A Few Scars of Life

 Once when I was about three years old (my mother told me), I was running across our living room, and in an early incident of what eventually became my trademark clumsiness, I ran into our wood stove.

It was in the middle of winter, so the stove was hot.  As my mom always did like a very warm house, I am sure that the iron of the stove was just a touch shy of being orange with heat (oh, for the good old days *non-sarcastically thought*).

Instead of jerking away like a normal person (Mom also recounted), I stood there a touch longer than a rational mind would have demanded before pulling away and screaming (I've been told I had an especially nerve shattering scream in my early youth).

As I sit here 34 years later, I still have the scar that runs across the top of two of my fingers on my right hand.

Around age 4ish here...
sporting a classic backwards wig.

Once when I was about nine years old, I decided that I was going to take my cat Sophie fishing with me.  Whether she wanted to go with me or not (and she didn't), I did not care.  Finding anyone else to go with me that particular day had proved impossible, and I wanted company.  Plus I had this romantic vision of future summer days, with Sophie trotting along my side as we made the trek down the railroad and through the bushes to my favorite fishing spot.  She was going to be better than ANY dog, because she was the one pet of our family that only belonged to me.  I just had to be persuasive and show her how great it could be. We were going to break through all of the stereotypes of how "cats hate water" and "cats follow no man (or girl)".

There was no way she was just going to follow me that day (first try and all), so I decided a leash was probably my best bet.  Unfortunately, carrying my fishing pole and gear while dragging my cat by the neck proved to be somewhat difficult.  Sophie responded not at all to my coaching and encouragement.  Eventually, she stopped pulling away from the leash, and instead let herself be drug like dead weight.  My "compassion" and frustration finally kicked in about two blocks away from my house.  Picking her up, I awkwardly held the still docile (probably oxygen deprived) cat under one arm, while trying to hold on to my fishing pole and tackle box with the other hand.

Our house was about seven (?) blocks from the dirt road that eventually led to the place where I cut across to the railroad tracks where I would normally do a tight rope walk across a railroad beam for about a half mile before bush whacking my way down to the edge of the first pond.  I would then bypass the first three ponds to the very end pond where all of the best perch and sunfish were.  I would then walk the whole length of that pond to the very end, where the BEST best fish were.  What I am trying to express here is that it was no small jaunt to my favorite fishing spot, even in the best of circumstances.

Another one of my personality "trademarks" often commented on as a child was my stubbornness (other variations I often heard:  tenacious, willful, strong willed, pig headed).  This particular trait added to the stupid circumstances (limp cat + fishing pole + tackle + epic journey to fishing pond) was nearly the death of me this day.  By the time I made it to my destination, I was sweaty and mad and in no mood for fishing for anything.  The troubles of my trek had begun to make me doubt my original vision of  Sophie as the perfect fishing companion, so I was disillusioned and a little depressed.

The sun was hot that day.  I remember laying down along the edge of the water, letting my feet soak in it's coolness while I lightly pinned Sophie to the ground with one hand so she wouldn't be tempted to escape.  My recovery time in those days was quick.  I had only been laying there for around five minutes, when I started to hear the sounds of the pond over my own heavy breathing.  Realizing that some of the sounds were very close to me, I forced myself to breathe softer and quieter.  Slowly lifting myself to my elbows, I carefully scanned the water directly in front of my soaking feet.

Predatory excitement quickly filled me.  Not even four feet in front of me perched about four little frogs, croaking without a care in the world.  Visions of catching them filled my head.  Hope also filled my heart because perhaps these frogs, once presented to Sophie as a plaything to share (I realize my treatment of animals in this story is one step shy of sociopathic), would finally make her understand my dream of a girl and her cat playing by the pond all summer.

Sophie- The Non-Avid Fishercat

There was a dilemma, however.  If I released Sophie so I could actually go into the pond to catch the frogs, she was sure to dash off and miss the awesome bonding opportunity that the frogs presented.  The only answer I could come up with (other than trying to find a tree to tie her to, and there weren't any close enough) was to carry her with me into the pond and try to catch a frog one handed.  This seemed like a legitimate idea to me because a) I was a REALLY good frog catcher with a lot of experience and b) up to this point, Sophie had been extremely compliant and docile.

Gathering her back under my arm, I took a very slow cautious step into the pond, not wanting to scare the frogs.  They stayed right where they were, filling me with the confidence that this could be done.  The rocks under my feet were slimy, but if I curled my toes around their sharp edges just right, I could move along fine.  Slowly I picked my foot up for my next super quiet covert step.  THAT was the unfortunate moment Sophie seemed to snap into full awareness.

It was the perfect storm.  Under my arm, the cat who had been so inert suddenly burst into a panicked hurricane of claws and teeth.  This sudden attack/distraction made my careful toe gripping falter.  As soon as my toes lost their grip on the edge of the rocks, I began to slide backwards.  I'm sure it happened in the blink of an eye, but the moment felt much longer as my arms flailed around wildly, trying to keep the inevitable from happening.

The first casualty was Sophie.  The moment she hit the water, I'm sure that all of her suspicions were cemented that my 'girl + cat +fishing together during summer' plans were in fact a terrible idea.  The next casualty was my foot.

As I crawled out of the pond completely drenched (Sophie had got out of there in mere milliseconds, and was no where to be seen already),  I lay down at the edge before taking stock of any damages.  Since my foot felt a little funny, I sat up to look at it, but at the sight of the thick red stream running down the side I had to lay down again.  I laid there for awhile, waiting for the black spots and dizziness  to recede (the sight of my own blood had me panicked).  When I felt I could handle it, I sat up and looked closer at the injury.  Gingerly I bent over to see how bad the damages were, and as I brushed away the blood and pulled against the cuts (there were two), they spread wide open.

Black and red spots again filled my vision.  After taking some time to insure I wouldn't pass out, I got up and hobbled to whole journey back home again, only this time unencumbered by either cat (who eventually made it home all by herself), or fishing pole/tackle (I was FAR too injured to carry anything, at least in my own mind I was).

About a block from my house, I looked back and saw the small trail of blood from my foot peppering the streets of Paradise.  It occurred to me that this was a very dramatic situation.  I hadn't felt much pain up to this point, but the constant hopping on my good foot during the journey home was really starting to emphasize a throbbing pain in "the injury".  I began to imagine the shock on my mother's face as I limped through our door; her fallen daughter who had lost so much blood.  The whole thing started to make me feel weepy.

By the time I actually walked through the door for real, I had streams of panicked tears running down my face.  Mom was in the living room watching TV, so instead of hearing me open the door and and then running to me in a wave of motherly worry (as envisioned),  I had to alert her to my emergency with a panicky "I'M DYING" voice that was sure to get the appropriate response for the seriousness of the situation.  Before the shrill "MOOOOOOOOM" had finished leaving my mouth, she was was already in front of me with a very satisfying took of terror on her face, chanting "WHAT'S WRONG?"  over and over.  It was a very dramatic moment for me.

Finally a look of clarity came over her face (I had been her daughter a long time, and this wasn't the first occurrence of a freak out from me).  She stepped back and took in my wet/smelly, dirty appearance, and then noticed the red stream leaking out of my foot onto her kitchen floor (mixed with dirt, with several blood/dirt foot prints already stamped around me from the times I had forgot to hold my injured foot up to avoid the extreme pain that was sure to follow touching it to the ground.  As I openly wept, I began to hear my mom's then calm voice telling me things like "calm down Rachel", and "You'll be alright, it's just a little cut".  This wasn't my mom's first rodeo.  I was her kid number five; she'd had plenty of moments just like this.

I soon found myself in the back seat of our Dodge Aries with a towel wrapped around my bloody appendage, en route to the emergency room at our local hospital.  Long story short, I had to get about thirteen stitches that day (which, if memory serves me, I took very nobly and without crying).  The wounds actually healed up very quickly, but to this day I still have two straight little scars running down the side of my right foot.

And that is the story of how I caused my second set of scars.

Busy Busy Busy

I keep meaning to post something in here, but it seems to keep getting pushed off of the list.  There are many things I have on this "list", such as returning emails (in an embarrassingly late fashion)and developing pictures of the kids I took over a month ago and sending them out (also embarrassingly late).  I know there are more things on this "list", but I my brain isn't going to reveal them again to me until the usual 3 a.m. time slot.  I do know I have a constant dull nagging trying to get me to clean this house, as in the REAL clean instead of this surface clean I have perfected.  Let's just call it "summer clean" in here right now.  I have way more important and fun things to do that toil around in here, creating instantly destroyed perfection and missing out on the three months of sun granted to me in the mean time.

We've been really busy so far this summer, and it looks like it is going to stay that way.  We've spent a lot of time in the water, in classic summer fashion.  We went up to Lake Mary Ronan and spent the day with Dad and Renae a couple of weeks ago.  We rented paddle boards (sooo fun!), and took our canoe and Dad's little fishing boat out on the lake for some late afternoon fishing.  We were hoping for Kokanee Salmon but they weren't biting that day.  We did catch a bucket of perch, so it was still a fun time.  So far that has been one of my favorite days.  We went horseback riding the next day, which was also very fun.  We were so wiped out by the end of it that we all took three hours naps; most satisfying.

The kids seem to be having a good summer (?).  I compare all the stuff we do as a family to my childhood and I wish I could zap my memories into their heads so they could see just how unboring it really is around here... *sigh*  Not that there was anything wrong with how I spent my summers as a kid, but we rarely ever left Paradise to go camping or travel or anything else.  My days were spent riding my bike all over town, fishing in the pond behind the town, and exploring the river and mountains- mostly by myself.

I know that sounds pretty great to Derrin.  He is 12 going on 13, and this summer I can tell he is starting to get bummed that he isn't allowed to go very many places by himself.  I feel like we try to counter that by doing lots of fun stuff with both of the kids.  He gets to go more places and do more things than I ever did, it's just that he has his parents with him most of the time.  What a big bummer.  This growing up thing is going to be hard on us both.  Just the thought of him riding his bike to the store by himself makes me have heart palpitations.  Visions of the bad drivers sharing the road dance across my head, convincing me that letting him go anywhere by himself will mean sure and imminent death.

The truth is, I do trust him.  He is a smart kid, and totally capable of taking care of himself.  I just don't trust the rest of the world. I am going to have to eventually let him start venturing out by himself alone... but let's not let it be this summer.

They've both had friends over, and also spent the night at their friends houses.  I think that helps more than anything.  Both of the kids are just so social, they start wilting after too many days of not seeing their friends- especially Derrin.  Oh-well.  We will do what we can do. I know I am having a great summer so far, and all of the pictures I've been taking will prove to my grown up children that I was a rockin' parent.  Haha:)

And without further rambling, here are a few snapshots of our summer so far:

I wish it was always and forever like this out there.  July is already burning up the hills.

Beauty.  

My three babies

Our rhododendron bush while it was still blooming and beautiful.

Derrins OBSESSION... photo taken by and for... Derrin (a random citizen's car)

Riding the carousel with our friends :)

Feeding the ducks during a service break.

Daddy-o, enjoying the shade

Rainy giving it a try

Derrin and Derrick paddle boarding

Some of my flower gardens this summer

Kloe's new disclaimer and greeting for her bedroom... enter at your own risk!!

Our horseback riding day.

Silly horses

Sabrina took me to a Bare Naked Ladies Concert!!!

We were up front and center- he even looked  at little ol' me (well my camera anyways) while I snapped a shot

Shannon, Kloe and I hiked clear to the top and over the M- pretty intense hike.  Kloe said it's the last time, but maybe  next year we will give it another try?

Indian Paintbrush... taken on a family drive into the woods last weekend.

What I CAN Control

Sometimes this world offers us a situation that rocks our world because evil has shown it's face, and we struggle knowing we have very little power to keep it from showing it's face again.

The knowledge that some madmen shot and killed 20 precious little kids last Friday in Connecticut is devastating.   Yesterday at work, I was browsing some news articles during a quiet moment, and clicked into an interview of one of the little girl's parents.  How I thought I could handle that, I don't know, but the next thing I knew I was in the bathroom unable to stop crying.  Reading about a parents worst nightmare come true will do that to a lot of people. 

This situation immediately brought up the debate of gun control.  I don't have strong opinions about the matter.  But, my life has taught me a few lessons concerning guns that I implement into my own life. 

Being raised in Montana has put me in close personal contact with a lot of hard core hunters.  I was raised in a house that had lots of rifles, and other guns.  My parents always had a giant handgun that Dad kept under his side of the bed.  As a child, unbeknownst to my parents, I always knew about that gun. I used to go lay on the floor by their bed and take it out to examine.  It wasn't like they hadn't talked to me about the dangers of guns; they had.  I knew I was forbidden from even touching the hunting rifles that they kept downstairs.  But I was very curious about the forbidden and hidden hand gun under the bed.  I remember holding my finger on the trigger, but I never had the guts to actually pull it.  It probably wasn't loaded, but it just demonstrates how easily something could happen when a gun is in the house.

When I was about six, I used to play with the grandchildren of a lady who owned the little cafe in Paradise; a litte boy and girl about my brother and my ages.  I wasn't super close with them or anything, but if I was out wandering through Paradise looking for an adventure (at six I'm pretty sure I wasn't "allowed" to just wander either, but I did pretty often- consequences always waiting for me when I returned) and they were out, I would play with them.  One day I overheard my parents talking about the grandchildren at the cafe.  The little boy had been playing with a gun and accidentally shot and killed his sister.

As I grew up, there were other times I heard about kids playing with guns and having horrible consequences.

I went to hunters safety when I was around fourteen; sort of a rite of passage for all Montana kids.  Even though I was never to be a hunter (I have never shot a gun at anything more than a beer bottle, not for any bad feelings about guns but because I don't like the taste of wild game, or any red meat for that matter), I at least learned to really respect guns.  As far as having guns for hunting, I have nothing against it.  Every year I do hear about hunting accidents where someone has been accidentally shot, but to me that adds up to there is some risk to almost any activity, and a hunter has made the conscious decision and decided the risk was worth it.

When I see people talking about their "rights" to bear arms, it usually has nothing to do with hunting.  It is always toted as self-defense against the bad guys.  The thing is, in all of my 36 years, I have rarely heard of a bad guy getting shot by the good guy in a moment of self-defense.  I have, on the other hand, heard of lots of innocent people being accidentally shot by their own (or their parents) guns.

I have absolutely NO IDEA why anyone would need an assault rifle.  The mother of the guy who shot all of the kids actually ENCOURAGED him to practice shooting her guns at a shooting range because she thought it was good for him to handle something that "required so much respect".  It wasn't in SPITE of his mental instability that she did this, it was BECAUSE of his mental instability that she chose to do this.  As some sort of mental and emotional therapy.  Okay, where was the disconnect between her brain cells in this situation? 

Personally, I hate guns.  As an adult and a parent, I have never wanted them in my house.  Derrick "inherited" a hand gun from his brother, but it stays locked up in a safe where my kids will never be tempted to touch it.  It DOES have a purpose for us, however.  We take it with us whenever we go on our long hikes in the mountains of Montana.  But it is a weighed decision of what danger to us is greater, the bears or the gun.  I'd rather never have that gun with us, but I'd also rather not be eaten by a bear.  So, obviously there are times when guns are good for self-protection.

When my kids are old enough, I want both of them to take hunters safety.  I don't know if either of them will ever choose to be hunters, but I feel the same way about hunters safety as I do about swimming lessons.  I want them to have the knowledge it takes to keep themselves and others safe (as far as they can help it).  I may not be able to control other people's opinion about how to manage gun safety, but I can control my attitude towards it, and also help my children know HOW to be safe around guns. 

Do I think there should be government enforced gun control?  This article talks about other countries who have used different gun control tactics with good results.  Evil isn't so easy to control, but making tools of mass destruction harder to come by would be a good start.  It isn't the permanent solution, but it would add a little more safety in the meantime.

It was hard sending the kids to school yesterday and today.  It is a knee jerk reaction to never send them to public school again, and to start them in home school.  I may actually decide to home school my kids someday, but if I do, it's not going to be a fear based decision. 

When I go to the mall or the movies, I always try to find escape exits and I scan the crowd looking for weirdos.  But I am not going to stop going to those public places. 

My job makes me nervous these days as well.  Yesterday, a guy came in and stood at my counter.  He held his hands below the counter awkwardly, and I kept waiting for him to put them where I could see them. It scared me; I completely visualized a hidden gun.  I work at a government funded office, and because of the nature of our programs and the help they offer, the people who walk through those doors are not always mentally or emotionally well.  Also, people don't always get the financial help that they think they deserve in some of our other programs.  We have all dealt with angry (and unbalanced) people there. We have a protocol to follow if anyone ever comes in to cause mayhem; hopefully it would help most people stay safe.  However, I am at the front desk.  But I am still going to go to work there. 

Every day I have a choice.  I can choose to live every day in fear and let my world get smaller and smaller or I can choose to LIVE in spite of the danger.  I hope I always choose to really live, even knowing that this world comes with no guarantees of safety.

Mario Party 2012

In an amazing feat of Sabrina's imagination, we had a Mario Bothers Party December 1st.  As you can see from the pictures, her whole house was Mario Brother themed, including a huge box maze that went down her stairs and then wrapped around her living room.  The kids spent literally HOURS going up and down the stairs and through the maze, which was awesome for the parents, who spent all of their kid free time in the kitchen eating party food.

Kloe dressed up as Baby Bowser (girl version), and Derrin was Koopa Troopa.  I had no idea who these characters were, despite the fact that I actually played and WON the original Mario Brothers, all the way through level 8.  No matter, a quick googling and I knew basically what needed to be done to make the costumes.  Derrick and I were Mario and Luigi, which made for lots of fun/icky fun (for me) with the moustache kissing :)

Summer-y-est

So far this summer has been a busy one. We accidentally ended up at home this weekend, and it felt pretty good; it was the first one here in quite awhile.  So far July has been about slumber parties (for Kloe), riding motorcycles (for Derrin and Derrick), swimming lessons in T. Falls, and lots of time with friends and family.

Kloe's Summer 2012 Slumber Party

(June 30-July 1)

Kloe's room got it's usual overhaul (I just can't resist cleaning her room at least four times a year.  I accept this about myself finally) to prepare for her company.  Steph, Aiyana, and Bailey came over Friday night, and Stephy helped me hang lights and party things, and also drink quite a bit of coffee, and the girls played until the wee hours.  Kloe and I decorated her room too (somehow, no pictures were taken of that...) so they were able to sleep in high slumber party style. 

Sabrina, Darby, and Sara came the next day around two, and we ate cake, did projects, and the big girls talked while the little ones played (and we all took care of a baby bird the girls had found the day before and named "Pepper"... he was our guest of honor).

This is one of Sabrina's completely fabulous cakes she made for Kloe's slumber party.  Kloe couldn't really decide to go with an animal theme or beauty shop theme, so thus the poodle with the finger nail polish.

We did a cool tiedye project with permanent markers, cups, rubber bands, and rubbing alcohol.

...and, of course, a water balloon fight.

awww, cousins:)

Darby, Kloe, Aiyana, and Bailey

Guest of Slumber Party Honor, rescued baby bird "Pepper"

Darby holding the group's baby bird, "Pepper".  He was found by the girls on Friday night.  They kept him safe and warm, and we fed him warm squished cat food, as suggested by the wise folks on the Internet. 

Trying to put Pepper back in the nest didn't work out so well- he jumped back out into danger and had to be rescued by our animal squad again.

Unfortunately, despite all of their love and efforts, the girl's little birdy Pepper died July 4th.  Many tears were shed, and they made this tribute in his honor.

Boys Camping/Moto/Stars Wars Trip to Avery

(June 28-July 1)

The same weekend as our slumber party, the dads took Derrin and Cameron to Avery Idaho for some fishing, motorcycle riding, and even a little Star Wars watching (Cameron had never seen it, so it was a right of passage viewing). Reports from all indicate a great time was had, and there is a high probability we we all get to go to Avery for camping eventually.

Steve, camp cook extrordinare.

Self-Portrait, Derrick and a little friend.

Aw, they are so stinking cute!  Watching the Dads fish here.

Cam, going through the long tunnel.

They rode a lot of miles this day (60 miles total).  Derrick said the boys were completely wore out and ready to go home by the end, which is saying a lot- don't think I have ever seen them actually ready to stop riding before.

Chef Steve, making it a sea food night.  I'm having him cator our next slumber party- we just had burgers! :)

That Sunday night, Steve took the boys to T. Falls (he was dropping Derrin off at Steph's, while his fam was staying at a friend's cabin there), and Steph took all the girls back to T. Falls.  Swimming lessons started that Monday, and all the kids were able to be in lessons together again (including Cameron, Darby, Aiyana, Colton, Bailey, Carter, Derrin and Kloe).  I had to work Monday and Tuesday, so I didn't get to join the group until Wednesday (July 4th).  Steph is renting a little house right on the river in T. Falls- such a pretty place, full of peacefulness AND children- an interesting combo. 

I know this will be the week I remember as the highlight of this summer.  It had all of the elements of happy memories- playing with our friends and family, constantly playing in the water, and perfect weather for playing in the water (it was in the 90's the whole time).  I know this will be a week I will wish I could zip back to over and over. 

Summer in T. Falls, 2012

(July 2-July 14)

Nae, Bean and Kloe at Steph's house

View from Steph's back deck (addicted to morning coffee out there with that view).

Steph's cute little house.

Burying One's cousin is SO fun:)

Kloe practicing her diving skills.  Sabrina took these swimming pics.  I had pics of Derrin too (he was in an earlier class before Sabrina and her kiddies would come), but my memory card was out of my camera for those (bad bad brain of mine).  :(  Colton and Heidi were at lessons too, but my pics of them also were on my non-existant memory card:'(

She made Level 3 this year!!!  :))) 

Derrin and Phil being pulled by Steve out on the river.

Our feast with the kiddies, out on the back deck of the cabin.  We spent a lot of time playing out on the river here too.

A trip up Grave's Creek to see the waterfall with the kids.

Our group (minus me, cuz I'm the pic taker)- Sabrina, Cameron, Derrin, Kloe, Chantil, Aiyana, Steph (holding Indi), Darby

My babies and me

Princess Stephy-Poo

Cousins

My boy

My boy and me:)

Now we are back home, back to real life.  We loved the last couple of weeks, but it does feel good to be back home in our own beds and our routines.  So glad we have more summer to look forward to and enjoy.