Summer Vacation

My vacation options are limited this summer, and I haven't been able to do much traveling. Yesterday, though, I had the chance to ferry to Seattle with my parents, who are visiting from sunny southern California, and my daughter who made a special detour to be with us. We spent a couple hours at Pike Place Market, enjoying the crowds of good-natured tourists and shops and sights there. Since I used to work in the city, and even had desk space at the market, I showed them some of my favorite places, and learned some new things along the way.

One thing I learned was that the famous pig, where I meet people (and I am not the only one!) is named Rachel the Pig. Another new thing was that the office I left in January on Western is no longer part of Pike Market Medical Clinic. My sweet memories of and experiences with colleagues, clients, and coworkers there are all that are left. One last thing I re-learned was that Pike Market is still terrific, a fun place to visit, shop, people-watch, eat, listen, breathe in, and enjoy live music. It was a feast for the senses, a breezy lovely day to be a tourist.

I savored a cheesy onion roll from the wonderful Russian bakery. We all passed the Creamery and pointed out the wide variety of fresh eggs I used to hand-pick to bring home after work. My very favorite place to visit at Pike, though, is the little rummage sale just past the kitchen shop. I don't know what drives that corner of the market, or who runs it, or how it comes to be where it is, but it's really my sweet spot. And it didn't let me down! I am, after all, a recycling junkie, and can't pass up tables of others' wares without taking a peek.

I wasn't planning to buy anything, as I really never am, but I couldn't resist a little quilt top, backing, and fabric for binding. Cecilie paid for it and pronounced us good. I think it will be my grandma quilt, and it will wait for a little one to come over and use it. I will always remember the pleasant time I had with my folks there, and that precious visit to the market.

Parenting Unruly Teens

This summer has been a challenge. After the disaster of my sprained ankle I had the opportunity to spend more time pondering the mysteries of life, including the mystery of teenagers. Since we have 5 of those between my husband and me, this wasn't too difficult to do. We have the lovely added bonus of having our daughter's homeless teenage friend staying with us, too.

When my children were young it was somewhat infuriating when things were tough and my mentors and friends would chuckle at my parenting challenges and warn me about what was ahead. One friend, to whom I confided, "I'm afraid to raise teenage girls," gave me the comforting comment, "You should be!" And here I am in the throes of it all.

Actually, I made the mistake, since my own youngest is a boy, of thinking recently, "Thank goodness, I am almost through with these difficult teen years. He hasn't been nearly as hard as those girls...." He has always been an easy, enjoyable child.

Why do children turn to unhealthy activities (sex, addiction, piercing, tattoos, and heaven knows what else)? What can we as parents do to prevent these from going on to our precious but defiant offspring? My son has been cut off from most of his friends and regular activities because of some poor choices. This has been most difficult on him and all of us who care about him.

I simply keep telling myself a few things, such as, "This isn't about me." "Don't take his behavior personally." "The others are enjoyable adults; he is getting there, too." "He is only growing up." And, thankfully, he is.

Therapy

I love my therapist, whom I will call Lily. Lily has helped me through a terrible time when I was out of my mind with grief and despair. She is there whenever I have the need for some clarity on issues in my life, whether I know I have these issues or not when I sit down with her. Sometimes I get assigned therapy for other therapy I am involved in, and Lily makes herself available to listen. For example, when I was in family counseling with my ex, it was suggested I "see someone" because of the obvious anger still in play concerning the former husband. I was happy to re-re-re-engage with Lily and gladly set up an appointment to see my best fan (whom I pay to be such).

One great thing about Lily is that whenever I need her and have either insurance to pay or fee for service, she comes to my aid with listening ears and insightful responses. She's not exactly a mother figure, she's not that old, nor does she have the trappings and biases of a mother (my mother!). She is more of an aunt figure, without the complication of me having to remember her birthday. It's a totally one-sided relationship, since she has to ask how I am but I don't have to ask how she is, even though I totally wonder how she is. Actually, it's not a very healthy friendship relationship, but a great therapeutic one.

The beauty of therapy, which I appreciate so much, is that for once in my life it gets to be all about me. With friends, well, they like it to be sometimes about me and sometimes about them. I get really hungry for people in my life who not only know me, my history, and my quirkiness (and still like me), but who also are actually interested in what I am doing. Lily does this for me. She's like my priest, but without the dark anonymity of the confessional and the ongoing Catholic guilt!

Locally Grown Food

I have always loved to vegetable garden, but I'm not too good at it. I'm not sure why. I love fresh food, especially when I've grown it myself. But, although I say I love to garden and eat the produce, I don't think I am a very good gardener, and I don't have much success.

Sometimes I don't have a real great area to sow and reap. Deep down I don't believe that, because I feel like if you have a little piece of land, you can create miracles. Other times I think I'm just lazy, or lose interest. For instance, this year the weather wasn't cooperative during spring and even early summer. I planted my seeds, which had been ordered in January, and waited for something to happen. The radishes did come up. (I have decided I don't like radishes, home grown or otherwise.) One little planter with bush beans, pumpkins, and zucchini looks great, but the rest of the "garden" is pathetic. I really should put pictures up as proof, and I may.

Yesterday I did some cleanup and planted more seeds, and hopefully I will reap what I have sown, if the weather cooperates. These long sunny days should be just the thing. If I water. And feed. And weed. And keep it up.

I have made a wonderful discovery, however. I profess to buy food locally, and invested in Community Supported Agriculture (CSA), which is a subscription to a local farm. My CSA farm is just 4 miles away from my home. For our investment our family receives a bag of locally produced farm fresh organic vegetables each week for 20 weeks. Because of the weather, the startup was slow, but now we have more beautiful green food in the fridge than even my best gardening attempts have delivered in the past.

And although my veggie garden is important to me, I am grateful to actually be able to enjoy the locally grown food I say I want to purchase and eat.

To find out about the farm I subscribe to, click here.

Disappointment

I have been training since the end of December for the STP, a 2-day, 204 mile bicycle ride from Seattle to Portland. As a Christmas gift to myself I had my bike tuned up and assessed for fitness for the long ride. I had lost a bunch of weight and really toned up through riding and walking. I had hundreds of miles behind me in training rides, with friends from my old job and by myself. Hills weren't my friends yet or anything, but I was learning to face them with faith in my ability to make it to the tops. And, although things didn't go too well on the last big ride I went on 2 weeks before the big event, I was looking forward to the 2 days of getting myself, under my own power, to Portland, no matter how slowly I paced myself compared to my friends or other riders.

Sadly, this year the STP is not in the cards for me. Twelve days before the ride I sustained an injury to my ankle while smelling the roses on my way to the first walk of the day. Smelling the roses! As I fell in the gutter in front of the beautiful display of various sweet-fragranced flowers in my neighborhood, my dream of riding slipped away. Along with the big ride, my hopes for continuing my 2 daily walks, possibly training for shorter triathlons, and continuing the fitness and weight loss pursuits evaporated.

After I spent a couple hours crying and feeling sorry for myself, I decided that this is an opportunity to do some different things this summer than I had planned, and that's not all bad. The main thing would be to do my very best at allowing the ankle to heal properly. This would involve staying off the foot, taking it easy, and staying away from the stresses of fitness activities that had been so enjoyable.

Another decision was to continue strengthening exercises and counting calories so that the weight loss and muscle building would continue. Time with Silas, who is with me through the summer, would be easier to come by with my body on the couch full time. And, since a 15-year-old kid really doesn't want to spend every minute of the day bonding with his mother, I knew there would be time now for doing some reading and home projects that have been neglected since I have been training so much.

So, this blog is my attempt to connect with myself and others, and to log my progress in making lemonade out of this sprained ankle.