Double Dog Dare

Summer is officially over, and tomorrow commences a new season. But, before summer packs its tank tops, shortens our days and flip flops out the door to let fall rush in, I bring you one last bastion of summer.  A follow through on a dare from my friend Paula at Stuff I Tell My Sister.  It was a double dog dare that we turned into a double triple – three of us, three times.

If you are like the 17 yr old I asked to take our pictures in Round One of this dare, a teen who ever so subtly rolled her eyes when I asked her to snap the shots, as if to imply that ‘duh, old lady, yes, of course I know‘, then you will know what planking is. But if not, she did indulge me and snapped away while we adjusted knee caps, ribs and other ‘parts’ on the uneven surfaces of gorgeous, but oh so unforgiving, granite boulders so that I could make good on this dare and bring you proof of having carried out the planking promise I made to Paula.

TRIAL RUN

First up was a test run with the junior member of our planking team – (there are different ideas of proper form in planking, and we opted with the one you see here) -  and you will see a slight faltering in his form – hands and feet should not be touching the surface, but his face is correctly nose to the grindstone, so he gets points for that.  He did move on to the first round of the finals and served as mentor to our other planking amateur.

–ROUND ONE–

Judges rank of the plank:  so so. Those hands should not be waving, we need to see some superman action here.

And, you know what they say, the family who planks together,
stays together. .

Family wins ROUND ONE

The planking mama and kiddo, surveying the land for our next opportunity to strike a pose.

–ROUND TWO–

You can see we each competed in our own category:
kiddo’s involved a bit more of a handicap with that granite ledge.
My older, ahem, wiser body couldn’t wouldn’t quite ‘adapt’ to those contours.

Kiddo wins ROUND TWO

–FINAL ROUND–

The Final Round went to extremes, planking on the edge of the earth.

My planking partner has some training sessions he missed, and so…
Planking Mama wins the FINAL ROUND.

Paula and I will be representing blogland in the upcoming international planking championships and we are recruiting members of the team. Applications are now being accepted.

Outnumbered

So, yesterday I had made a ‘committment’ to spend my Sunday drinking and browsing, but as it turned out, I was outnumbered and outvoted by the men in my house. Which doesn’t take much, as I am the token female in our family. The cat doesn’t count.

But, if I couldn’t spend the day in my pjs curled up with a cup of coffee and the world wide web, at least I could spend the day in my second choice favorites: shorts and a tank top and instead of the couch, here

The boys would have none of this lounging bit, so off we went for a day hike up in one of my favorite place, Desolation Wilderness.  I find it ironic how something known as desolation somehow lifts my soul no matter how many times I traverse it’s stark, surface-of-the-moon like terrain.

It was this guy’s first foray into the wilderness, and he held his own and set his sights on vistas far and wide.

We made our contributions to the ‘community rock garden’

and despite the fact that I was out voted on the pajama day, I managed to wrangle a lizard like nap in the sun

And when I am a middle-aged woman, I shall, I will,  (I do now – thanks to the clearance rack at the REI on the way up the hill)  wear purple hiking shoes; for in my middle age, I somehow forgot to bring my hiking shoes, for our day of hiking. Tally one for ol’ Twinkle Toes!

And at the end of the day,

I’d say it was more than a fair trade; the wildnerness in place of the couch, and purple shoes instead of pajamas, to spend the day in one of my favorite place.

There’s always tomorrow!

Tales of the Camping Mamas

I remembered the underwear, a plethora of underwear actually that magically needed no laundering upon returning home. Little boys are funny.  But I forgot the swim trunks and my hairbrush. Thankfully, neither are absolutely necessary when camping; where improvisation is key.

It was two moms, two boys, two nights and countless fun and moments to remember.  Having paid our dues in prior years, with tent set up + take down and sleeping on the ground [or attempting to] on air mattresses that never quite have enough air, we upgraded ourselves to a yurt this year. For the non-campers, a visual aid is provided.

This was like the Ritz-Carlton to us – actual beds, a lamp, a heater [that was never needed] a skylight, and a real door that could be passed through without feeling like we had entered a page in Alice in Wonderland or The Hunchback  – no shrinking of our tall selves was required.

We weren’t the only ones who loved the yurt, while the boys were chillin’ on the bunkbed,  a bird flew into our humble abode. After an unsuccessful attempt to nicely have the bird find it’s own accommodations, we engaged the help of the park ranger.  This is big stuff apparently, our bird in the yurt was the talk of the park staff meeting.  That, and the keurig coffee machine we saw plugged in- in the ladies restroom.

Surrounded by pine trees, amazing mountains and quiet, except for the wind rustling through the aspens, we surrendered our phones, computers, iPods, etc. Our entertainment came from books, trees, lakes, sticks, bed-heads of epic proportions, our own imagination and for the boys, the campfire.  I don’t have a daughter, so I am not 100% sure, but there seems to be a genetic vein of pyro that runs through boys…can anyone dispel my theory?

There is something so soothing and nourishing about focusing on the simple tasks at hand, preparing food, rolling a sleeping bag, walking to the showers – the simple day to day tasks are admittedly more of a challenge in Mother Nature’s house, but it’s as if she is gently pulling us in, saying, ‘sit down and rest my dear‘. While in her house, we are allowed to rest our brains for a few days, slip into the rote actions of life and forget the rest of the world and all it’s worries.

The food tastes better.

Sipping wine among the trees and around a campfire with a perfect friend, is well, nothing short of amazing.

Hiking into the forest, while heart pumping and sweat-inducing, is awe inspiring

But it’s these boys that take my breath away.

But, what photos cannot capture are what will remain etched in my memory: two boys asking, in one moment, how far they can wander into the woods without supervision and in the next, asking their mama’s to snuggle in zipped-together sleeping bags. Two boys, who with such confidence, blazed ahead on the trail well beyond our sight, feeling proud beyond measure and then being overheard saying they wished mother-son camping lasted three nights.

The smell of campfire smoke in my still clean, unworn and overpacked clothing, that upon returning home, I refuse to wash. I want to keep that scent of days away from it all with my boy reminding me of a special time, even if  just for a few lingering days.

Two friends raising  their boys together sitting side by side without a word needed because we know that we are the kind of friends where the silence is just like having another friend along.  And asking each other, ‘what percent are you at?” while reading the same book on their kindles.

Driving down the highway and hearing the words, “mom crank it up”  and then the sweet voices of two boys uninhibited and free, singing along and knowing all the words, and the  knowing glances between moms with grins from ear to ear. We are full with the moment; we know it is fleeting. And really hoping they have no idea what the lyrics really mean!

The cleanest clean that comes from a 3 minute 4 quarter shower and the feeling of slipping on a fresh pair of pants, socks and sweatshirt after a day of living in the dirt.

The first sip of wine around the campfire.

Waking up and seeing the clear blue sky and the tippy tops of amazing trees through the skylight in our Ritz, yurt.

I surveyed my posse, “what is your favorite part of mother son camping?”:

Boy 1:  the campfire

Mom 1: the quiet, the unplugged-ness of it

Boy 2: roasting things in the campfire

{ I tell ya, it’s genetic! }

Mom 2 {me}: here is the best way I can give you my answer: As we started driving down the mountain, sun-drenched and beginning our trek home, the sun shining, blue skies and a gentle breeze blowing through the car, this song played on the radio. We sang along and I answered, “it’s right here. Right here”

As we drive away, all these memories are tucked away safely, imprinted upon us.

But, we will be back!

Oh, and how could I ever forget the campfire cones!?  Oh my, campfire cones! They deserve their own post, so check back tomorrow for the full scoop!

Just a few words about July

Now, if we all band together, maybe we can slow down the hands of time, and stop summer in its tracks.  Wherever you are, wishing you an amazing August.

Nine to 5

It was a perfect time away for Twinkle Toes and her family, mountains, fresh air, quality time, runs in the forest and so much more…

…and perhaps a few highlights will come soon.

In the meantime…

…the 9-5 beckons

Happy Monday all!

PS…Is it Friday yet? :)

Twinkle Toes

When my husband and I first started dating, a few moons ago, he took me  hiking in his homestate of Arizona. I was intrigued; the mountains in the desert are so different than the rolling hills of California where I grew up. Excited to climb to the top and chatting the whole way; I wasn’t really paying attention to how far up we had gone or exactly how steep it was.

After a picnic lunch, it was time to head back down.  My husband started easily down the mountain and I was trailing behind him, calculating every step I took. I was certain that  each step I took would result in me performing some fantastic somersault down the mountainside.  As much as I hated to, I had to keep asking him to wait, slow  down, wait.  After what must have felt so painstakingly slow to him, I hear him gently chide me,

“C’mon Twinkle Toes…

We went hiking yesterday, to one of my favorite places on earth where open expanses  of granite are punctuated by trees, waterfalls, lakes, boulders and of the course the wide open sky.

Each year, we never know what  we will find  here, it all depends on how much rain and snow we got the previous winter. Since it was a fairly dry winter last year, the falls that are normally roaring, were just a trickle this summer, giving us an all access pass to this playground nature created.

As we hiked up and down and all around, Twinkle Toes was out in all her glory [I should have a  hiking shirt made ..... with Twinkle Toes emblazoned across the front...and why am I only just now thinking of this?].

Even though I am familiar with the trail and the area, I found myself tip-toeing through the terrain, taking my own sweet time.

At each step of the way, I found myself scanning and assessing, searching intently for the best route, for me.  My husband is more the hop-to-it hiker, moving swiftly and easily from rock to rock, while I make my moves more intentionally.  I want to be sure that where I put my foot will hold steady, will give me the most secure footing. I want to move forward along the trail, not downward!  I will often take a slightly longer route to be sure that I will land on solid ground, that I can trust the earth to support me.

In the quiet of the day, I found myself thinking about my twinkle toes in a new light.  I realized that how we scamper over the rocks can mimic life in a way; some of us jump right into situations, while others watch, wait and listen; some speak and then think, others hem and haw before a word comes out. Some wear their emotions on their sleeve, others require quiet time to reflect and figure out their feelings.  I know that I often feel the need to observe before I engage and need to reflect before I share, but I know that this is not the way for everyone. Sometimes I envy the ways of others, and how they make it look so easy, so swift; and sometimes it’s the other way around. We all have a lot to learn from one another.

Some of us are rock-hopping hikers through life, others among us are twinkle-toes looking ahead to make sure the footing is secure and safe; and I realized that no matter how we make our way along the trail, that  even if the ground is wobbly, most of us are strong enough at our core to counterbalance the wobble, and insightful enough to know when to trust ourselves to risk the shaky step or look ahead and find a different route.

The best part? There is no one right way; we all get there in our own time and our own way; hopefully teaching others as we go.

.And does it really matter how we get there, if we find ourselves with companions who wait, slow down and enjoy the rewards along the way? 

Happy Hiking!

Yours Truly,
Twinkle Toes

a.k.a

Kindness in 30/20 vision

Today I ran to ‘church’.

And I listened to this. And prayed for everybody.

And in case you are wondering, because I think some of you might, yes, I sang. Out loud.

I figured the forest would forgive me; after all, isn’t that part of what going to church is about, forgiveness?

Though, I must confess, singing and running at the same time, at elev. 6500 is not pretty (#gasp).

I’m relieved that running is not just something I used to know;  today I found this spot and  when I returned home to count my miles, I realized that I completed my goal to log 30 miles in 30 days, and realized that instead, I did it in 20 days! Yeah!

I guess it is time to dream a little bigger longer.

I was not alone in this beautiful place [don't worry, they didn't hear me singing!] – I wouldn’t have entered the forest, if it hadn’t been for these folks. They live just a house or two from where the sidewalk ends and the forest begins and this is literally their back yard. Can you just imagine…

Not only did they graciously let me run around and play in their ‘yard’, they kindly showed me how to navigate the intersecting trails so I could find my way home.  They took the time to ask where I am from, shared about living so near that forest when it was engulfed in flames just a few years ago and the lasting effects that has. They took the time to ask my name, and we talked about our dogs.  Strangers one minute; kind folks the next.

“I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.”

Tennessee Williams, A Streetcar Named Desire

 

I ran around like a kid at Christmas, and then brought my husband and son back here for a bike ride before the sun went down on our day.

As you probably know, attending ‘church’ also usually includes a sermon of some kind, a lesson, an important message to reflect upon.  I got one. I do believe I needed one.

Sometimes, I hate to admit, I get the wrong idea about someone, and my brain shrinks to the size of a pea and gets carried away before I can remind myself that I’m most likely wrong and most definitely ill informed. That was the case today with a particular person that caught my attention while sitting lakeside. I should have just been enjoying the view, or my book, or both. But instead, I felt myself slipping down a slippery slope and engaged in a ridiculous swirl of self chatter trying to get myself back on the positivity track, (somehow my train jumped the tracks?) – and I knew I needed to climb back up to higher ground.

I scrambled my way out of that mess, and thank goodness, I got there. Because, before I  I knew it, this person was kindly offering the use of her paddle board to my son, [unbeknownst to me, she had noticed him eyeing it and asking us if we could rent one...] and casually telling us some of the history of the area; she even divulged some personal details…just like that, nice as pie.

Perhaps metaphorically, a pie in my face?

I realize in retrospect that my brain shrinks to the size of a pea when I feel small, or insignificant, or insecure.  Even when my big girl head says ‘don’t do that, you know better…”

Those uncomfortable, but all too human emotions…the choices are many and varied for each of us. This woman was my preacher today, and she gave the perfect sermon. She reminded me of an  important message, and trust me, I’ve been reflecting on it, but at the end of this beautiful day…

…I’m so glad I went ran to ‘church’  :)

Humbled by the stunning beauty all around, both in nature and in people, and inspired by the kindness of strangers, all of which makes me smile.

“No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.”

AESOP, The Lion and the Mouse

A Tune to Think To

“We have fallen down again, ‘tonight’

In this world, it’s hard to get it right…”

Ingrid Michaelson

Love can’t solve everything. But, it’s a place to start.

Mother Nature seems to be up in arms here…our bright and early brought greetings of thunder and lightning, and what has ensued has been a misfit summer day that has been a day of fits and starts, rain, thunder, sun, lightning; and time to read, play the game of Life and there may have been a nap in there somewhere.

This is a tune I hope you can’t get out of your head.

And one ‘everybody’ can get into their heart.

Ps: Nothing.

That’s the answer to the Sunday School riddle.

Just in case it was driving you nuts. It would me.

Look who came for a visit :: Friday Foto

While home on the morning of the 4th of July, getting food ready for the BBQ with friends, and my kiddo’s bike decorated, this fellow lighted upon a cable that runs through our yard.  I debated whether or not to get my camera, wondering if I’d even have time.  I always keep my camera out and close by, so it was within arm’s reach, but I needed my zoom lens – and I knew I’d have to shoot through the window. I scrambled to make the switch, the whole time thinking that surely it would all be for naught.

But this dragonfly was just content to hang out and I would like to think that maybe he was posing for me?

Just look at that little ‘smile’!

Click to see a bigger version of me!

I have heard that a dragonfly is a symbol of good luck; so I did a little research to see if my hunch was true or not.  What I found was pretty impressive for such a small, fragile being.  There are a variety of myths and stories associated with the life of a dragonfly; but one striking aspect associated with the dragonfly is change.  It’s considered to be an agent of change and self realization, and around the world, the symbolism takes on different meanings…

• To the Japanese, it symbolizes summer and autumn; the Samurai use it as a symbol of power, agility and best of all, Victory.

• In China, people associate the dragonfly with prosperity, harmony and as a good luck charm.

• Among Native Americans, it is a sign of happiness, speed and purity.

All that for such a delicate creature – it would seem to be enough, but there is so much more to know about a dragonfly. They represent so many positive traits and a depth of character I think most of us strive to achieve.

What really made an impression on me was the idea that a dragonfly symbolizes power and poise. It’s can move in all six directions and can move at an amazing 45 miles an hour, hover like a helicopter, fly backwards like a hummingbird, fly straight up and down and on either side.  And, it can do all this while flapping it’s wings just 30 times per minute – mosquitoes and flies flap theirs 600 and 1000 times!  Superfly!

The awe inspiring aspect is how the dragonfly does all this with utmost simplicity, effectiveness and power…

“the dragonfly has 20 times as much power in each of its wing strokes when compared to the other insects.  The best part is that the dragonfly does it with elegance and grace that can be compared to a veteran ballet dancer.”

So, yes, in my book, this all represents good luck.  I felt that we had a very special visitor stop by and sit awhile; a visitor that is usually flying, whizzing, and  hovering in all directions, too fast for the human eye to fully appreciate. I am so glad he sat for a bit and long enough for me to capture the moment.

Here’s wishing you a good luck kind of weekend!

PS:

Jeepers, June is over? How about a little June-a-gram