The DOV is 13!

Yesterday was Douglas’s 13th birthday.  A milestone that I’m not sure I’ve wrapped my mind around, but I’m working on it.  It’s hard to reconcile this creature …

… with this one …

… as it seems like there are either 20 or 2 years in-between, but not 13. 

We named him Douglas Orion Vedder with the intent to immediately nickname him the DOV.  It’s never stuck as anything other than a written moniker, and he’s been referred to as Douglas for most of his life, though he happily answers to Doug as well when other folks call him that.  He gets Douglas from us, or Douglas ORION when I’m ticked off at him. 

(ticked off ... like when he pretends to pass out when descending on the auto-belay at the gym.  sigh).

He’s going to read this, so I have to watch my words :), but he’s growing into quite a delightful young man.  The older he gets, the more his humor (macabre ... see above ... and rather dry most of the time) is something I can relate to all too easily.  He’s starting to show his Rule side in growing more fond of puns also.  I’m not quite sure where his height is coming from, but if we don’t get back on the road mighty soon he’s likely to be forced into sleeping in a fetal position as he’ll have outgrown his bunk!  He continues to shoot up like a weed. 

His birthday ended up quite low key, but utterly enjoyable.   Pancakes, decorations, and then an outing to the climbing gym with the local home school group.  Gratis for all of us, thanks to the neighbor friend who organized it, and a delightfully relaxed atmosphere.  He wore himself out, as did we all, though Fynn would argue otherwise.  Michael and I belayed for a good part of the time, but had a chance to climb a bit ourselves at the end also. 

Dinner was a favorite of his (tortilla soup) and then GF chocolate chip cookie ice cream sandwiches for dessert. 

The neighbors came over to help devour them, and a good time was had by all.  It was really nice to take a day off from work and worries and planning, to just enjoy celebrating a boy turning into a young man.   One that looks uncannily like me at times, has a crazy low voice already, and is going to need a razor very soon.  He’s taking off, sprouting wings and ideas and slow-growing smiles, and heading into teenager territory with more aplomb than I thought possible.  He’s a true delight to have around, and though I didn’t know it was possible to fall more in love with my boy, but it’s proving to be very easy.

Happy 14th year, Douglas!

Xoxo,
Mom

Of Elephants and Snails: Exercising Patience

When we first got to Keren and Bobby’s we found a book on the coffee table called The Fountain of Youth.  It describes 5 exercises which if practiced daily lead to looking younger and feeling great.  It’s filled with stories of ancient monks dancing up mountains carrying gigantic burdens, and as the exercises seemed rather simple, I suggested we incorporate them into our morning routine.  This has been good.  As a family we’ve never exercised together and it’s become a very wholesome part of the morning.  I haven’t noticed anyone looking any younger yet, but then, it’s only been a little more than 2 months.

Heart #1

Heart #2

Heart #3

Heart #4

We’ve also been doing a drawing exercise which I’m hoping will yield some t-shirt designs as we perfect the process.  We each start with a piece of paper and a common theme.  A timer is set and we draw the theme’s object.  When the timer goes off we pass the paper, reset the timer and draw the ground (or perhaps neighboring bodies if the object is floating in space.)  Again we pass and draw the atmosphere (sky, clouds, nebulas etc.)  On the last pass we color and voila! we have four drawings!  We’ve learned quickly to outlaw military equipment, lasers, and explosions.  My favorite theme so far was drawing each other with the last pass being a self portrait.  I’d love to get your opinion on these!

map #1

Map #2

Portraits #1

Portraits #2

Sun #1

Sun #2

We’ve started putting designs on a t-shirt website called REDBUBBLE.  This site is awesome.  I’ve had an account with CafePress for years and never made it public because of its labor-intensive unmanageability.  REDBUBBLE is a comparative dream to operate.  You absolutely HAVE to check out the vinyl stickers!

Selling t-shirts has been a pet-idea of ours from the get-go.  A way to generate income while on the road that does not require continuous production.  This is perhaps the materializing tail of one of the nebulous elephants Bethany alluded to in a previous post.  This elephant is composed of half-formed art-based money-making schemes.  Each, if implemented, might bring in a trickle of income but nothing substantial enough to sustain us until heartLOOSE gains more momentum.  The other elephant wants to ditch the pie-in-the-sky dreams and find a local job. 

Suffice to say, these elephants are not eager to hear each other’s opinions and spend most of their time back to back in the living room pretending the other doesn’t exist.  They won’t even join in our morning exercises!

Thankfully, the more we exercise, the less their sighs and harrumphs disturb us.  Soon we will be dancing up mountains with them on our shoulders, whether they like it or not!  If it seems like we’re moving at a snail’s pace, rest assured that it’s a diesel powered turbo snail.

photos galore, words-a-few ...

a lot of words spoken lately, though not many written.  many thoughts, many ideas, many late nights (and late mornings).  lots of beauty found, but not much shared, yet ...

today's ice storm provided plenty of choices though ...

and lots of fun ...

shh ... they're actually working together ...

as did valentines day ...

(I really DO get the best cards)

and the plates were licked clean ...

after a valentine's breakfast, the next 2.5 hours were taken up with the treasure hunt that keren masterminded, and had worked on for several nights in a row.  11 clues, 2 boys, many puzzles, one stumper of a stereogram, the earning of clues by solving rebus word puzzles ...

... and finished up by finding the treasure of coconut chocolate fudge buried in the freezer.  a most welcome treat :).

we've also managed a few outings, to the sun sphere from Knoxville's hosting of the World's Fair in 1982 ...

knoxville's art museum ...

I loved this one ...

... and multiple visits to the local park. 

we also finished up some stonework.

re-edging the circular drive

there's been a lot of beauty, despite the frequent thrashing of ideas and plans and desires.  learning to find the fun, no matter what.  finding out what really matters, by digging in the corners of our hearts that we haven't been able to see for all the clutter of life-as-we-knew-it.  it appears that emptying is necessary, before there can be a re-filling ... and the finding of new patterns and new places.  a redefining of who we are, and what we really want, before we move on from here.  very very thankful to have a peaceful, warm, happy home in which to do it.

onward.

climbing past my prime

There's a thing or two in Bethany's last post I wanted to touch on.  But before I do I will tell you about my first attempt to remove the tree limb that Fynn posted about.  As a kid growing up in the woods I was a very motivated tree climber, usually in competition or emulation of my older siblings.  In my eagerness to be as adept as they, I often swallowed my fear of heights and took risks that on my own I would have stayed well-enough away from.  Fortunately for my brothers and sisters I was never hurt, for they would have been held responsible. 

The worst I can remember was racing my brother Nathan to the tops of two parallel pine trees behind our house.  I don't remember who got there first but I do remember being breathtakingly above the peak of the house with my feet on two bendy branches, and my little-kid fingers completely circling the skinny trunk.  It was terrifying and awesome!  I looked across at my brother maybe 12 feet away.  We grinned at each other.  Then very carefully he balanced, putting both arms out like wings.  "Look. No hands."  Well.  That was very cool. 

He quickly got hold of the tree again, and I was already positioning my feet to get the best balance.  To his credit, I believe he said "Don't try that!" but I was already putting my arms out.  "Look!" I said proudly, "No hands!", and then I fell.  Backwards.  Thankfully, Douglas Fir trees have a lot of flexible branches, and what I at first assumed was a freefall to my death turned out only to be a giant Paddy-Whack to having the wind pounded out of me. 

By the time Nathan climbed down and ran and brought my mom, my first breath was almost possible.  Nathan did get in trouble for that but the psychological effects were more punishing.  He was scared of heights for years.  My fear lasted a few weeks, I was too much of a show-off to let that get in the way. 

My desperation for recognition certainly kept me fit.  I was one of a handful who could climb the sailors rope to the top of the gymnasium.  I held the chin-up record for a year and learned to climb a tree with no branches, if my arms could reach around it.  Which brings me back to the subject at hand: it had rained for at least a week, here in Tennessee, and I had been gritting my teeth to get at cutting down this tree branch.  So when a grey twilight of no rain presented itself, I took action. 

The branch itself was as thick around as the trunk, but not so thick that a long reciprocating saw blade couldn't span it.  Keren and Bobby had no ladder, but my plan was simple: put the saw below the branch, shimmee 15 ft up the tree with an extension cord and holler for Bethany (whom I hadn't told the plan in my hurry to get it done before dark).  Bethany would tie the saw to the cord and I would hoist it up, plug it in, send the other end down to be plugged and begin sawing, while Bethany pulled the rope. 

I set up, put the cord around my neck and went to the base of the tree on the downhill side.  Hmmm ... this side added about 3 feet to the climb and was surrounded by thorny holly-like bushes.  No matter, I had a lot of determination built up from being stuck inside for a week.  Plus the tree was covered in ivy which should improve my grip, right?  I wrapped my arms around and made like a little dog on a big man's leg.  Shimmee, Shimmee, shimmee.  Pant, pant, pant, shimmee, shimmee.  This was hard goin.  The ivy was still pretty wet from the rain and maybe I should have worn sneakers instead of my dress shoes.  Shimmee shimmee shimmee shimmee.  I was about halfway to that branch and really starting to tire!  I paused.  This was much easier 20 years ago.  Maybe the tree was too fat?  I must look ridiculous to the neighbors, halfway up, just clinging here.  I should give up.  No!  I must go on!  I've got to be able to reach that small branch!

I mustered my strength and poured on the adrenalin, shimmee shimmee, shimmee, scrabble, scrabble, shimmee, shimmee, scrabble.  Did I mention it was 32 degrees out?  What with the wet ivy and the cold, my fingers had gone numb.  Shimmee, scrabble, scrabble, scrabble, shimmee, shimmee, if I could just get my knee 3 inches higher (scrabble, scrabble, slip, shimmee, shimmee,) I could put it on that little branch, (scrabble, slip, shimmee shimmee scrabble) and give my groin muscles a rest from having to grip this slip shimmee shimmee ivy.  And I'd be within 2 feet of reaching the scrabble slip big branch shimmee shimmee slip shimmee shimmee.  Just 3 more inches shimmee shimmee just one more inch slip shimmee slip shimmee shimmee just 3 more inches ... it was at this point my body ran entirely out of shimmee and my fingers out of scrabble.  That was it.  All gone.  Arms and legs frozen in a position of defeat, I slowly slid down all 15 feet of my progress, to the thorns, and staggered away from the tree, hoping this was only a momentary lapse in my prime. 

As the stars of overexertion finished waltzing about the ballroom of my eyes, I found myself staring at the piled fence the boys and I had torn out a week before, and a plan came to me.  I would cut up 2x4's and screw them to the tree as steps, just as soon as I could walk again. 

Bethany mentioned taking a "shortcut" at the Ijams park, and she used the words "nearly vertical."  I assure you, this was no exaggeration.  Twenty years ago this was exactly the kind of climbing I reveled in.  Steep and rocky, but not unnavigable, yet fraught with real heart-pounding peril.  And there was Douglas, blazing a trail with his rock climbing skills, but more than that, with his very own bag of confidence.  There was Fynn, just like I was years ago, willing to try anything his brother could do.  There was Bethany, exhilarated to be off the beaten path, making our own way through a challenge.  I found myself in the strange position of Worry Wart at the back of the pack.  A catcher in the Rye.  A Father of kids on a dangerous path.  It wasn't a "Bad" feeling, it was a "Dad" feeling.  My first impulse was to abort the whole climb, but how could I extinguish all that eagerness?  My next impulse was to climb ahead and scout a path of safety but by this time Douglas was already doing that.  Lastly I realized trusting Douglas to lead in a situation of actual danger was what we both needed.  And he was marvelous.  We reached the top with only one minor slip of Fynn's left foot and new confidence for everyone.  We celebrated by splitting a pack of Reese's peanut butter cups, and bush whacked our way out of the bramble. 

Bethany suggested I might tell the story of the neighbor in the towel, but that tale of comic delight has turned tragic, and I'm leery of putting too much to paper, for fear of being disrespectful.  I will give it a shot, but that's enough post for now.