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Kind of looks like "writing everyday" is quickly descending into "writing when the stars align." I should probably tell you about the great camping trip we had last weekend (it was great, the weather was nice, the company was awesome, and we sang songs around the campfire) or how we purchased a mosaic from Moses's stepmom that I am very, very excited about because it is beautiful, or how Garion has now lost both of his upper front teeth and it is super-cute. (When he lost the second tooth last week, he wanted me to call the dentist.)
But, instead I'm going to impart my more recent observations about Flagstaff, a town that a year and half on I am still loving (until it snows again and then I retract that statement.) Partly this post was inspired by the above picture, which I randomly found on my camera memory card while importing photos of the camping trip. It's a batch of home brew conjured up by my husband who is presently sporting the "lumberjack" look. Yes, that's right: Moses has grown a beard and is drinking beer. And not just drinking beer mind you, brewing beer. And brewing it well.
And I'm thinking that these are sure signs we've gone native. Or gone back to native (seeing as we are actually from here to begin with). And then I started thinking about all the other quirks of this place and how you know when you belong here:
-You start drinking beer and enjoying it. I think this must be a function the altitude--maybe it goes with the country music?
-You think hiking boots and flannel are chic and appropriate for all occasions.
-"Designer" brands are Patagonia and The North Face.
-Every cute guy you see, including your husband, has a beard.
-You see it's 35 freaking degrees outside and think "oh, good, I don't need the long running pants yet."
-You know its summer because you can wear the cotton sweater instead of the wool one.
-You know you're home because you can spell the pine trees.
-You hear awesome live bluegrass at the local brewery (where you are indulging your new-found beer habit) and watch some chick in a little running skirt and trail shoes (chic) dance with an old hippie dude who sports a flannel shirt and a beard that goes half way to his waist (cute).
-You feel really, really bad for people who have to live in Phoenix.
-You finally figure out the guy at "Late for the Train" looks so familiar because he's also the guy at "Babbitt's" and possibly was at Christmas dinner last year at your sister-in-law's parents' house.
-You are happy that your house is still 65 degrees at night and you haven't had to turn on the heat yet (going to try to make to Nov. 1st before turning on the furnance).
-You go woodcutting. You think this is fun.
-If you grew up here, you constantly see people you went to high school with and some times you really have to psych yourself up to leave the house because you know chances are good you're going to run into them.
-You have to buy cute boots to cope with winter. And then knee-high socks to wear with the boots.
-Your husband approves of the cute boots because he thinks they're kind of hot (and really what is up with that? What in the world does he think I'm going to wear them with?)

Probably Best not to Ask Why

Me (after noticing a prolonged period of silence after the shower stopped): Garion, are you putting on your pajamas?
Garion: Oops- I forgot! Thanks!

Better Now, Must be the Boots

The boots are really, really cute--I might have to wear them today even though it's going to be 70 degrees.

But really, after yesterday's rant, things are looking up. I managed to get laundry folded and put away, Friday dinner made, and clothes packed for camping last night. Moses cleaned the kitchen (I am embarrassed to tell you how big a job that was, but it was big), found the camping equipment, and packed the camping equipment. We fed our dinner guest leftovers. The bathrooms probably won't be clean before we go, but I will live. All in all, much better today.

And also, look, I did it!:

Registration:	Kerry ********			Quantity:1
	P.F. Chang's Rock 'n' Roll Arizona - Full Marathon
	#526: 2010-Elite Racing Session
	Class:	1	Course Time Limit:	7:20
	Days:	Sun
	Starts:	01-17-2010 7:40AM-3:00PM
	Ends:	01-17-2010 7:40AM-3:00PM
	Location:	Full Marathon Start Line, P.F. Chang's Rock 'n' Roll Arizona Marat

I'm a little concerned about that "2010 Elite Racing Session" part--what does that mean? I put my estimated finish time in at 5:00 hours--pretty slow. Or at least I think I typed 5 hours. Watch, I'll be lining up with the Kenyans...that's not going to do a lot for my self esteem come race day.

Chaos

Things are hectic and I hate hectic. Really, really hate it. But I'm trying to stick to writing everyday, so I'm dashing off this quick post on how much I hate it when life is hectic. We're camping this weekend and the house is a disaster. So before we go, I would really like to:
-pick up
-clean the bathrooms
-put the laundry away
-clean the kitchen,
and I need to:
-make Friday dinner
-go grocery shopping
-find the camping equipment
-pack the camping equipment
-pack clothes.
But between now and camping, Garion has a dentist appointment and an open house at school and apparently we're having unexpected company for dinner tonight and nothing to eat but leftovers (and the house is a disaster). I'll also need to take time off work for the dentist and leaving early on Friday, which means I'll be behind at work, again, even though I haven't really caught up from being gone a couple of weeks ago and I also took on 4 extra-ugly case assignments this week. Argh.
On the up side, my new boots arrived today and they are super cute.

26.2: Thinking and Thinking and Thinking

I'm still thinking about doing a full marathon this year, but am having a hard time pushing myself over the first mental hurdle of signing up. September has been a training-free month for me; I've been running but not with a specific goal in mind and nothing terribly long. It's been kind of nice, but I'm not sure how well I'll keep it up without some sort of feat of athletic endurance on the horizon. And so today, I randomly came across a couple of things that make me think I should probably just take the leap:

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bow lines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” -Mark Twain
(To me, this does not sound sarcastic enough to really be Mark Twain, but I suppose that when you are discerning the metaphorical tea leaves of your life and seeking guidance from the Great Out There, as well as the random crap you read on the Internet, you can't be overly picky).

And:
Inaction is the surest path to failure. You cannot succeed if you never try.
grrrr. I know. But it's so much work.

The inherently lazy me is still thinking "that is such a long distance, that is so much training, I don't know if I can do it." And also, for the race I'm considering now, the longest run of the training schedule will be the day after Christmas, which seems like a not terribly auspicious time to run 20 (!) miles. At that time last year, there was something like two and half feet of snow on the ground. Although, on further thought, "longest run on the day after Christmas" could be moved to the "pro" column, considering Christmas is a little stressful and I usually eat a good amount of crap on Christmas day and a long run is a good cure for both of those ills, and a good excuse to ditch my family for a few hours (family, I love you!). And really, even if I can't finish a marathon, I will have lost nothing but some time and I can't really count that as a loss because I love cranking up my iPod and hitting the pavement, or treadmill, for some uninterrupted time to swim around in my own head. And also, it is possible that this will be something I'm only able to do for a limited time in my life; if I learned nothing else from breaking my back, I now know down to my bones that physical ability is a gift, and one you don't necessarily get to keep forever. (And also that sliding down an icy slope on a cheap piece of plastic crap is bad idea.) So, probably I should run while I can, and because I love to run, and because I feel better when I do, and to find out how far I can go because otherwise I will never know. But, dang, that is a really long way.

The Opposite of Attachment Parenting

We gave Garion a big boy bicycle, with training wheels, a couple of years ago for his birthday and of course had every intention of teaching him how to ride a two-wheeled bicycle. But we are busy people and it has seemed like we were either living in a place where there wasn't a lot of (safe) room to teach him to ride or the ground was buried under 3 feet of snow. Garion has recently made friends with a third-grade boy a few houses down who knows how to ride a bicycle, without training wheels, and the mastering of two-wheeled transportation has therefore become rather pressing. We did make one attempt a couple of months ago to take Garion to Buffalo Park to help him get the hang of two wheeled propulsion, but he was tired, somebody else was grouchy, and the whole thing was pretty much a bust. And the bicycle has sat in the garage, untouched, for two months (plus about 2 years).
Friday afternoon, after getting home from school, Garion said, "Mom, can I practice riding my bike?" Finally, we are living on both a non-busy street and one not currently buried in snow (yet). I said that he could practice but that I couldn't watch because I had some work things to finish up. He responded, "I know!", as is "duh, woman, that is the whole point." His friend from down the block was also out and riding his bike. Five minutes later, Garion came bursting in the door and said, "Mom, I did it! I can ride my bike!" I went out to watch and sure enough, he had it. Parental guidance, support, encouragement: completely, totally unnecessary. Toilet training and reading kind of worked the same way; pretty much nothing happened until Garion decided he was ready and then he just did it. So, I'm thinking that I now have official sanction to just coast, right? He's obviously brilliant, so I just feed him and water him for the next 12 years and he'll be good to go. Like a house plant, but more vocal.

Harry Potter and the Six Year Old Boy

After much begging, pleading, negotiating, and wheedling, Garion finally contrived a way to get me to approve viewing of Harry Potter movies. Here are the terms of our contract. He could not watch any of the Harry Potter movies until he had read the corresponding book and he had to start with book one. Further, he had to read some of the book himself (he read about 10% and I read about 90% to him--that's what happens when the parent gets sucked into the book as much as the kid). I also it made it abundantly clear that under no circumstances would we be reading past book three this year (too scary) and therefore he would not get to finish the Harry Potter books until he was older. This of course set off another round negotiations on how old is old enough to read the last books in the series; we have tabled these discussions for now. Finally, I told him he has to absolutely, positively quit asking me what happens in later books because I am not going to tell him, he'll find out when we get there.
He agreed to the above, and having finished book one, we are scheduled to watch the movie together tonight accompanied by a pizza dinner and beer (regular for me, root for Garion). I'm looking forward to it just as much as Garion is. My mom thinks the movies are too scary, but I already let the boy watch Star Wars about 10,000 times so the damage to his delicate psyche is probably already done--why start holding back now?
I've really, really enjoyed reading the books to Garion. Three cheers for books with plots! I love it when he laughs at the funny parts or says "cool!" when some new bit of magic gets introduced. I love going into his room in the morning to find him reading in bed because he wants to find out what happens next before going to school and I get a huge kick out of watching him play wands and spells and contemplating his latent wizard nature. And, I go all soft and gooey when he snuggles up to me and begs me to read more (which is every night without fail--weather I read 2 pages or 10, it is never enough) and gets that funny little puppy dog look. I know this time is so short and, tired as I am some nights, I know this is the time to soak it up and enjoy. Pretty soon he'll be reading to himself, thank you very much, Harry Potter will be old news and the last thing he'll want is for his mom to tuck him in and kiss him goodnight.

It's That Time of Year Again....

....where I start complaining about the cold. Temps are supposed to drop to 37 tonight and the leaves are already changing. I swear this happened practically overnight. I went to Coronado Island last week (where the weather was gorgeous and my mom and I had a great time, except for the part where I saw an 80 year old dude in a g-string at the beach--dude, after a certain point the world just does not need to see what you want to share), and when I came back....bang!, it was fall. I am not ready. I was cheated. Summer was particularly short this year: it didn't even start to get warm until late June, there was only one three-week run where I even considered wearing shorts everyday, then we went to Australia, where it was the dead of winter (I know, totally mine own fault), and now it's cold. It it won't warm up again until JUNE. Do you know how far away June is? REALLY FAR. And things are going to get way worse before they start to get better. I am going to have to buy some really cute boots to cope. Last year, I refrained from buying anything more that snow boots, but it's time to face reality; I am now mountain girl, no longer desert girl, and I'll be wearing that cute pair of boots way more than all my cute pairs of sandals put together (which will now probably last me the rest of my life because I hardly get to wear them). Cute boots will make it all better. I know they will.
***
I'm thinking about trying to post everyday for awhile, just to see what happens so you'll be seeing a lot of stupid posts like this. I'm something brilliant will bubble to the top with the junk. We'll see.