Wednesday, September 23, 2009
While I live many thousands of miles and a whole ocean away from the shores of Sydney, here in Oregon we are getting covered in not dust, but ash. Quinn and Logan were hoping that it was ash from an exploded volcano and were a little bummed to learn that the source --a forest fire--was not so dramatic. A fire is burning about 70 miles east of us, and the high-pressure system that is gracing the Pacific Northwest with unseasonably high temps is also blowing all that ash our way. My lungs are burning and that long run I had planned today will have to wait, but the smoke-filled sky has made for some spectacular lighting. Last night glowed. Every object was luminescent and the salmon-colored sunset that smeared the sky was beautiful. I felt as if I walked into some color-saturated movie it was so otherworldly. I would have stayed outside longer, but inhaling ash for hours on end finally took its toll. It's hard to say how many days this will continue. I'm trying to turn a negative into a positive and even though my half-marathon training is on hold, I'm enjoying the heat and the sunsets that we get to enjoy thanks to that smoke and ash.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Friday, September 4, 2009
Last night when Jim and I were on a run I asked him if it is true that Quinn and Logan are really turning 13 on their next birthday, because I just can't wrap my head around that concept. Sure, I can count higher than 12, but when it relates to my children somehow 13 does not want to follow 12. Not that I have a better number in mind, but 13? 13! Mind you, their birthdays don't happen until next May, but they are growing and changing so quickly right now and I just don't want to think about them getting any older or bigger. I am not keeping pace with them now, so how am I going to manage when the hormones and growth spurts really kick in? They have already stretched out 3/4 of an inch in less than two months and I swear every morning they look taller than the night before. Thinking about 13, I immediately start to downward spiral and my mind jumps from 13 to moving out of the house. There is no in between in my mind. It is simply 13 and then gone. My little loaves of love are little no more and if I could stop the clock, I would because they are still the yummiest, sweetest, funniest, perceptive and loving boys I know and I just want to revel in all their silken goodness before they sprout facial hair and want to spend all their time with friends and at ballet.