A Full Moon Tonight

Speaking of "I SPY"

I spy this:
The letter "f",
A fire engine magnet,
Emperor Zurg's missile,
Four stale cheerios,
A red jingle bell,
A blue crayon,
And a pile of Virtue.

My mom says there are some things she does that don't necessarily need to be done, but that she does anyway; and it makes her feel virtuous. Cleaning under her refrigerator is one of those things. Last year, when she came to help out after Sydney was born, she bought us a refrigerator coil-duster brush. It was put to work then stashed away until last week, when, in a fit of spring cleaning fervor, I pulled it out and went to town. What my mom told me about feeling virtuous is true. No one knows (excepting whoever reads this) that my refrigerator is dirty or clean underneath. But I know. I'd like to pass on that secret good feeling. And keep that duster from gather dust.

So, here is an offer to you local-yokels. The first two local-based people to leave a comment, will get their refrigerator coils dusted and the newly-exposed dirt/refuse pile scrubbed clean. I keep all lose change (anyone I've known since 9th grade and had Rue for Geometry with me is automatically included).

Mt. Defiance

... named such because it defiantly holds onto its snowpack.
Named such because it defies the feeble-kneed. Before today, I was intimidated by this mountain's name and superlative reputation: the tallest mountain in the Gorge with the toughest, most demanding elevation gain (under 6 miles in almost 5,000 feet). Straight up. Really.

It was a muscle-burning, slow hike up. Windy.

When the trail disappeared under the snow, we played I Spy with the surveyor tags and blazes. (Ah! As in, "Where in the blazes are we?!").

We summitted around 12:30, four hours from "go" time. The snow was about 8-9 feet deep at the top; we walked right onto the roof of one of the radio tower buildings. There wasn't much to look at, except each other, since the cloud cover was close-in. And also, the wind was blowing snow all over the place and on top of my eyeball.
This is how we kiss. Always.

Briton hiked Mt. Defiance in July 2003 with two good friends. This is the view you see on a clear day:No one is kissing in this picture. So, I dunno. Clear day, no kissing. Cloudy day, kissing. Pros and Cons.

We flew down the open snow field; leaping and jumping through the soft snow. Once we hit the tree cover again, though, it was back to picking our way over the packed, icy snow and watching for the blazes and ribbons, lest we lose the trail. We had so much fun, pushing our bodies and the sense of accomplishment (for me, anyway) of facing my earlier misgivings. The view of Hood and the Gorge may have been obscured from the top, but for us, we hiked away from that mountain with a clearer view of ourselves and our relationship.

Multnomah Falls

Six kids, age three and under.
Three adults.

Diane invited us on this excursion today. When I asked about bringing two more kids, besides T&S, she said "yes" without batting an eye. That's one reason I like Diane. She lets the fun happen.

Highlights:

Joseph hopping and running full-speed up the steep trail, occasionally turning around and grinning. He was in his element.

The three boys, Talmage, Joseph, and Jed, holding hands every now and then.

Sonya, Syd, and Lila, in their turn, happily jostled in one of the two backpacks.

Deciding it was time to turn around when 50% of the kids started crying.

Looking for my debit card

Packing Them In.

The outdoor adventures and the kids, that is:

Above: Monday's 80-degree-weather-inspired trip to the beach.

Below: A pre-April 15th hiking attempt, foiled by seasonal closure. And no shoes. We'll save you for later, Sauvie Island.
Giddy over the zoo geyser, with friend Max, this past Saturday.

Sunday's walk:

And walk she does!

Restraining Orders

The Bogus was recuperating at the mechanics last week, carseats still inside. This was a problem, because we were now at home and I had tight plans for the morning that necessitated dropping Syd and Talmage off at Honey Jo's - about a 10 minute drive away. What to do?

I tossed the kids in the truck, seeking to secure at least one carseat from nearby friends. I also considered possibly sneaking over to Jo's without one. That drive around the block, with Syd scrambling out of the lapbelt, me elbowing her aside so I can shift, and she trying to climb on top of my head (think "cat in a car"), convinced me of the foolishness and danger of such a plan. Luckily, we found one carseat for her, shifted Talmage to the center lap belt, and off we went. Only 50% illegal (oh. and I didn't have my license... so make that, say, 67%).

My eyes darted everywhere, driving defensively ... but mostly looking for cops. Sure enough, as we pulled up to a stoplight, we came head to head with a police car. I, very naturally, placed my hand on Talmage's head and said (i.e. marshalled), "A cop! DUCK!" "Nose to your knees! Nose to your knees!" Whilst shoving my son's head down with one arm, I put on a patient, innocent, bored-looking face for the officer. In case he was looking. I wasn't sure how long Talmage would think this was fun and sighed relief when the officer's arrow turned green.

Now. To teach Talmage the police officers are our friends.

(for the record: the return trip with the kids was made in The Bogus. In carseats).

Two Lips...

... and some shoes that fit two, too.
(Syd with the girls: Lila and Annika; Sonya was down the lane)

A tractor ride with Di and Jed, T's best bud*;

Puddle-hopping, his pants soaked with mud.

(*A couple days ago, Talmage had spent some time at Jed's house. Driving away in the car, I said to T, "Jed's your friend, huh." To which Talmage clarified, "No. He's my bud.")

Huevos Fritos Con Friton

Gracias por los huevos en nosotros de blogamos basket. Sunday morning saw me smiling wide as I read his take on the week. His secret was out by Thursday. It's a toss up for which caused more anxiety: having to wait to see what Friton was writing, or experiencing the mental clogging of tidbits and thoughts that normally get flushed out here on the ribbity blibbity blog.

Detox Results:
1. I didn't die
2. The minis experienced quality attention; I didn't have to deal with the guilt, like I normally do, for making Sydney scramble her own eggs while I "checked my email"
3. There is no correlation between internet usage and The Wisdom
4. Still no projects finished. But the lawn got mowed, and once, I took a nap with the kids
5. She called EVERY SINGLE DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY.

The First Drink:
Computer on: 8:10-9:07 a.m.
New emails: 62
Number of new emails that were "junk": 25
First email read: From Briton.
Email I wished I hadn't missed: From long-time friend, Sara.
First blog checked: Ribbit.
Then, Goomba Shoe.
Then, Social Explosion.

Things I learned:
1. I feel more "present" with my kids when technology is taken out of the picture. That is good. I don't want them to grow up with their number one childhood memory being "mom at the kitchen counter, staring at a computer screen"
2. The world will not fall apart if I do not check email 5o times a day.
3. I do not need a computer to waste time. I'm really good at finding other ways to do it.
4. I am in *love* with Trader Joe's Greek Style Apricot Mango Yogurt. And Friton.

Huevo Seis Connubial

One apparently spurious explanation for the tennis score called "Love" attributes a cultural handoff/malformation of French's "l'oeuf" (the egg), because the zero resembles the shape of an egg: 0

I'll close my brief stint of stealth blogging along this aspect of the egg theme, begging pardon from those of you wondering if we're not really nearing a cheese-laden holiday (nevermind the "Con Queso Solo" blurb a few days ago...).

.You
Who cracks me up
Who puts Humpty-Dumpty back together again
Who has the creative bloggin' nog'gin
Who is always looking sunny-side up
Who goes the eggstra mile
Who beats me in a peppered game of scrambble
Who lives my moussed eggstraordinary wife

Huevo Cinco Con 3 Amigos

Today was the ward Spring Fling/Easter Party. We gathered for tasty sandwiches and the much-hyped egg hunt. T, J & J continued their fun on the huge lawn running wildly, and of course, crashing!


The keep-the-egg-on-the-spoon race ensued. T saw me do my leg according to the "adult" rules, with the spoon in my mouth. He chose to follow suit, and no monkey business with the egg's safety:

Huevo Quatro Con Junta

Every so often, like today, I make a business trip to DuPont, WA. I was excited this time to go running during the lunch hour --a new work acquaintance there had suggested a nice route down to the Sound and back that he does routinely.

I set out, cut through some woods, ran along a cement plant's fenceline and popped out onto a paved road. I began noticing signs posted every several hundread yards on either side of the road marking the woods behind them: "Do Not Enter. Small Arms Impact Area" Hmhh, I'd never seen one of those before. Eventually a red pickup slowed beside me and a gruff hulk in fatigues started barking at me: "You're not supposed be running on this road. This is a military base. And you're not supposed to have those things in your ears [my iPod]." I was more annoyed with his claim to musical sovereignty. I muttered some self-justification, planning to just continue down to the water. He showed no sign of moving his red (standard issue, surely) truck though, and so I did an "about-face!" and continued back from where I'd come. Lame-o, they never bothered my friend.

On the run back (music playing), my thoughts went to the book I've been reading about 20th century Greece and the military coups, substituting Puget for Aegean...

Huevo Tres Con Queso Solo

As has been blogged before, T will often sing, loudly, to himself late at night in his room, as he makes his own, prolonged, preparations for bed. Tonight through the walls we got a slightly new rendition of an old classic, spurred no doubt by the library book we got themed around the song:

The cat takes the rat
The cat takes the rat
Hi-ho, the dairy-o
The cat takes the rat

The dog takes the cat...

The child takes the dog...

[pause]

The child takes the cow...

The child takes the cow... [again]

The cow stands alone...

Maybe because in the library book, the characters eat the cheese, and hey, the cow does seem to disappear. 'night T.

Huevo Dos Con Deja Vu

This wisdom have I seen also under the sun,
and it seemed great unto me: (eccl.9:13)

I've enjoyed having lunch with the family these last two days, by no especial arrangement--once at home, once at a park near my work. Comparing the two experiences, I'm left to think that it must happen everyday, for they seemed one and the same. Ah, and we see again the wisdom en action!

. T and J running wild in the new green grass
. Golden sun rays and blue blazing skies
. R yacking on the phone with H
. HJ&I (not HI&J) sharing the good stuff
. R not getting to her lunch
. T getting to his sunburn


(I don't have photos of this lunch fun --c'mon, I'm winging it here, but voici some shots of our hike/picnic on Sunday)

(and our neighborhood --it's springtime!)

Huevo Uno Con Sopapillas

tap... tap... "Testing..." tap... scREECH... more onomatopoeias... "Testing..." I admire my wife in many ways. Her detox experiment only adds to the collection. She has no idea yet that I'm going to try my hand at sounding the abacus this week, so barring one of you spills the beads [sic]... she may find quite a little basket of Easter Eggs here come Sunday.

Trick is, now I have to blog. M'oh boy... uh, OK, uh... let's see what happens tomorrow. Yeah. OK.

Detox*

Brenda's post inspired. Then, Hunny Jo's bishop challenged their ward members to not spend any money for a week. Jumping on the bandwagon, I decided to give up something meself for a week: the computer. Sunday to Sunday. This is a test to see if I will a) die, b) pay better attention to the mini-Abacus', c) spend more money as a substitutional diversionary tactic, d) actually finish projects, and e) see if Heather calls more often.

I've spent the past couple hours retrieving every bit of info off of the internet that I could possibly need for the coming week (similar to taking that last giant swig of water before fasting). I warn't no spring chicken when I got my first email account: it was in college (remember "Route Y"?). So, obviously, I functioned fine for many years without the internet. It's just difficult remembering how. Here's to hoping the remembrance returns. And so, with that ... we're fading ..... off .... the .....................rada........r................................................ (*Post title inspired by NN.).

To Sum It Up

1 moss-padded, wooded, sun-speckled trail
2 nd place
3 hour time limit
4 running shoes
5 paintbrushes
6 hours without kids
7 bridges crossed
8 complimentary soup and crackers at the finish
9 :30 a.m. start time
10 minute-mile pace (to #2's 7:00)
11 mud puddles splashed
12 weeks of training

= 13.1 milesAnd a glorious day in Vernonia.