Beck had such a great day yesterday. He's becoming more independent--as Mr. Monk says, "it's blessing and a curse."
He can lay on his stomach now for 10-15 minutes, and his hand are becoming more like hands! He can grasp at objects, and actually hit them with his hand most of the time. So he'll lay on his stomach pushing his toys around, babbling to himself. So cute!
When he gets tired of that I'll roll him over and he'll play with a toy, putting it up to his mouth and babbling as he chews on it. Something about having an object in his mouth makes him want to talk! He's so funny.
He really loves feeling things. That sounds hilarious, and maybe all babies are like this, but since he was a newborn he would rub his hands back and forth on different textures, my sleeve, his blankets, daddy's face . . . just feeling it. For this reason he LOVES stuffed animals--my aunt Gail sent him this huge stuffed polar bear, Arctic Harry, whom he will pull right into his face and stroke and stroke. Getting to pat the pets is pretty much his favorite activity. As soon as he sees one of the cats a big smile will light up his face and he holds out his hands to them, which means, "I want to pet one!"
But his favorite toys of all are empty chip bags. We figured this out on the plaine ride to Anchorage. I'd stuffed the diaper bag with tons of toys: things that rattle and jingle, things he could suck on or pull. I wanted to be sure I had lots of distractions because I was hoping he wouldn't scream the entire flight, as I've heard some infants do. The sewardess delivered our snacks once we were at altitude, and what do you know, he LOVED the empty snack pack bag. It was just big enough that he could put his tiny hand over it and slide it back and forth across the tray table. Daddy giave him his pack too, and there he was, happy as a little lark, sliding both hands across the tray making crinkle sounds.
Sigh, I thought as he grew more independent it would get easier for me to find little pockets of time to write. Not so. I drafted this weeks ago, and can't even remember why his day was so good!
I will say he is growing more content in the world most of the time. He cries much less often, and is soothed much quicker. He goes 10-20 minute stretches of being content on his own, in the high chair or on the floor with his toys. But he still spends most of the day being carried in a sling or baby carrier.
His new struggle is falling asleep. That is when he cries the most, right at that point between wake and sleep.
I'm really trying to remember to just be present with him and enjoy every moment: how incredibly soft his hair is, how tiny his chubby little hands still are, the incredible color of his eyes: copper from the front and blue-gray from the side.
If nothing else, he certainly makes me prioritize my life! Beck first, clean dishes and organized closet way after that!
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Beckett Update: Singing and Napping
I want to post little updates as Beckett grows and changes. So many little things happen that I don't want to forget!
A few weeks ago, it was after we moved to Juneau, he started laughing an giggling at our funny antics. Matt's gotten really good at making him laugh--he'll scrunch his face or draw his mouth wide as a stream of silly noises gurgle from him. I'll lay on my back, Beck resting on calves, and I'll raise my knees to parallel, his tiny hands grasped in mine. "You're flying!" I exclaim, and then coo, "Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba Beckett!" to the tune of the batman theme. His mouth opens wide in a big grin as he soars over mommy.
I got my library card here in Juneau about a week and a half ago and checked out a bunch of books for Beck. When I read them to him he really sat and listened and looked. I was so surprised, he's still such a little guy! He loves feeling things with his hands and got a real kick out of turning the pages with his very own hands, though he likes to push them in the opposite direction than we read.
On Friday he started napping! Such a shock! Matt and I always tried laying him down, and he'd never sleep more than 10-20 minutes without one of us holding him or sleeping right next to him. But on Friday my mom was here, and said, "do you ever lay him down to see if he'll nap?"
"Yeah," I sighed, "he never does. But we keep trying because we know one day he will."
So I tried it, and guess what! He konked out for like an hour and a half! Yesterday and today both he took like 3 naps; his lids sink closed as he sucks on his pacifier. He descends into peaceful sleep. I keep peeping in on him as he dozes sweetly, then and come out to celebrate with Matt. "Our baby naps!" I croon.
Tonight he started singing. Maybe he's always been singing and we just never new it, but tonight Matt sang along to "Edelweiss," one of his favorite Sound of Music songs. Beck has always said "Oh!", that was actually his very first sound, but tonight he said it in rhythm to Matt's singing. His sounds normally have the same pitch, but tonight he added a lower, "Oh!" really trying to match Matt's voice. "Oh, oh," he trilled, one high and one low. So cute!
He was a real joy tonight, talking and babbling lots to grandma, mommy, and daddy. He's also completely obsessed with chewing on his little hands, gobs of slobber running down his chin.
I think sometimes I underestimate him, he's so tiny and can do so little himself. But he ovserves and processes the world around him all the time, that's why he needs so many naps! He never ceases to surprise and amaze us, each day we wonder what little joy will unfurl as he grows toward adulthood.
A few weeks ago, it was after we moved to Juneau, he started laughing an giggling at our funny antics. Matt's gotten really good at making him laugh--he'll scrunch his face or draw his mouth wide as a stream of silly noises gurgle from him. I'll lay on my back, Beck resting on calves, and I'll raise my knees to parallel, his tiny hands grasped in mine. "You're flying!" I exclaim, and then coo, "Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba Beckett!" to the tune of the batman theme. His mouth opens wide in a big grin as he soars over mommy.
I got my library card here in Juneau about a week and a half ago and checked out a bunch of books for Beck. When I read them to him he really sat and listened and looked. I was so surprised, he's still such a little guy! He loves feeling things with his hands and got a real kick out of turning the pages with his very own hands, though he likes to push them in the opposite direction than we read.
"Yeah," I sighed, "he never does. But we keep trying because we know one day he will."
So I tried it, and guess what! He konked out for like an hour and a half! Yesterday and today both he took like 3 naps; his lids sink closed as he sucks on his pacifier. He descends into peaceful sleep. I keep peeping in on him as he dozes sweetly, then and come out to celebrate with Matt. "Our baby naps!" I croon.
Tonight he started singing. Maybe he's always been singing and we just never new it, but tonight Matt sang along to "Edelweiss," one of his favorite Sound of Music songs. Beck has always said "Oh!", that was actually his very first sound, but tonight he said it in rhythm to Matt's singing. His sounds normally have the same pitch, but tonight he added a lower, "Oh!" really trying to match Matt's voice. "Oh, oh," he trilled, one high and one low. So cute!
He was a real joy tonight, talking and babbling lots to grandma, mommy, and daddy. He's also completely obsessed with chewing on his little hands, gobs of slobber running down his chin.I think sometimes I underestimate him, he's so tiny and can do so little himself. But he ovserves and processes the world around him all the time, that's why he needs so many naps! He never ceases to surprise and amaze us, each day we wonder what little joy will unfurl as he grows toward adulthood.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Living Without (or living with Box): Moving to Juneau part 2
There's this limbo period when you've moved somewhere like Juneau, when your crap is still in transit. Until then you just make do with whatever you've managed to cram into your Outback.
Or you get inventive. On a trip to Costco our groceries got packed, as is the custom, in a box. But necessity showed us that this humble rectangle, clothed in paper, was so much more than just a box.
Emptied of its contents at home it revealed itself to be the perfect height for table--if you're eating while sitting on the floor. The next obvious use was a desk, where I drafted this very post. I even jotted notes right on the top of it. The cats burrowed underneath, and so it became a much-coveted cat hidey-hole.
One day, as I attempted to lug our giant load of diapers in my arms, I realized I'd been eating and working on the perfect laundry basket! A few days later awesome Box unveiled its skill for being the perfect height for Beckett to practice standing!
Our plebian Box now sits in the burn pile. A terrible fate for such a useful thing. But I'm hopeful that kindling is not Box's final use. Box will surely transfigure again before then!
"Recliner"
"Entertainment center". Note the blue "cat bed" next to it.
Box.
Sleeping on the ground and eating on Box might not be so fun for extended periods, but living minimally has made me realize how much I don't need.
We've been cooking dinners in one skillet, eating off two plates, sitting and changing diapers on the floor, and we're just as happy as ever. Maybe more so because the house is actually clean.
I'll admit, our backs are a little sore from lifting Beck up from sitting on the floor so often (no lie, at least 20 times a day because that's how many diaper changes he needs), and even more sore for sleeping on the floor, but I can see when you have what's important, your family, you really don't need all that much.
Or you get inventive. On a trip to Costco our groceries got packed, as is the custom, in a box. But necessity showed us that this humble rectangle, clothed in paper, was so much more than just a box.
Emptied of its contents at home it revealed itself to be the perfect height for table--if you're eating while sitting on the floor. The next obvious use was a desk, where I drafted this very post. I even jotted notes right on the top of it. The cats burrowed underneath, and so it became a much-coveted cat hidey-hole.
One day, as I attempted to lug our giant load of diapers in my arms, I realized I'd been eating and working on the perfect laundry basket! A few days later awesome Box unveiled its skill for being the perfect height for Beckett to practice standing!
Our plebian Box now sits in the burn pile. A terrible fate for such a useful thing. But I'm hopeful that kindling is not Box's final use. Box will surely transfigure again before then!
"Recliner"
Box.
Sleeping on the ground and eating on Box might not be so fun for extended periods, but living minimally has made me realize how much I don't need.
We've been cooking dinners in one skillet, eating off two plates, sitting and changing diapers on the floor, and we're just as happy as ever. Maybe more so because the house is actually clean.
I'll admit, our backs are a little sore from lifting Beck up from sitting on the floor so often (no lie, at least 20 times a day because that's how many diaper changes he needs), and even more sore for sleeping on the floor, but I can see when you have what's important, your family, you really don't need all that much.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Almost more adventure than our Outback could handle: moving to Juneau
So, I mentioned that we moved to Juneau, but the actual move was quite a little adventure.
Moving to Alaska, or off the road system in Alaska has it's own challenges. Our stuff (aka "crap") has to be trucked and then barged from Anchorage to Juneau, so it takes several weeks to actually get from the old place to the new one.
It really makes you think about weather or not you really want to pay to haul around all the crap in your life, and I cringe as I report that Matt and I paid to have 8,600 pounds of crap hauled down here. And that's after we purged. We are in major need of simplifying.
This leaves you with a few weeks where you basically need to live without stuff.
On top of all that, we are moving in January. In Alaska. Our crap is being hauled as I write this along the Alcan Highway, where is it well below freezing. So no liquids could be packed.
This might seem like a little thing, but since we are already living in Alaska, where things are more expensive, I started to order and buy things in bulk, like the special laundry detergent to wash our darling son's diapers.
Most people would just have donated or given away their liquids, but not us. We were determined to get them here.
Matt devised this genius idea to get one of those old Sears cartop carriers to facilitate our plan. This way we could bring some of our more important liquids as well as some of the essentials we would need for living in Juneau until all our crap arrived.
The list of things we wanted to cram in our car got longer and longer. Especially when you consider the three cats and dog that also needed to fit in there. Oh yeah, and our son.
So the day of our departure we started packing the car three hours before we needed to leave. Matt played a genius Tetris game getting everything to fit: 40 cloth diapers & accessories, 2 gallons of laundry detergent, 12" cast iron skillet, two plates and place settings, sleeping bags and mats, essential clothing and toiletries for three humans, litter box, pet food and bowls, car seat, stroller, cooler full of salmon I couldn't bear to part with, pillows . . . as I write this I'm a little in awe that he fit it all in!
Despite the three hours, and Beckett being an angel as I wore him and tried to help Matt as best as I could, it was still way to much stuff to cram in an Outback. As our departure time rolled closer, knowing if we missed our ferry we wouldn't be able to catch another one for a month or so, I started to panic a little. Not my usual mode.
I needed to move fast! And hauling around a 13 pound infant hampers that. I put Beck down with the vacuum cleaner running in the same room and RAN!
I dragged everything left to go down the to car for Matt to load. As the critical hour approached we realized it wasn't all going to fit. The wine! We grabbed four bottles to stash in our car, and dragged the rest over to our neighbor. I hauled trash, and everything else we couldn't fit into the car, out to the dumpster. I crammed cats into their carriers while cooing them into acquiescence. I lifted our aging Golden, Jack, into his small space in the car, stacked the cat carriers into place, and ran back to Beckett, just sure he would be crying. He was happily staring at the ceiling playing with his hands. I put him into his car seat, snapped it into place, jumped into my seat while lifting my feet over the frying pan, and we were off! Only a few minutes behind schedule!
As the garage door closed on 134 E Cook, I didn't even have time to think about how we'd never see this place again because the cats were yowling, Jack was staring at me with his big eyes, and of course, the baby started screaming.
Beckett had loved his car seat up until now, being lulled to sleep in his warm little cocoon by the motion of the car. I'm sure the bustle and stress of packing and moving (as well as the yowling cats, you'd think someone was playing Mr. Potato Head with their limbs or something!) finally got to him. He was inconsolable. Sweet Jack, who was next to him, put his head at his feet. Nothing helped. Our exit from Anchorage was not a quiet graceful one.
We made it the 60 miles Whittier in one piece, despite the howling and screaming. The Spacebag of diapers only fell on Hugo's cat carrier twice. Soon we were driving onto the ferry M/V Kennicott, our home for the next two days.
Looking back, being aboard the ferry was actually the most comfortable stage of our move. We had bunk beds in a little state room. The cafeteria served warm food three times a day, and we could stroll or carry Beck around the ship to get him to sleep. During the daylight hours we had splendid views of the Alaskan coast.
Not so for the pets. We had agonized over the 40 hours the pets would spend on the ferry leading up to the move. Matt, my ever prepared boyscout, found a pet playpen online, which he set up in the back of the car with a litter box for the cats. While he was doing that of course, Kenzie, our perky cat, escaped. She eluded him briefly as she explored the car deck, but after only a few minutes (which felt like hours) she returned to be stuffed back in to the car. Jack lay in the middle of the car, and we crammed all the other stuff in the two front seats. We were able to come down to walk Jack and attend to the cats every 8 hours or so. Hugo, our biggest cat, who is also the biggest scaredy-cat, hid in the litter box most of the time, but everyone else seemed to do just fine.
The first day of sailing was splendid. Sunny and clam, but by that evening we were told our first (and only) stop at Yakutat would be as short as possible as the captain was trying to stay ahead of a storm.
That night the storm caught us. It was hard to tell looking out of our little porthole into the dark night, but what I saw of the ocean reminded me a little of The Deadliest Catch. Fortunately the rough seas were at night, so we slept through most of them. My short and necessary forray to the restroom at 3 AM was a made especially memorable by all the lurching. By morning the ship had made it to the inside passage, where it travels along inside barrier islands, and the seas were much calmer.
Before we knew it we were cramming everything back into place in our little Subaru for the 20 minute drive to our new home. The cats yowled, Jack gave his best heart-tugging stare, and of course, Beckett started screaming again. On top of it all we didn't do as good of a job repacking so the sleeping bags kept falling on poor jack. Hello Juneau! The Walkers (and their laundry detergent) are here!
Soon, but not soon enough, we were pulling into the driveway of our new home on Douglas Island. All of us were glad to set food on solid, snowy ground. The cats, I know, were glad to be free again.
And with that, our next adventure began: camping out in our new round home for the few weeks until our crap gets here.
Moving to Alaska, or off the road system in Alaska has it's own challenges. Our stuff (aka "crap") has to be trucked and then barged from Anchorage to Juneau, so it takes several weeks to actually get from the old place to the new one.
It really makes you think about weather or not you really want to pay to haul around all the crap in your life, and I cringe as I report that Matt and I paid to have 8,600 pounds of crap hauled down here. And that's after we purged. We are in major need of simplifying.
This leaves you with a few weeks where you basically need to live without stuff.
On top of all that, we are moving in January. In Alaska. Our crap is being hauled as I write this along the Alcan Highway, where is it well below freezing. So no liquids could be packed.
This might seem like a little thing, but since we are already living in Alaska, where things are more expensive, I started to order and buy things in bulk, like the special laundry detergent to wash our darling son's diapers.
Most people would just have donated or given away their liquids, but not us. We were determined to get them here.
Matt devised this genius idea to get one of those old Sears cartop carriers to facilitate our plan. This way we could bring some of our more important liquids as well as some of the essentials we would need for living in Juneau until all our crap arrived.
The list of things we wanted to cram in our car got longer and longer. Especially when you consider the three cats and dog that also needed to fit in there. Oh yeah, and our son.
So the day of our departure we started packing the car three hours before we needed to leave. Matt played a genius Tetris game getting everything to fit: 40 cloth diapers & accessories, 2 gallons of laundry detergent, 12" cast iron skillet, two plates and place settings, sleeping bags and mats, essential clothing and toiletries for three humans, litter box, pet food and bowls, car seat, stroller, cooler full of salmon I couldn't bear to part with, pillows . . . as I write this I'm a little in awe that he fit it all in!
Despite the three hours, and Beckett being an angel as I wore him and tried to help Matt as best as I could, it was still way to much stuff to cram in an Outback. As our departure time rolled closer, knowing if we missed our ferry we wouldn't be able to catch another one for a month or so, I started to panic a little. Not my usual mode.
I needed to move fast! And hauling around a 13 pound infant hampers that. I put Beck down with the vacuum cleaner running in the same room and RAN!
I dragged everything left to go down the to car for Matt to load. As the critical hour approached we realized it wasn't all going to fit. The wine! We grabbed four bottles to stash in our car, and dragged the rest over to our neighbor. I hauled trash, and everything else we couldn't fit into the car, out to the dumpster. I crammed cats into their carriers while cooing them into acquiescence. I lifted our aging Golden, Jack, into his small space in the car, stacked the cat carriers into place, and ran back to Beckett, just sure he would be crying. He was happily staring at the ceiling playing with his hands. I put him into his car seat, snapped it into place, jumped into my seat while lifting my feet over the frying pan, and we were off! Only a few minutes behind schedule!
As the garage door closed on 134 E Cook, I didn't even have time to think about how we'd never see this place again because the cats were yowling, Jack was staring at me with his big eyes, and of course, the baby started screaming.
Beckett had loved his car seat up until now, being lulled to sleep in his warm little cocoon by the motion of the car. I'm sure the bustle and stress of packing and moving (as well as the yowling cats, you'd think someone was playing Mr. Potato Head with their limbs or something!) finally got to him. He was inconsolable. Sweet Jack, who was next to him, put his head at his feet. Nothing helped. Our exit from Anchorage was not a quiet graceful one.
We made it the 60 miles Whittier in one piece, despite the howling and screaming. The Spacebag of diapers only fell on Hugo's cat carrier twice. Soon we were driving onto the ferry M/V Kennicott, our home for the next two days.
 |
| Enjoying the view. |
Not so for the pets. We had agonized over the 40 hours the pets would spend on the ferry leading up to the move. Matt, my ever prepared boyscout, found a pet playpen online, which he set up in the back of the car with a litter box for the cats. While he was doing that of course, Kenzie, our perky cat, escaped. She eluded him briefly as she explored the car deck, but after only a few minutes (which felt like hours) she returned to be stuffed back in to the car. Jack lay in the middle of the car, and we crammed all the other stuff in the two front seats. We were able to come down to walk Jack and attend to the cats every 8 hours or so. Hugo, our biggest cat, who is also the biggest scaredy-cat, hid in the litter box most of the time, but everyone else seemed to do just fine.
 |
| View from the bow |
 |
| Our short stop in Yakutat |
 |
| M/V Kennicott safely docked in Juneau |
Soon, but not soon enough, we were pulling into the driveway of our new home on Douglas Island. All of us were glad to set food on solid, snowy ground. The cats, I know, were glad to be free again.
 |
| Home! |
And with that, our next adventure began: camping out in our new round home for the few weeks until our crap gets here.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Juneau: a new home
Everyone whose ever come to Juneau arrived by boat or plane. That's the only way in to a city rimmed by mountains and glaciers on one side, and the ocean on the other. It's the only way out too. Apparently what this place has to offer despite all that (or maybe even because of it) is more than enough for the 30,000 people who make it their home. We're betting it'll be more than enough for our little family too.
Since my last entry over a year ago Matt and I have given birth to a son and just recently moved to Juneau. Both have renewed my interest and commitment to updating our blog. Time to write is even harder to find now with darling little Beckett here, but even more important to me. Things change so fast, I want to get it down before I forget it all!
Juneau became a possibility for us when Matt found a job down here that he was very excited about. The opportunity became an offer, and we jumped at the chance to join this unique community. He is now working with traffic safety for the state.
We are actually living on an island! A bridge stretches across the channel from downtown Juneau to Douglas Island, where we now make our home. We were lucky enough to find a great little house that is minutes from hiking trails, a kayak launch spot, and a ski resort.
It's round and red, as you can see. I'm super excited to make use of the green house and raised beds come spring. I'm going to grow at least 7 varieties of heirloom carrots! The past two growing seasons have taught me to grow what's suited to the climate here, instead of my hairbrained attempts at growing melons and cucumbers despite the short, mild summers.
The weather is more mild here than in Anchorage, so we were very excited to be able to take Beckett for his very first hike when the temperature went all the way up to a balmy 34 degrees this past weekend. We hit the Rainforest Trails with a bundled baby and Jack in tow, and I was jumping out of my boots with exhilaration. I couldn't wait to show Beck the outdoors.
When he was still inside me, I started a list in my head of all the things I wanted to show him. Alpenglow, bears, and berry picking in the fall, cake, his daddy, freezing rain, green: all the shades from blades of grass to new leaves to spruce trees, hoarfrost, ice on the inlet . . . I think nature's beauty is one of the best parts of our time here, and I've been so eager to share that with Beck. So there I was, with a snow-covered spruce forest right in front of me, and my little guy all bundled up and ready to see it all.
We tromped right in to the towering trees, and despite my huge boots our footfalls were dampened by snow covered pine needles. It's been years since I felt how soft a footstep can be in a forest in winter, but the familiar sound brought me right back to my childhood in the mountains of Boulder, Co. The forest here is dense, and it was already 3:00 and the light was fading. We let the hushed dimness wash over us. Snow rested on the outstretched branches, and I whispered to Beck that I was going to do my best to be quiet and just let him take it all in.
The trail wound through the woods for a short ways, and soon I could see water beyond the dark lines of the trunks. A smile lit my face as I realized how close I now live to the ocean. We broke through the trees to a stunning view of the channel. White snow ran right up to the tide line on the black rock beach. Dark spruce trees, snow outlining their edges, textured the islands and mountains across the calm water. I got a little choked up right there standing amidst all that beauty, because I'm still, and will always be, an emotional banana. This is what Beckett is going to grow up seeing.
Since my last entry over a year ago Matt and I have given birth to a son and just recently moved to Juneau. Both have renewed my interest and commitment to updating our blog. Time to write is even harder to find now with darling little Beckett here, but even more important to me. Things change so fast, I want to get it down before I forget it all!
Juneau became a possibility for us when Matt found a job down here that he was very excited about. The opportunity became an offer, and we jumped at the chance to join this unique community. He is now working with traffic safety for the state.
It's round and red, as you can see. I'm super excited to make use of the green house and raised beds come spring. I'm going to grow at least 7 varieties of heirloom carrots! The past two growing seasons have taught me to grow what's suited to the climate here, instead of my hairbrained attempts at growing melons and cucumbers despite the short, mild summers.
The weather is more mild here than in Anchorage, so we were very excited to be able to take Beckett for his very first hike when the temperature went all the way up to a balmy 34 degrees this past weekend. We hit the Rainforest Trails with a bundled baby and Jack in tow, and I was jumping out of my boots with exhilaration. I couldn't wait to show Beck the outdoors.
When he was still inside me, I started a list in my head of all the things I wanted to show him. Alpenglow, bears, and berry picking in the fall, cake, his daddy, freezing rain, green: all the shades from blades of grass to new leaves to spruce trees, hoarfrost, ice on the inlet . . . I think nature's beauty is one of the best parts of our time here, and I've been so eager to share that with Beck. So there I was, with a snow-covered spruce forest right in front of me, and my little guy all bundled up and ready to see it all.
We tromped right in to the towering trees, and despite my huge boots our footfalls were dampened by snow covered pine needles. It's been years since I felt how soft a footstep can be in a forest in winter, but the familiar sound brought me right back to my childhood in the mountains of Boulder, Co. The forest here is dense, and it was already 3:00 and the light was fading. We let the hushed dimness wash over us. Snow rested on the outstretched branches, and I whispered to Beck that I was going to do my best to be quiet and just let him take it all in.
The trail wound through the woods for a short ways, and soon I could see water beyond the dark lines of the trunks. A smile lit my face as I realized how close I now live to the ocean. We broke through the trees to a stunning view of the channel. White snow ran right up to the tide line on the black rock beach. Dark spruce trees, snow outlining their edges, textured the islands and mountains across the calm water. I got a little choked up right there standing amidst all that beauty, because I'm still, and will always be, an emotional banana. This is what Beckett is going to grow up seeing.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Come Visit!
Jen clearly hasn't made posting a priority. She wants to write more for you to read (just as soon as life slows down, she keeps telling herself). At least she's always hopeful.
Until I get to posting again, I just wanted to say on the side of our blog I've embedded a calendar so that anyone wanting to come visit can see when others are planning to come (or when Jen's out of town . . .). Really we just want as many people to come visit as possible, so I'm hoping this little too helps facilitate. It's a little annoying because it only shows two months at a time, so you have to keep clicking "show more" until it gets to June when I've actually entered stuff.
Hope to see you all soon,
Jen.
Until I get to posting again, I just wanted to say on the side of our blog I've embedded a calendar so that anyone wanting to come visit can see when others are planning to come (or when Jen's out of town . . .). Really we just want as many people to come visit as possible, so I'm hoping this little too helps facilitate. It's a little annoying because it only shows two months at a time, so you have to keep clicking "show more" until it gets to June when I've actually entered stuff.
Hope to see you all soon,
Jen.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Where Can You Get More Sun Than the Land of the Midnight Sun?
From the moment you dive into the warm, clear water of the Florida Keys you know you're in a special place. Dunking my head underwater I'm immediately immersed in another world. The colors seem too incredible to be real. The water is seriously aqua blue and deep jade green. Then you realize the world down here is swimming with life! aubergine sea fans wave in the underwater "breeze" and bright orange coral dot the sand. 5 torpon that were at least as long as I was zoomed by at the periphery of my underwater world. Soon and entire school of fish the size of paperclips surrounded me. They pulsed brilliant turquoise, yellow, green, and blue in time with each other as they moved in unison. What an amazing world. I truly hope it's not the last time I see these wonders!
Matt and I enjoyed the heck out of having the sun right overhead (even though it was 95 degrees by 9 am). For six days we snorkeled in pristine, aqua-blue waters, sought the shelter of a palm tree, or enjoyed the incredible invention of air conditioning. It was a nice change up from Alaska, and an entire world away, to be sure!
I also enjoyed seeing my niece and nephew, as they now live 3,000 miles away. At the ages of one and two they are changing too fast to keep up with from so far away. It was really nice to see them learning how to walk and swim. I made the car sound for Hunter as he plowed his car through the sand, he thought that was the best thing ever and kept asking me to "do it again!"
We also ate at some fabulous restaurants. Matt and I are passionate about food if we're passionate about anything!
We had an incredible night at the Islamorada Fish Company overlooking the bay and watching the sunset while we ate wonderfully cooked mahi mahi, scallops, and ahi. Hunter sat right next to me and was a wonderful restaurant guest, even if he ate his spaghetti with his hands!
Kaiyo had the best sushi we've ever had--and we've had lots lately. We took my dad there for Father's Day, and we all felt lucky to share that meal with him.
Because of crazy flight times, Matt and I ended up spending some time exploring Miami on our own. We discovered another great restaurant (Michael's Genuine Food and Drink--OMG! That's a meal we'll relive for awhile to come), a cute little B&B on the river, and found the glorious and somewhat crowded beaches of South Beach.
I came away realizing that even though I live in a city it's nothing compared to a "real" city like Miami. Just looking at those towering apartment buildings with people living on top of each other made me glad my city is so small by comparison.
As we traveled back to Alaska, it might have been the jet lag or the 16 hours traveling, but I was so, so ready to come home. Anchorage was a welcome and familiar sight as we came in for our landing, and it got me thinking. An anchor can be a source of security and stability, a sign that you want to stay put for awhile. Anchorage has definitely become that for us.
Enjoy some pics of the trip!
Matt and I enjoyed the heck out of having the sun right overhead (even though it was 95 degrees by 9 am). For six days we snorkeled in pristine, aqua-blue waters, sought the shelter of a palm tree, or enjoyed the incredible invention of air conditioning. It was a nice change up from Alaska, and an entire world away, to be sure!
I also enjoyed seeing my niece and nephew, as they now live 3,000 miles away. At the ages of one and two they are changing too fast to keep up with from so far away. It was really nice to see them learning how to walk and swim. I made the car sound for Hunter as he plowed his car through the sand, he thought that was the best thing ever and kept asking me to "do it again!"
We also ate at some fabulous restaurants. Matt and I are passionate about food if we're passionate about anything!
We had an incredible night at the Islamorada Fish Company overlooking the bay and watching the sunset while we ate wonderfully cooked mahi mahi, scallops, and ahi. Hunter sat right next to me and was a wonderful restaurant guest, even if he ate his spaghetti with his hands!
Kaiyo had the best sushi we've ever had--and we've had lots lately. We took my dad there for Father's Day, and we all felt lucky to share that meal with him.
Because of crazy flight times, Matt and I ended up spending some time exploring Miami on our own. We discovered another great restaurant (Michael's Genuine Food and Drink--OMG! That's a meal we'll relive for awhile to come), a cute little B&B on the river, and found the glorious and somewhat crowded beaches of South Beach.
I came away realizing that even though I live in a city it's nothing compared to a "real" city like Miami. Just looking at those towering apartment buildings with people living on top of each other made me glad my city is so small by comparison.
As we traveled back to Alaska, it might have been the jet lag or the 16 hours traveling, but I was so, so ready to come home. Anchorage was a welcome and familiar sight as we came in for our landing, and it got me thinking. An anchor can be a source of security and stability, a sign that you want to stay put for awhile. Anchorage has definitely become that for us.
Enjoy some pics of the trip!
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