I invited my parents out to Falling Water Nursery for fun and photography, already having played the Mom Card for cooperative family portraits.

Girls v Boys: Three generations

Ah, mid-2024, when Wes had to stand on his toes to be his father’s height. I love this playful montage of my two favorite men.

… despite not everyone being excited about leaving the house for three days, following an agenda specially crafted by Mama for everyone’s amusement and gratification. [Cue the uproarious laughter. The Venn circles do not overlap with Wes’s sense of fun.]

We started with a beautiful drive up to Arlington to see the (ethically-gray) Outback Kangaroo Farm. How amazing to see ‘roos up close, even albinos and joeys! I kissed an alpaca and I liked it. It’s just an oversized petting zoo, but four of us really enjoyed. (Again, Piper loves animal encounters while Wes is so indifferent as to be sulky when made to participate more than 15 minutes. I think this is an opposite that is only created by proximity.)

Once we got all our petting time, we headed off for our evening at a farmhouse out by the Cascade Highway. Serendipitously, we passed the newly-opened Oso memorial that NPR mentioned recently, so a quick u-turn brought us back to a 5 minute look that stretched into more than an hour of feeling the gravitas of the place and appreciating the beautiful expressions of regular lives lost too soon. The girls eventually got out of the car to see it, spending time over the stories and art. Wes never left the minivan.

Somehow (who plans these things?!?!), we ended up near our favorite bakery in Concrete for breakfast the next morning. I hadn’t told the family the day’s adventure yet, but Wes said he was up for anything as long as it wasn’t another animal tour.

We were going whale watching, which can only be described as an animal tour.

Spoiler: we may never be able to go on another whale excursion, because on this one, we got to watch a pod play up close for so long that I think further attempts will be a disappointment. Beside seals, an otter, bald eagles and classic PNW scenery, this trip resulted in one final discovery: we created golf cribbage. Like most games, the winner of cribbage is the first to get to the end, or 121 points. We flipped that, made the goal to get the fewest points, and I immediately dealt and drew a jack– earning 2 points before laying down a single card. It did not bode well for me, but the game was a hit. We drew out a game we love anyway and shortened what could have been a long boat ride, and with enough snacks, we had 5/5 happy people when we disembarked hours later and drove up to our final destination.

I think I can know say and remember “Semiahoo” (oops, nope, it’s Semiahmoo) up in Blaine. My brother’s family likes to go, so I splurged on one night, though I quickly regretted not getting a second, so we could at least enjoy it in the daytime. But on a chilly spring evening, eating good food with a sunset view, and then having smores around their many outside fires was pretty great. I got a decent bikeride in the next morning, with a pair of bald eagles watching me come and go. The family even let me organize a pickleball game before we drove home, acquiescing to the Activities-Coordinator-Who-Must-Be-Humored.

I snuck one more activity in with lunch in picturesque LaConnor, and the kids got to try my hobby of tasting beer and seeing what sort of faces are made. Their expressions are pretty gruesome, so we’ll stick with the before pictures only.

Thanks, family, for playing along with your truly spectacular mother/wife’s spring break plans!

All sorts of plans were made to get Dwayne and Keith to the path of the eclipse, and Plan N seemed to be feasible to I tagged along to get a little sunshine and adventure. We flew to Nashville, rented both a car and a little Airbnb for three nights.

My favorite sort of travel is to walk out of a well-situated landing pad and just walk. And walk. And walk. We knew we wanted to see the capital buildings and the Parthenon replica, eat good food, and allow serendipity to manifest. Which it did, with a plinth graveyard and an unexpected Ruby.

Of course, that wasn’t the point of the trip. On Monday, we drove across two states to Missouri to set up a picnic around a reservoir. It was a lovely place to while away a sunny afternoon with a book and good company, regardless of impending natural phenomena. The few drones thinking they were oh so cool were mistaken, but I’m glad to experience an eclipse in this lifetime

Our driveway (and car insurance) looks WAY different than it did just a year ago. We now have two teen drivers and due to a few happy (and other) accidents, we now have four cars and a motorhome. Something I thought I was *very* clear about is that my red Leaf is, well, mine. Mine. There are two other autos for our teens to drive, so there is no reason for anyone to drive Mama’s car.

So imagine my surprise when, after hearing that the minivan was making funny noises and witnessing Kyla leaving the house to drop Piper off at high school before she went to first day of classes at the community college, I walk out to the garage and my car isn’t there.

Turns out, since my side of the garage door was open, she took my car to school.

Sit with that for a moment. My car with my wallet in it. My chapstick. My shopping bags–only useful when I have my wallet. I had two schools to drive to that day for library sub jobs, and I could streamline my errands by hitting Costco on the way home from the second school. I was already on the edge of being late when I discovered that for no reason at all, they thought it was easier–for them–to take my car than theirs. Wow, those brains have a lot of wrinkling to do.

Prologue: Dark gloweringand scathing rebukes don’t kill, but those two will never, ever take my car again without triplicate approval forms.

Piper turned 16 and got her license that very day.

We celebrated her birthday, her license, and Valentine’s together.

Dwayne took her down to CA to visit grandparents and they went on a very Piper-friendly adventure (“The One Where A Camel Fails to Eat Piper”).

A friend of ours was turning 50 and wasn’t sure what to do about it, so heading north seemed as good as any other plan, even when the Clipper and the Coho (and even Butchart Gardens) don’t operate in January. That’s what the BC ferry system is for!

We couldn’t decide what was best about our long weekend (besides being sans kids). Was it the tasteful condo overlooking the inner harbor? The evening ghost walking tour? The delightful tea at Abkhazi Gardens? Books & Shenanigans?

After a brunch and book morning, I took off on foot for Beacon Hill Park and to tromp and traipse as far as I could, and even when I almost made it back to the VRBO, I pivoted to walk the inner harbor down to Fisherman’s Wharf. I remember it because it was an afternoon that left our own amusements, I walked with an audiobook, Jen luxuriated in a bath, and Dwayne cozied up with his work computer– and we were all equally content.

Thanks for letting us celebrate with you, Jen!

And shares cake with Gramma and Grandpa K.

I managed to take the boys camping in the hottest temperatures (105 F) in my favorite Bavarian-themed town last August, and when we came again as a family for the weekend, we hit the coldest temps on record here, at -14 F. At first, I was bummed that it was too cold to spend time outside, rent cross-country gear, or even sled. (I still have to learn the hard way each time that sledding on iced-snow hurts. I stopped the second time I knocked the air out of my lungs for a disconcerting amount of time.) But we were all at various stages of colds, and Piper had just gotten hooked on BBC’s excellent Sherlock, and probably for the only time in 2024, I cuddled up on a couch and watched hours and hours of TV– and reveled in it! We still got a snowball fight in, a walk to town for gingerbread cookies and festivities, and, as is my want, alternating hot rubbing and snow-angeling. Usually, I have no interest in going someplace only to sit around in the rental eating popcorn. But maybe this whole resting thing is something I can roll with for 2024.

Postscript: “But maybe this whole resting thing is something I can roll with for 2024.”

12/31/2024 Update: it is not.

Second Postscript: My stance on beer remains constant.

After a lovely NYE with both brothers and their families and a fabulous Brazillian feast by Dwayne, we woke up to a low-key 2024 that needed a little more splash to it. Sweet, darling, naive Brian and Sandi talked themselves into jumping with Wes and me. Dwayne and Piper took pictures, while Kyla missed the fun while she went to work. This boomerang video is my favorite.

I’ve have been abusing this bikini since my 20s (which is the beauty of bikinis–if you have little shame, they are hard to outgrow). I was really proud that Wes braved it with me and loved that S&B joined us. All three my parents’ kids jumped on New Years Day! Good luck for sure.

Happy 2024!