Sunday, July 27, 2014

Permission to Be

All Rapunzel's mother desired
Was a taste of rampion
While all I crave is a perfect blackberry
I'm willing to earn it
Winning its sweet flavor
By tiptoeing, reaching past brambles
Waiting for the witch to startle me
And ask for my firstborn
An agreement to which 
(if the flavor be sweet)
I just might succumb.

I gave myself permission to lose track of time today. Nowhere I needed to go or be. Nothing I needed to do. I meandered to the lake - stopped and told an older Indian couple how much I admired their flowers and was invited further into their sanctuary to smell the fragrant jasmine. Heavenly.

Swam for unknown numbers of laps and emerged in a contented daze, following the sound of bagpipes wafting to the water from the path and continuing on to a park bench where I observed the myriad walkers, runners, bladers and bikers.

Stopped numerous times on the way home - to rub rosemary or lavender in the palm of my hand. To capture a thought with pen and paper. To pick a perfectly sweet berry. Or to sketch the buildings of Tangletown.

A tiny part of me remained conscious of tomorrow's return to ordinary time - but not enough to ignore the succulent hours ahead. When I returned home, 2.5 hours had passed in an infinite instant.

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Camping at Cougar Rock

Last weekend, we escaped the city and joined a group of friends at Mt. Rainier. While we've camped with many of these friends over the last decade, this was only the second time we'd been camping with kids - four of them to be exact, ages 4, 3, 2 and 7 months. Don't get me wrong, I love playing auntie - singing songs, bouncing babies, playing peekaboo and telling stories - but I wasn't sure how well they'd fit into a hiking adventure (or a good night's sleep for that matter). Fortunately, the adults outnumbered the kids (and included one set of grandparents and some grown-up cousins), so we were able to divide and conquer. We had a great time (and only were awakened once or twice in the wee hours by our small neighbors). Rather than regale you with the entire trip, let me share some of my favorite moments.
.........................................................................................................
Pressure cooker curry has been gobbled, s'mores have been toasted (why does food always taste better when you're staying in a tent?) and darkness has fallen. The fire is crackling and the smell of smoke and evergreens fills the air. Time for a bluegrass jam! I was instructed to bring along my guitar - talent beyond the ability to play C, D and G not required - to go along with the banjo. Phil's parents are in a bluegrass group in Eastern Washington and I am nervous to play along, but eager to test out some of those bluegrass harmonies that I've been learning in class. There's nothing sweeter than singing and playing near the campfire, though we keep our instruments out of the direct line of cinders and sparks - especially since the "good" banjo mistakenly journeyed to Cougar Rock. We sing "I'll Fly Away" and "Bury Me Beneath the Willows" as I've been practicing in class and I learn some new tunes. I finally abandon the guitar to Lisa (one of the grown-up cousins), swearing that some day I'll learn better fingering to transition from G to C, and concentrate on melding our voices. We sing until exhaustion takes hold (and we are told in an imperious tone by the four-year-old to "stop singing!").
.........................................................................................................
Trent, Phil (whose daughter is safely joining her grandparents for the day), Lisa and I have hiked Eagle Peak, 7 miles round trip with about 3000 feet in elevation gain. An eagle circles our head, as we snack on our sack lunches that we packed back at the campsite. A daring gray jay begs for crumbs. We hear Trent calling and see him across from us on the actual peak (rather than the saddle) much higher up still. We circle around and see Mt. Adams, Mt. St. Helens (which three of us summited three years ago), Mt. Hood and the Paradise Lodge. There is still snow on the ground, which we scrunch up in our hands and place on our necks to cool down from the 85 degree heat. While we are enjoying the moment, we eagerly anticipate a return to Longmire for ice cream sandwiches.
.........................................................................................................
Two of the little ones have crawled onto my lap on the camping chair. The oldest looks at the rings that I've carefully placed onto my necklace (I've learned that hiking makes my fingers grow into fat sausages and I prefer not to cut off their circulation) and asks if she can wear them. I tell her that Trent and I are not going to share and prefer to keep our wedding bands safe. She replies, "I want my daddy to get me a ring just like this". When he hears this, he decides that a trip to Claire's is soon in order. The younger waves my empty water bottle at me. We sing and bounce to the tune of "Eine Kleine Nachtmusik".
.........................................................................................................
All too soon, it is time to leave. Though we're tired and ready to return home, we also are all a little wistful that the experience could last just a little longer before going back to everyday life. A week later, my hair still smells a bit of campfire smoke, a souvenir from the trip - or perhaps just wishful thinking. Ah well, there's always next year.

Monday, July 14, 2014

Keeping Cool in the Summer Heat

I freely admit it, I am a weather wimp. As a native Seattleite, I am most comfortable when the temperature hovers in the very civilized 68-72 degree range. Sure, I'll cheer for the first few 80 degree days, but when they stretch on and on with no end in sight, I pray for respite. Last night, we had the tiniest sprinkling of rain and I rushed outside to revel in the smell, sound and feel of it. All too soon, it had passed and I wilted again. I was so lethargic, that I couldn't bring myself to read, write or compose my post-camping blog post (which is still forthcoming - imagine, Mt. Rainier with four children ages 4 and under).

Currently, my house is 83 degrees on the main floor. Normally, I would escape to the far cooler basement, where we have bedroom, t.v. room and weight room - however, I'm sitting in the living room with guarding the open door from next door's devil cat (the one who peed on my couch cushion when I was enjoying my front yard and who continues to mark my yard every time I'm out there for more than a few minutes at a time) trying to cool it down before bedtime.

But enough complaining! Here are my top 5 strategies for staying cool even if you don't have air conditioning or an electric fan:

1. Use a paper fan. I still have a paper fan that was given out as a souvenir at our friends' wedding. I pulled it out yesterday and madly started waving it on myself and the surprisingly unannoyed Trent.

2. Wrap a wet handkerchief or scarf around your neck. I learned this trick on my first trip to Japan, when temperatures hovered in the 90s and I lost my appetite for several days. This, combined with drinks from the many vending machines situated in alley ways, at shrines, and every other corner allowed me to enjoy sushi breakfast my last few days there.

3. Enjoy the outdoors. Go swimming in an outdoor area, such as my beloved Green Lake or sit in the shade of a tree.

4. Eat soups or salads for dinner. One of my favorite sandwich recipes is a reconstructed, non-vegan, non-fat-free recipe, modified from a vegan, fat-free recipe for Deconstructed Vietnamese Ba'hn M'i Salad Sandwiches.

Ingredients
  • BBQ pork
  • 2 tablespoons of low-sodium soy sauce, divided
  • 2 tablespoons of hoisin sauce
  • 2 teaspoons sriracha sauce (aka Rooster Sauce) Note: use less if you prefer less heat
  • 2 tablespoons seasoned or plain rice wine vinegar
  • 3 cups of finely shredded cabbage 
  • 1 large carrot, shredded
  • 1/2 English cucumber, peeled & chopped (optional)
  • 1 cup fresh cilantro leaves
  • 1/4 cup minced green onions
  • 1/2 baguette, cut in half, & sliced into 4 serving size
Preparation:
  • In a small bowl, combine the 2 tablespoons of soy sauce with the hoisin sauce, sriracha sauce, and vinegar, stirring well to blend. Set aside.
  • Spread the shredded cabbage ona large platter, sprinkle evenly with the carrot, cucumber, cilantro, and scallions. Arrange the BBQ pork on the top.
  • Serve with sliced baguettes & pass the dressing to spoon on top of the salad. These are messy, so make sure you have napkins handy.
5. When all else fails, follow my great-grandmother's advice - there's nothing like an ice cold beer on a hot day.

How do you beat the summer heat?

Sunday, July 6, 2014

Green Lake is My Playground

When we first moved to our Tangletown house, I was disappointed that we didn't have a larger lot. I grew up in a house with a lot 1/3 of an acre (which presents its own difficulties) and to me part of home ownership was having a big back yard to retreat to on sunny days. I've since realized that I have something even better - a whole lake to call my own.

Green Lake is a short 3/4 mile distance away and I make the journey 3-4 times a week, either by bike or foot. Last week when the temperature reached the 90s (hot for Seattle, though nothing compared to most of the rest of the country), I sauntered to the lake with sundress over swimming suit to swim a few laps. What an absolutely perfect activity for a record-breaking day of heat. The first dip was tentative, walking up to chest level before pausing to shiver, dunk and shriek - then bliss. Most of the water was downright warm (far enough away from the other swimmers that I didn't have to worry that I was in a pee patch), but every once in a while there'd be a cold patch. I'm noticeably out of swimming shape and I was tired after just 15 or 20 minutes, so I wrapped a towel around me and meandered back home. There were plenty of sights to see along the way, including an adventurer on a slack line stretched between two trees across the water, the crowd cheering him along. By the time I walked through my door, my hair was almost dry.

I'm always surprised if I don't see someone I know when circling the lake - either from the library world, church or the neighborhood. Some days I see 2 or 3 people from different parts of my life converging in one place.

And what a great spot for people watching. I keep a running tally of things "seen & heard at Green Lake" including:
Tired mom: "Kids, don't eat the rocks" And again in a slightly more desperate tone, "please don't eat the rocks".

Boy to Dad: "Dad, I don't mind getting my pants wet," as he wades deeper into the water.
Dad: "I mind".
Whining ensues.

Man bicycling with a large cat on his shoulder.

A sad older woman carrying an 8 x 10 framed photo.

A guitar player busking. Initially I am inspired to learn more guitar so that I too can play outside on a sunny day without hurting anyone's ears. Later, I hear him spouting obscenities and insulting people as they walk by. "I'm going to have to take a short break before I go insane," he mumbles.

I love this lake! So much in fact, that I couldn't even write this post in one sitting - I had to take a break to run around it.