The inaugural push

If you've not clicked the link in the previous post, you'd better. And if you have, you'll understand perfectly why we spent Saturday night pushing the Tercel. There are some things in life that are too good to pass up; Club T is one of them.

Since we're too far away to join in the festivities a few days a week at the official club headquarters, our plan is to get in serious practice and training here at home. That way, when we do have the opportunity for sanctioned participation, we'll blow our previous times out of the water. As they say, the only thing that ever sat its way to success was a hen.

Derek is crazy.

He is also straight out of the awesomeness factory. You can't be one without the other, I've often found. Anyway, here's the proof:

PUSH ON, COMRADES, PUSH ON

Gus and the ocean

That's a misleading title, and I will explain: Gus has not been to the ocean. In fact, neither Jan Michael or (nor?) I have been, and neither has my sis (recently, I mean). It's just that my parents spent last weekend at Cannon Beach, basking in the sun and warmth, and now I'm drooling and fending off the compulsion to toss my husband and toothbrush in the car and hustle down there. But since we can't go, at least not this minute, I've stolen some of their pictures. It makes me happy to look at them.


And now about Gus: I see it's been almost a month since he's made an appearance on here, which is far too long. Here is never-before-seen footage of his charm and cleverness. Have I mentioned that we love him?

Heigh ho, heigh ho

Today I decided that sunny spring days are the very best for getting things done. In the winter I prefer to stay in the bathtub all day and in the summer I like to spend my time hiking around waterfalls while eating ice cream cones. There seems be something, though, about warm spring Saturdays that make me want to be responsible and accomplish important business. And so this afternoon I mowed the lawn. This is of particular significance because I usually get out the lawn mower for the first time around Memorial Day and then put it away again for the winter in late August. I feel confident in saying, then, that our neighbors have all keeled over from shock; I wish them all a speedy recovery. And while I was slogging through 8 inches of grass on the ground, Jan Michael was high in the sky, engaged in hand to hand combat with the colony of moss that's taken up residence on our roof. Next we'll have to tackle the flower beds, which will take both of us working together and then some, since our fervent hope is that our neighbor won't have to come knocking on our door like she did last summer, weed wacker in hand, politely asking if she might cut down our thistles since they were encroaching on her yard.

I especially like this one because I can see my Jan Michael's shadow on the roof :)

Spring

It's 6:00 in the evening at the beginning of March. The sun is still shining over our heads, and our little valley is humming with life: lovely, blooming things and chirping birds and rushing, tumbling water in the creek at the bottom of the hill. The two of us are really so priviledged to live where we do.


'First a howling blizzard woke us,
Then the rain came down to soak us,
And now before the eye can focus -
Crocus.'
- Lilja Rogers