new consignment shop (day three of their opening), and three kid-sized ice cream cones at a local coffee shop after our home-packed lunch.

So yeah - I like shopping, as it turns out. It's nice when it's all day, a family experience, and costs next to nothing.

Labels: bike, bus, consumerism, food, Nels

It wasn't for eco-smugness or personal virtue that I biked to Aberdeen and back today; it was simply because my mind has been over-active and I thought some intense physical exercise might help alleviate that (it did). Only a small part of the reason I was keyed up was an invitation to the Hoquiam Business Association meeting to speak on the zine; it was a short and pleasant meeting as well as extremely informative. Everyone was dressed nice (suits and pumps); my "nice" was a flannel shirt covering the skull t-shirt underneath. Whoops!

8.7 miles and counting; the distance I biked today. I had Nels in the trailer about half that time. On the highway I got a wave from M. and J. (I later found out they'd gone around the block to re-wave so's I'd see them) and was treated nicely by not one but two log trucks; it kind of made my day. Getting off the bike at Swansons for groceries (tofu, carrots, broccoli with my dwindling week's cash allowance) the post-physical afterglow made me feel like smiling and making conversations at everyone; many shuffled out of their cars in sweats and did not make eye contact going into the store.

From there I hit our idiosyncratic bike shop to negotiate the ordering and installation of my longtail bike mod and to get Nels' helmet refitted. The rain finally started coming down and the last leg of the trip was a little damp. Home to cats waiting for the fire to be turned up.

Labels: bike, geekery, rain

the number of children for the number of hours I cared for them without adult help. Depending on who I had and the time of day this may or may not have included mile-long walks with a backpacked baby cooing in my ear and four preschoolers in tow (and yes, a coffee in hand), then the bike with my own children after a circus-like ringleading of five kids in one diner (splitting steamed milks before we spent fifteen minutes just getting coats on for departure). During the day I employed several very smart Mama tricks (including holding the hands of the clumsiest or spaciest children while walking on HQX's treacherous sidewalks so if they took a gainer I'd kept them from busting a kneecap) and a few I-thought-it-was-clever ideas that backfired (encouraging the children to each pick a wildflower and then: "Alison took my flower!" "Nels made a bad choice!" "Where's MY flower?!" for about five thousand blocks). Another impressive stat - minutes of televised entertainment I employed today: twelve.

Taking care of children when things are going smoothly is extremely exhilarating for me; I never would have guessed this before. It's like running a well-oiled kitten factory except the kittens are smart enough to talk and be interesting with what they say (OK, the baby's kitten talk is the equivalent of, "Give me fish!" "Change my litter box now!" "Something's WRONG and I am going to squall until you figure it out!!!" Speaking of baby T., I only hurt him once (by sad and freak accident, not on purpose or due to neglect; I told his mom to bring a helmet next time but instead we're settling for a Pack N Play or what you old folks know as a "playpen"). If you see a really abused-looking little blue-eyed baby about town just know I feel worse about it than he does.

Apparently 2008 is the Year of Consumerist Lust for me? It goes deeper than wanting to buy something because I have actually been up at night worrying my quilt with my teeth wondering what the heck I'm going to do about my kids growing out of their bike trailer (a Burley with 100 lb. capacity and my children folded in as it is). Last night cruising around the inter-Tron I find BikePortland which leads me (back) to Clever Cycles for a lingering look at my cycling wet dream - and then, suddenly, I see the word "longtail" and read, with increasing interest, a (potential) exact solution to my family needs + my biking life. When I catch the picture of the fellow with two my-size-children and grocery bags to boot I almost throw up in excitement. And this matrix regarding transportation (yes, I'm aware this is basically an advertisement - and to give fair warning, xtracycle's entire site is rather hype-y) is almost paradigm-shifting in and of itself. "90% of car trips do not carry passengers"; sounds ludicrous and wasteful but, look around and you'll see it's true.

In other news, last night my daughter and I watched most of Disney's 1954 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea and I was struck by three things: 1. it's actually a pretty good movie, and we haven't even got to the squid yet; 2. Actor James Mason as Captain Nemo (the first I'd ever noticed the acclaimed actor)* has the exact booming voice that I so loved in "Darkplace"'s Sanchez / Todd Rivers / Matt Berry (huge crush on all three!); and 3. I'll be stealing the lovely Technicolor look for my third issue of Sure Nail & Fire.

* He also co-authored a book about cats! How sweet.

Labels: babies, babysitting, bike, consumerism, film, paying gig

The HQX bike shop isn't somewhere you'd want to be in the case of an earthquake. Or maybe even someone closing the door ungently. I can see pieces of lath and rafter through many holes in the ceiling. Funnily enough even though the business in the rest of the building - one that's been here for 96 years - is closing shop, the bike shop owner is hoping to not move. I guess he's more confident in century-old, rain-soaked and barely-maintained Harbor structural integrity than I am.

After an hour and a half slot - about what I budget for this bike shop for even the most simple repair - I leave with my new bike hooked up to my old trailer, a setup I had heretofore not managed due to the old hitch on the trailer and the new disc brakes being incompatible. I've also learned a bit about bike pieces and a bit more about T., the shop owner. Putting my kids in the trailer I see they are almost bursting the seams - leggy Sophie looks like she's in a frank breech. I am also dismayed to discover just how much drag the little pot-lickers put on the bike, even on a flat thoroughfare in sunny, clear riding conditions. Also: I've spent a total of $59 (gift money) on two new hitches (my bike and Ralph's) and a cable lock (when the bike costs money I tell myself: one car family, one car family...). The ride is nice, despite the new drag factor.

Our internet was not-so-mysteriously connected and the library remains my spot to scavenge time on gmail. I say adieu!

Labels: bike, HQX, library

Today I sustained my first new bike injury. While attempting to strap a cardboard box on my rack (taking a moment to giggle immaturely) the bungee I was using, too short, snapped back and whacked my left index fingernail. I was kind of impressed with how badly this hurt. I now have a nasty bruise under the fingernail and I hope something gross and infected doesn't result. Meanwhile I have Ralph put to work with a Stud Finder (another giggle) to put a hook inside the house for bike storage. Because yes, my bike will be living inside with me.

The local bike shop, I could see myself hanging out there - if I was someone who knew anything about bikes or had more money to spend on them. I have a hard time describing the shop owner T. Firstly, he is a very knowledgeable bike technician and a total pleasure to talk bikes with. Secondly, he is a little bit... different. Personally, I think he's kind of cute but maybe that's because I get inexplicable crushes on focussed mechanical savants who look like they don't have girlfriends. At my parents' last night while I talked about my new bike my husband asked why all bike shop owners are a little odd (he said "weirdo", okay) and I said, "No wait, what about..." and then stopped. Because, well. He was right. I guess there was one bike shop owner in PT that wasn't so much weird as arrogant. But the other two shop owners - woooo! And I had a crush on one of them, too.

Tonight we continued our pleasant weekend experience by a babysitting gift from our friend A. When Ralph and I arrived to pick our children up - after a lovely, lovely dinner at home including uninterrupted conversation - the children were in various states of costumery / undress and watching Ghostbusters (only one of the best family movies ever). On our way out with our two reluctantly-departing children we travelled out the back way to visit A.'s baby goats