MT. BIKE OREGON
AND SOME
HOWARD PRAIRIE CAMPING

While Mick spent a three-day weekend with his brother at Mt. Bike Oregon, which they planned five months ago, the kids and I spent a three-day weekend at Howard Prairie, which we planned five days ago.

I can vaguely report that Mick came home exhausted and happy (maybe he'll post his own blog?), and I can specifically report that the kids and I came home exhausted and happy as well.

Howard Prairie on Lake Hyatt is just a half hour out of Ashland - 17 miles out Dead Indian Memorial Road. (The kids and I think this is a sad and lonely name - and when we learn why it's called that, we'll report back.)

We arrived at noon on Friday and scoped out a coveted LAKESIDE spot and spent the afternoon kayaking and swimming on the lake and doing a little bike riding through the campground. The kids also got to do a little jet skiing.

Dane admired the jetskis of the family on the beach next to us and the dad came over and whispered to me later that if my boy wanted a ride on the jet ski, he'd be happy to take him. He wanted to see if I was comfortable with that. He and his wife and baby and in-laws were totally wholesome and warm and I told him my kid would think it was awesome.

So, both Dane and Aubrey took rides with Chad on his sit-down jet ski and squealed and steered and smiled the whole 10 minutes of each of their rides. I just stood on the beach smiling and thrilled for them.

Other than the jet skiing highlight, we woke up around 8 on Friday and took a ride in the kayak together on a calm morning lake. I paddled the sit-on-top and the kids each sat on an end, dragging their feet through the water.

Later that morning, we took a six mile bike ride on a trail part-way round the lake and had a blast. Dane just zipped ahead - but always made sure to stop at decent intervals so we didn't get separated for long - and Aubrey used those little knobby tires like a pro, saying things like, "I think we should go the whole way round the lake!" (it's 15 miles) and "Mom, I'm mountain bike riding!"

We stopped at one point at a place like this:


I didn't have a camera with me and I didn't have a piece of paper or pencil, but I memorized the moment -- the scene, the scent, and especially what my boy said -- because it about melted me into the ground.

He stood there really still, squinting at the landscape, and said - speaking with this sort of cadence where he lingers on his key words (I'll emphasize them for you):

This place is a beauty.
You've got your tall trees growin' over there...
You've got this great big lake here...
You've got all this green grass growin'...

Then a slow, audible sigh.

Yeah, that about sums it up, I think.

Later, after a return ride, where Aubrey handled herself like a champ (her chain came off at least 8 times, and she only broke down to cry on about the eighth time), some friends joined us.

Here's some Chix in the Stix with our Pips:

Girl pips.

Grubby Mom feet.

Chix on the beach.

Boyz In the Hatch.

CONDITIONED

When I ask why he's rubbing conditioner all over himself in the bathtub, Dane tells me, "Um, the bottle says it's for extra body."

Box R Ranch Trip as told by Dane

So, on the first day, I was at the YMCA for the beginning. We packed up all our stuff and we took a long time for us to go there, and then we were driving there. And in the middle of the drive the girls bus stalled - it's true - and they had to wait there for an hour.

So, we took all our stuff into the tipi and we set up everything. Everybody had their own spot for their clothes and sleeping bag. I was with Keller, William, Ben, Isaiah, Jorge, Carson, and Mason. My camp counselor was named Tucker. I didn't know any of them - except I met Keller at a birthday party once - before I went to camp.

We went to sleep in our tipis and then we woke up for Polar Bear Swim. It was warm, but the water slide was cold and we weren't allowed to do the zip line. This was at 6:30 in the morning. And then we started rotations.

One of the rotations was going swimming again; another was art; and the last was sports. The next day we did archery. And I was not that good. So, there was hay and a target. And in the target there was a yellow, black, green, and a red and yellow. Yellow was the bullseye. I got the worst ever. Wanna know why? I got two in the hay and one in the white. But it's still my favorite thing.

On Wednesday we did a campfire. We roasted s'mores and they were yummy. It was a very cold night so it was nice doing that. That night, it was actually kind of raining.

Every night there was skits. There was a really good skit. This wasn't my group - and it was cows with guns. And my group did the midget exercise once -- we were midgets and we did exercises and stuff. We weren't in midget mode but we put shoes on our knees. It was a funny play. One of the counselors said, "So far, that's the best play."

Then there was the broncin' barrell. It's an awesome barrell ride of sorts. You'll have to see when we go. It's freaky -- I know how to work it, though.

When I was going there, I thought it would be a giant box with an R on it and it would have a bunch of ranch dressing in it. It's true. But it was really a giant ranch.

Every morning, I just put on clothes. I didn't care if they were clean or dirty. *

I want to go back next year!

By Dane Reynolds



*Note: Mom here. This is true. His duffle bag had many clean clothes in it when he returned. I think Dane wore the same clothes 3 days in a row -- underwear included.

What are we going to do with her?

My fart smells like barbecue chicken. -Aubrey, age 7

DANE COMES HOME TODAY!

Aubrey's been counting the days. Well, the hours and minutes, really. Hope Dane has some great stuff to tell us. Karen's right: he should post a blog giving everybody the scoop.



On another note: R.I.P., John Hughes...

My generation grew up on his stuff. Personal favs: Sixteen Candles, Breakfast Club, Say Anything, and She's Having a Baby.

Loved thinking about marriage and love through Hughes' eyes with that last one - I always think of the scene where there are complications with the delivery and Kevin Bacon's crying in the waiting room to a Kate Bush song. Gets me every time I even think of it.

But now that I write that, I think Say Anything is the serious winner - with John Cusack hoisting that boom box up over his head...

BIKE BALLS

Quote of the Day

Aubrey, riding her bike into a curb, yells, "Ow! That hurt my nuts!"

BOX R RANCH

Guess who's heading out on his first week of overnight camp? And guess who gets to sleep in a tipi, hop out of the sack early for Polar Bear Swims, shoot arrows from a bow, and stay up late round a campfire?

That's right. Little Roscoe's headed off to YMCA camp. Aubrey's been telling him every ten minutes for the last two days that she misses him already. He's been packed and ready to go since Friday.

The rest of us will stay home and wish him well -- we'll also surprise him with some gooshy lipsticky HoneyBoy Reynolds mail so he can have the full camp experience. Of course.

Click here to get the lay of the land.

.

MERKIDS OF ASHLAND

REMODEL UPDATE

There's a lot of info I could leave here, but I'll keep it short since I'm going on week six without a kitchen. The tilers are laying slate tiles in the laundry room and kitchen today and tomorrow. Then we have to seal it, which will take another 3 days to fully dry. I might be able to install cabinets before that, but have to make sure nothing gets the floor wet or too dirty.

It's going to look amazing. It's taking a lot of patience.

Navel Contemplation

You wanna know what's good about inny belly buttons? You can hold water in them. -Aubrey, age 7

DANE LEAVING A PHONE MESSAGE FOR HIS BUDDY

Um, hi? This is Dane? And I'm, um, home today? And I'm wondering if I can have a play date with Avery? [Pause] That's all I'm really wondering about. [Pause] The End. [Pause] Um, goodbye. [Pause] I hope I can see Avery today. [Pause] Okay, bye.

R.I.P., Frank McCourt, with your angel on the seventh step.
1930-2008

Angela's Ashes was an inspired gift to his readers -- and was the subject that saved me when I wrote my first Masters paper. I met him in 1999 at the Associated Writer's Program conference in Buffalo, NY. I was giddy when I met him and told him I'd written my first grad school paper on him and the Angel on the Seventh Step. He was quite sweet in his response when he said, "Well, you probably know more about me than I know about myself."

Aw... May the road rise up to meet you, Frankie M.

ANYBODY STILL READING THIS???

Whoa... Took a long blogging break -- settling into life with no kitchen (four weeks now), teaching Sticky Slippery Messy Mix-y Textures Camp at ScienceWorks last week, and traveling north to Astoria for a writing workshop and south to San Francisco for King Tut -- so I'll just ease myself back onto the scene with this mini-update:

We went to Britt Fest last night and had front row (FRONT ROW!) seats to the Cowboy Junkies. Here's Dana and me with our new best friend, lead singer Margo Timmins:

Father's Day is soon and I'm too busy to blog, so I've pilfered another great article from e-Horizons:

What about Dads?

“Some of my favorite childhood memories from when I was a kid in the 1960s were the mornings when my dad would let my mom sleep in and he would make breakfast and get us off to school. He would pull whatever he could find out of the refrigerator (jello, cake, etc.) and serve it to us. My mother would have died, but we never told her and we loved it. I felt especially attached to my dad on those mornings.”

The role of fathers has changed and evolved since this example. Today there are single dads raising children, same-sex dads, dads who are primary caregivers for children while moms work, grandfathers actively involved in grandchildren’s lives, and on and on. Fathers are playing increasingly active roles in their children’s lives. Some roles might be considered traditional (e.g., coaching the soccer team) and some less traditional (taking care of a newborn when mom returns to work). All are good and important. The influence of fathers in children’s lives is critical; however often the pressures on dads also to be primary breadwinners takes precious (and necessary) time away from parenting. How does a dad balance these competing demands?

What we know:

Fathers are key in their children’s lives. Research shows that father involvement leads to positive outcomes for children. Children want close relationships with their dads and they want them involved in their daily lives. At the same time, when there isn’t a father in the family, children are resilient. Sometimes an older brother, grandfather, uncle, or friend can play a fatherly role.

Dads should be allowed and encouraged to have their own unique relationship with their child(ren). This relationship will not be the same as the mom’s relationship with the children, but it will have its own unique strengths and qualities. Regardless of how far we have come, sometimes societal messages around gender roles still make dads feel secondary in parenting or primarily responsible for discipline. This is not true. Men are just as able to nurture children as women. Fathers’ relationships with their children matter to both the child/ren and the dad.

Dads should look for chances to have one-on-one time with their child. Another name for this is “special play time.” During “special play time,” your child gets to decide the activity or activities for a set amount of time with no interruptions for phone calls or outside conversations. Your job during this time is to follow the lead of your child in what they choose to do as long as it is safe. Special play time is as sacred as any appointment on the calendar. You plan ahead for it and follow through (e.g., 10 – 11 a.m. every Saturday morning). Your child will come to count on that time with you, even if it is only once a month.

Children want to know about you and about your life. Teaching your child a skill that you know (e.g., gardening, cooking, or carpentry) is one good way to spend time together. “Hang-out” time, where you could play in the park, rough-house, or read together, for example, is also very important. It is often after “hang-out” times that children can feel connected and start to talk about what is really on their minds.

Remember that dads are key in children’s lives. Your relationship with your child matters!

STILL MOVING - will be back to blogging soon

fyi: Last year on June 15, Mick graduated with his DDS degree. This year on June 15, we'll be fully moved into our very first house as homeowners. Hooray!

note: We're remodeling the kitchen. Yes, I've seen The Money Pit - or was it War of the Roses? Whatever. We'll just keep putting our best foot/feet forward and take on the adventure.

pix: Will post them soon.

ttfn...

Just in case you've been confused
about the password...

RUSSIAN NINJA prompts our Quote of the Day

You know what I always think about: When does he ever get tired??? -Dane, age 8


Check out this amazing video. Then guess who's signing up for Gymnastics again...

College Pal Weekend

So, in 2003 we started getting together every summer for a Chicks in the Mountains backpacking and camping trip. We'd shoot for a couple days in the mountains outside Bellingham, hiking among the lupine, swimming in alpine lakes and cooking tinfoil meals over a mini-camp stove. The last couple of years had to be scaled back a bit, though, due to pregnancies, babies, and dental school graduations.

Considering that, I'm not sure what our excuse is this year. But I DO know that I'm flying to Seattle tomorrow to meet up with my old college roomies from Western, 1991-1993, and I'm taking a ferry to Anderson Island in the Puget Sound to spend two kid/spouse-free days with my girls at someone's generous uncle's house.

We've got Chara-Chachi, Maureen-Mo-Mims, Shelby-Bug-Bugger, Michaela-DJMik-Mitchella, Jenny-Fiffer-Farquar, and, yours truly, Anjie-Zhay-Netty.

I wish I had more pictures on my laptop of all of us, but, alas, I don't. Nonetheless, here are a couple photos of me with Shelby and Maureen in Skagway -- when we wore our eyebrows thick, our shirts big, and our pants too high.

Vive le nineties!

Here, have a good laugh: Awkward Family Photos. And don't neglect the older posts on the site. One of our favs? The Lenscrafter Family...

WE'RE ON MICK TIME

We're moving into the new house on Mick time -- that means sleeping in 'til 10, two trips to Noble Coffee, and buying a BB gun at a garage sale before shuffling a few boxes into the garage.

Good thing we have until June 15, but I'm guessing that'll come fast enough...

Ever since Dane was a baby, I've been getting these e-family updates from Bright Horizons. The topics range from how to encourage children to share, to how to road trip with the kids, to what to look for in a childcare provider. Given my recent post about Earth Day, of course I was happy to see this article cross my Inbox.

The Importance of the Outdoors in Children's Lives

Millions of children are only allowed outdoors with close supervision. In many areas, even the backyard or front stoops are viewed as perilous. Many children come home from school and watch television and may learn more about nature from television shows such as "Survivor" or "Gilligan's Island" than from the workings of their own backyard — that marvelous ecosystem teeming with life. They may know more about exotic animals on the Discovery Channel or farm animals on PBS than the snails, squirrels, birds, worms, and bugs that live outside their windows.

Daniel Janzen, the world’s foremost tropical biologist writes: “Here's what nature does for us no matter who we are or where we live...Human animals carry around this big brain, this big device for processing input. Part of our ability to use that device depends on the complex stimuli that challenged it throughout our evolution. Nature — whatever is out there, from a single tree to a whole forest — provides a big wad of the possible information that we can process. If you diminish nature, you diminish the diversity of those stimuli. When we don’t get input from nature, we don’t end up having much sense of smell, hearing, or vision. Television becomes our reality. We can survive on that and do, but it is not nearly as complex…When we diminish nature, we turn off lots of things in our own heads…Over the past 10 or 15 years, I’ve been bothered by the fact that Americans think that they’re getting nature through TV — all those shows that bring the elephants and tigers right into the living rooms. This Musak nature destroys the reality of people’s experience outdoors. When they are actually in nature, it’s disappointing, because the big spectacular stimuli aren’t coming as fast as they do on television...” (Gallagher, W. The Power of Place: How Our Surroundings Shape Our Thoughts, Emotions, Actions. NY: Simon and Schuster.1993, p.206).

Whether or not your child learns to love the outdoors boils down to priorities and will. The purpose of life is, after all, to inhale and to live it fully and reach out eagerly without fear for new experiences. Open the back door. Walk through a park. Get out of the car. Our children deserve our effort.

BIG NEWS

This might come out of nowhere for some of you, but Mick and I are signing on a house today - and it's supposed to close on FRIDAY!

We've kept things hush-hush since we started looking in January, especially because there can be such drama in the negotiation process, but things seem to be coming around fine and THIS LITTLE BEAUTY will soon be ours:

Workshop out back

Living room - which I plan to have more fun
optimizing than the previous tenant

Dining room

And here's the realtor's write-up:

Warm and inviting 3 bed/1 bath Cape Cod style home with new marmoleum flooring in the kitchen, hardwood floors, spacious and updated bath with custom tile, bay windows, formal dining room, wood shutters, and stone walkway. The .16 acre corner lot with R-2 zoning, private backyard, separate studio/workshop space, deck with arbor and potential for additional unit are additional features. Located close to schools, shopping, farmers' market, parks and bike path!


One final note - our family will LOVE biking and walking all the time in this area. It's in a great, flat location close to town. Additionally, the kids will be able to walk to their elementary school, middle school, high school, and even college if they want to!

Of course, I'll post more pictures after we move in and get settled - and will include other rooms in the house as well as the back yard (which feels like "the secret garden" and has trees and swings and benches and hiding places and good spots to choose from for a hammock).

An Award!

I can't believe it. I was nominated for this award -- I have no idea who nominated me -- and won it! I wish I could post the news clips straight onto my blog, but I'll just have to settle for this link for now: Woohoo!

Q & A with Super-Mom

Dane asked me the other day why grownups grow hair on their private parts. I told him that was an excellent question and that I think he might just have found his Science Fair topic for next year.

hahahahahaha... Can you imagine??? (We thought that was funny.)

And then, of course, I told him a theory about caveman days and keeping warm and said we could look up real answers later.

Yeah, I'll get right on that...

A ROUNDABOUT WAY OF SAYING WHY A HOMESCHOOLING LIFE OFF THE GRID IS LOOKING PRETTY DARNED GOOD RIGHT NOW

I started my day by dropping off hand sanitizer in the kids' classrooms. But, hang on, I'll get to that in about 542 words.

By nature, I'm not a worrier.

I come from a long line of non-worriers. We don't fret, flap or kvetch. Ask my friends. They'll tell you they've never seen my mom worry about me in all the years they've known me. She may have been strict at times, but she never worried about me once I was actually doing something potentially worrisome -- over-nighting at camp for a week as a first grader, driving tour buses in Alaska across the Yukon, traveling solo in Europe, flat broke with two kids and waiting for Mick to get into dental school -- you get the picture.

Likewise, I don't worry much about my kids. But, like my mom, I do know how to play it safe: my kids can bike, heely, skateboard, and ski - but they have to wear their helmets. They can climb any tree they want - but they have to keep good heads on their shoulders. They have to be able to figure out how to go high but come back down on their own, and how to recognizes branches that'll hold, and those that'll fold. (Dane just got a good lesson in that one (mentioned in Ode) - but, see? I didn't worry. And I'm only barely worried that I should.)

But this Swine Flu business has my snout in a wad. With international travel being so prevalent, group activities so big (the potentially cancelled Bloomsday race in Spokane comes to mind), and first grade classrooms such petri dishes, I'm feeling like we're all a little vulnerable.

Last night I told my kids there's a bad flu going around to different countries, states, and cities (never mentioned the words pandemic, or life-threatening, for that matter). Told them to make sure they didn't exchange sneezes or coughs with other kids and that they washed their hands when they thought to.

I didn't realize I was so touchy about it, but when Dane faked a pout this morning and said, "You mean I can't play with my friends?" I got a little werewolfish on him. You'd think the moon had gone full when I barked, "Of course you can play with your friends!" Grrrr...

It took me a second to check myself - isn't it amazing how fierce love can be when you realize you're scared?

"Ugh, I'm sorry," I conceded, retracting my claws. "Of course I want you to play with your friends. I just want you to be safe, maybe just consider germs a little more than usual."

See, I can say these things to my kids. They don't obsess about germs or danger. They just kind of file stuff like this away and pull it out when they think to. That's why Dane took a second kicked ball to the jaw as goalie last practice and took himself out for a few minutes. Doctor said Dane's trouble opening his mouth without pain to his ears, and the sore muscles in his neck, meant his jaw was slightly sprained, but he'd be able to eat hard foods again in a couple days.

"You gonna keep playing soccer?" the doctor asked.

"Of course," Dane said, eyeing her like she was a little bit off.

"Goalie?" she pressed.

"Well, yeah...!" That's as close as he gets to a "duh."

That night, Mick advised him not to take any more shots to the face (ha ha) and showed him how to hold his hands a little higher and closer when anticipating a shot.

"Okay," Dane said. "Got it."

So... I took two containers of hand sanitizer to school for the kids' classes today. Whoa. I was not prepared for the teachers' responses.

One, my favorite teacher there, said it was against school policy to use hand sanitizers in the classroom because studies were inconclusive about the way chemicals affect the body. I said I had a problem with this, considering a flu pandemic was imminent. Hello? Level 5 out of a 6 level warning system and we can't have a little hand sanitizer in the classroom??? Teacher agreed. Her solution: put it in Aubrey's cubby and she can use it on her own hands all day. Okay, that sort of works for me -- although it doesn't address the germs all the other kids are mucking around in...

The other teacher didn't really know why it would be needed -- she hasn't really been following the news, but when I told her a few details (four new cities in Washington suspect it, various places in California, I could go on...) she said she was happy to let the class use the big bottle of sanitizer, and put it in an accessible place. Bless her heart, she didn't fuss about school policy, and she said she'd heard maybe it hadn't been diagnosed in Oregon because we might not have the resources or maybe people weren't coming in to be checked. Then she joked about wearing little pig snout noses to school tomorrow. "Wouldn't that be funny?" she asked. I smiled, a little caught off-guard, thinking, "Um, not really...?"

So, this is a long, roundabout way to come to my point: I feel a little vulnerable, in this unsuspecting pocket of America. I feel like we're being given some warnings, but everybody just feels really safe - even though a kindergarten girl returned from Mexico on Sunday and her family hadn't even heard of the ordeal when they were down there. They heard about it Tuesday after they'd just been hanging out in Ashland for a few days.

I hate to say it, but I'm worried. I'd love to simply handle all this by holing up in a cabin in the woods, with a spare room full of canned food, and homeschooling my kids for the next couple of months. Maybe even the next couple of years, since a recent news report suggested the threat might go away in the heat of the summer, and come back with a vengeance next fall.

Don't even get me started on my lectures to Mick about using hand sanitizer in his dealings with the public in his clinic. And you'd better believe I'm pushing the face mask...


Some additional info to consider if you've read this far:
Hand sanitizer hoax
Hand sanitizers need 60% alcohol to be effective

SWINE FLU AND OTHER BUGS THAT NEED A CURE

That poor little boy in Texas. Two years old, from Mexico. I feel awful for his grieving parents, for his grieving and frightened community. What a tragedy.

With Swine Flu possibly sweeping the globe, his fate - and the fates of everyone else potentially infected - is in the forefronts of our minds. The spread of Swine Flu not only brings up the vulnerability we have as human beings who can catch disease from each other, it also brings up a glitch in our current health care system.

A couple springs ago I wrote an essay that aired on the radio, about a life-threatening experience we had with Aubrey in the hospital. With her health and welfare hanging in the balance, and no money in the bank to afford medical bills, we were able to get free emergency and hospital care, thanks to our government.

That experience taught me that I believe all children - and really, all people - deserve access to health care, without the fear that they'll be sent into financial ruin.

That experience helped me personally understand these significant glitches in our current system:

*Studies show that when people wait to see if they can get by without paying a doctor, waiting and hoping the health condition will blow over, they actually end up spending more of their money - or the public's - by using the Emergency Room when the condition worsens. All people need to be able to see a doctor without fearing financial ruin.

*50% of all employed Americans don't have sick days. That means a lot of people are going to work while they're sick, and spreading infections. All people need "sick days" so this sad and ridiculous practice can end.

I just found out that insurance companies are backing a conservative push to avoid nationalized health care. I think this is a huge mistake. I'm not picking on conservatives here, I'm actually furious that insurance companies are pulling the strings -- I'm asking that conservatives look at how our current health care system still leaves poor people poor and without access to a basic human right to seek and obtain health care for the ailing; it also leaves the middle class in a bind, paying out of pocket or going into debt beyond their means.

I know for a fact that most dental student families while we were at UoP utilized California's health care benefits for their children and for pregnant mothers -- where would they have been without this?

Our government is seeking solutions to a crazy problem in America, and to let insurance companies set the tone seems ridiculous to me. We need to take care of each other. We need to care. We need to make sure everyone gets a fair shake - at least in the area of health care, a basic human need.

And, if that's not self-focused enough, people should at least look at it in terms of self-interest: do we really want co-workers coming to work with a fever, or food-handlers serving meals with a cold, or cashiers handing out change if they're at work because they can't take a sick day?

The current national health care dilemma hasn't been adequately resolved. Why don't we give this administration a chance to put the brightest minds, the most experienced people on it? Why kowtow to insurance companies? Why not try a solution that gives everyone access to the health care they deserve - regardless of economic or other status?

JUST DIGGIN' THE DIGGIN'

Apparently, it's nice to use a little baking powder when you're out digging with the cousins on Spring Break - in case you're wondering what the white stuff is.

Of Cherry Blossoms, Horse Pastures and Fish Eggs
A MODERN MAMA'S EARTH DAY MINI-MANIFESTO

I grew up in what I realize now was an unusual housing situation. Not because I lived with my mom after my dad left -- lots of kids experienced that, especially in the 70s -- but because I lived in one of six four-plexes built off a dirt road on a ranch in Tacoma, Washington.

Furthermore, the units were filled with single moms raising their kids in this loosely dependent little community -- because the landlords were rancher-jewelers with tremendously good hearts and wanted these moms and kids to be able to afford to live.

Most of the kids were boys. For five years (maybe more?) my best friends were these boys. I had best little girlfriends at school with whom I coordinated dress-wearing and Leia buns so we could play Star Wars on the playground, but at home I was all about ripped jeans, ratty tennies, a hooded sweatshirt, and pitch in my hair.

My afternoons and weekends were spent climbing the fir trees that lined Pipeline Road, tree sap gumming my braids and my fingers, as the boys and I raced to the tops, higher than the power lines. I'd go in at dark, smelling of bark and needles and dirt. I'd also smell of dust and hay and machinery oil.

The landlords had a barn. They kept a few horses that roamed the hillsides fenced strategically around the backs of our four-plexes, and we were free to roam the fields since the horses never seemed to mind us, chomping lazily uphill from us, silent as sedated patrons in a cocktail lounge.

We'd run through the fields, breathless and dusty, tripping on mounds and holes in the uneven earth, rolling in the weeds -- dandelions, daisies, thistles -- alternately tumbling out of our falls like expert gymnasts, or flying and landing flat as pancakes, stunned by the hardness of the ground and the sense of our internal organs flattening into mush in the shells that were our bodies.

Once, at one of my younger points in the fields, I ran through a patch of the most lovely green and furry looking bushes I'd ever seen. It was a hot summer day and I was sure they'd cool me, refresh me, like cherry blossoms on thick branches in the spring, like deep puddles I could ride my bike through in the fall. In fact, I convinced my visiting cousins to run through with me, and, yes, of course you already know this: they were nettles. They were biting, stinging, piercing nettles that lit every inch of our bare skin on fire, which was a lot, since we were in shorts and t-shirts. We ran down the hillside ablaze, only to find no real cure at home, except maybe a skin-washing. I had to just sit around and feel it, along with my cousins' piercing scowls.

That's what Earth Day is to me. It's that reminder that we should be outdoors, getting into mischief with our friends. Feeling the sun, the sap, even the nettles on our skin. Viewing the world from treetops, hilltops and barns.

I've barely mentioned the barn.

Our landlords used to let us roam freely among the oily, dusty machinery and crates, stored for decades in their big red barn. We could hide, climb, creak around on the ground floor or in the loft, cobwebs stretching sticky across our foreheads, stamping horses snorting warm breath up our way when we'd lower straw into their troughs.

Earth Day is all those senses and more. It's community and discovery and time and curiosity and dreaming and play. It's what I hope my kids have when I open the storage shed and let them grab rakes and shovels and trowels, and set them to digging along the side of the house -- between the grape vines and our neighbors' flowering pear tree. I want them to dig in their half-inch increments, discovering clay-rich soil, perfect for carving out army trenches, moon craters, and a route to China. I love hearing them out there at 7 a.m. on a Saturday, their first thought not having gone to cartoons and TV (because we don't have that) but to what in the world were they going to discover that day. Their voices are husky, rushed, companionable: "You dig there and I'll dig here! Let's see if we can make our tunnels meet!" And the scraping, scratching, toiling begins.


It's why I want my son to come limping in after he's discovered a certain kind of branch is too weak after he's fallen from up high in the cherry blossoms, onto the wood fence and into the neighbor's yard. Of course I don't want injury. And I don't want unnecessary risk. But I do want exploration and discovery, and a kinetic understanding of nature. The more you figure out, the more you've been in it, the more you feel at home in it.

Which leads, of course, to taking care of it. It means understanding we should walk or bike to school and all other nearby destinations, not polluting the air with exhaust, not digging up mountainsides for coal, or drilling coastal reefs never before touched by human hands. It means turning off lights and machines when not using them -- and using them less by being outdoors -- so we can dam fewer rivers, allowing ancient (yes, ancient) species of salmon to make their ancient treks from ocean to river source as their ancestors have done before them.

When I think of those salmon, I think of my children, who started as little fish babies in my womb. I want them to take the treks I've taken, and our ancestors before us have taken: the romps in the fields, the swims in clean rivers, the falls from tall trees. I want them to come into shelter at night, smelling of earth and air and bark, layered in grime and sweat and cherry blossoms, and live like they care about everything that exists on this planet.

SISTER PICNIC BENCH

Two weeks ago it was sleep-falling down the stairwell; this week it's tripping up the deck and face-planting into the picnic bench. Come on, Aubs, we love your dainty little schnoz. Let's keep our focus here...

P.S. HAPPY EARTH DAY, EVERYBODY.

EARTH DAY and A MONTH OF MORBID MONDAYS
Now, if that's not tantalizing, I don't know what is...

Earth Day First
So, let me give a mini-blip about Earth Day so it's sure to cross your radar: Think Green Tomorrow!

Our family's contribution is to leave the cars in the driveway all day (we try to do this a few times a week anyway, but tomorrow we'll really be intentional) and walk, bike, or ride mass transit!

Along with that, our day will be especially exciting because we're biking to our friends', the Zooks, for dinner -- where we'll meet Robert Laporte of EcoNest and discuss the Cob-building project the kids will do with him at a ScienceWorks demonstration on Saturday.

Those are just a couple things we're doing. Needless to say, there are lots of ways to be green and I'd love to hear 'em. Drop me a one-liner in the comment box and let me know how you will be green for Earth Day!


Next Up, A Month of Morbid Mondays
Okay, so now that I've gone green for a few minutes, let me go grody. If you can believe it, I can't stop thinking about Halloween and this little curriculum I'm dying to pitch to ScienceWorks. Here's what it would look like (it still needs tweaks, but I'm just getting started):

ScienceWorks presents A Month of Morbid Mondays

When: October, Mondays, 6 - 7:30 p.m.
Where: ScienceWorks Hands-on Museum
What: A Month of Morbid Mondays

WEEK 1 - SCARS, SCABS AND SCARY FACES

• Learn how make-up artists create disgusting visual effects
• Practice making convincing scars and scabs on yourself and others
  

WEEK 2 - WITCHES BREW AND FROG STEW

• Learn about famous literary concoctions, from Macbeth's Double Double Toil and Trouble to Harry Potter's Love Potion
• Dream up your own list of nasty ingredients and pen their secret spell
• Make revolting recipes from the Creepy Cuisine cookbook -- food that looks disgusting but tastes divine
  

WEEK 3 - MUMMY-MAKING MADNESS

• Learn the legends and myths surrounding why the ancient Egyptians embalmed the dead
• Learn how ancient Egyptians embalmed the dead - and make your own m-m-m-mummy
  

Obviously, I have more to develop -- like:

*What kind of mummy will they make? Will it be some kind of doll wrapped in gauze? Will they wrap each other in toilet paper and recycle the material later? Will they write little skits based on legends they've heard?

*What kinds of materials will we need? rubber cement and make-up for the scars? face paint? corn syrup and red food coloring for blood? hard-boiled eggs, green olives and red food-coloring for a plate full of bloodshot eyeballs? (yes!)

But this is where it all starts, folks. Feel free to help me tweak it if you have any ideas or experience here. Oh, and I envision a class full of up to a dozen 6-10 year-olds, each alongside their "adult."

Mua-ha-ha....

Ode to Frog, Bird and Sun

A Struggling Writer-Mom's Journal Entry

April 20, 2009

Ok. Again. I seem to really be resisting writing. What's going on? Is my life too simple right now? I don't buy that. Look at the simple lives Thoreau and Emerson made for themselves. And Emily Dickinson. Too simple isn't a cause. I think that perhaps I'm shying away from sitting and thinking. Shying away from observations, from writing about that noisy little frog in the algae-ridden puddle of a pond outside my bedroom. That little frog with the large gravelly voice. I shy away from writing down such observations and the way they make me happy with the sun warming my knees while I write with my notebook across my lap. There we go. That's what I haven't been writing *croak croak* and it's what I've been dying to write.

I've never caught a frog. I don't think I've ever even spied one in the woods. I've let a friend hand over one of those clammy, sticky creatures to globe up in my palms, but I've never had the joy of discovering one myself.

This little fella sounds awfully close. Like if I took about eight steps he'd be under my toes or hopping up them. But I tried looking five minutes ago and he was silent as a clam and hidden from view.

Maybe I saw tree frogs in the wild once. On my own. In Costa Rica on my honeymoon. They were bright red. And bright blue? I don't recall.

Now I hear these marvelous birds. There's a little scraping noise this one makes as it moves from branch to branch. Yesterday the kids and I saw a blue jay holding a giant yellow worm-like bit of food in its mouth. It flew low from one shrub to the next, but gave up on it. We were laughing because we kind of think it's a pair of candy bunny teeth (like squishy upper dentures) that the Easter bunny left in our back yard last week. We found one gnawed-on candy wrapper, sitting on a railroad tie step. Maybe the critter that opened it didn't actually eat it. The bird ended up ditching the candy in the ivy, too.

We watched a blue jay earlier in the week seeking twigs for a nest in the red blossom tree. I don't know the tree's real name -- that's the best I can do for now. Besides, the point is: this marvelous little creature was testing the weight and strength, we supposed, of various twigs and straws and grasses. We watched him/her hop and test, finally choosing a three inch long pale twig and zip up to the tree where we're so happy s/he's making a nest.

At least it's sunny around here. To think that six days ago it was 30 degrees and snowing, followed by hail pellets the size of beebees, is just nearly unbelievable. I don't like Spring snow. I like heat and sunshine and warm breezes. Thank goodness I believe we've turned a corner with 70 degrees all weekend and promise of 80s and higher the rest of the week.

Maybe my inspiration for writing is aligned with the sun. Now that I can see and feel it more, perhaps my words will hit the page like the sun's rays hit my skin.

ZUMBA QUEST 2009

Today I'm bound and determined to figure out how to get Zumba classes taught at our YMCA. The Medford Y holds them, but so far Ashland hasn't even heard of them.

What is Zumba? Here's what I know: it's a killer, fun, calorie-burning dance workout that my friends in Washington and Tennessee LOVE. L-O-V-E -- the way I love to eat whole jars of frosting. Huge, huh? And wouldn't I love to have a great substitute for THAT passion? (For the record, I haven't bowed to the canned frosting gods since October.)

THAT'S what I want.

So, here's my approach for the day:

1- Call the Ashland Y director to find out if it's even on her radar. (Done. Left message.)
2- See if the Medford teacher could swing a couple classes a week in Ashland.
3- See if I need to get myself into a Zumba Instruction class. I just found the instruction class website, and they're taught all over the nation - but the May classes for Issaquah, WA, and Tigard, OR, are already SOLD OUT! There's a Bend, OR, class June 6, and it's not full yet... We'll see what I have to do.

The only sticky point about that third option (teaching) is that I'm out of shape and I've never actually done a Zumba class! Ha! Oh, and it costs $220 - but I think I could recoup the damages there if I went through with it.

So, I'll keep thinking through this as I head out for my first Pilates class at the Y, my first Pilates class in about a year. Youch...

FIRST THINGS FIRST: Last Month's Poll

A big hearty thank-you goes out to the eight voters who weighed in on my poll. Yes, all eight of you -- you know who you are...

Essentially, the big issue was whether to have each kid play two sports this spring.

What we came up with:

Both kids are playing pony league baseball - coach pitch, everybody bats, no one keeps score, everybody wins - ON THE SAME TEAM. Easy-peasy so far. Practice two nights a week, a game on Saturdays. In the next week, one of those practices will become a game and eventually the second practice will get dropped. This goes on until June 4.

The clencher: the coach knows the kids will miss games in parts or as wholes - and is a-ok fine with it. After all, Ashland Little League prides itself on being flexible, in the interest of kids simply getting out and playing sports.

Cool.

Aubrey will still do a gymnastics class once a week at the Y. Soccer conflicted completely with practices, and that turns out to be okay. She loves gymnastics, and baseball and soccer might've been too busy for her.

Dane plays on the Y's soccer team - same team as last fall. They've changed their name from the Dangerous Jedis, though, to the Oregon Outlaws, in case you're following them. He's delirious with joy. Seriously, the boys are giddy out there on the field, and their skills are leaps and bounds improved over last fall. It's totally exciting.

Soccer practice is two nights a week - one practice overlaps with baseball, no sweat for either coach if he misses - and a soccer game on Saturday. This goes on into late-May.

Cool.

What last Saturday looked like: Dane soccer game 10am - 11am; both kids played baseball 1pm - 3pm. Full day, but manageable. And if it ever feels unmanageable, we just choose one to miss. No biggie.

Cool.


Next Up: Watercolor project

When Mick was gone for a long weekend at a dental convention, I found this neat looking watercolor project I wanted to have the kids do. They did it.

Aubrey made a couple sheets of the flowers and added some text:



Dane tried the flowers, but was unhappy with the result, so he broke away and went for a Halloween scene:

He's way into mummies lately (notice the little guy under the tree) and has been researching them in his Mummy Club that he set up at school with some classmates. (Aubrey joined, too.) I walked into the classroom one day to drop something off and found him and four pals reading a Magic School Bus Pyramids book out loud to each other - they didn't even notice me standing behind them because they were absolutely riveted.

Here's the link to Dane and Aubrey's current favorite mummy information site, if you have an interested kid at home: Discovery Kids - MummyMaker.


Last Up: Cooking

The kids concocted this dish (I'll avoid putting an adjective before it, letting you be the judge once you read the recipe!). They kept meticulous notes as they put it together, so you, too, can enjoy this, um, cake, if you ever need a new baking idea:

3 t. salt
Just a little under half c. sugar cane [sugar]
3 dabs of haf n haf milk
3 t butter
1 Lime sqwees jusie out
8 spoons of flour

Bake at 350 for an indeterminate number of minutes.


We all tried a bite. 'Nuff said.

SISTER STAIRWELL

A rustling sound
Sunday night at 10:30, Mick was asleep and I was using the computer in our bedroom, when I heard a rustling in the hallway. I wasn't sure which kid it was, so I called out something like, "Hey... Dane? Aubs? Who's out there?"

The next thing I hear is Aubrey FALLING DOWN OUR STAIRS.

I leaped out of bed -- Mick did, too, even in his grogginess -- and bolted down the stairs to find Aubrey standing, crying, disoriented, with a quickly swelling nose.

She wrapped herself around me, nose bleeding, just sobbing. I think she was still half-asleep, too.

Trip to the E.R.
I took her to the Ashland Hospital E.R. where they checked her over for broken bones, a concussion, and possible kidney damage (the chance of that looked really slim, but she had a small abrasion/bruise on her back in that region, so they just covered that base). I have to say, it was unnerving to discuss whether or not to do a CT scan to test for a concussion - with Natasha Richardson on the cover of PEOPLE magazine hanging in the magazine rack right next to us.

Aubs was pretty unsettled that whole time, crying unless she was asleep. But I had to mostly keep her awake until 1 a.m. when we were finally cleared to leave. After that, she slept next to me at home and I had to wake her for a response every hour to make sure she didn't have a concussion.

What exactly happened?
Aubrey tried to remember the event, but mostly she says she remembers just that the hall was poorly lit (yes, we're leaving MUCH more light on now IN the bathroom) and that she thought she was turning into the bathroom doorway - but basically went an extra step and turned down the stairwell (yes, we're getting a gate from a friend tomorrow). She doesn't remember falling, and doesn't really remember me carrying her upstairs to get a good look at her. She DID seem really groggy and sleepy.

Sleepwalkers
She and I are hard sleepers. My college roommates used to get a kick out of talking to me when I'd randomly wander out into the living room holding two different shoes in my hands and asking where everyone from the party was. I used to wake up COMPLETELY disoriented in that moment, with a a couple of creepy roomies howling at me. Mick likes to raz me, too, when I sleep walk and talk to him, asking him questions that have no basis in reality.

Oh, yeah, the stairs...
At least 12 stairs, hard wood with a not-so-soft secured runner, and a stone tile landing at the bottom. You can actually see now on Aubrey's nose where a line/bruise crosses her bridge -- probably where she actually contacted a stair. Poor girl...

It could've been so much worse.

I'M POSTING THIS ON BEHALF OF MY SWEETIE-PIE FRIEND SHARI FROM DENTAL SCHOOL (pictured at right with her husband Richard in June of 2007)

She sent this tonight:

As many of you know, my Sister Julie was diagnosed with Breast cancer in 2004. She had a mastectomy, chemo and radiation. We thought she was in the clear, but in June of last year she found a lump deep in her back and had it checked. The cancer had come back. It was Stage 4 cancer and it was found in three places, our worst fear. Now, after nine months of chemo and many procedures she is in remission, although we do not know for how long. I can't express how this feels as a sister and a family. We lost our mom to brain cancer two years ago, March 22.

Since the first time Julie was diagnosed with Breast cancer, she has had the dream of participating in the Cure for Cancer 3 day walk. This is a 60 mile walk over three days. Thousands of women and men come together, each raising $2,300 for the Susan G. Komen for the Cure and the National Philanthropic Trust Breast Cancer Fund. Then they will take their commitment to end breast cancer one step further and walk 60 miles over the course of three days in Scottsdale, Arizona on November 13-15.

We do not know how long Julie has or how long she will feel well enough to participate in this walk, but she has asked me to walk with her. "This is our chance" Julie said to me on the phone. I feel her excitement and would love to participate in this with her. I am writing to you now because each participant must raise $2,300 to be able to walk.

Clearly, this is a lot of money, but together we can join in this fight to cure cancer. Please help us if you can. To learn more about this walk and how it works please go to www.the3day.org. In order to donate, click on the donate tab and then enter my name, Shari Michaud, as the participant. My group is Breast Jordan Buddies. Any amount is appreciated and I thank you so much for your support.

With great love and appreciation,

Shari Michaud

JUST CURIOUS

Let me know what you'd think this meant if you heard Dane and Aubrey making these sounds:

chuck-chuck-pooh
chuck-chuck-pooh
chuck-chuck-pooh

Most interesting guess wins a prize.
Closest to correct wins a prize.

MR. HAYDN COMES TO LONDON
(and Queen Anne)

Journey with The Classical Consort as they journey to Haydn’s London to commemorate the Haydn-Year (200th anniversary of his death). Explore the impact of England’s musical haunts on the songs, sonatas, and chamber music of Europe’s most genial composer. A colorful 1820 Broadwood pianoforte—the same model owned by Jane Austen—will be the featured guest at this celebration.

The Classical Consort: Karen Elizabeth Urlie, soprano (at right), Tekla Cunningham, violin, Meg Brennand, cello, and Tamara Friedman, English fortepiano

Start Time:	Saturday, April 4, 2009 at 8:00pm
End Time:	Sunday, April 5, 2009 at 3:00pm
Location:	Queen Anne Christian Church
Street:	1316 3rd Avenue West
City/Town:	Seattle, WA

Phone:	2067266088
Email:	info@galleryconcerts.org

HoMe AlOnE

Mick's headed to Portland tonight for three days at the Oregon Dental Association (ODA) convention. He gets plenty of Extended Learning credits, so that's great. He also gets to hang out and drink lots of Stumptown coffee, so more power to him! In the meantime, the kids and I will stay here: they'll go to school, I'll write, they'll have ball practice, I'll take 'em, we'll bike, we'll walk, we'll read, etc., etc. We'll miss Mick, but somewhere in there we might just do this Spring art project and desperately hope the weather warms up:

I randomly found this blogger and I like her ideas.