Ski to Sea weekend in Bellingham, someone might get a free shirt. Just outside the city line we had visitors, the special kind.
No snow = no ski. Oh well, a modified course couldn’t stop the race.
We = homemade bingo board play, barn, free samples, kid parking hustlers, ice cream, athletes completed, I won.
Trying to regulate and relegate feelings can be a tricky business. Like I want to hang out with my ladies and feel everything on Tuesday, but then go to work or do dishes on Wednesday and feel nothing. As if there is a tap I’m in total control of.
Things get strange when
one moment you’re home (the original one)
looking at the window of your childhood room from the outside,
& in a flash you’re talking to Ranftle or Billingsley or can’t remember Name.
20th reunion–> discovering what/who is the same/different. And I’m reminded of how big Mount Rainier and Teachers are. And it’s strange and beautiful to walk into the same gymnasium where at times I hid, at others I shined.
And seemingly hours later you go- there I go- to sit in an ornate theater finding myself moved to hear David Sedaris describe crossing state lines to get a tumor removed by a stranger in hopes of feeding it to turtles come late Spring.
And then there’s Don’s.
You and I could say we had a strange weekend.
I carry around a hard copy picture of my wife and first born in my money clip, you know, just in case. That is the reason, just in case. So I’m on it, but not that on it since I haven’t updated it with second born. I think about all the contingencies, just not all the time.
I’ve heard powerful stories of POWs or disaster survivors under ruble having a family picture that helped them stay strong. I have lots of pics on my phone, but if I’m ever held captive or an island castaway I’ll need to conserve the battery. I’m wary of being totally reliant on technology to find a restaurant address let alone help maintain my sanity if I’m a Bolivian prisoner or stranded at sea.
I see myself realizing I’ve never been to Bolivia + I’m not in the military + I don’t have a boat. I add it all up but still find myself preparing for Mount Baker to blow or a hostage takeover at the bank. Something as small as a picture could make the difference.
This type of game planning is likely a waste of time and energy. I’d be better off planning our garden. Yet, I’m right now feeling very strongly that I’ve pushed it long enough and really should update that photo.
War is yes hell.
Me + jeans and a clean shirt = someone who seems reasonable at work or walking down the street (not overtly friendly, but a conversation could be struck up with this Me.)
Me + 6:30AM emerging from dark pickup = a shady character to be avoided in the parking lot.
Me + a button up = “have a good day sir.”
Me + torn shorts and hoody filling gas cans = concerned looks.
Me + two kids in Woods Coffee = a highly trustable man perfect for watching a college student’s purse and laptop while she goes to the bathroom.
Photo by Moonwater
In Trivial Pursuit I’m always better at the Pop Culture or Sports questions than Science. Though I latch on to science folk and try to learn from them, I guess I prefer books about life at Sea or in a Band.
Was out in shorts and T yesterday, nearly applied sunblock to children. In February, that’s how it’s been. I fully get we/West haven’t the reality or even imagination of the snow banks out East, but we’ve had our wind(s) this winter.
The season’s wind damage to the acre:
Wesley Withrow Tracks 