Sleepless

 

• Restless last night, sleep unattainable,  I decided to read for a while.  Out of  bed I scanned the bookshelves,  the colorful covers, the enticing titles until “The River Why?” caught my attention. I looked at it for a bit, while favorite scenes came to mind. Then tome in hand and dusted off, I retired to a dark quiet corner and settled into an old overstuffed chair. Read almost 20 years ago and kept because it had struck a cord, I opened and began at page one. The first few pages had my attention, and enjoying the narrative I read on.  Suggested to me, those many years ago, by my Niece Chelsea Berg Harding, I paused to search her Facebook page. Recently at the ocean enjoying her special place and posting a selfie with that signature big smile.

      Back to the novel, a few pages later, the author’s story distracted me. David James Duncan and more directly his education. Portland State University is all I found. Raised in Oregon and now living in Montana he also penned The Brothers K, a fact that  I  did not know or had forgotten, but that book has also earned  permanent place in my collection. Mental note to reread   it and to place them side by side on the shelf, maybe even order hard bound copies.

      Back to the novel it’s now past midnight. This is feeling like an all nighter.

Last Week At My House

Seasons

The Seasons

I said "goodnight" and softly closed the door. Outside the deep blackness of this winter night is overwhelming; seeming to absorb even the lights from the neighboring windows. The world feels shrunken to the distance of my vision, and this sort of night always makes me feel peaceful - It's quiet and the world's bustle is locked out. Or maybe it was inside the house that left me feeling this way. As I bade farewell, Meghan, sitting in the rocker, was gently nursing Owen and he was making the soft cooing sounds of satisfaction. With the young mother’s look of total contentment, she wished me well and instructed me to “drive safe and text when I was home”
It was the Dave’s night to cook, and both he and Stella were sitting at the dining table, eating grilled sandwiches and soup. Eating, talking and swinging her feet, Stella waved good bye without missing a beat. Meanwhile, enjoying his daughter’s attention, and the warm meal, Dave radiated the image of a perfect dad.

I really did not want to go; but my visit was spontaneous and it was getting late. Out on the road, the night’s blackness continued with heavy rain added to the mix. Cars passed and quickly vanished, into the dark, with dim red lights the only reminder of their existence. The wipers, beat a steady rhythm back and forth, but barely kept the windshield clear. Inside the cab, the heater, on high, blasted out so much heat that my face was flushed and the radio blasted out enough oldies rock n roll to take me back in time.

Enjoying the moment my mind began to wander and I remembered an old pick-up truck I owned in my early twenties - both door windows were missing and the heater didn't work. Bundled up like an arctic explorer I drove it to work in that condition all winter. The following summer one of my coworkers lifted the hood and showed me how the heater could be turned on and off. And not much after that I had the windows repaired.

Smiling to myself, I drove on toward home enjoying the night, and the seasons of life.

 

Lessons Taught or Lessons Poorly Learned

It is summer time, 1956, and I am enjoying these carefree times at my grandparents before embarking upon the great adventures of the second grade. My two sisters and I are sitting at the kitchen table, and having finished supper we are waiting for grandmother to serve desert. She sets a bowl of Jello in front of each sister and remarks casually to me, “I didn’t fix you any desert….. because you don’t like Jello.” Minutes pass before my breath returns and the room stops spinning. Then; as I mentally review the vague comments uttered a day earlier, it struck me – what appeared to be my dear maternal grandmother was in fact a multi tentacled, fire breathing alien from the evil empire. This creature masquerading as Granny, had somehow devoured her and was at that moment using the disguise with the obvious intent of leading us to the slaughter! There could be no other explanation - I'm stunned, and confused.........What does jello have to do with desert? This is absurd! Damn it!.... My sisters sit with tight-lipped grins; completely unaware of the approaching doom, as I, traumatized, adjust to this new world order. Miraculously we survived that day and ever so slowly I realized Grandma was trying to teach me to guard my words. “Watch what you say or expect to eat those words later. There will always be someone to remind you of thoughtless comments made, and opinions misspoken”. She could have explained it to me in those terms with a slice of Apple Pie and I may have turned out normal. Fifty-four years later I am being taught that lesson all over again. Having steadfastly refused to read any Science Fiction novel presented, on the grounds that it is just not good literature, I finally agreed to “try one” in an attempt to quiet my older sister. Instantly she produced a paper bound tale of inter-galactic conflict and survival, titled Old Mans War, by John Scalzi. Now, as I turn the last page, having enjoyed space travel and survived alien attacts, I am curious what my sister will recommend next. And remembering that lesson grandma taught so long ago, I am preparing to dine on the words “I don’t like Science Fiction!”. Incidentally, I can’t help but wonder why this lesson seems to have a recurring theme in my life. Hmm I wonder what is next!

Monday, March 16, 2009 Yesterday it snowed at our house. Big fat snow flakes until the lawn was once again completely covered in white. That got me to thinking that maybe, just maybe ski conditions might be good up on nearby Mt Baker. And besides, last weeks black eye from snowboard lessons with Dave is nearly healed, so this morning after coffee I headed up the hill, where I found the parking lot less then half full and snow falling hard. After gearing up and purchasing my ticket, I began to worry that maybe there is too much snow falling, visibility would suck and I had made a mistake. That concern was quickly forgotten. From the top of Chair One, I headed directly off toward Chair 8. With my board floating through a foot of untracked powder, I made gentle carving turns until I got to the steep then I raced to get in line for Chair 8. Visibility at the top was a little tuff, but doable and I enjoyed run after run through the deep soft conditions. Snow fell hard most of the day, gusty wind kept the snow tracks full and each run felt like the “first man on the mountain”. Temperatures were ideal for powder snow; however, staying warm while riding back up was a bit of a challenge. My chair mate on one ride up  was a grey beard who told me he has been boarding for three years but because of his surfing background he was really is “in his element.” “Year one” he told me “I broke my shoulder, year two I broke my arm.” “This year” he continued “I knocked out my two front teeth”! Jeeze, I got a black eye once, I mumbled under my breath. As we got off the chair he shouted “follow me! I got a great route through some trees”. He went left and I…… well, I didn't follow him. Off on my own, I couldn't help but notice that the trail groomers must have had a tough go in the morning as most of the runs were narrow tracks and the machines had piled snow off to each side in a long furrow, or jump depending on your outlook. Racing down slope I would hit the furrow, get some air, (keep in mind I am attempting to learn how to jump) land in deep powder, bank a sharp turn and over the furrow the other direction back out on to the track. By mid day this fun was over because the furrow was lost in new and wind blown snow. Not to worry; however, the half pipe  saw a lot of me on this fine day. On one, very memorable run, I dropped into the pipe and hit the far side lip perfectly getting my best “jump” so far. Oh my Gawd did that give me a rush. Snow just kept piling up and it was still coming down hard at the end of the day when I headed for home. As soon as I arrived, I phoned my instructor (son-in-law), Dave, just to let him know it was an absolutely astounding day on the mountain. An hour later I received a text from Jonathan, inviting me to a few days riding in Tahoe. That is a big explanation point to a great day.

Family Sledding Day - Very Nice

We took a break from Skiing and Snow Boarding to spend the day at Granlibakken Ski Area, and had a blast!

Newlyweds Meghan & David Terrorize the Slopes

Go'in solo, Meghan, with the brakes on!

Hey YOU Look-Out!!!!

Too Late!

Looks like more trouble ahead

Jason disembarking or.......?

Good lookigg duo!! Lunch Break

Lana explaining the rules! When I say whoa I mean ....go?

One fun group of family.

Josh leading the pack.

Uncle Jonathan closing the gap This is Teamwork

Father & Son Contemplate their First Sled Trip Together

It looked easy

And, just so we remember!