Monday, June 30, 2008

Banff National Park....Still Speechless

I am still searching for words to describe this experience. I will have to add commentary when I come down from my elevated state of being after being in such an elevated state. And when I come back from our vacation #2 to Bainbridge Island. Enjoy the photos for now.

Saturday, June 21, 2008

It is about the Bike

I am devastatingly terrible at finding gifts for Corey. You know when you have those "A-HA" moments of pure elated excitement because you have just thought of or found the absolute perfect expression of love in form of a gift or gesture for someone? I have NEVER had one of those moments for the most important person in my life. After almost 13 years of desperately groping and failing, I am ready to give up. Fortunately, the kids stepped up to fill this void in Corey's life and gave Corey the "ultimate" Father's Day gift.
Corey is passionate about a few things. Biking is undoubtedly at the top of that list (likely neck and neck with free-heeled skiing). I think it was a little disconcerting that his children didn't seem to share this ardant ferver. After many failed attempts, Savanna cringed at the thought of once again getting on a bike. I think I remember her telling me that she would rather eat worms. Emmy could ride a bike, but always with a hint of terror on her face. Ansel had so far been Corey's only progenic hope for someone to spoke around with. His dream of biking the Great Divide as a family was slowly fading into the sunset.
On Saturday night before Father's Day, I had a looming premonition that Corey's Day was doomed to be less than satisfactory. He had to work from 5pm to 2am that weekend and this did the opposite of give him a sunny disposition. I had unsuccessfully wrung the creative corner of my mind for any ideas. When all hope was almost lost, THE IDEA was presented to me.Savanna decided that she wanted to learn to ride a bike for Father's Day. This also nudged Emmy to gain more confidence in her riding ability. We went up to the cul-de-sac above the house and practiced the entire evening....along with many bumped calves and frustrated tears......until it was too dark to see any longer. Emmy was able to get a few good runs....and Savanna made a little progress. I could see that she was dissappointed when we had to head home before she had made a lap.
Savanna woke up Sunday morning, skipped breakfast, and wordlessly went out to the garage to get back on the bike. I watched her from the front steps and within an hour, she was riding that bike.
And the best part of it all was that they actually enjoyed biking. It is one week later and they have spent at least an hour a day riding their bikes.
I don't know how much longer Ansel will believe that his shoes possess special powers. He got these soccer cleats and immediately became the world's greatest soccer player. His entire persona took on an air of intense athletic ability.
Apparently, these magical shoes also gave Ansel the climbing prowess of a Mountain Goat.

It is okay that I may never be the one to make Corey's Dreams come true. His dream came true this Father's Day and that is all that matters. Cheesy enough for you Corey?
Happy Father's Day

Thursday, June 12, 2008

No Brontophobiacs here

We had the most amazing Thunderstorm last night. There are still several things that can still awaken my child within. Thunderstorms are one of these things. They make me feel small, insignificant, wild and giddy. To let the atmosphere have complete control over my life for this brief period of time is somehow therapeutic and soul-cleansing. In the space of under an hour, we witnessed the thick warm darkness descending upon us, loud boisterous thunder and pounding rain . And just as quickly as it came, the clouds began to disperse. Light poured in the empty spaces and produced this rainbow that I was able to capture from Savanna's easterly facing bedroom window.

I momentarily thought the lightning had hit one of our trees and set our western slope aflame. I ran down to the deck to find that this glorious sunset. All of this crazy temperamental weather in one evening. If only my moodiness were as attractive.

To further make the hairs on my arm stand on end, I happened to be going through the stack of papers that Savanna brought home from school today. Savanna doesn't tell me much about what she does at school and I have to glean what little bits of information I can from the crevices of her backpack. Today she brought home the culmination of her 4th grade year at school and I was feasting on this enormous serving of Savanna. Sprawled on her floor, windows wide open, welcoming this wild weather, I discovered this essay and poem on Thunderstorms that Savanna had written in class recently. It was a very bonding moment for me, my daughter, and the universe.

Thunderstorms by Savanna Judd

I like thunderstorms. They are my favorite kind of weather. I like them better than snow or sunshine any day. This is why I love thunderstorms. The first reason that I like thunderstorms is because sometimes when it is raining very hard during a thunderstorm, me and my sister run around outside until we are so wet that someone would think we had just come out of a pool after swimming in our clothes. Then we sit on the patio and watch the rain while eating our favorite kind of homemade popcorn our mom just made.

The second reason why I like thunderstorms is because when I am in bed at night, I love the sound of rain pat-pat-pattering on the rooftop, and even love the sound of thunder. Sometimes it keeps me awake and the only thing I can hear is rain, and I can only see darkness. Then I fall asleep.

The third, and last reason why I like thunderstorms is because after a long thunderstorm, the next day is always so green. Every single leaf on every single tree seems ten times more shiny and green, covered with raindrop. Even the grass looks beautiful. And sometimes, when you look over the trees, you see a radiant rainbow, shining under the sun, which makes the many puddles shine and glitter like watery crystals.


by Savanna Judd

Rain falls on the ground

like a hand

pounding a poem on paper

creating a song

with the steady

beat of the rain.

The song

starts an adventure

a mystery.

While the rain still falls

and the writer dreams

of stories

of thoughts

of memories