Aunt Cindy Visits!

What a pleasure it was to have Aunt Cynthia visit. The occasion was Mom's birthday, but Aunt Cindy stayed with us (as she did last time she visited Portland, prior to Suzanne's birth) and Barb and I got some quality hours with her.

Cindy has always been the parent-generation relative that seemed more like my generation. Even when I was quite young, I had the feeling that I was following in her wake, rather than leaving her and her type behind (as, I think, kids are supposed to feel about the prior generation as they forge the new reality). She's younger than Mom by a few years, but some combination of personality, happenstance, and experience (I imagine), rendered her modern in a way that my other (beloved!) relatives of her generation are not.

She's the cool aunt.

It was very comfortable having her as part of the household, if even for a few days. The girls seemed to enjoy her company. Cindy and Mom took a long drive out in the country. We went to the Chinese Garden and to the Hopworks Urban Brewery. Mom took Cindy to the Barley Mill. It was fun and satisfying.

Elizabeth flips through the guidebook at the Chinese Garden while Suzanne abides.

Our family.

The sisters consult.

Aunt Cindy reading to Mom a plaque on the subject of motherhood. I can't remember the particulars, but it was beautiful.

Tea with the Larrison girls.

Suzanne: Then and Now

March 19, 2011.

September 28, 2013.

Last Camping Trip of Summer

Sunset (or was that sunrise?) in the north woods.

I decided not to entitle this post "Last Camping Trip of the Year" because, who knows? This post is out of order, because I'm getting caught up on catching you, dear reader, up on our events of the last couple of months. There's a lot! For a family that likes to do less than the rest, we certainly have been active.

In early September, we went camping with Anson and Alder. This is most unusual! They live in Seattle, we live in Portland. Sometimes it seems like they live on the Moon, we live in Pellucidar. But we both made an effort, and met somewhere between the two cities in the beautiful, mossy, rain-soaked woods.

It was a long drive. The girls were fantastically well-behaved in the car, despite the fact that we only got out to stretch our legs once, and briefly at that. They are both good travelers.

Elizabeth was very excited to see our two friends. I think she admires Alder a lot, and feels that Anson vies with Pat for the title of Silliest Man Alive. Suzanne didn't know what to expect, but was game for anything.

We had a good time, just hanging out. There was a short hiking trail we managed to spend hours exploring (with a lengthy stop at the rocky riverside). The river was roaring and muddy from the recent rain. I had hoped to go swimming, but the water, even where it was not capped with white, was too muddy even for me. And it wasn't very hot, unless you were hiking in corduroys and a sweatshirt while carrying a 36 pound girl in footsie pajamas. Then it was hot.

Anson and I got to go on an adventure to find split firewood. The campground host was out of wood, so he pointed us toward a private party that sold wood cheap. A five mile drive through the backwood roads took us to an expansive property full of outbuildings and rusty equipment and cord upon cord of wood. A nice old fellow sold us some at five dollars per wheelbarrow-full. I think we spent $20 and filled the back of the Volvo practically to bursting.

Elizabeth listens intently to Alder reading Little House on the Prairie.

Little Camp in the Big Woods -- Barb bought a pavilion in case it rained. It didn't, but it was kind of fun to have, knowing we could shelter under it if the weather took a bad turn.

The Wood Nymph.

When the sun came out Saturday, the whole wood steamed.

Suzanne and Elizabeth inside a huge, rotten stump. They are hugging puppets (Oliver and Clara, respectively -- Joey doesn't travel much, being both fragile and too precious to chance losing). The inside of the stump was dotted with little red beads of fungus.

Mist on the river.

It's not camping without marshmallows. Surprisingly, Elizabeth likes her 'mallows burnt and black. The one pictured is undercooked to her. This is surprising because she likes her meat rare and her corn frozen.

Fingerknitting

Neither Barb nor I are sure how the idea of fingerknitting came to our attention. Our family is like a tiny solar system. We mostly exist in relation to each other, our planetary bodies swinging around in accordance with Newtonian law, every one influencing the other according to his or her mass and velocity. But occasionally new things transit our orbits, like it or not: asteroids of influence, comets of ideas.

Parents hear this over and over from other parents: "I don't know how she even learned about [the Disney princesses], but all of the sudden she was obsessed!" (It might have to do with the fact that [Disney] pays many very smart people six figure incomes to ensure that your daughter becomes obsessed with [Disney princesses]. And so in that sense the analogy breaks down, as well-paid alien intelligences aren't shooting comets full of biological memes into Sol's system.

Or are they? (cf. the works of Terence McKenna.)

But I digress!

Elizabeth, one way or another, became interested in fingerknitting. I'd never even heard of it. I don't think Barb had, either. It was referenced recently in an episode of Sparkle Stories, the excellent subscription storytelling service to which we've subscribed for a year or two. But I think that was a coincidence, not the originator of the idea.

So after watching with Barb a short instructional video on YouTube, she started knitting, and knocked that ball of yarn out of Knitter's Park. She quickly knit scarves for Joey and Clara (Clara's turned out to be too small, and Clara has a ruff around the neck of her outfit anyway, so Elizabeth gave Clara's to Rusty, who is surprisingly pencil-necked). Today, one day after she started knitting, Elizabeth presented me with a beautifully knitted headband that was big enough to go around the entirety of my noggin, which must have been quite an effort. My head is big around as a blue ribbon mushmellon.

Fingerknitting. The scarf-in-progress is descending from Elizabeth's fingers down the back of her hand. It could potentially go all the way to her elbow, or beyond! 

Joey's jaunty new scarf. Being from the tropics, he was most appreciative.

Elizabeth embracing Joey after he thanked her for his gift. There's a lot of love here.

Kindergarten

Elizabeth started full-day kindergarten over a week ago. She has been doing great with all of the changes, despite a double-whammy of painful urinary tract infection and head cold. She's going to bed earlier, getting up earlier, and having to get out the door on time in the morning. But the biggest change of all is just being away from Mom for six hours per day five days per week. That's huge, but Elizabeth is embracing her new lifestyle. She likes school, for which I am very grateful.

Her best friend Lily and some of her friends from preschool were originally slated to be in her class, but the class got too big and was split into two. Lily and Elizabeth's preschool pals were all moved into the new class. But Elizabeth didn't mind! She sees Lily on the playground at recess, and that's fine. (Barb and I -- and probably Lily's parents -- are kind of glad they were split up. Their friendship and sisterly competitiveness might have proven to be a distraction in the classroom.)

Tonight we went to an open house at the school, and Elizabeth eagerly showed off her seat, her cubby, some of her artwork, and, the things she was most eager to show, the tiny toilet, sink and water fountain. Suzanne was so psyched to see the toilet that she spent 15 minutes on it conducting business while a line formed outside. She didn't care. Suzanne is unflappable.

After the open house, we went to the playground, which was Bedlam: dozens of kids ranging in age from one to probably ten were swinging, sliding, jumping, running, in all directions. Elizabeth strode into the thick of it to show off her much improved skills on the monkey rings. I was proud of her bravery -- the playground was nuts.

I really liked seeing the school. It's an old building with lots of beautiful wainscoting in the halls, and it's bright and cheerful. I only said hello to Mrs. Doss, Elizabeth's teacher (because Elizabeth was dragging me across the room to see something), but she gave a good first impression.

I think it's going to be a good year.

Here's Elizabeth sporting her new haircut and practicing her reading.

Suzanne looking very comfortable in Elizabeth's seat in Mrs. Doss's Room 2. (No wonder she's comfortable: she's still wearing her nightshirt.) 

Elizabeth's portrait of her family. Two things are notable, and might make it worth your while to click on the picture to enlarge it: her drawing is fine-lined and detailed -- no crayons here -- and her family includes not only her sister and parents, and not only Joey, Clara, Oliver and Rusty (the puppets) but Handy and Lefty (Daddy's hands, which are puppets when no puppets are around) and Fingerman (which is just Daddy's first two fingers walking around -- he doesn't talk or have a personality, so I was surprised to see Fingerman included). God only knows what Mrs. Doss thinks. 

Elizabeth's self-portrait.

Suzanne and Tinker-Toes

Bridge Pedal 2013

The prior two or three years were a zoo; a disorganized, dangerous mess of bikes. Despite the efforts of the organizers, this year was no different. Six bridges, 13 miles, and 5000 bikes getting in each other's way.

It was still a lot of fun.

First, a seemingly endless wait to get to the start line. Then, basically walking our bikes three blocks to the Hawthorne Bridge. After that the pace picked up considerably until we hit the regular bottlenecks at steep hills and tight turns where the weaker riders (including the many in the four- to six-year old range) had to dismount.

This was the last year of Elizabeth riding in the Co-Pilot seat on my bike. She's too big, so she pushes me too far forward onto the narrow, uncomfortable part of my saddle.

This was also the last year of Suzanne riding in the Bobike seat on Barb's handlebars. Her knees press against the handlebars, causing discomfort.

Our girls are growing up!

It was nice having some family time with Pat. The girls love him so.

Despite the challenges, we'll do it again next year.