Today a rather cold, dismal rain sneezes on us and my children and I miss a deadline because I invite them to participate in cleaning the living room - while I relax with a book. Some days it's just not in me to come home to an overly untidy house. I can always rely on the wee ones to do the chores when I've got a good carrot in front of them (as opposed to the lash behind them). Today's carrot: a field trip to the Fire Department and a book event at the Library.

Those who watch my family interactions know that I am more patient with my son Nels than my daughter Sophie. I chalk this up to wisdom regarding my secondborn and folly on the part of my first. Try as I might I find myself expecting far more out of Sophie, her lot in life to sport the unfortunate trifecta of firstborn / girl child / less dominant personality, my son seeming younger, more of a known quantity, easier to feel relaxed about raising. The last few days my son has severely tested even my reserves of patience for him, however. If I wasn't his primary ally (in contrast to Ralph and my mother, who tend to scold and shame) I'd be doing far worse in applying compassionate care.

Today's field trip was a pleasant one, despite a long slog in the rain to get there. Since I'd spent a few days out of the classroom setting I was struck by the extremely well-intentioned series of commands, reprimands, and seemingly unnecessary restraints vested in the manners requirements of our small group of preschoolers ("Say thank you, Johnny!" "What do you say, Johnny" - at one point my son duly reciting with a smile, "thankyouthankyouthankyou" like the most winsome parrot). The nine or so kids are allowed to look but basically herded in a don't-touch-hardly-anything walkthrough that seems to me not so much cruel as baffling. I sat back and watched because, really, everyone was having a good time. Internally I found myself laughing at the thought that these massive, extremely rugged fire trucks would be treated like china glass - to hear the words of the accompanying adults. Perhaps I wouldn't have been struck by this if I hadn't been on far more hands-on and lengthy fire station tours. The fireman leading us through was an attractive, doe-eyed gentleman obliging the many questions of the children (half of them flat statements, like my son's brilliant "Um. Hospital bed." contribution) and a few of the parents (volunteering a younger man to slide down the pole for our edification).

My son and daughter had a spry attention span and asked many questions. Besides my son's flat statement above he also found it necessary to revisit the concept of the paramedic's oxygen - "The air that blows, it's to help you breathe and put energy in your body." At this I quietly wiped away tears as I knew his two comments had everything to do with what he watched his grandfather go through late August (as likely did, now that I think about it, Sophie's answer to the query, "What does an ambulance do?" "It carries dead people." - prompting a jolly laugh from the group).

Some of the events I've always loved about the life of children - especially when I was one - were trips like these, being taken out into the community to see how bells whistled and levers clanked. I truly feel blessed that my life allows not only for me to send my own children off on these adventures, or bring them to them, but a re-appreciation for the simple wonders of the daily existence.

Labels: Aberdeen, municipalities, on foot, rain, school, weather

This morning when my daughter finally woke up she entered the living room with a barking cough and clearly stuffed-up nasal cavity. Momentarily miserable (the mornings are always the worst for head colds) she flopped on the couch, accepting offerings of kitty cat and blanket. I'm having trouble along the same lines myself and thus bagged my bike trip to the preschool today. Best to keep sick children quarantined.

Mondays are small domestic happenings in that they're the days we go off and buy groceries for our week. Our grocery needs are mostly across town. At the fruit stand (where it sometimes seems "everyone" shops) I purchase the weekly veggies and let the kids each choose their own fruit (tropical fare today: a mango for Nels and handful of kiwi for Suse). I'm looking forward to tonight's meal: paghetti squash with basil, feta, and tomatos, blanched beets with bleu cheese dressing. We have local apples at home, waiting for inclusion in salads, turnovers. I buy a few pears for our cupboard and the fruit salad I'll be making at the Deli on Friday: give them a few days to ripen on the shelf (the secret is to not one time even touch the pears as they make ready). With my weekly allowance I can buy a few niceties that make the week so enjoyable: licorice, dark chocolate for Ralph, goat's milk, garlic powder, nutritional yeast.

From produce-buying back to the library where my children pick their books and I pick a few for them (The Paper Bag Princess, a hefty Dinosaur encyclopedia, and Batman: The Sunday Classics 1943 - 1946). The rain has, finally, sadly hit our November; I'll be back up and bundled on the bike as soon as our colds clear up.

Labels: grocery opus, homesteading, illness, Sophie, weather

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

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

This morning a girlfriend told me it wasn't until just now that the weather here started getting to her. "Last night I was listening to the storm and thinking, 'I shouldn't be hearing this!'"

I feel the same. I'm ready for sun or at least - I'd settle for warmth with an absence of rain. First of all, the fact I bike most everywheres means that rain really sucks. I don't have to just rainproof myself but my children and my groceries and my paperwork or whatever else I'm transporting. And then I have to go inside buildings soaking wet in vain hopes to hang eight layers of clothing up to dry before I go again.

Let's put it this way: If I was to look at the weather, I'd give it this face:

Labels: i'm a hater, weather

Today I spent most the day on my bike and on the beach. I know this sounds nice and all, but it was very hot for me (HQX reached 93 and considering last week we still had winter chill I guess I just wasn't ready). On top of this the bike trip with my mom was harder than I'd thought it would be. In my tube-top dress and bright red face under a bike helmet I wasn't exactly getting wolf whistles, in fact I'm sure I made a few lads puke in their mouth a little bit.

Our beach trip was lovely. Friends Mikey and John picked Sophie and I up at 3:30 and we hit two separate beaches toting water and sunscreen as backup in the van. On the shore John repeatedly braved the waves while I watched my daughter over and over running into and out of the surf. After dinner and ice cream we journied home and hit the barely-cool house just prior to 9 PM. Quite a day for both Sophie and I and I count it up to my Good Mommy my daughter's skin remained entirely free from sunburn.

Labels: beach, friends, HQX, roadtrip, Sophie, weather

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

I'd been saying easy come, easy go with my gardening efforts but I won't lie: it was a bit of a disappointment to view - on the morning before the last frost date for the area - the crispy terrain in my backyard covered with ice. My broccoli starts reproachfully eyed me with their mouths open in frozen death screams. Well who knows, maybe something will have survived.

Another rather silly thing is that I'm actually one of the charter members of the Community Garden this year, and I can't really grow a thing. I'm going to be helping the grade school kids with their own garden plot. So that's even more excellent: planting tender flower shoots, say, only to find them next week brown and sad and dead. "Hey kids, failure is a natural part of life so let's learn about it!"

I'm really hoping I get some help from a Master Gardener.

Labels: garden, sorrows, 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

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

I've been reluctant to write much about my hours spent in my children's schools, but the fact is I spend a lot of time with my children in their educational environments and I think about those environments a great deal. Today I performed my Monday morning shift in Suse's kindergarten class along with a substitute teacher. I was surprised to find the typically well-behaved twenty plus children suddenly turn into rowdy, loud, inconsiderate pupils. And like some kind of virus, the misbehavior was not able to be contained by the substitute nor even a little speech of my own (listened to respectfully at least).

Sophie's teacher impresses me because she has established control of the classroom. Her first few weeks of class were spent almost solely on behavioral issues, the benefit of which is that almost two dozen small children typically experience a safe and ordered environment. But as I herded them into their lunch line today it occurred to me that staying in the public school system meant - besides the occasional luck of a great teacher - my kids would probably have many, many days like this one - an atmosphere of chaos above order, busywork above engagement, admonishment from adults rather than curiosity, expecations, and mutual respect.

My Monday work is typically in helping children with an art project. The time and energy that goes into each project is incredible, yet I notice in the classroom setting each child typically doesn't have enough time to carry out the project in a way that informs him or her in their own interest and skills (or lack thereof). Because of this time constraint my favorite art project this year was an uber-simple project of picking out clippings for magazines (high school assistant J. and I pre-cut animals from National Geographics) and gluing three of them to a piece of paper divided into sections. In this case the project was simple enough I got to talk to each child about their choice of animal and layout; an artistic and relational growing process in my mind far superior to the sometimes more elaborate products we produce by giving curt directions and doing half the work for the child.

Any discussion about my children's school environments isn't nearly so much a criticism of the system or a worry about my children's experiences as it is a learning experience for me. I think it's a sign of my deferment to authority I've always believed school is a given establishment that is for The Good and therefore is itself Good - that is, sometimes children misbehave or have a horrid time there but, all in all, The System Knows Best (P.S. I know exactly which parent I co-opted this concept from). It is so odd I find myself realizing the system is, well, relatively arbitrary. Do I have the courage to think for myself what I want for my family and myself when society around me has been encouraging me to take advantage of the free babysitting provided by the state?

It's lighter in the early morning hours. I have learned Spring weather in Grays Harbor is capricious, at turns sunny and brilliant, ominous, or dismally wet. The thrilling rains of Fall have given way to the saturating showers of spring, keeping our backyard wet, wet, wet in the interim before the sky opens up again.

Labels: GH, school, weather

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

This weekend found us at my family's cabin* up near Shelton:


It was beautiful, cold and clear at Mason Lake (note: "Little Hoquiam" where my great-grandfather settled with friends!) for all three days.


My knitting + rustic decor. I also sewed Suse a pair of pants with a cute, but horrible-to-work-with, polyester woven I bought years ago.


A state of such permanency the label my grandmother made lives on and on. There's also a box marked, "Whiskers Nails & Armpits" (for razors, fingernail clippers, and deodorant, natch).


"Let's go to town, kids!" On Sunday we hit Olympia in part to take Ralph's guitar to Music 6000 for an expert opinion. At the Blue Heron Bakery we had a picnic of our own home-made sandwiches followed by cookies, coffee and tea from the shop. Let me tell you something: in my entire coffee-drinking career I have never taken a coffee back for being too bitter, but I had to in the case of the Heron's americano. I asked the barista if there was a mistake or ...? After coyly pouring a bit into his own wee cup the be-mustached, fey young man replied, "Yeah, that's pretty much what our espresso tastes like." Feeling like a puss, I switched out for a drip coffee which smelled faintly like hippie feet (I am not kidding nor exaggerating) but tasted fine enough. The cookies were great and the Garlic Kalamata Sourdough loaf was divine.


Sadly, during our lunch someone joked about eating the "top cookie" (that is, the cookie in the top of a package of five identical cookies) and the teasing was taken quite seriously by my son before we could convince him that yes, the "top cookie" was reserved for him.

As for the sweater: this is the least feminine thing Nels wears these days. His sister's a good sport, sharing her clothes with him.

Last weekend, my school friend Jodi visited along with her husband Doug and their children Cyan and India:


Sophie sat in the stroller and chronicled our gray stroll - down the highway and to a greasy spoon for soft-serve ice cream. Nothing but the best for our treasured guests!


Did I mention we in Hoquiam are sinking into the earth? Now I know why, growing up, people who met me out in the world would ask if I had webbed feet.


This was actually quite brilliant: the four children found a Connect Four game at the local coffee shop / popcorn factory and immediately began playing the game differently than intended. Without any noticeable communication (although children this age together can develop a monkey-language of their own) they'd fill up the board with alternating colors for each vertical row. Sophie, Cyan and Nels instinctively worked together at a high rate of speed while India (the youngest at 2) just did what the hell she wanted and the older children would either firmly grasp and re-direct her paw or, if she succeeded in dropping a color out of sequence, quickly retrieve the offending gamepiece and secure it. After a while the chore of catch-India-before-she-fucks-it-up got old and Cyan and Sophie started broadly hinting that maybe "someone" shouldn't play anymore.

* Built by my great-grandfather back in the day; shared by hordes of extended family now.

Labels: coffee, food, friends, knitting, Nels, Sophie, vacation, weather

Grays Harbor Wind Storm - The Hogaboom Report from ralph hogaboom on Vimeo.

Seriously, I will love Shannon for the rest of my life with how much she thrilled Nels during this. As she was pulling Allison (her own daughter, the first child you see "stranded") Nels got the biggest, and I mean biggest grin and started crying out, "Shannon, Shannon, help me! Help!" and was like the girl elected as Homecoming Queen when she went back for him.

Labels: film, friends, Nels, Ralph, weather

My daughter's croupy cough continues. The Hogabooms eat three healthy meals daily and get very good sleep at night; during this week as we wait for Ralph's job duties to resume we take walks in the chill and administer meals to those without power (two other families, last night). Meanwhile our local paper makes sure to report the various dramas (we did have three examples of smash and grab / looting - in a county of 36,000) while neglecting to cover in any detail the tireless work of emergency personnel and the PUD / Bonneville workers to which we owe our relative comfort.

Otherwise, P.S., a storm is just boring. I have discovered I only like sitting around doing nothing when there is the option to do other things. Our blackout provided for a lot of reading, a lot of snuggling, a lot of cooking and cleaning, and a lot of singing and playing guitar. On the second day I finally picked up a book many friends have recommended to me and in the last day and a half have thrown myself into cooking dishes therein - the basic beans, banana bread, chicken coconut soup, caesar dressing, 24-hour chicken stock (which had the benefit of feeding my cats and the 93-year-old neighbor's kitties with tender chicken goodness scraps), homemade cream cheese and whey, and sprouted almonds (for apricot bars). This morning I even started the day with a whey tonic (surprisingly refreshing), feeling silly and hippie-ish.

Tonight: sci-fi family movie night and yes, I'm looking forward to it.

Labels: family life, food geekery, weather

This morning at 1:15 AM our power came on. I woke up, lay in bed and thanked God (it had been three full days), then got up to re-arrange my fridge (we'd packed all into the freezer with ice bags and I would now have to re-rescue the food from the other end of the temperature spectrum) and start some laundry. Last night my daughter had kept me up with a croupy cough. With the candlelight and lack, completely, of anything to do when the darkness fell I was starting to feel like we were living a throwback existence.

It took me a while to get to sleep after our lives suddenly were put back to normal in a snap. Life had become very different. We'd started marking off our days in terms of experience (the first day was "Novelty Day", then we were on "Ice Day" and heading into, "OK, Now I'm Really Cold Day"... Thursday was slated for "Shit-Water Day" and frankly I'm glad we missed out on that).

My parents arrived over about 8:30 for heat and breakfast as their power, like so many others', has not returned. Their well-insulated house had finally achieved the outdoor temperature. My father is especially sensitive to cold as a side effect from his platinum-based chemo. To his credit, he hasn't complained once. This morning I cooked honey biscuits and broccoli quiche. In fact we've been eating well enough, because there's not much else to do except think about what to cook and how to cook it. Last night I succeeded in a homemade pizza on top of my gas insert.

Hoquiam's west side is fully up and running. Minus many fences, pieces of roof, trees, and skipped school and work days. Ralph's work servers are still down and I know many around the county are still suffering cold and wet and some major property damage.

Labels: family life, rain, weather