Slow commuting

Usually I hit the road headed to work and home, sharing the two-lane highway with fellow work- and home-bound people, a couple pick-up trucks filled with firewood and the occassional logging truck. Last week I shared the road - at a much slower pace - with a horse-drawn wagon.

The first time I passed the wagon we near the Idaho-Washington border near Newport, Wash. Two days later I passed him while he was *refueling* (photo above) near Riverside High School along Highway 2. A distance that usually take me about 25 minutes took him two days.
This weekend we found him camped at the local Big R store. We were all interested in knowing more about him and saw him on the news when we got home. You can learn more about him at www.leehorselogger.com.

My shoes

I am wearing a pair of shoes.
They are ugly, uncomfortable shoes.
I hate my shoes.
Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.
Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step.
Yet, I continue to wear them.
I get funny looks wearing these shoes.
They are looks of sympathy.
I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs.
They never talk about my shoes.
To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable.
To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them.
But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.
I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes.
There are many pairs in this world.
Some women are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them.
Some have learned how to walk in them so they don't hurt quite as much.
Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by before they think about how much they hurt.
No woman deserves to wear these shoes.
Yet, because of these shoes I am a stronger woman.
These shoes have given me the strength to face anything.
They have made me who I am.
I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.
~Author unknown

Audrea Makenzie Holestine would have turned 12 today.

Mmmmm, salsa

It was a late night in the kitchen making salsa. I have spent a few years perfecting a salsa recipe that is just right for our needs.

This salsa contains tomatoes, onions, green and yellow bell pepper, banana peppers, garlic and jalepeno pepper. I usually make one batch that has habanero peppers. Spice it up! It is a fairly plain recipe, which makes it more versatile for cooking and enjoying straight out of the jar.

Most of this will get used straight out of the jar and onto chips or quesadillas. I usually add fresh cilantro. Sometimes I add avacado or shrimp just to change it up. I can also use this in recipes were I need to add other spices, herbs or seasonings without the salsa overpowering everything else. Like salsa baked chicken, Spanish rice or to spice up meatballs.

Coming of age

All day we were peppered with questions as Keeli tried to make sense of the birthday event. What time is my birthday? Where is my birthday? Who is making my birthday? How many minutes until my birthday?

Keeli turned 5 today. Over the years, we have attempted to make birthdays about a celebration of time with family and building memories together rather than the expectation of gifts. Hopefully someday, she has many happy memories of today.

Tatum and Keeli created a sidewalk chalk mural celebrating Keeli's momentus occassions and announcing the big event to the entire neighborhood.
A large portion of the afternoon was devoted to cake baking and decorating. Everyone had a hand in stacking layers, frosting and sprinkling. Some even volunteered to eat the left over frosting. We left the combustible stuff to dad and the fire suppression to the birthday girl. We opened two presents, including a birthday card packed with cash and tiny sea shells from Nana Linda, who is currently in the Bahamas. Amazingly two of the shells survived the USPS.

And, in case you forgot, it was Keeli's 5th birthday today. 5.

And, so it begins...

Bikes, helmets, backpacks, lunches and we were off! The kids are excited about returning to school. I spent my bike-ride to school today reminiscing about my 5th grade teacher Mr. Baerlocher and my 3rd grade teacher Mrs. Farnam. They are mostly good memories - although there are a few funny stories that could never happen in a modern classroom without loss of job or criminal charges. My fondest memory of Mr. Baerlocher was his naming a "student of the week" and treating the students to dinner and activities (many of us chose a trip to the skating rink). Mrs. Farnam is known to generations of children for her vice like loving hugs and her preference for straight pins over staples.

Tatum is now in 5th grade. She knows several of her classmates and is pleased with the teacher she was assigned. There was a bit of a fashion dilemma this morning over which tennis shoes to wear with her jeans.

Of course our day wouldn't have been complete without another dash of drama! The nylon zipper on her lunchbox broke. There are a few broken zipper teeth and the pull is completely removed from 1/2 the zipper. It was a struggle (literally), but we managed to get the zipper to work for today.

Getting to Rikard's classroom was a challenge. First we had to stop and see his 2nd grade teacher and give her a big hug. He missed her all summer. Then it was back to roaming the halls and searching for his new classroom. We eventually found it.

Rikard is so excited to have a male teacher for 3rd grade. He claims his new teacher is the best teacher because he wears kids clothes, go to recess and eats peanut butter sandwiches. Hopefully he has some mad teaching skills (and a lot of patience) hiding under that kid-friendly facade!