A Day at the Beach...We're in it for the poster...

Spring break?  Florence foul weather? Must be time for the SOLV annual Oregon beach clean-up! Kids have become reluctant over the years, but this year we had a celebrity showing! Peter joined us, and was that a save! He and Addie were wandering along the beach cracking jokes, he even managed to wrestle out of her the fact that she has homework to do before we go home (hmmm).  It's always a sort of uncomfortable adventure, even I must admit.  Frankly, we're leaving behind a community that for all of it's natural beauty, let's be honest, there is litter EVERYWHERE  and, yes, even in pristine Oak Park.  The trash bags that we filled? That's about how much trash is left lying on our alley after the trash and recycling company collects our refuse every Tuesday (that would be Waste Management). So for me, it always seems a bit strange to haul my suburban family all the way to the Oregon Coast for a clean-up endeavor, one in which, although it's army of volunteers manage to collect TONS of trash every year along the entire Oregon Coast,  we could easily do a lot more picking up a mere steps from our own back door.  But I digress, we're here, it's an annual event, and, have I said, the posters are always lovely!? So, with five posters in hand, I can return to suburbia, emboldened by the idea that plastic bags won't disappear unless we never use them in the first place, and that plastic, every little plastic thing in our world, eventually will be a crushed little piece of plastic...it just doesn't go anywhere.

Here we are!

Always spectacular!

Former furniture? plyboard, nails, laminate, plastic tubes, and more.

"I could stay here all day!"

"This is what I'm going to do (in life), I'm going to go around, finding places to hide in the grass"

Yarn Goddess Stress Relief

So how was YOUR Spring Vacation?  Here we are, at Dad's little apartment.  The girls are reluctant to pose but as incredibly beautiful as always.  Dad is happy, healthy, well taken care of, and so delighted with all of the terrific company.  

 Here I am, in all my glory. Telling some sort of story to Peter or brother Scott, looking out the window at the lovely greenery that Dad sits and looks at out the window each day.

"Yeah...and then she said...and then he said....and i think..."

View.

Yarn, goddess yarn, what else is there for stress relief?

Correspondence from the other side. Notes to self:

At O'Hare Airport (in Chicago) there are many, many, many people.  They are all going somewhere and they have a lot of stuff.  In late March, there are many many families traveling to destinations far and wide. Many of these families are visiting extended families: Grandmas, Grandfathers, Aunts and such.  I guess you could count the unencumbered woman and her entourage as among this crowd, much as we try to deny it.  So we joined the masses. We flew across the country. We heard stuff, we saw people, we read the news, we witnessed television.  It eats away at us. It eats away at me, in particular. But then, a few days pass and I'm wrapped up in my whole new universe. Learning? There really is a whole lot of difference across the land. Also...people got really big. As in, people got really fat.  Also...people don't seem to really have a place, or a thing, or whatever.  I looked at the person ringing up my Peet's coffee and organic milk and sundry items (flip flops, barbie accoutrements) at Fred Meyer and I thought to myself: "Christian? Homophope? Lesbian? Santorum supporter? Composter? Hair-dyer? Offspring of Farmers? Offspring of Factory Workers?  California transplant?  Offspring of any skilled trade or government employer or healthcare worker or anything? Former fisherman/woman? Housewife?  Owned grocery/pharmacy/diner/lumber mill/whatever?  What can we really hope for, if anything? What's the story that would even be appealing?

"Click yer heels, girlfriend..."

And then I'm looking at this picture of a mobile (manufactured) home, (dated, of course, the new models look like prefab ranches) and all the lush greenery, thinking, this is gorgeous, huh? But then, where am I? Where did I come from? Who are my neighbors? How do we create community in this spread out, post-industrial  world? This is when I'm supposed to explain, LF, how it's all going to work out. But I haven't a clue. So...I'm taking suggestions....ideas?

In this town, weather is Always an excuse...

Magnolia!

...even today.  It's the first day of spring and we're literally baking in the heat.  About 85 degrees, balmy wind, bright sun.  What's going on here? And what do we have to look forward to? Our bird watching date will have to be moved forward about a month, and I just traded out our glass for screen doors.  Stowed the boots, gloves, hats, etc. and took this brilliant afternoon for a stroll to the park with our young  roller-blader. Can't really tell in the photograph, but she *was* physically ill at about 5:30 this morning.    

an instant before the crash.

Sitting on a park bench, finishing a merino wool & silk wrap, I thought to myself: "it really feels too hot." 

 

The Moebius Loop Cowl: once around the shoulders or twice around collar

It felt so hot, in fact, that I couldn't imagine going for a jog or a ride. After all, we've hardly had an opportunity to acclimate, nor have we prepared ourselves psychologically for sudden heat.  Actually, I think that the only proper response to this heatwave is to go out for a beer and sit on a shady porch.  So, according to me, there it is, any time of year in Chicago. No matter what the weather, training for ultra distance events really isn't the first thing that comes to mind, even for a hard core junkie like myself.

It's just like riding a bicycle!

Keep the sign, baby!

I did it! I got on my bicycle and pedaled and pedaled and pedaled!  What they say is true! It's like riding a bicycle! I've spent more time away from two wheel vehicles this year than most.  Blame it again on a hectic work schedule and suburban parenthood. Sometimes surrender is a superior option to breakdown, in so many ways.  But I digress.  Saturday and Sunday I took to the road for what turned into quite delightful affairs.  I probably rode a bit further than I should have on Saturday, but cycling is more forgiving than the most brutal of pastimes, running.  So I slow down, take a few breaks, and try to enjoy the scenery.  Check out this photo of Prestige Liquors that I took as I was riding back into town on Sunday.  I had logged well over a hundred miles in two days, was feeling happy but a bit fatigued. I pulled up to one of many stoplights and wow! Who says that Chicagoland isn't beautiful? These old signs can be found all over the place, but are sadly and slowly disappearing.  There's a cake shop sign on North Avenue that Peter hollered that we should acquire and lovingly restore.  And where would we put such a thing?  Dreams are for dreaming, after all.

I love this shawl!

My first effort at a donation product. This shawl is merino wool, silk, and a little bit of shiny nylon.  It is my offering for our annual auction at The Children's School. Labor of love, indeed, but it is a terrifically simple pattern with whimsical little flowers falling off the end.  Perfection! Check out Ashby's delightful photography on this unseasonably warm March Day!

You like it like this?

close up!

big mama!

take that, New York!

Check out the guns!!!

head wear.

last, but not least!

Aren't we done with (cigarettes?)

friends, all geared up and ready for riding

Today I finally braved the outdoors on my bicycle. It's been a long time coming, but with clear skies and unseasonably warm weather, what else could I do?  Here we are, convening at the corner before our ride, in which I would of course get dropped along the way but it's always nice to show face and see friends for the send-off and first hour or so of riding.  Believe it or not, this pedestrian was standing right here, smoking and smoking and smoking, with about 30 lycra-clad cyclists at seven in the morning on this gorgeous day.  As I've always said, Illinois auto license plate should read: "Kill me now." When the weather changes, we suffer the onslaught of whatever is right around the corner.  Today, for example, I inhaled smoke from "how many" other peoples' cigarettes?  Indeed, driving up Harlem the other day I was convinced that every other driver except myself was a smoker.  My lungs can hardly handle it, in fact, it's been documented that women suffer upper respiratory illnesses and sensitivities at a greater rate than men, perhaps because our little cilia in our respiratory system are more fragile, thus less capable of keeping all those harsh toxins out of our interior self.  Whatever. All I know is that I hate smoke, and have hated inhaling other peoples' smoke for about forty five years. Aren't we done with these things?

Multitasking Installment #2

LF, you know I've tried this before (Multitasking Installment #1), but back then, I sort of figured I wouldn't take the concept too far, but over a year later, and I'm still quite attracted to the idea. After all, this may be the year that I finally ditch road riding for trainer rides.  Let's face it, I don't have a lot of time, I'm not getting any younger, and the roads around here are best ridden in the very early hours, when some of us like to sleep in a little bit after a week of rising early.

Photos courtesy of Peter

 But is it possible?  Is it possible that I achieve any sort of Ironman success this year when so much of my training is performed while on an indoor trainer, multitasking furiously at the crafts and pastimes that I enjoy so much? I don't really know, but the year is young, and at least I'm happy:

Woman in her environment: yarn, bike,  nutrition,
computer, windows,
telephone.

 What's completely possible, I'm discovering, is that I really can crochet on the trainer, and today I worked the Moebious style loop crochet cowl, which is an almost perfect design for trainer work! It's a giant loop that twists itself in such a fashion that the wrap, or cowl, is worked first on one edge, then the other in a continuos loop. I can actually wear the piece while I'm on the bike! The product is fabulous, and my pattern, designed by Doris Chan, is a delight to work up.  I managed to get myself around this thing a few times today, on what was a long base building heart rate monitored ride.

double crochet, chain1, repeat...quite simple.

And so it goes! I was on the trainer, for quite some time, on a lovely spring day, but then i had plenty of time for a quick outdoor jog, a trip to the park with the kid, and yarn work on the front yard.  The next season is coming! And not just Spring!!!

Three hours on the trainer? Why Not?

The socks are on display, here.

The unveiling of the knee high variegated yarn toe-up socks!  Now that they're both complete I can embrace March with vigor!  Not many more wintery knit items on the agenda, and what's left I can finish before the clouds clear.  Addie took this photo this morning after I spent a couple of hours on the trainer.  If you know any tri-geeks, you know these make a great substitute for compression socks, which are all the rage amongst the Iron folks.  I love my jacket, which I donned because it was the nearest item of clothing that would cover my sweaty jog bra.  Today I was at home on my trainer, pinning on Pinterest, listening to Spotify, and tracking my friends' progress while they're actually out there in the world on their bicycles.  I'm thinking that for now, this is the new me! Between Indigo and her little brother, I'm supplied a nearly constant supply of really beautiful pictures of really beautiful places.  I can keep track of my family. I never get too cold or too hot. I can even learn and practice a new crochet technique!  It's all quite literally within my reach, and I guess the real question is: Why Not??