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To Neenie

A recent discussion about the weather of the PNW has prompted this post (I am on a bit of a roll this morning with thoughts I've had the past couple of weeks). My grandmother was known as "Neenie" to her 6 grandchildren. She cracks me up when I think of her. I can still hear her laugh. She wasn't a grandmother out of a movie or a book, or especially "grandmotherly" but she was my Neenie and she helped raise me as far as I am concerned and taught me many life lessons. I could go on, but the reason the weather brought up memories of my grandmother--well actually my grandparents-- follows:

Once again, I found myself in a discussion about how I liked our move to Washington. Invariably, the weather came up. Even the locals are quick to remind me that this summer was abnormal with temperatures 10 degrees lower than the norm and historically cold in the weather books. *sigh* This does little to make me feel as though summer has not gone missing! But getting back to my response of how I like the area--I do love it. We are getting to see a part of the world that I never in my mind thought we would. We have exposed our children to natural landscapes and monuments and culture that they never would have experienced without this move. We both believe the world is our playground and each place is another experience in the play. Our adventuresome souls will not be squelched by rain. In fact, I recently took one of my walks in the rain and it was wonderfully fresh and invigorating. Rain will not stop us.

But, all that being said, this move has made me feel more like a Southerner than any of our other moves. I like heat. Most humidity doesn't both me. I was watching the Clemson football game and everyone was in t's and shorts and it was a sunny 86 at 6 pm while I was huddled under a blanket in long sleeves while the leaves are already beginning to turn. I feel as though I am in an alternate universe to everything I know. AND THIS IS NOT A COMPLAINT. It's a statement of reality that goes back to my grandparents. To this day, my grandparents do not have air conditioning and they live in Columbia, SC. Almost every summer I was sent to SC to stay with my grandparents and I lived in 90-100+ heat with 90-100% humidity and loved it. You live a different pace of life. We got up early, enjoyed the semi-cool mornings, played, picked our veggies, ate lunch, rested, then got up later in the afternoon and played until the sun set. All without AC. See, I grew up with heat in my bones. Heat from the south makes the most decadent tomatoes of anywhere in the world. Heat grows corn that as sweet and succulent. Heat ripens peaches and nectarines that drool down your chin.

So, while I am loving every experience of the PNW, you will have to forgive my moaning about the weather--it's only because heat is apart of who I am in. It reminds me of my summers with my grandparents and it's strangely come to make me realize I really am a southerner--although for years, I wasn't sure. For me, that's not a bad thing.

All that being said, bring on the rain. I'm ready to take it head on. :)

A tribute to military wives

As I head out on my long-ish Saturday runs in DuPont, I invariably pass a line of American flags somewhere on my route that commemorates the soldiers of 5-2 SBCT that gave their lives in the War Against Terror. The first time I came upon the flags, they stopped me cold in my tracks. I had heard about a running group called, "The Run to Remember" as I have mutual friends with some of the founders, but this line of flags was a stark reminder that each week the wives, friends and family members run and train in honor of their lost soldiers.

The Run to Remember club was founded by a lady who lives in DuPont. I have actually heard of her over the course of the last year, although she does not know me. We have a mutual friend and I am always struck in awe of the way this girl has coped with the loss of her husband. He died two weeks (I think) after the birth of their third child. This amazing woman has gone on to cope by running it out. And she has pulled together the wives and friends and comrades of other women who have lost. These are amazing women. And they always smoke me on my run!:) You go girl!

These families are called "Gold Star Families" in the military. Those whose soldiers and sailors have given the ultimate gift for freedom. We do not think about these families often, but not a day goes by (I imagine) in their lives that they do not remember what it is that it has cost them. Most of them are incredibly proud, patriotic and strong. I cannot imagine a life without the Sailor. When I have tried to imagine it, my brain shuts off. Would I live my life with my brain shut off if this happens to us, or would I run?

At various points in the Sailor's career I have been thanked for my service, my sacrifice and I have never known how to respond other than an awkward thank you. The free cup of coffee, or the extra discount on services is much appreciated, but in light of the sacrifice that combat arms make each day, I find our service easy to give and not that much of a sacrifice.

Remember a Gold Star family in your thoughts and prayers today. If each of us had a weekly reminder on our walks and runs of what soldiers and sailors have given, we might not be quite so divisive in our daily lives.

Thar She Blows

I recently read a blog from a friend who commented on the sheer destruction that the mountains surrounding the PNW would wreck, should they blow. I tend to take doomsayers with a grain of salt, so I initially laughed this post off. However, this weekend, we took a jaunt down to visit Mt. St. Helena's....and now I've come to realize that my friend might be on to something. At one point on our trip we were on an observation point that I could turn and see not only MSH, but also Adams and Rainier. That doesn't include Baker and Hood and a couple of other smaller volcanoes that provide a lovely ring of fire in my new homeland. And then, as you turn to view the visage of MSH, the evidence of her destruction still exists. 30 years later, the trees are still blown over from the blast, the path of the lava has cut out a swath where little exists and very few new things grow. MSH herself is awesome that she is a bear rock of a mountain unlike the others. Weyerhauser (sp?) has done an impressive job of re-forestation, but everywhere you look, it's an eye-opener that many were very, very, very lucky that MSH is incredibly remote to many people. The toll of 57 lives could have been a greater. And people, that lovely lady is still smokin' and belching. She was steaming smoke while we were there from her crater.

I kind of had this impression that MSH had gone back to being a dormant mountain--done with her bellyache and fire and no, I am quite wrong. Even as she sits there, you can _feel_ that this mountain isn't done with her business. She's not sleeping. She's just waiting. It is a very disconcerting experience. And when we look at the beauty of Rainier everyday, it's hard to believe that this mountain would cause far more destruction than MSH. Not only is Rainier bigger, but it's on a path that could take out Auburn, Lacey, Ft. Lewis and parts of Olympia. I'm not too sure about Microsoft either. The impact on life, commerce, military/government, geography and weather would be stunning. And the scary thing that is if you look at the probabilities, we could potentially see Rainier go in our lifetime. That's a bit of an eye opener. They are all impressive without a doubt, but those mountains are linked and none of them are quiet. I am also told that if you look at Yellowstone, it is a supervolcano quietly rumbling beneath the earth's surface that is well overdue to blow. Should Yellowstone go, the entire west coast will go with it and we will be plummeted into a new ice age.

If this is survival of the fittest, then I'll be one of the first to go. In the mean time, I am sure some of the striking beauty and mysterious engagement of these mountains is the silent menace that few of us consider. Denial is surely not a bad thing and a few extra "Our Father's" probably doesn't hurt either. :)

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The 90% Solution

I have been meaning to write this blog forever. I cannot believe four weeks has slipped by without a natty comment on life in the PNW. Which is cold by the way. This is not a complaint, rather a statement of fact that I am acclimating to slowly. We arrived to the 40-50's. We have had three days of 80+ degrees in the last four weeks. I wore long sleeves and jeans for the fourth of July, which was a first in my lifetime. I have come to realize that for all of my vagabond roots, I am truly a southerner at heart. I thrive in heat and everyone else has a definition of humidity that differs from my own experience. If it's not 90% or greater, it's really not that humid. And if it's less than 80, it's cold. On the upside, my hair is not quite as frizzy as usual. :)

I am slowly coming to love this area. It's vastly different from anything I have experienced before. The days start grey and overcast--a long lasting fog from the cool air off of the Pacific. It takes most of the day for the sun to burn off the fog, but then the afternoons stay heated late into the evening and the sky is crystal clear. And if you are lucky and facing the right direction, THE MOUNTAIN appears. 'Round here, it's "THE Mountain" or "My Mountain." People own Mount Rainier. I have a secret belief that once upon a time, it really was pronounced "Rain-EE-r" but I think the locals got tired of the jokes and really it is "Ruh-nEER." or so my twang pronounces it. Regardless of your pronunciation, THE MOUNTAIN is unbelievable. I can only imagine the Native American stories about it. It is unlike any mountain I have ever seen before. Sometimes it appears to be floating out of the sky, at other times, it looks like it is smoking, still others it looks bigger than the day before. It is a constantly changing giant that looks benevolently down upon us all. You NEVER get tired of seeing her and a glimpse of THE MOUNTAIN after a particularly dreary day can lift the spirit of anyone. I have a friend who blows kisses at her. Our first hike around Paradise in Mount Rainier had 10 feet of snow still on the ground on the trails. We slipped and slid and hiked our way through it giggling like the silly southerners that we are, in which snow is a constant surprise.

We have been welcomed with open arms in this community. I have noted before that the PNW has some of the best customer service and friendliness of service people of any place I have ever lived. This extends to the military community who have gotten us involved and belonging right off the bat. I thank them all. It's one of the things that I love most about being military. Instant Friends! Free food! Free parties! Free advice! I have never felt like I did not have a home in the military, even when I am homesick for my kin.

And so, I am closing with the 90% solution. The house is mostly unpacked. It's somewhat organized, it's certainly ready for guests, but that last 10% of unpacking will probably remain that way until 6 months before the next move. And every military wife knows what I am talking about, unless they are superwomen, somehow, life sort of catches up with you and that last 10% gets shoved into a corner of the garage or the attic or drawer and maybe it will get there, but the 90% solution means my house is livable, there is beer in the fridge, food for random guests and a home has been created.

Home of the I Corps

Well, we arrived last night to Tacoma, WA, which is about 10 miles and change from where we will live outside the gates of Fort Lewis or Joint Base Lewis McChord or the home of I Corps, the Army’s First Corps, although it’s never called that.  It’s called “Eye” (phonetically) Corps for my non-military peeps.  It is by far the largest Army or Navy installation that I have ever lived on or near.  It’s huge.  I had a crisis of military wife personality upon arriving at the PX (Post Exchange) after getting a “Welcome Packet” and getting the Sailor a regulation hair cut.  My crisis (which I think I have every time we move) is the realization that while everything is achingly familiar on an Army base (Anthony’s pizza, O’Charley’s, PX, commissary, etc) it is never quite the same as where you left, or quite the same lay out or quite the same design.  I was overcome by a sense of panic and anxiety that “by golly I am a fish outta water!”  I am not sure that I can explain that sense of familiarity juxtaposed with unfamiliarity in a new environment compounded by fatigue, a to-do list out the wazoo, and uncertainty of when everything will level out.  I am somewhat proud though, that I have at least reached the level of maturity, or numbness, in which I now know that this too shall pass.  I soon will be able to tell what aisle the toilet paper resides and the best day to miss the crowds and which gate will be fastest, but it is a matter of time.  And if anyone knows me, patience isn’t exactly my best virtue.  Give me a bit and I will get there.

That being said, I have to say one of the best things that I love about the area and an impression that I left when I last visited the area for work was the sheer impressiveness of customer service and kindness by everyone in the service industry.  Now y’all know I am from the south and we are pretty well known for our hospitality, but I have to say, the PNW really caps it.  There is sincerity to every individual I have met and the desire to give 110% whether it is in food service, at the library or in giving directions.  These are the nicest people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. 

The drive in yesterday was wet and cold – appropriate for our arrival to the PNW.  We considered stopping along the way but the kids wanted to do the complete drive from Montana to Washington – and they cheered loudly when we crossed into Washington, only to be disappointed when they learned that we had 300 more miles to drive.  When we finally got into Tacoma (and survived the rush hour traffic), we checked into our downtown hotel with a beautiful view of the harbor and sound (thanks to Priceline) and then enjoyed a waterfront dinner with one of my good friends.  After dinner, Mr. Hawking was walking into the hotel and accidentally let go of his helium balloon in the hotel lobby – and cried as it slowly floated up 40 feet against the expansive ceiling.  There was nothing we could do, but I did notice the looks of sympathy from the front desk and the lobby bar.  About five minutes after getting to our room, the front desk called and asked me to come back downstairs.  Everyone at the bar felt so sorry for Mr. Hawking that the hotel staff used a tall ladder and a telescoping pole to retried the balloon.  That’s the hospitality I’m talking about!

We have had a successful first day of transitioning.  We are now ensconced at the hotel in which we will reside for the next week in anticipation of our household goods (HHG) arrival.  If you think military wives know how to make a house a home in short order, you should see what they can do with a hotel for the duration.  Our house is gorgeous.  It is going to be fun and challenging to find a place for our stuff, but we are up to it.  We both have library cards, the kids have dentist appointments, I have found dates for camps, we have an eye on some churches to try this weekend, I have most of my Child and Youth Services paperwork complete and I have a line on some babysitters.  Things are going well so far.

Tomorrow will be inprocessing, getting the truck, meeting some JAGs and their wives, running errands and praising God for Friday.  I have found my sense of calm again after my moment of personality disorder earlier in the day and I am confident that this will be a new and good home for us.  The door is always open.

As an aside—if you are amused by my rants as a military wife, you MUST read Allison Buckholtz’ “Standing By.”  Her story is about the struggles as a Navy wife, but she does such an excellent job touching on topics that are near and dear to every military wife that I would put this at the top of my must read list.  I have alternately cried and laughed out loud.  Her prose is excellent and she makes me look like a writer for the National Inquire compared to a Shakespearean great.  I highly recommend the read.

Home sweet Washington

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Idaho

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Idaho

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Let me Tell you about Huckleberry Pie

Before I get on track with my storytelling (which has been the absolute truth thus far), let me tell you about Huckleberry Pie. All throughout Montana and Wyoming, there have been cafes advertising huckleberry pie. I am not usually a pie person as I find that most people make the dessert too sweet, so I have put off any association with huckleberries thus far—although I did have a taste of huckleberry ice cream and did not think much about it—so I have been reluctant to try anything else. But on our last dinner in Montana, I decided to give it a go for dessert. My diet is shot anyway, I might as well enjoy it. SWOON. Let me tell you about homemade graham cracker crumb crust, a thin layer of cream cheese filling topped with a thick layer of huckleberries. Oh Lord. Sin on a plate. It was so good. I am salivating as I write this. I could have eaten the entire pie in one sitting. It was that good and I doubt I’ll ever have anything like it again. The Café was called Luna’s in East Glacier park. The Sailor dined on Buffalo Bratwurst while I tried a local Indian dish that was a puffed flour tortilla, topped with chili and salad. Yummy! It probably wasn’t very healthy, but it sure was good. The kids enjoyed a cheese quesadilla, but their true delight was in learning that we would be driving to Washington and moving into our home a week later. LMS was dancing in the restaurant when she heard that and Mr. Hawking has declared that only he and LMS are allowed on the playground. They are super excited.

Prior to the dinner festival, we enjoyed a hike to Baring falls and Sunrift Gorge on the Eastern side of Glacier as well as a picnic on Two Medicine Lake, a drive through of the eastern side of the Going-to-the-Sun Road and Many Glaciers. What an incredible relaxing and peaceful place. Even the fits of my children were quickly dispelled amongst Father Mountain (s) and Mother Earth. And the funny thing is that my kids are perfectly content to skip rocks in lakes, rivers, puddles and any source of water than anything. Mr. Hawking loves to hike, but LMS gets carried around by daddy wherever she goes. She has him wrapped around her little finger.
We are leaving Montana today in hopes of making it to Washington and/or Dupont tonight. Even the kids have said they would rather spend one long day in the car instead of two shorter ones. We will see how it goes. The weather is an apropos arrival to the Seattle area—it is pouring down rain, so we would not have been able to do much hiking either way.

Some random thoughts I realized that I have forgotten: we now have pictures of the Montana State University stadium. We only did a drive by of the University of Montana stadium. I think the Sailor must have been tired of driving as well. He has been trying to convince me to detour down to Boise State to see the blue field. I roll my eyes. And if one more person tells me that we should turn around and go back to Omaha for the baseball game, I will tell them that they can drive around with my kids for three weeks in a small car while I check myself into a spa for the duration. While I am thrilled that Clemson has made the College World Series in Omaha, NE, I am NOT turning around. Ain’t happening folks. Not to mention the Army owns the Sailor—helloooooooooooo!!!!!

While driving through Bozeman, we HAVE to recommend the Museum of the Rockies. This is the coolest collection of dinosaur bones in the US. They have a full T-Rex skeleton on display and parts of 16 others including the oldest known T-Rex to have been found. Its head is HUGE. The interesting thing I learned is that T-Rex was probably a carrion predator rather than an executionist—it cannot run fast, nor use its forehands well enough to fight a live animal. To my dear friends the Pretes—if LL is still into dinos, this is a must do when you come to see us.

We have also been following the World Cup, but like many of our military friends we are perplexed by the lack of frenzy in the US as we experienced overseas. The last world cup match we watched was in 2002 at the Athens airport with Germany playing Brazil for the final. People were GLUED to the TV and it was a party in the Airport. I am sure people missed flights for the game. It’s a great experience and we kind of wish our American brothers and sisters got into it too. Ah well. Cest la vie!

Glacier

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Is there any coincidence that Montana and Mountain have the same abbrevi

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Rainbow Road

June 14, 2010  Rainbow Road

Or Rainbow Lake or Rainbow River—I think that is what the rivers and lakes in Glacier National Park should be called.  The stones that have been washed or oxidized the limestone come in every shade of the rainbow.  There should also be a Mirror Lake instead of McDonald and Flat Head Lakes as you can see a perfect mirror of the mountains in the lake.  I have only see a lake this still and clear in my life once before in Germany.  It’s an amazing sight.

I couldn’t quite place my finger on the difference between Glacier and Yellowstone/Tetons at first and then it dawned on me how much more peaceful the area is in relationship to its southern sisters.  Glacier, first off is quiet.  The forest is dense and old and many sounds are muffled.  On top of that it doesn’t reek of the tourism of Yellowstone and people are not on a mad pace to see everything that Yellowstone has to offer in a short period of time.  I find Glacier extraordinarily peaceful and calming.  My favorite part of the day was building a dam with Mr. Hawking in the river’s edge.  It was so much fun diverting the water flow and polishing new rocks and looking at the marvelous colors.  We literally could have spent hours together doing this, but we had a hike to finish through the Cedar trail and then on to a boat trip on McDonald Lake.

The Cedar Trail was amazing.  This forest has trees that are hundreds upon hundreds of years old.  There are waterfalls everywhere which we all adore.  And it was the perfect length for my two rug rats.  We’ve decided to change Little Miss Sunshine (LMS) to Little Miss Know-it-All, since she corrects us on context all of the time.  Today, when we were discussing going home following the boat trip, she informed us quite imperiously that we don’t have a home, we have a hotel.  These types of comments have been happening a lot lately.

Our boat trip was guided by an 84 year old park ranger named Doug.  He has been a ranger at Glacier for 51 years.  His knowledge and stories of the park are amazing and you can see that he feels as he has grown old and changed, the park has too.  I think he will be quite happy to die in this park.  He was so cute.  I could have just given him a bunch of kisses and hugs.  He was so adorable.  Although I am not sure an 84 year old man would like to be considered adorable.  We’ll see!:)

We are unable to complete the Going to the Sun route since the Logan Pass is still snowed in.  Yes, Jane, it is June and yes, there is still snow in the mountains.  In fact, we are a tad concerned about one route to Lewis that has been snowed in this past week….hmmmm…The Sailor assures me that this won’t be a problem.  We did the first 15 miles of the Going to the Sun Road today and tomorrow we will drive around to St. Mary’s to do the Eastern entrance and as far as it will allow us to go as well as a couple of hikes.  I have yet to find Elk Medallions.  I am a tad sick of Lunchables that we take on our hikes.  Easy and cheap, but I am sure my cholesterol is through the rough.

An addendum to the Yellowstone trip: I forgot to mention that on our last day in Yellowstone we drove to the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone.  You step out on these viewing boxes to see this amazing Grand Canyon and two extraordinary waterfalls.  Unfortunately, I am plagued with depth perception issues and heights make me a little nervous.  Stepping out over this gorge immediately sends my head into a tizzy and I literally felt the bottom fall out of my stomach.  I thought I might hurl.  UGH.  What a terrible sensation for such an amazing view.  We got to see an osprey nest and every time the babies ran up to the edge to see the gorge and waterfalls, mommy almost had a heart attack.

And the Sailor was relieved to get a text message as we left Glacier finding out that the Tigers are off to Omaha.  If only we didn’t have to be in Washington this week, we’d be backtracking to Omaha – so the Sailor says!

The Volvo’s issues keep mounting.  The passenger side window is now cracked.  In case you haven’t been keeping up, the list of issues as is follows on this trip:

Engine Light comes on and off; electrical surge with warning of LMS’s door being opened when closed, air bag failure, lights coming on, passenger side mirror fell off and broke and has been replaced by one that is not the right size, coolant issues, electric window on passenger door broken and now a broken window.  Oh, and my car got backed into.  I must note that in driving my Volvo the last 5 years I have not had ONE problem with this.  I take it in to ensure that it’s all ship shape for the trip and look what happens.  I still love my car, but really.  This is ridiculous.

On the upside, I am so relaxed from Glacier, I don’t seem to care.  We’ll be at Fort Lewis by Thursday and I have a hold list of shinola to take care of.  And now, if transportation would only call us to schedule the delivery of our household goods, we will be right as rain.