9:55 am, September 21, 2009

As we were preparing to leave our little visitor's center, a park ranger stopped by and offered to take us the rest of the way to the trailhead. At that point (cold and tired), we were planning on stopping at reynold's campsite, only a half-mile in from the trailhead. However, once we arrived at reynold's, we decided to continue on to our original destination, Gunsight Pass campground, approximately 6 miles from the trailhead. And that is where I sit now...cozy on a log with my hot taster's choice in the nalgene, surrounded by mountains on all sides. I'm looking at Gunsight Pass, approx. 1700 ft higher than the 5300 ft elevation of the log I am sitting on, my body sore, wondering how the hell I will cross it tomorrow. We arrived just before dark last night...had planned on dinner, but opted to go right to sleep. I was chilled as I fell asleep, but awoke toasty warm around 1:30am having to go to the bathroom. That meant braving the icy ground outside...barefoot...and for a split second, I wondered why we hadn't gone to Florida. I returned to my toasty sleeping bag and slept until 7:30. Awoke to sun and cloudless skies and huevos rancheros (aka, really good powdered scrambled eggs) and topped it off with my taster's choice. Cleaned up breakfast and headed back to my toasty sleeping bag to get warm and fell asleep. It is now 2:30 and I await Pad Thai. Just prior to meal prep, we opened a bottle of port, taking turns sipping from the nalgene. And now I am feeling the tawny goodness, soaking in my surroundings...the weeds seem to move on command as the wind blows, waterfalls rush all around me, the mountains...regal and still...and I remember why I didn't go to Florida.

3:00pm...I am happy to report that "Backpacker's Pantry" Pad Thai was nothing less than divine. And I am now finishing it off with a chocolate brownie clif bar. Lunch is now packed up and naptime looms...again. To be stripped of all amenities has been bliss...there is nothing I "should" be doing other than just...being...and I rather love the feeling.

5:30pm...Awoke from an outdoor nap to the sound of voices. We have now been joined five other hikers, one of whom has a very annoying voice. Chad may very well have to consume the rest of the porto tonight. I am back at the meal prep area (because of bears, it is actually illegal to have any food at our campsite) with my journal and book. The sun still shines, though the temp is noticeably dropping.

"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves." ~John Muir

1:55 pm, September 20, 2009

I'm sitting under an overhang at Logan's Pass, Glacier National Park, Montana. This spot is also known as the visitor's center, though currently, there are no visitors. We arrived at the park last night, set up camp and took a walk. This morning, we donned our packs and hitchhiked from our car, intending to be dropped off at our trailhead, but the road was closed due to snow. So, our kind drivers dropped let us off at the gate and thus began our hike through Glacier. From the gate, we walked 2-3 miles to this vacant visitor's center. As we neared this overhang, we met Shelly, a weary hiker we most assumedly rescued from an untimely death. On her way out from a six day hike, she was soaked, alone and without food. We fed her a cliff bar, hot taster's choice, and wrapped her up in my marmot, hat and sleeping bag. Next, arrives brother and sister, Devon and Erin. After passing around hot taster's choice in the nalgene, the sibling duo took the freezing hiker to their car where by now they have offered her heat and homemade banana bread. which brings me to right now...Chicken Cashew Curry heats on the "stove". I want more taster's choice. Heavy snow is falling, temperature is a chilly 32 degrees.

It's 3am,

and I'm giddy.
Because I'm here.
On my way home from here.
I can't wait to write about it and post my pics.
But I'm behind.
With so many things to write about.
And every time I sit down to blog, I feel like this.
Because this has been my problem.
Which means no facebook.
No apartment therapy.
No music browsing.
No late night rituals of writing and deleting and rewriting that I love.
And then I get like this.
And then it didn't help when on a whim one day I used this.
Except I didn't look like her.
But more like her.
I'm serious.
I might as well get this hair cut.
Come ON.

Sigh.

It's not coming out right.

This was meant to be a fabulous, inspiring post about montana, but I ended up talking about Kate Gosselin's front mullet and how much I miss the internet and my blonde hair. I just have so many things to write about. I need to write - as in imperative to my existence. Which is why I'm looking into the internet this week.

That, and highlights.

Montana pics and more soon.

I miss

my blog.

You can’t write without living fully and you can’t live fully and still have time to write.

Such has been the paradox of my life over the last few months. But I’ve wanted to write about all of it…every detail, every feeling. The pain. The relief. I can’t help but view all of life as…story. I can’t help but see every moment as a page in my book…something to be recorded. Because it’s all a journey and all beautiful…Sitting alone in tears on the floor of my empty apartment the day I got the keys. Getting my job and running outside to call my mom and dad and tell them. Getting my own car insurance. Hiking the pictured rocks. My first week without my kids and missing them like crazy. Meeting really great people. More trips to the capitol. The day my divorce was final. Accepting and dealing with the D on my forehead and the suspected disapproval it brings from others. People who don’t know what to say, so they say nothing…or they say that God still loves me… Though I can’t say that I blame them…because when you’ve been raised a certain way, sometimes it is all you know. And all of that comes back when I sit down to write…what if someone reads this and doesn’t understand. Because not everyone will…and that is ok, because how can they…especially mutual friends…and family…it gets complicated. I feel like I’ve really tried to be careful…sensitive. But then I feel like I write best when I can freely write uncensored….and I can’t always do that….so, then…I don’t write. And time passes. And then like anything, the longer you don’t write, the harder it is to start back up. But, because I want so badly to record my life, I will keep writing…going back a bit, and for the sake of posterity…say what I need to say.

pride

you may say that I'm a dreamer, but i'm not the only one...

oh, I had a great weekend...lansing celebrated gay pride this weekend...i was alone and so, as is customary, I grabbed my camera and headed for the capitol. how fabulous is joyce....in her chaps, pearl tie, harley and complete zest for life...and jocelyn benson...(in the red)...who is running for secretary of state and stole my heart with her passion for equality and civil rights...and I think I want to join the peace team...and then the highlight...when the band softly played jesus loves me...afterwards, I headed to old town and perused quaint shops and galleries. it was a really good day.

I moved today

I moved today.

to my own place.

I think something just kicks in...almost biologically, when you go through something like this. And I find myself hesitant as I write that...because I'm not a victim. Moving, under even normal circumstances, is humbling...but even more so, when you're ill-prepared, as I was. Its not that I didn't think about it every day for months, because I did. Its not that I didn't put the word out at work for copy paper boxes, because I did. Its not that I didn't stop what I was doing altogether and attempt to pack, because I did. Its just that each time I did, I'd come across pictures...ornaments...baby blankets....remnants of another life. it was almost paralyzing. like I didn't know what happened to my life. a life that I tried so hard to make work. so, needless to say, there was little accomplished when help arrived - help that basically showed up, because I suck at asking for help. and there's nothing left to do at that point, but swallow your pride as you watch friends carry out casserole dishes, with a bottle of hair mousse inside, a phone charger, and a lone spoon. And I sit here now, alone, amongst boxes and paint cans, a myriad of thoughts and feelings inside. I am relieved. empowered. ecstatic. proud. sad. wishing I could peek in on sleeping babies.

but, it is what it is. and I move on. with hope. much, much hope.

behold,

my first Red Wings game (last thursday night)...
we danced.
screamed this song at the last goal.
went downstairs after the game.
bypassed security.
went out onto the ice.
and met the players.
yes. I said met the players.
I'm afraid it cannot be topped.
go wings.

capitol, take 3

Somer had a field trip yesterday at the steps of the capitol for "ACES",
All Children Exercising Simultaneously. I work within walking
distance, so I ran over on my break to join in and catch a few
pics. You should have seen her...she was so into it.

race for the cure

how cool it was, to see them round the corner holding hands!

how cute is she.

running for my cousin, mary, a breast cancer survivor.

I started the race off with this 78 year old man...we were chatting

as we were waiting to begin...said he was aiming for 27 minutes and that I

better not pass him or make him look bad. later on, I saw him and ran after

him to see how he finished. Sure enough, he finished at 27:15, easily

beating my 30.42. So, I had Savannah snap a picture...afterwards,

he told me I should try the Crim, a huge race in Flint I was well aware of,

where people come from all over the world to run. Then, he told me who he was...

THE Bobby Crim who actually started the Crim Race!

couldn't resist this

I seem to spend a lot of time here...my blog is starting to look

like an advertisement for the city of lansing!

My girls and I ran the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure

at the Capitol today...I did the 5k and they did the kids' mile.

There were probably over 8000 people there...the energy

was electric...it was so neat to be part of such a huge event

honoring women....oh, it was a great day!

happy easter

our festivities began saturday morning...
with a chilly easter egg hunt on the capitol lawn,
and later, a very involved egg coloring session.
today, we laughed in church, stopped to see the sheep on hagadorn,
and finally, enjoyed a very yummy easter dinner
with my mom.

33

and in between easter egg hunts, barb days and a new job (!)...

I turned thirty three.

and was reminded,

yet again,

of all that is good and wonderful in my life...

including three wonderful daughters,

who gave me the sweetest surprise party.

thank you to all of you who made me feel so special on my day.

I am so rich.

barb meets dad

so....the pics are a little late.

but the day was so fab,

it just begged to be recorded...

from the dancing,

to the laughter,

to the sunset on the way home.

fab, indeed.

butterflies

"It is necessary to write, if the days are not to slip emptily by. How else, indeed, to clap the net over the butterfly of the moment? for the moment passes, it is forgotten; the mood is gone; life itself is gone..."

Oh, it was a good day. Positively...grand. How can it not be, when your dad meets you in his driveway with a martini before you're even out of your car? how can it not be, when you're singing and dancing to con te partiro on a sunday afternoon in his living room? how can it not be, with precious daughters by your side? how can it not be, enjoying it with a fabulous friend named barb and her son jake? how can it not be, biting into a max and erma's chocolate chip cookie fresh from the oven?

grand, indeed.
more pics to follow...

run, forest, run

oh, I am pumped.
I joined a running group.
today was the kickoff run.
thus, the 2009 season has officially begun.
after my winter hiatus, I surprisingly managed to finish without stopping.
of course, running alongside mike and lana didn't hurt.
not to mention, the 20 others or so in the group.
it was fun. a lot of fun.
especially going to breakfast afterwards.
and meeting new people.
like mike. and pete. and holly.
oh, I am pumped.

me thinks...

we should get a group together and do this.
and you think I'm kidding.
but, I'm not.
because life cannot be lived standing on the wall.
no, indeed.

you must watch the whole thing....
and get your back up off the wall.

bargain

$1.99....urban outfitters.

Sometimes,

...I wonder if blogging saved my life. It was my way of finding the good in my life...in the middle of a very shitty time. "Find the good. It's all around you. Find it. Showcase it. And you'll start believing it." Jesse Owens. and you know...I did start to believe it. I did. some people call it...fake...but it isn't. it's the power of positive thinking. choosing to be happy. and I am living proof...and it snowballs...the good. the positivity. you begin to attract positive people into your life...and then it snowballs even more...

Check out my new water bottle...only $5 at Bath and Body. I had to have it.

and the night shall be filled with music

We almost didn't go...my cousin and I. I'd had a crazy day at work. Then...upon returning home....crazy kids. They were hyper...and I... irritable. But I'd told them we'd go. So...we went.

We're a lot alike...my cousin and I... spontaneous. aloof. I called her on my way out...and soon, we were both on campus...the blind leading the blind. we parked...quickly coralling all six kids together as we headed in the exact opposite direction of the Hart Music Hall. It was dark...cold...rainy. We ended up at the Kellogg Center, laughing as all eight of us closely examined the rather illegible map...strategically planning our route, not really caring that time was quickly passing and that we had now missed the first thirty minutes of the concert. So, we headed back out into the rain....and right alongside Red Cedar River, we skipped. all eight of us. because nobody really skips anymore. and they should..so there we were...in the dark, with big scary trees on both sides of us. "It's like we're in a movie," one of the younger ones said. And it kind of was...

We finally arrived at Hart Music Hall...with sopping hair...feeling gargantuan in our wetness...and within minutes we were dancing...our best attempts at salsa...and laughing.

I'm so glad I went. I knew I would be. We stopped on the way home for dollar sundaes at McDonald's. The girls said, "Thank you so much for tonight, Mom." We were quite a sight, in this old MSU music hall, with all our kids...all of us with sopping hair...but we didn't care. And it was fabulous. And I wouldn't have had it any other way...running in the cold rain...laughing...even arriving late...oh, it was such a good night. So, thank you, Heather, for suggesting we should go. And Molly, sweet Molly, who so warmly welcomed us, without even the littlest bit of embarrassment, and her husband, our very own Jon Weber.

"And the night shall be filled with music,
And the cares that infest the day
Shall fold their tents like the Arabs
And as silently steal away."
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, The Day Is Done

and because I would hate to plagiarize...this cousin I speak so fondly of...is responsible for the phrase...feeling gargantuan in our wetness...as well as the idea that people should skip. And I agree with her. they should. check out her blog here. it is fabulous. and so is she. not to mention, a rockstar. for real. I so love her.

good morning

"The moment when you first wake up in the morning is the most wonderful of the twenty-four hours. No matter how weary or dreary you may feel, you possess the certainty that, during the day that lies before you, absolutely anything may happen. And the fact that it practically always doesn't, matters...not a jot. The possibility...is always there." ~Monica Baldwin (ellipsis added...couldn't help myself...thought it needed some...pauses. I think Monica would understand)

it's going to be a good day.

I just know it.

and a very happy birthday to my cousin, tracy.

toasting my cup of coffee to you.

and your thirty seven fabulous years.

I love you.

deeply.

bliss

Had the itch to drive downtown a few days ago...so I grabbed my camera, notebook and pen, and we were off. found a little coffee shop and wrote for a bit...the cozy glow of the capital dome in clear view. ah...bliss.

coffee pots. deb talan. the smell of libraries.

I am home alone...sitting right here in my little spot. I just made a pot of coffee in my new coffee maker, on sale at Meijer's for $14. It is just what I've been wanting...a little programmable four cup that makes me so happy. I've been thinking I need to add more...quality...to my days. I've been rushing lately. Running late. Leaving messes. Lots of them. I need to start waking up earlier and I'm thinking my new coffeepot will be just the ticket to help me establish my new habit. This also means I will have to go to bed earlier and well, I just hate to go to bed early. I really do. Something just happens at night - no matter how tired I am - everyone falls asleep and I just...come alive. I pour my tea, turn on my music, jump online, and before I know it, it is 1 in the morning. We'll see...I will keep you posted on my progress. Anyway...It's been a good day. I've been doing a little laundry here and there, napped a bit, made a big macaroni salad just to keep in the fridge (very unlike me...makes me feel so...together...like one of those planned and prepared moms), played a game of Life with Savannah and Somer (it was a good game...I won the nobel peace prize...Savannah said it was for my book), and now blogging with the sounds of deb talan, who I believe I would be great friends with, if we ever met. Her voice and lyrics are just so...honest and raw and I love honest and raw. If I had her phone number, I'd call her and invite her over for waffles as there is just something rather endearing about sharing waffles with a friend. You understand, don't you?

I'm reading If You Want to Write....a small, tattered hardback with a plastic cover that crinkles when I open it. The pages are worn...yellowed...and smell like library. Not surprisingly, it is overdue. But I just can't seem to return it. I have dog-earred so many pages I have defeated the whole purpose of dog earring. Upon opening this gem, I am all at once inspired and frustrated...I never know whether to keep reading or pick up a pen. Maybe I will blog about it later...