Old dog, new tricks

It's been a long time since I tried something new. Last weekend we went back to Lake Mac. It was a weekend of water, sun and sand. I took Monday off so we could stretch it out a bit more. The Harris' stayed too, so we had someone to hang with when everyone else left. The lake emptied out from the weekend campers.

A camp neighbor offered up water skis to borrow. Phil and D were encouraging me to give it a try, since I never have done it before in my life. I was worried about getting hurt and kept putting off D. Then in a moment of clarity, I said I would give it a try. What was I scared of after all? Sure I got my arse handed to me after a headstand attempt on a paddle board but I was feeling better now. If water skiing was what was going to paralyze me, then so be it. I'd rather be paralyzed by an act than by a decision.



So D borrowed the skis and we went for a ride. It was sunset: the lake was practically ours with only a few boats and a parasail to be seen. The water was clear and calm in the waning light. Phil gave me the mechanical pointers of the task. If I'm good for anything, it's following instructions about how to navigate my body into an activity. I'm a natural athlete that way (lol).

I sat in the water awkwardly holding my legs in position with the skis. The boat started forward: The first time I faltered. The second time I felt it. The third time I was up and running; not for long and certainly not pretty but I was doing it. I have to admit, it felt pretty great. I was proud of myself. And tired; I thought that was it for the day. I took a break out of sheer lack of strength.

Everyone swam and jumped off the boat. Miss M showed off with cannon balls and jack knifes. I like to think I inspired her bravery. Little A got in on the action too, just to keep up. It was fun and I was proud of both girls. D too for getting me going.

I decided to give the skiing one more try before we headed back to camp. This time, I was up and at it for a much longer stretch. I felt the sheer exhilaration that comes with finding out you CAN DO something you thought was scary. I felt a sense of pride I haven't realized in a long time. I felt young and capable and cool. I couldn't get the smile off my face. It felt kind of like this:


I guess it looked a lot less like that though. Still I made it outside the wake and into one long great turn. It looked more like this:




In the Pit

We went to Boettcher Concert Hall and tried on our listening muscles. We literally sat on stage while the musicians surrounded us and participated in Tiny Tots by Inside the Orchestra, a 45-minute performance created to introduce kids ages 6 and under to orchestral music. It was a really fantastic experience; one of those things that's probably logistically cooler as an adult though as a kid you're pretty enthralled too.

We watched as the conductor explained how things work, we laughed as guest conductors lead the orchestra, we were enamored by a young (8 year old) gal who did a piano solo, and completely taken aback by a serenade. I would go back in a heartbeat. Miss M wants to go back because she really wanted to join that 8 year old savant at the piano (which I had to bag because I've seen her play on Nancy and Ed's piano and it's no Nadia's Theme)...

Willy Wonka in the Target Factory


We were prepping for our Gingerbread get together when Miss M found those plastic candy canes filled with stuff that seems so magical when you are a kid. She walked around the store with multiple canes, so excited they were just her size (and how does one know intrinsically to use a cane like that). In any case, the clicking on the floor caught my ear as I deciphered the perfect candies for decorating bread product. I couldn't find her but I heard her tapping along down the aisle. It brought me back to the version of Willy Wonka when Gene Wilder makes his first appearance to the crowd. These silly moments get me every time.

Simple Song

The Shins

I've never had a song written about me. It's one of those things I silently desire but when faced with the reality of my life, I'm not putting my money on the compliment. One of the best compliments I have however received was from D, saying I inspired him. I hold that compliment in place of the poetry my untold song lyrics paint. It is D's poetry. His way is more subtle than stanzas and I tend to digest it in the silence of my thoughts later. 

Tonight he came home talking about the Gotye song again. It has been in his head for at least a week now since we watched the Somebody That I Used To Know video and I showed him the video of the cover by Walk Off the Earth. I can't tell you how many times we watched it (I forgot about how cool music videos can be). D gets something in his head and puts it on repeat for hours...days; he likes to study it to no end. When he walked in today, he was telling me how he listened to the radio all day and they played the Gotye a lot. I already knew that because I am the last person on the planet that still likes listening to the radio on a daily basis. He mentioned another song that he really liked that was being played a lot too. I knew it was Simple Song by the Shins. Once I called it up on itunes, it was there in our life playing a special concert for us as his head nodded yes to my music identification. 

We went back and forth about the lyrics, about the meaning and music as we ate dinner and bathed miss M. D contends that it is an almost perfect song, a masterpiece that might live through the ages. Later, he went downstairs while I went up to work. As I climbed the stairs I heard him in his office watching the Shins' video. I had to check it out too and find their NYC concert I watched a few weeks ago on NPR. I found this acoustic version of James Mercer singing the song in his studio and have had it on repeat the entire night.


You sure must be strong
and you feel like an ocean made warm by the sun

I contend that the song is about love, about discovering another soul aligned with yours and letting them lift you out of your wallow. It's about fantasizing the good stuff, risking your heart, and making a connection. Just this afternoon I was thinking about how all we really have in this life is whole-heartedly sharing our experiences with those we hold close, even if sometimes it means we find unrequited love. I've come to welcome the bleeding (if I don't take the heartbreak too seriously) as much as the laughter for how alive it can make me feel. After listening to the song for hours on end, I contend it is about how our silent desires can fuel the most powerful experiences we live. It's about how our presence is what really brings people joy.

In so many ways the song feels like home. I do think it will be a piece of art to be enjoyed for years to come. Somewhere in the repeat waves of lyrics, I realized I have no clue what someone would write about me in a song. I would take this song in heartbeat but I'm sure it is someone else's tune. Instead, I'll take the evening, the familiarity of my love, and his inquisitiveness, which inspires me.

Love's such a delicate thing that we we do,
with nothing to prove,
which I never knew.

Underwater Play



Miss M and I went to the Denver Zoo the other day and got caught up at the sea lion exhibit; at the windows where you can watch what happens in their underworld. She has never been taken by them the way she was the other day. For some odd reason, the zoo crowds were foregoing the lower level that day so it felt like a secret reprieve. I liked the escape so I could take in my girl in yet another moment of discovery. We shared the joy and beauty of these animals together, mostly alone in the shade with their silent swiftness to keep us buoyed in place.

Watching the sea lions swim by creates such a wave of excitement. They pass the windows and tumble together in the water playing, streaming right by you. Then they swim on back to the other end of their cage. That elated feeling dissipates. Everything stills in the water and little bubbles drift to the surface. The streams of sunlight take center stage. As the calm returns, you look deep in to the tank and see their shapes growing larger again.