No u-neeguh Herbie.
What?
Well, we went east in September and far east in October. Here are the snaps and the videos.
(Recommended: "Dancing in the Park", "Beijing Opera - Part 1", "Yangshuo Market", and "Cormorant Fishing")
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Hi Lo! Hi Herbie La!
No u-neeguh Herbie.
What?
Well, we went east in September and far east in October. Here are the snaps and the videos.
(Recommended: "Dancing in the Park", "Beijing Opera - Part 1", "Yangshuo Market", and "Cormorant Fishing")
Sunday, September 27, 2009
O Canada
A five-minute photo-video skirmish about our trip to Montreal, Quebec City, New Brunswick, P.E.I., and Novia Scotia:
Itinerary (for our really brave-at-heart readers):
Sept 2-3: Montreal
St. Joseph's Oratory, Stroll through Mont Royal, Jardin Botanique and Insectarium (a hit with the kids), funicular ride up Olympic Stadium tower.
Notre-Dame and her Light Show. Dinner at Bonaparte. They kindly hid our stroller behind a silk curtain and hid us in the back room. We whispered the entire meal. That kind of restaurant.
Sept 3-7: Quebec City.
Lower Town, Musee Civilsation, and a free Cirque du Soleil performance under the freeway overpasses. It was FREE!
Montmorency Waterfalls, my first taste of putine (Q: What's unhealthier than french fries? A: Gravy, cheese, and french fries), fireworks over the St. Lawrence.
Church (in Quebecois; I understood almost as much as Briton), Upper Town, Expensive Ice Cream on Famous Ramparts near Chateau for Demanding Wife, Image on the Mill (this will sort of give you an idea. Sort of.), Talking travel and politics with very friendly lady on bus home.
Sept 1: Albany, NY
Sept 2-3: Montreal
St. Joseph's Oratory, Stroll through Mont Royal, Jardin Botanique and Insectarium (a hit with the kids), funicular ride up Olympic Stadium tower.
Notre-Dame and her Light Show. Dinner at Bonaparte. They kindly hid our stroller behind a silk curtain and hid us in the back room. We whispered the entire meal. That kind of restaurant.
Sept 3-7: Quebec City.
Lower Town, Musee Civilsation, and a free Cirque du Soleil performance under the freeway overpasses. It was FREE!
Montmorency Waterfalls, my first taste of putine (Q: What's unhealthier than french fries? A: Gravy, cheese, and french fries), fireworks over the St. Lawrence.
Church (in Quebecois; I understood almost as much as Briton), Upper Town, Expensive Ice Cream on Famous Ramparts near Chateau for Demanding Wife, Image on the Mill (this will sort of give you an idea. Sort of.), Talking travel and politics with very friendly lady on bus home.
The next day, the kids and I went to the aquarium while Briton spent the morning retrieving the backpack (avec car keys) we'd left on the city bus the night before.
One of several long, scenic morning runs for Briton: this time along the St. Lawrence River.
Sept 7-9: New Brunswick
Playgrounds, Longest covered bridge in the world, hiking and exploring Fundy National Park, walking amongst touristy Hopewell Rocks, where you can observe the 40-foot tide-change.
Drive to Anne of Green Gables Land.
Sept 9-11: Prince Edward Island
Lover's Lane, the Haunted Wood, Green Gables. I was deep into Book Three by now. It was difficult for me to remember Anne was fiction. Even the presence of tacky, parasitic tourist traps could not mar my experience in Avonlea, I mean, Cavendesh. Briton not only cordially obliged me by honoring his pre-PEI pledge to not make fun of Anne of Green Gables the entire time, but went above and beyond the call of duty by taking the time to read the first book cover to cover. A true kindred spirit ;).
Immaculately-mowed, expansive lawns. Lots of them.
Gorgeous sunset stroll in Greenwich over Bowley Pond's floating boardwalk.
Sept 11-13: Novia Scotia
Ferry to Novia Scotia. Drive to Cheticamp - thus to get an early start at Cape Breton. Skyline Hike. Waterfalls. Praising the gas mileage of the Prius when the "empty" gas gauge lit up and we couldn't find an open gas station for 40 miles.
Church in New Glasgow (in English). Toured through That Old Dutchman's cheese factory and talked to That Old Dutchman himself. He makes Gouda the old-fashioned way and has a wry sense of humor.
Back to New Brunswick. Spent the night in the Hampton Inn. They had an indoor waterslide - the twisting, enclosed tube kind. I dutifully took each kid down, which terrorized each, in turn.
Sept 13-15: Saint John and St. Andrews-by-the-Sea, New Brunswick
The Saint John Market is like an indoor, year-round Farmer's market. St. Andrews-by-the-Sea is as romantic looking as its name implies. Even their city water tanks are beautiful. On to Portland. Maine.
Sept 16: Travel Home.
Briton flew out of Albany with Sydney. I explored the Portland, Maine Children's Museum with Talmage until our afternoon flight. Why did B&I fly separately out of different states? It's a long story.
How did the kids do? Both kids traveled exceptionally well. But we were all glad to sleep in our own beds again. And not have to drive anywhere far away for a week (next Post: Trillium Lake).
One of several long, scenic morning runs for Briton: this time along the St. Lawrence River.
Sept 7-9: New Brunswick
Playgrounds, Longest covered bridge in the world, hiking and exploring Fundy National Park, walking amongst touristy Hopewell Rocks, where you can observe the 40-foot tide-change.
Drive to Anne of Green Gables Land.
Sept 9-11: Prince Edward Island
Lover's Lane, the Haunted Wood, Green Gables. I was deep into Book Three by now. It was difficult for me to remember Anne was fiction. Even the presence of tacky, parasitic tourist traps could not mar my experience in Avonlea, I mean, Cavendesh. Briton not only cordially obliged me by honoring his pre-PEI pledge to not make fun of Anne of Green Gables the entire time, but went above and beyond the call of duty by taking the time to read the first book cover to cover. A true kindred spirit ;).
Immaculately-mowed, expansive lawns. Lots of them.
Gorgeous sunset stroll in Greenwich over Bowley Pond's floating boardwalk.
Sept 11-13: Novia Scotia
Ferry to Novia Scotia. Drive to Cheticamp - thus to get an early start at Cape Breton. Skyline Hike. Waterfalls. Praising the gas mileage of the Prius when the "empty" gas gauge lit up and we couldn't find an open gas station for 40 miles.
Church in New Glasgow (in English). Toured through That Old Dutchman's cheese factory and talked to That Old Dutchman himself. He makes Gouda the old-fashioned way and has a wry sense of humor.
Back to New Brunswick. Spent the night in the Hampton Inn. They had an indoor waterslide - the twisting, enclosed tube kind. I dutifully took each kid down, which terrorized each, in turn.
Sept 13-15: Saint John and St. Andrews-by-the-Sea, New Brunswick
The Saint John Market is like an indoor, year-round Farmer's market. St. Andrews-by-the-Sea is as romantic looking as its name implies. Even their city water tanks are beautiful. On to Portland. Maine.
Sept 16: Travel Home.
Briton flew out of Albany with Sydney. I explored the Portland, Maine Children's Museum with Talmage until our afternoon flight. Why did B&I fly separately out of different states? It's a long story.
How did the kids do? Both kids traveled exceptionally well. But we were all glad to sleep in our own beds again. And not have to drive anywhere far away for a week (next Post: Trillium Lake).
[Too bad the video is kinda small here on the blog; lots of photos posted here]
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
One More Down, Two to Go
Every day after work Briton comes home and rips off a link. When they're gone, it's 8 weeks of sabbaticalized vacation. He's been waiting for this for over seven years. He's even more excited than he looks in this picture. (The chain on the right is the countdown for our trip to Eastern Canada with the kids. Thanks, guys, for letting your man-eating guard dog stay at our house while we're gone).
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Sunday, August 16, 2009
"DO NOT ENTER,"
said the stomach.
We've been sick here, in turn, the past several days. Three days ago, the T-ball, who wouldn't turn down broccoli, wouldn't eat breakfast. Around 11 he managed some applesauce and toast (and milk - that was from me, the smart mom). Around 11:30 he wandered over to me and began hurling all stomach contents, including curdled milk. Nothing sadder than a sick kid. Thankfully, he was back to health the next day.
But the next day, Briton came home from work looking peaked. "I think I got what Talmage had." We went to the library for our date, where he excused himself to the bathroom for a long while. He continued to rid himself of his esophogeal and stomach lining once we returned home.
Yesterday, I had a 12-hour work shift. I got up feeling the typical nausea, but managed to eat a bowl of shredded wheat - which usually helps. Before I got in the truck, I found myself fertilizing the groundcover with said shredded wheat. All of it. The big clue that this was not pregnancy-related was that I didn't feel like eating the rest of the day. Returning from an episode around 2:30 p.m., another nurse said, "You look shell-shocked." Not to be disrespectful of my patients with end-stage liver disease, but I figured if I was throwing up more than they were, I probably shouldn't be taking care of them. I've never left work due to sickness before. It was a good call, though. I left a package on the sidewalk of OHSU on the way to the truck and had to stop again on the way home. Once home it was a free-for-all (how many different ways can you think of to allude to "throwing up"?).
Now it is Sunday. I think we're out of the woods. Syd seems to be holding up pretty well and, fingers crossed, has been spared this monster.
We've been sick here, in turn, the past several days. Three days ago, the T-ball, who wouldn't turn down broccoli, wouldn't eat breakfast. Around 11 he managed some applesauce and toast (and milk - that was from me, the smart mom). Around 11:30 he wandered over to me and began hurling all stomach contents, including curdled milk. Nothing sadder than a sick kid. Thankfully, he was back to health the next day.
But the next day, Briton came home from work looking peaked. "I think I got what Talmage had." We went to the library for our date, where he excused himself to the bathroom for a long while. He continued to rid himself of his esophogeal and stomach lining once we returned home.
Yesterday, I had a 12-hour work shift. I got up feeling the typical nausea, but managed to eat a bowl of shredded wheat - which usually helps. Before I got in the truck, I found myself fertilizing the groundcover with said shredded wheat. All of it. The big clue that this was not pregnancy-related was that I didn't feel like eating the rest of the day. Returning from an episode around 2:30 p.m., another nurse said, "You look shell-shocked." Not to be disrespectful of my patients with end-stage liver disease, but I figured if I was throwing up more than they were, I probably shouldn't be taking care of them. I've never left work due to sickness before. It was a good call, though. I left a package on the sidewalk of OHSU on the way to the truck and had to stop again on the way home. Once home it was a free-for-all (how many different ways can you think of to allude to "throwing up"?).
Now it is Sunday. I think we're out of the woods. Syd seems to be holding up pretty well and, fingers crossed, has been spared this monster.
Tri-ing It Out
Sexy Di and Sexy I participated in our first sprint triathlon on August 1st. I've been wanting to do a triathlon for several years now, but decided to wait until I was first-trimester sick to carry out this plan. We followed a strict exercise regimen, which, for me, included a three-week "taper" (i.e. no exercise at all). Yeah. So, I was pretty nervous about the race considering my lack of preparation. I used a Sharpie to write a "baby on board" sign on the front of my shirt - right there over my belly. I thought it would make people feel in awe of me, and also, grant some leniency for looking so chubby in a swimsuit. The only problem, as I found out, was thata) I didn't wear the shirt when I was wearing the swimsuit, and
b) probably 30% of the women there were also pregnant (it was an "all-women's" triathlon with over 1,000 participants). And they weren't making excuses.
c) participants came in all shapes and sizes and were just there for a good time. There was nothing to be self-conscious about.
As they say, Malesh.
The triathlon experience was awesome. I have found my new favorite race. The lake water was not cold and choppy like I imagined it would be (even though the pre-race lit specified it would be a balmy 70 degrees). It's fun to rise out of the lake water, when you get back to shore, like an evolving amoeba and then squish-squish across the timing pad that goes *beeeeeep* as you run down the shoot towards the bike transition area. Spectators line both sides of the chute, cheering all the racers. At that point I had long ago tossed my body image to the wind and let my chubby thighs flop around with freedom and pride.
A friend had informed me, the night before, that "no, you do not have a private changing booth in the transition area." Apparently, people wear the same clothes throughout the race. Just a little FYI there for all of you who are considering a triathlon in your future. I felt compelled to put on shorts and a t-shirt anyway - but threw it on over my wet swimsuit. The bike portion was super great. There are all these rules about keeping so much distance between your bike and other bikes, passing on the right and under a certain amount of time. A monitor rides the course looking for people breaking these rules so he can DQ them. It's serious stuff. Mostly, though, I enjoyed a scenic ride along the river. I spied Heather on the course (she was way ahead of me, burning past someone on the return portion. Uphill) - we let out mutual whoop-whoops of joy.
Then it was time for the run. Oh, my. It might be more accurate to say, "the hobble." My three-week taper did not prepare me for this part of the race. But it was only a 5K, so I hobbled/walked the last bit, drawing on my inner qi for the last sprint down the chute. I pounded across the timing pad to hear the *beeeeeeeeeep* and was done. A volunteer clips the timing chip off your ankle, another tosses the finishers medal around your neck, and someone else points you to the lunch line. We had a great time and are now committed fans of the triathlon. Looking forward to doing an Olympic distance next year. After the baby.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Sunday, August 09, 2009
Tillamook County Fair
We'd heard a lot about the corn dogs out west, so we packed up our wagon Saturday and pushed out to Tillamook for their big county fair. I tripped over the entry fee on the way in (ouch!) and had to wander around inside to find an ATM in order to get my family in (remember to take cash to the fair, and lots of it!). Lots of sights and sounds...
The most exciting event was the DEMOLITION DERBY! Bumper cars, the real deal. Old clunkers, with no mufflers, flooring it in reverse, trying to cream any other car they can find. It is INTENSE to watch --live metal carnage, LOUD engines roaring, tires popping, smoke pouring out of hoods. The local fire department was right there on the premises, and the big red engine would let out a blarring honk when they figured enough damage was done. The few surviving cars would "limp" off, while the big John Deeres would come on and pull away the dead. Then, back in the "pits" we could see the sparks flying off the grinders and the blue flames of welders working as the teams tried to resuscitate their poor war machines for the next heat... amazing. Just ask T!
In the end we never ate a corn dog (Robin had a corn zucchini thing which was very good), but we sure drank some sweet summertime.
The most exciting event was the DEMOLITION DERBY! Bumper cars, the real deal. Old clunkers, with no mufflers, flooring it in reverse, trying to cream any other car they can find. It is INTENSE to watch --live metal carnage, LOUD engines roaring, tires popping, smoke pouring out of hoods. The local fire department was right there on the premises, and the big red engine would let out a blarring honk when they figured enough damage was done. The few surviving cars would "limp" off, while the big John Deeres would come on and pull away the dead. Then, back in the "pits" we could see the sparks flying off the grinders and the blue flames of welders working as the teams tried to resuscitate their poor war machines for the next heat... amazing. Just ask T!
In the end we never ate a corn dog (Robin had a corn zucchini thing which was very good), but we sure drank some sweet summertime.
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
Friday, July 31, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
OK!
Just want to jot down a little Sydney-ism for memory's sake. Her vocabulary is really starting to take off and she's learning how to communicate. She's got this little trick to get what she wants. It goes like this...
Syd (pointing to the jar): Cooou--kee
Me (validating I heard her): You want a cookie?
Syd: O-K!
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Syd's First Hand at Waffles
(and my waffley hand)
This morning Syd and I were the first ones to arise, so we teamed up to make waffles. She stood next to me on a stool, peering into the mixing bowl. Her excitement grew as she turned upside-down the measuring cups and spoons laden with curious powders and crystals. We were certainly up to something. I was relishing this productive daddy/daughter time, thinking I was a pretty cool dad... yeah... yeah...
The eggs were fun, and the electric beaters magical. The iron hot and ready, I took a metal spoon and scraped the sides as I put the finishing touches on with the beater a whirlin'. I don't know how I let the spoon get caught in the spindles, but the beater sure didn't like it. It began convulsing beyond my control when beeiirrrr!! --OUT shot one of the spindles! and I managed to shut the thing off. Syd was crying. In that split-second episode, waffle batter had sprayed EVERYWHERE within a 6 ft radius (ie. the kitchen), the bulk plastering my poor daughter's face. She'd been machine-gunned with goop. So much for the cool dad.
This morning Syd and I were the first ones to arise, so we teamed up to make waffles. She stood next to me on a stool, peering into the mixing bowl. Her excitement grew as she turned upside-down the measuring cups and spoons laden with curious powders and crystals. We were certainly up to something. I was relishing this productive daddy/daughter time, thinking I was a pretty cool dad... yeah... yeah...
The eggs were fun, and the electric beaters magical. The iron hot and ready, I took a metal spoon and scraped the sides as I put the finishing touches on with the beater a whirlin'. I don't know how I let the spoon get caught in the spindles, but the beater sure didn't like it. It began convulsing beyond my control when beeiirrrr!! --OUT shot one of the spindles! and I managed to shut the thing off. Syd was crying. In that split-second episode, waffle batter had sprayed EVERYWHERE within a 6 ft radius (ie. the kitchen), the bulk plastering my poor daughter's face. She'd been machine-gunned with goop. So much for the cool dad.
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
Tallying 'em up for Tal
Today, on the way to T's first dental visit, I thought I might prep him a bit on what to expect:
Me: We're going to the dentist. The dentist is going to clean your teeth.
Tal: Like Lowly Worm.
Okaaaay. Prep session over. He was remembering this pic from one of his Richard Scarry books.
Talmage did really well at the dentist and walked away the proud owner of newly shiny teeth, a car from the toy chest, a goody bag of dental gear, instructions to stop flouride now and start flossing. It all endeared him to dental visits forever.
Other Tally-ISMS:
Dad: Where does honey come from?
Tal: Bees!
Dad: Where does syrup come from?
Tal: Grasshoppers.
Dad: Where does peanut butter come from?
Tal: Werms!
*****
Me: (having just read an article about sextuplets) What if you had five brothers and sisters exactly your age?
Tal: No. I have one.
Me: Who's that?
Tal: (ask a dumb question): 102's.
*****
Tal: Choose your favorite animal.
Me: (tossing one out there): Monkeys.
Tal: Nope. Bats.
Me: (oh. right. bats. my mistake.)....What's yours?
Tal: Mine is a big, big black snake. He was huge, huge, huge, huge. He was my favorite.
Me: We're going to the dentist. The dentist is going to clean your teeth.
Tal: Like Lowly Worm.
Okaaaay. Prep session over. He was remembering this pic from one of his Richard Scarry books.Talmage did really well at the dentist and walked away the proud owner of newly shiny teeth, a car from the toy chest, a goody bag of dental gear, instructions to stop flouride now and start flossing. It all endeared him to dental visits forever.
Other Tally-ISMS:
Dad: Where does honey come from?
Tal: Bees!
Dad: Where does syrup come from?
Tal: Grasshoppers.
Dad: Where does peanut butter come from?
Tal: Werms!
*****
Me: (having just read an article about sextuplets) What if you had five brothers and sisters exactly your age?
Tal: No. I have one.
Me: Who's that?
Tal: (ask a dumb question): 102's.
*****
Tal: Choose your favorite animal.
Me: (tossing one out there): Monkeys.
Tal: Nope. Bats.
Me: (oh. right. bats. my mistake.)....What's yours?
Tal: Mine is a big, big black snake. He was huge, huge, huge, huge. He was my favorite.
Monday, July 06, 2009
Friday, July 03, 2009
Thursday, July 02, 2009
Of Fun and Fudge Bars
Hillsboro takes the summertime cake. Free community events abound. I like free. Today the kids explored the "5 Senses" stations at the library, played at The Outpost, then chowed down on their free lunches. We only went home when heat and fatigue intersected. After naps (Syd and I; T played solo), we three engaged in day three of a new summer tradition: fudge bars. One for me. One for you. Another for me. Another for you.
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
Through the Cat Door
Briton's modesty and young Sonya's innocent eyes were saved by a cat door yesterday morning.
There is a small laundry/utility room between the garage and the hallway, with a door on each side. Courtesy of prior homeowners, the door to the garage side has a cat door made of clear-glass. This has come in handy in the past when coming and going because you can see if there is a kid on the other side, lest you swing open the door unawares and smash them into the laundry basket. It came in handy yesterday, too.
I was getting ready to leave for the morning. The kids were waiting inside the car. The main garage door was open. Briton has just come back from a morning run and was in the laundry room. As I walked into the hallway, Briton comes darting out of the laundry room, slamming the door shut behind him. "There'ssomeoneoutthere!"
He'd been taking off his sweaty running clothes, and was removing his shorts when he'd spied someone's legs through the cat door ... just as that door started to open. Hence the hasty exit from the laundry room. I went out to investigate. There was Karren, holding Sonya. They'd come to fetch Sydney.
I explained what had just happened and we burst out laughing, while Karren averted Sonya's eyes from what could have been a horrifying moment. For all of us.
There is a small laundry/utility room between the garage and the hallway, with a door on each side. Courtesy of prior homeowners, the door to the garage side has a cat door made of clear-glass. This has come in handy in the past when coming and going because you can see if there is a kid on the other side, lest you swing open the door unawares and smash them into the laundry basket. It came in handy yesterday, too.
I was getting ready to leave for the morning. The kids were waiting inside the car. The main garage door was open. Briton has just come back from a morning run and was in the laundry room. As I walked into the hallway, Briton comes darting out of the laundry room, slamming the door shut behind him. "There'ssomeoneoutthere!"
He'd been taking off his sweaty running clothes, and was removing his shorts when he'd spied someone's legs through the cat door ... just as that door started to open. Hence the hasty exit from the laundry room. I went out to investigate. There was Karren, holding Sonya. They'd come to fetch Sydney.
I explained what had just happened and we burst out laughing, while Karren averted Sonya's eyes from what could have been a horrifying moment. For all of us.
Postscript on Cali and Cauli Soup
Canoeing/kayaking, the guys in charge of cooking dinner each night, family history for family home evening, fierce ms. pacman competition, wheel of fortune game with family lore as theme, casual chatting, a hike, morning running, all-cousin birthday party, making tye-died t-shirts, hot tubbing, a last-day wandering through Legoland, and no one said the "f-word." A successful family reunion, on all counts. See you in 2011.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)