1 Crazy Week

3 crazy days in first grade

2 daughters brought down by the flu

1 rushed decision to return to work full-time (temporarily)

all led to:

1 WET bike ride

1 trip to Tacoma Bike and the purchase of

1 beautiful blue, WATERPROOF cycling jacket

(my first ever!)

Isn't she beautiful!

I'm thinking of naming her.

Whatta ya think?

Old Blue?

No--she's NEW! 

How could I call her OLD BLUE?

Okay, maybe the naming is a bad idea :)

The Road to Recovery

As I mentioned earlier, I am currently NOT RUNNING.  And, as a runner, this makes me very unhappy.  This is a sport I have been enjoying since high school and in all that time I've never really missed more than a day or two.  But this year has been hell.  Actually, it was last year mostly, but it's spilling over into this year.   In short, I was plagued with injuries.  There was the groin (ouch), the knees (chronic), the piriformis (bet you didn't even know you had one of these did ya) and last, but not least, my current problem:  The foot (Plantar Fascitis--again--ouch).  

So it's been two long months since I've hit the road, or run the trails and, I must say,  I've handled it remarkably well.    Thankfully, Christmas and Winter Break kept me busy.  But now school has resumed.  Everyone is back where they belong and I have more time on my hands.  (Hence this new project.  Apparently, I go from one addiction to another.)

To keep my body from going completely downhill,  I have decided to devote some of this free-time to "cross-training."  I have tried doing this before, but never successfully, as I was never able to give up my  running days for something else.  Not a very good philosophy for someone trying to cross-train I know.  But, now,  if I'm going to stay in shape, I have to move.   Rolling out cookie dough and lifting those Starbucks holiday cups to my lips didn't really do anything for my heart, or my muscle tone.

Now if you are a Face Book Friend, you already know I went swimming the other day.  I do this from time to time, when my legs are tired or achey.  But it's not really my thing.  I like it well enough, but my obsessive nature takes over and I can't stop counting laps.  And then when I lose count, I'm a mess.  Was that ten, or eleven?  The mental stress is  exhausting.   Not to mention The Gear.  Obviously,  there's the suit.  You can't go without that.  Then there's the cap (makes no one look good) and finally, the goggles.  Which make us all look ridiculous.   Although I have to admit, it's not as bad as cycling.  This sport just involves way too many layers.  On a cold day,  I'm surprised I can even lift my leg over the frame.  There are the gloves, the booties (so the toes don't freeze, though mine still do) the base layer, the mid-layer, the jacket, the ear warmers, the helmets, the bike pumps, the spare tubes.  And then five miles down the road I'm sweating like a pig!

See what I mean?  The remains of my WET and WINDY ride

So, after dropping NJ off at school on Monday,  I set out to start my new exercise program.    After checking in at the YMCA, and a quick pit stop in the bathroom, I grabbed my cap and goggles and walked into the pool room.  As I put my hands inside my cap to stretch it over my big head,  (Yes, I believe I have a big head.)  it split right down the back seam.  Oh Snap!  Well, maybe it'd still work.  Forever the optimist, I tried again.   Of course it didn't work!  It just split more.  So I dug through my swim bag and purse hoping to find something--anything--that would hold my hair out of my face!   Voila!  TWO of Nora's LITTLE, TINY, yellow hair clippies.  Well, that ought to hold about five hairs in place.  But I was determined.  I was here.  I was in my suit.  I was going swimming!

I put on my goggles, hopped into the pool, swam a few strokes and my goggles began filling.  This was going to be a LONG swim.  So I fiddled with them.  I tightened the straps. I talked sweetly to them.  I hoped for the best.  But this was their best.  So for twenty-five minutes I swam, back and forth, back and forth, eyes burning from the chlorine, until I could see no more.  

God I miss running.  The simplicity of lacing up your shoes and locking the door on your way out.  No fuss.  No muss.  No heavy dependence on equipment.  Okay, your legs and feet gotta be cooperative, but other than that....not so much!

I miss these guys :(

Well that was two days ago.  Today I was going to be better prepared.  I borrowed a new cap from Anna's swim drawer and went to look for my goggles.  And guess what?  The damn things were nowhere to be seen.   Again my optimism wouldn't let me give up.  Well, I'll  just buy some new ones at the Y I told myself only to get there and REALLY be told, "we're out."  My heart sank.  Why is this so hard, my brain voice screamed at me.  Still not ready to throw in the towel, (get it?) I asked, "may I check your lost and found box, maybe I left them here on Monday."  After I described them, the Y-Guy said, "are any of  these yours?"  And I said, "those are"  as I grabbed them and walked into the locker room.   Of course, they weren't mine!  But they were goggles for God's Sake and I was going swimming!  

Again, with suit on, hair tucked snugly into my new cap, goggles suctioned so tightly onto my face there was absolutely NO chance of removal,  I dove in.   And THAT'S what I get for lying!   They were worse than my lost ones!  But, again, I kept on.  A glutton for punishment if ever there was one.  Until thirty minutes later when I stumbled blindly into the locker room and stood under the shower, for what seemed like an eternity, cleansing my poor eyeballs.  

During this time, Jack E Boy had been waiting patiently in the car.  Or maybe not so patiently, it's hard to tell really. I promised him a walk in the nearby trails after my swim.   With my eyes still red, I pulled my hat low to avoid direct eye contact with any other dog walkers we may encounter and off we went.  Luckily it was a quiet day at the trails and not many people were out.  But, as we turned our last corner and headed back to the car, I lifted my head and smiled directly into the face of a runner coming towards me.  It'd been so long since I've seen one up close.  She was beautiful!  Her long black ponytail swinging back and forth in perfect rhythm.  And her outfit!   Well, it consisted of a baggy sweatshirt, sweats that were too short to be sweats, but not quite short enough to be capris, ugly mismatched gloves and GASP!  weird shoes!  Some kind of clunky REI slipper/shoe thing!  BEAUTIFUL!

But the real beauty of her outfit:  she didn't have to fuss with any of it!  She knew her cap would stay on her head.  She knew her ugly mismatched gloves wouldn't fall off.  She knew nothing would leak, rip, or tear.  OKAY,  I really don't know what she was thinking with those shoes, but they seemed to be working for her.    NO FUSS, NO MUSS.  

We smiled as we passed each other and yes, she did appear concerned as she quickly scanned my battered eyes, but I carried on.   Renewed.  Hopeful.  For the day I, too,  return to running these trails.  

Back in the car,  Jack and I had to make one final stop before returning home.  The Fircrest Swim Shop.  There I would certainly get some much needed expert advice on goggles.  "You see, you gotta get a good seal,"  I was told.  Really!!!  So I handed her my twenty bucks and walked out.   

As I was hanging up my wet suit and cap in the bathroom, I spotted them.  Hanging from the bathtub faucet, RIGHT where I left them.  Well, they are clear.    They did totally blend in to the side of the tub.  

Hmm...maybe the goggles aren't the real problem afterall...

My First-Ever Resolution (And the REAL Reason Behind this Blog)

Goodbye 2010 -- Hello 2011!

The Larsons looking ahead to 2011

Everyone knows that with each new year comes an opportunity to reflect on one's life:  the good, the bad, what we hope to change or discard.  It's a time to make new promises, set new goals.  Not for me, though.  I have never practiced this tradition, because I have a good life.  I am married to a loving husband, and I've been blessed to be a stay at home mom with  two beautiful daughters.  I have good friends,  a roof over my head, and a car that gets me where I need to go.  And my lovely Dad is still alive and kicking.  (He's had a few health problems the last few years, so this makes me VERY happy.)  So, really, what would I change?  What do I need, that I don't have already?  Nothing--until this year.   2010 was hard.  It was more than hard;  it was  stressful,  exhausting, and full of emotional upheaval.

I had struggles with my seventeen year old daughter that I, honestly, never anticipated.   Perhaps I was naive, but I just never saw us in one of those mother/teen relationships.  The ones that are ripe with strife and struggle, always battling for control.  No way--not us.  We had always been close, telling each other everything.  Or so I thought.  So when Anna grew up and became one of those daughters, the daughter who rejects her parents, wants everything her way, doesn't want to be told what to do or when to be home, and fights with her parents CONSTANTLY,  I, in turn, became one of those mothers.

Defining the root of our struggle isn't easy.  Is it a personality conflict?   We're pretty similar, though it could be argued that I'm a little more high strung.    Is it her lack of maturity, her inability to see beyond her own tightly-knit world?  Is it my temper?  Or (d):  all of the above.  Whatever the root may be, Anna was different, rebellious.  She was no longer the kid who did exactly what she was told.  On the contrary she challenged us: our expectations, our rules--everything.  And by that, I really mean me.  She challenged me, argued with me, slammed doors in front of me, hurt me.

I'd like to say with certainty that last year's drama walked out the door on December 31st, but I can't.   Only time will tell.

I can report that life with her has improved.  She left that summer boyfriend, or he left her, I'm not really sure how that went down.  In any case, he wasn't good for her.  (And  teens, if you are reading this, take note:  who you associate with really does matter.)   She got a job, and kept her eyes on the prize:  graduation.  She's been accepted at all of the colleges she applied to, and is looking forward to her next adventure;  life without her micro-managing mother.   Honestly, we have had a few rough moments, but that's all they've been:  moments.   Following a huge blow-out  last summer, (a time I look back upon with great sadness) I think she now realizes that actions do have consequences.  That words really can be harmful.   And when my youngest occasionally asks, "Mom, why do you and Anna yell at each other?"  Embarrassed, I can only respond, "sometimes living together is difficult."  And hope that is answer enough for now.

2010 also took the life of my 20 year old nephew.  Okay, his involvement with drugs and alcohol was really the culprit.  But his death--his murder--was still tragic, still devastating.   Bryan grew up in Alaska, with a family that was very different from mine.  A family that struggled with many challenges.  Thus,  I wasn't very close to him.   But I felt his loss deeply.  The loss of a boy who would never grow to be a man.  So I flew to Alaska,  hugged my sisters, and helped organize my first funeral; not fun.  When I boarded the plane in Fairbanks to return home, I was never more grateful for the family I was coming home too:   defiant teenager and all.

Finally, I ended the year fearing I had breast cancer.   Although the actual time spent worrying and tending to this situation was only a few weeks, it was long enough to rock my world.  Luckily, everything was fine and the calcium deposits showed "no signs of malignancy."  Good news.  

Obviously,  2010 wasn't all bad.   I was lucky enough to spend some time in one of my favorite places: beautiful Twisp, Washington.   I ran trails, soaked up some much needed sunshine, ate GOOD food, and played with my little fisherman, until she quickly got bored and wanted to go for a hike.   My husband and I celebrated our 19th wedding anniversary, and I watched my six year old gain confidence on the soccer field and then face her fears by playing in her first violin recital.

So here's where my "resolution" comes in.  In 2011 I am hoping to find the beauty and creativity that lies within myself and my every day life.  I mean who couldn't use a little of that?  And here's the easy part; it's already there!  I just have to stop and notice it.  And, no, I'm not taking any art classes, or cooking classes (though, really, I could probably use a few of those) and not even putting out large wads of cash.

How, you wonder, am I going to accomplish this?   Easy.  I am simply going to write a few words on my blog (a few?  I know this is a long post),  take a few pictures with my NEW camera,  bake something yummy, or, maybe, just knit something new.    Nothing that will demand much more of my time.   I don't  want my "resolution" to become a job,  something I have to  measure.  I'm not going for the Sistine Chapel here,  just a little piece of beauty in my corner of the world.

And it's already working:

I  knitted a little case for my camera.

I baked something old (but new to me): My Grandma's Danish Puff.  And they turned out beautifully.  Although, admittedly, they were PRETTY sweet.  So, no, I won't be making them again.  But hey!  That's not what this project is about.  It's about the effort.

Grandma Dahl's Danish Puff:  The blurriness hides its true beauty, but I had to show ya anyway

I made a new photo coffee cup.  But taking a picture- of a bunch of pictures--on a cup--wasn't turning out so well.  So, until I figure out how to post those, you'll just have to believe me!  

I stamped some beautiful Thank You cards for Anna (Christmas was 2 weeks ago! ) and all it took was a blank note card, a pretty tree stamp, and some glittery gold ink.  I think they look pretty good, how about you?

And, YES, Anna's Thank-Yous have since been written and sent! 

And last night I started knitting a birthday gift for a friend of mine.  Sorry I can't show you yet, don't want to ruin the surprise.  (Maybe after her birthday:)

As you can see, none of my "projects" have been hugely time consuming, or expensive.  And I didn't make something EVERY day.  But I did appreciate the effort, the beauty, and the creativity that I put  into everything I did make.

Like my blog, I don't know how long this creative energy will last.  Hopefully for a while, because it's making me feel pretty damn good about myself.  And I do know that 2011 will have troubles of its own, as all years do.  But I will hope for the best, that's all I can do.  

I sincerely hope 2011 brings you much happiness, good health, and some beauty of your own.

S-

P.S.    This post was about my WHOLE 2010 and my mention of Anna was just a mere part of it, added for emphasis.  I did not intend to make her out to be "a bad kid."  Because she's not.  She's seventeen and trying to find out who she is and who she wants to become.  And I know she loves us.  She just needs to go off to college to realize it for herself :)

P.S.S  As for NJ, I'm praying, PRAYING, that she and I will have a different relationship down the road.  But sadly, the parenting I give her will very likely match my parenting of Anna.    I mean I am what I am.  I'm just hoping that her personality turns out less like mine and more like her Dad's.  She already has his freckles!

Baby You're a Firework!

For my big girl:

There's a SPARK in you

You just gotta

Ignite 

the light

and 

let 

it SHINE

Just own the night

like the 4th of July

Cause BABY you're a firework!

Come and show 'em 

what you're worth!

Make 'em go 

AH!!!! 

As you 

SHOOT

Across the Sky!

(totally stolen from Katy Perry's Firework)

Dinner With a Danish Boy

Meet Malte.  

Malte and Anna:  TWO beautiful Scandinavians

Malte (pronounced Melda) is my newest friend.  Okay, he's actually, Anna's friend, but since we broke bread together tonight, I'm officially claiming him as well.  And, by breaking bread, I mean I served him a REAL American meal:  hot dogs and tater-tots, which I felt compelled to explain.  He's been here for FOUR months and never heard of them!  What's he been eatin!  He also liked that I served "salad" and fruit with dinner.  Salad!  It was plate of apple slices, carrot sticks and cucumber rounds---total filler!  Poor kid, he caught me on Date Night with Dave.  

Malte is from Denmark and currently living with relatives in North Tacoma, while "studying" at Stadium High School.  It would probably be more correct to say that he hangs out at Stadium, because when I asked him how his classes here compare with those from the old country,  he laughed!  Honestly!  Apparently, he's a smarty pants, in addition to being the cutest Danish boy I know.  

And speaking of Danes, can you name any famous ones?

Well, I can and here they are, in the order I learned them:

Viggo Mortensen, the actor.  I KNOW, I thought he was Italian too.  Doesn't Viggo just conjure up images of spaghetti and red wine?  Here's a tip I learned:  the "sen" at the end of one's last name totally reveals their Danish heritage.  

Which brings us to #2 on my list:  Scarlet Johann"son."  Hmm.... Another actor, and another pretty cute Dane, although her name does totally blow Malte's afore-mentioned theory.  However, in his defence, I did read that Scarlett is of both Polish and Danish descent.  Maybe this explains it.  

And then, of course, there is the band, Aqua; known in America, or at least by me, as the group made famous by the annoying  catchy tune,  Barbie Girl.

And, finally, though certainly there are more just unbeknownst to me, let's not forget "The Eagle from Herning,"  Bjarne Riis.  I'm always happy to plug a cyclist:  Go Team Saxo Bank!  

But back to Malte.  You already know he's smart.  He's also very polite, very conversational, and very worldly.  He's been to more countries than I can remember.  He plays football, big shock I know, and he's also musical, playing both the guitar and piano.  He's nice to little girls, and helpful as well.  He helped Anna with her K.P. duties last night.  (We will so be friends!)  So as you can see, he is one sweet boy.  

Malte will be in Tacoma only until the end of the school year,  then he's off to explore America with his family.  I am hoping he will come back for another visit, and maybe play me a song or two? I promised him a meal much better than hot dogs and tater-tots.   I think we'll go out, I cook much better that way!  

If you'd like to meet Malte, contact Anna or look him up on the web.  I hear he's got a video or two on YouTube.  

Hej :)

P.S.  In case you're wondering about my Date Night with Dave, we saw "True Grit," and I think you should too.   Hailee Steinfeld, the young actress who plays Mattie Ross,  is fabulous!   Definitely 2 thumbs up!

A Family Affair

Apparently, I'm not the ONLY one in the family to hop onto the Blog Wagon.  Just the most recent.    This handsome fella is Dave;  my husband, my best friend, my everything....Okay, I'll stop.  (And, yes, that is the snowman that eluded me...He's been put away since this photo was taken)

But, seriously, Dave's a great guy.  He's a hockey playing, bike riding, photography nut. Sadly, NOT a runner.  But he will totally stand in the rain for hours while I race and then drive me home.    Isn't he nice?  He's also a wonderful dad.  But I bet you already guessed that huh.

And he's taken on a new project too...Can you guess what it is?

No?  Take a peek here:  doubletall-dave.blogspot.com

In The Garden

This afternoon I saw TWO FAT Robins in my back yard, so I tried to take a picture to show my daughter.  She's six and still likes things like that.  But I haven't mastered my camera completely and, apparently,  I was taking so long zooming in and out that I scared them away.  In my defense, I was trying to shoot through the back door window.

Although they were only passing through, I was happy they stopped by.  I loved watching them hop and scurry, as only birds with little tiny legs and big fat bodies can do.  And watching them flick dead, fallen leaves aside, with such ease, to reveal the delicacies hidden underneath made me glad I'm not a bird!

After they left, I did a quick scan of my garden.  Brown dirt, brown sticks, and naked branches stared back.  Yes, I am definitely missing sunshine, and color, and flowers.  And sitting on the patio eating family dinners with the evening sun so hot on our skin that we have to move back inside--just for a bit--just until it cools off.

Until then, I'm just glad someone is using it.

P.S.  I did get one bird shot...not great, but you know what a Robin looks like anyway......

P.S.S.  A few shots of my winter garden.....

Until Next Year

The tree is down.  The decorations have been put away, with the exception of the Snowman Teapot I just found on top of the cupboard in the kitchen.  EVERY YEAR there's one that eludes me!   The cookies and candy have been eaten, or thrown away.  I just couldn't look at them anymore, let alone take another bite.  Remember,  my foot is injured and I haven't been running for nearly two months.  My sanity and my waist line are both feeling the effects this loss.  Sigh!

Christmas is over.  And I am HAPPY!

I no longer have to stress about what I'm going to make for Christmas dinner.  Or what I'm taking to the holiday party.  Or what I'm going to buy for people who I hardly see the entire year! I mean I know the holidays are supposed to be about giving.  I get that!  And I LOVE to give, but just to people I know.  People I adore.  People who I can easily shop for!  Is that so horrible?

You can call me a Grinch, or Ebenezeer.  But,  really, I'm not!  I think  I'm very sweet and kind hearted.  I love my husband.  I love my children.  I love my friends.  And I love to give them things!   I just think we all  get a little carried away during the holidays, because we think we have to.    That's all. 

For me, Christmas is about so much more than that.   It's about spending time with the family that I see, collectively, about once a year.  I don't know why that is.  I guess  Christmas Eve is just the day we all commit to.  But they are totally worth the wait. And here's why:

My Aunt Brenda, My Dad, and my Aunt Andrea  sporting festive winter attire made by my Aunt Brenda.  Aren't they cute! 

Alright, this photo may not show them in their best light.  But stick with me.  I'll explain. 

These are the people I grew up with.  The people I spent every holiday with during my childhood.   The people who know my family secrets.  And still love me!  The people who bought me my first pair of shiny red shoes, and showed me that not every dinner must include meat and potatoes.   Sometimes you can just stir fry vegetables--in a wok!  Or at least a deep frying pan!   These are the cousins who sat together at the kid's table, in the kitchen, far away from the watchful eyes of grown-ups laughing as Brian, yet again, flipped his eyelids inside out.  And, yes, that still totally grosses me out! 

Cousins:  All grown up and eyelids intact 

These are the aunties who bought me my first real makeup (Clinique, from the mall!)  even though it was supposed to be from my Grandma, who didn't realize I was old enough to actually wear it.   These are the people who love and spoil my daughters.  Who inspire me.  And, who, like me, LOVE their DOGS. Really!

In fact, this Christmas (it seems too soon to say last year) there were fourteen of us snuggled around the table, enjoying our usual fare, and within reach of every corner there was a dog---five, to be exact.

And these included:  Jack E Boy, of course.  And, YES, I made Dave brush and brush and brush and brush him to, hopefully, minimize his shedding.  I hope it worked!  Monsoon, my Uncle Ron's sweet, yellow lab.  She is SO sweet, in fact, that she was "released" from her training school,  where she was preparing for her future as a service dog,  because she  just wasn't assertive enough.   Lucky Ron!  (I'm mimicking my Grandpa Dahl here, but, sadly,  you don't know that, because you can't hear how that sounds in my head:)

(L) Monsoon, Me, (R) Jack E Boy (also victims of Aunt Brenda)

 Buoy, my dad's sweet, old, arthritic Fox Red Lab.  

Buoy, WAY TOO  COOL for hats.  So, he's sporting the holiday bandana--also made by Aunt Brenda

 Lodi, my cousin Nichol's goofy, five year old Weimaraner (definitely going to have to do a spell-check on this one).

Lodi, looking a little embarrassed

And, finally, Abby, the new addition.  She comes with my Aunt Andrea and she's a one year old Prince James, or King Charles, or some kind of royal spaniel...And she is ADORABLE, even when she is forced to wear a Santa hat. 

The baby:  Sweet Abby :)

Now for those of you who are not dog lovers,  having a house full of dogs during meal time (or any time, perhaps) may seem unthinkable.  But for us, it simply means everything is as it should be.

And for another year, it was.  I got to enjoy time with my wonderful family.   I got to eat Uncle Ron's lasagna, Dad's potato casserole,  Aunt Brenda's artichoke dip and Aunt Andrea's cherry dessert. Okay,  I don't actually eat the cherry dessert, because, apparently I am the only one in my family who doesn't like this dish.  (Please don't tell Ann)  But I would be sad to see it left out.  And don't worry, my Aunt Brenda makes enough Norwegian cookies to keep my sweet tooth satisfied.  

The ONLY thing that could make this night more perfect would be if my grandparents were still here to celebrate with us.  To see Anna ready to go off to college.  To see Nora Jane decorate Christmas cookies and gingerbread houses with their daughter, Brenda.  To see that their only son turned out pretty darn good.  But they are not.  And that's life.  Yet,  as I watch Nora Jane do art and make stamps with my Uncle Ron,  I realize that they are here--in each one of us--in the foods we share, and in the dogs we all love.

Until next year...