Summer school

The kids never had a chance to anticipate the long, lazy days of summer.  As soon as the bell let out, they were confronted with their rigorous summer schedule of math, reading, piano practice, and, in Clara's case, working on her handwriting.  Every year starts with the same fervor and every year it lasts about ... a week.  What have these monkeys really been up to?

Miles got into gymnastics one morning with Coach Squid.

The Two Talmage's

Cousin Kelli and Dan passed through town.  Our kids kept referring to them as "Talmage's family".  K&D's Talmage is 5.   Talmage felt instant brotherhood with his like-named kin -- a rare occasion for a boy who isn't named Sue.

Talmage had a birthday.  Post upcoming (maybe).

This butterfly was spied in the yard.  It has a tear in it's wing.

A warm, giggly summer night.

Playing with friends -- Talmage and his friend, Isaac N., made these "cool" dry body silhouettes.  Miles has found another way to stay cool (see the behind, above).

One day we went back to that beach along the Columbia.  The older boys rolled a huge log into the water ... and as if that weren't exciting enough ...

... they found a bunch of teeny tiny frogs in the log.  The kids brought three home (illegal?) and set up a habitat for them in an old fish tank.  We suppose one squeezed though the air-holes in the lid (diapedisis is not reserved for baby rabbits, apparently)  because grandma found one hopping around the kitchen the next day.

If you can read the label on that glass bottle Sydney found, you'll see it's a bottle of rum.   And that's a pirate barge in the background.  Yo, ho, ho.

Talmage's first real piano recital.  He did great.  The recital went along just fine until the last half when the older students took over and turned it into an American Idol competition.  Two teenage girls sang angsty love songs with lyrics something like, "I'm in so much pain!"  Grandma turns around and whispers to me, "Me, too."

It's been so, so, so, hot.

We are v.e.r.y. s.l.o.w.l.y. building a house.

On this day, I helped grandpa survey the north line of the property and learned a new phrase.  It is this -- when you are without fancy surveying instruments, you "wiggle into the line" to make it straight.  Wiggling.  Ha.

And that's a summer update for you thirsty readers.

To come: July 4th, All Comer's Track Meet, Etc.  If you can't wait, just go back to 2014.  Same stuff.

Newport Marathon

We left the kids with friends (where, incidentally, Miles would cannonball off the treadmill and smash his head into their wall, shattering the sheet rock) --- and drove down the night before.  Newport is about 2 1/2 hours from Portland.  Oh, and Miles is okay.

Briton.  Leaving the competition in the dust.

Anyway, this marathon was so fun ("how quickly they forget").  Overcast weather and remarkable scenery along the bay and river.  

Caught in a romantic interlude. This is how we really kiss.  The above photo is reminiscent of the "preying" mantis, (pl?) who, as you know, eat each other while ... doing stuff.

Fantastic support crew (L to R): Tami, Heidi, Jean (BQ'd and PR'd), Mark (her husband), me (PR'd), Briton (BQ'd), and Nicole.

Mark (logistics) chauffered us to the start line, was Jean's number one fan, and got Briton's proprietary scooby snacks to him at designated mile what-have-you.  The ladies helped the miles fly by.  No kidding.  They joined up with me at mile 9 or something like that and we talked and talked as we chugged along.  Which was a lot more engaging than the podcast I had been listening to about American expats in China (because I couldn't get Serial to queue up.  Have you listened to it?  Do you think Adnan killed his girlfriend?).

But I digress.  When they peeled off to go find Jean, I looked at my watch and it was already mile 18.  The time went by so fast.   Then I ran alone for a couple miles and that's when it started to get not-so-fun.  Heidi and Tami came back after seeing Jean cross the finish line and distracted me through the painful last few miles by telling me depressing stories (only joking. well, not really).  Another benefit, and I'm not sure if it's cheating in running (it is in biking, I hear), but I used them for a windbreak going up a hill at one point towards the end when the gusty breeze could have knocked me down.  We formed a flying "V".  Just like in the movies.  Heidi, who has one foot in the grave .. practically ... delivered on her promise to whip out a cartwheel when all was said and done.

We all met up for lunch after showers and stuff and compared notes on the race  ("Did you eat the oysters?", "No!  No way!  I didn't eat the oysters!").  That's the fun part, too.

Right up there with being done.  That's super fun.  So fun, in fact, that we should do it again some time.  Like .... in October ...

Clara finishes preschool and is raring to go for kindergarten "in the fall". A picture survey of her emotions over 30 minutes:

Demure.

Goofy (we're 10 seconds into it).

"Being shy."

Excited.

Proud.

Happy.

You did great in preschool this year, Clara.  We love you!

Boys + Dirt = See For Yourself

Something special is going on hare.

I have a little confession.  Up until now, I didn't think I was much of a pet person.

I liked our chickens because I could ignore them and they helped earn their keep with laying eggs.  But they clucked and I worried about the neighbors getting annoyed.  So off they went to the Great Farm.

I liked The Fish at first because it was quiet and I could also ignore it.  But watching a goldfish grow is pretty boring and he (?) wasn't soft and cuddly. Plus, he didn't contribute to the household economy in any way.  Boy.  I'm really hard on fish pets.   Anyway, off it went to the Great Watershed.

I liked Julia at first, too.  She is quiet (silent, in fact) and can be ignored, but she also tolerates being held, petted ... pushed in a wheelbarrow (what fish is going to stand for that, I ask you?) ...  and playing house ...

.

... or dress-ups ...




.. or a game the girls call, "Princess Julia."




 As for earning her keep?  Tonight Talmage and I were greedily calculating when she (we hope) will be old enough to mate so we can sell her offspring.

I liked Julia at first.  But now I love her.  Even if she is a him.

Milo's turn.

Destination: Abiqua Falls

At 0.8 miles, the hiking distance was not foreboding.   IF you could find the trail head, that is.  All the directions we read said it was tricky to find ... and get to, especially if you didn't have 4WD. 

 "But a family car can make it if it goes slow," they said.

Game on.  

Never underestimate a minivan.

Note:  On the way back up the mountainside, as the van grappled for traction, we did find ourselves hoping that when the yellow triangle with an exclamation mark, VSA warning and engine lights came on all at once, that it wasn't something serious.

But let's get on with the Hike Report!

Any time you need to rope up for a hike, you know you've got a winner on your hands.

Clara wasn't convinced at first.  Briton is strategizing how to help her down.

Going up was much easier.

(Have these "ups" and "downs" been confusing?  Quick orientation:  We drove down a mountainside to get to the trail head, and then continued to hike down to the valley floor to follow the river up to the waterfall.  

A sisterly hug, also known as The Choke Hold.

Enjoying the adventure.

Intrepid little hiker dude.

Of course, this photo doesn't do the falls justice.  It was so beautiful.  We were hiking along the river, minding our own business, when, all the sudden, we round a big rock and whammo -- this scene appears:  waterfall crashing over pixilated basalt columns into a huge splash pool.

   On a warm day I will do this hike again and bring a swim suit and/or raft.

And a four wheel drive.

And now, quickly!  Family photo shoot!!!!

What you want to notice in the above picture is the kid on the far left with the large boulder in her hands.

Time to head back.  The lighting was so pretty in the late afternoon, against the mossy trees and clear river.  

Oregon is such a great place to live.