We could do it right here

QFC wine aisle

We were in QFC tonight, buying wine.  Me, Amy, and Jamie.  And since this morning I told my Anatomy & Physiology study partner that we had to recite our poem in the grocery market, I suggested we do it right there.  Tonight, in the wine aisle, while the store was pretty much empty.

Nope, turns out I was mistaken.  This morning in my study/post-flight delirium, I remembered the poll results all wrong.  We are to recite our poems on a BUS! (despite my best efforts at finding every free computer I could and voting for the private party)

And no, that is NOT cheating.  Especially since it didn't work!

Yes, tomorrow at this time I may have already spoken the words of Kipling.  Straight from my memory while aboard a Seattle Metro bus, ripe for your viewing pleasure, or perhaps comical entertainment.  Or maybe you won't even be able to watch it from the sheer embarrassment of it all.  (that would be best, do not watch)

Believe me, please do not watch.  For your sake.

For now, I leave you with my lame attempt at a new background.  I'd have a better one, but Blogger can kiss my ass.  The file is always too big, or not big enough.

That's what she said!

-Melissa

Bee stings and all

By Amy Baranski

I've returned from tropical paradise and am presently sitting in the sun in front of my apartment building. I've got my laptop situated on a postage stamp of grass between the sidewalk and the street. Mara and Ida are speaking in tongues and sliding down the neighbor's handrail. Their moms and Kenny are chilling on the porch. A honeybee is working the clover around me and the grass has already created a rash along my arm. It's ok, I'm in the sun, which is all that matters.

Urban Bee Company toured BeeWise apiary in Kaua'i.

Now if only I were in the tropics. But I can't complain there's plenty of green here and blue skies. I came back to towering tomato plants, bolting arugula, peas that are still producing (it's been a cool spring/summer), yellow zucchini, green beans, carrots that look good, garlic that's finally divided, and some dead raspberries. You can't win them all.

The air is so different here. Kaua'i wasn't muggy by Midwest or East Coast standards but certainly more sultry, humid, and warm. I want to go baaaack. There's something about island time and island life that's so much...how do you say it....better.

I think my last dispatch was immediately after one of the amazing sunrises we saw from the east shore. That day ended up being a comedy of errors. I went back to the condo and found myself locked out. It was too early in the morning for any sane person to be awake.

I attempted to rouse my husband by throwing kukui nuts (or something similar) at the sliding door on the lanai. He was unconvinced by the sound and thought they were pigeons. I considered walking down the street to the coffee shop but realized I had no money. No money, no paper to write on, no phone. I threw the nuts at the window for what felt like forever.

Then I puttered around the koi pond and watched the pool be cleaned. After an hour I realized there was a phone centrally located in the lobby. I dialed the room number and Byron let me in.

The last shot before I was stung.

A couple days later I almost lost my purse to an approaching wave. I had my three-year old nephew watchfully by my side as I saw my purse go out on the other. I vigorously dropped the S-bomb, grabbed my nephew from the wave and lunged for my purse that was spiraling away in a shallow current. The money was salvageable, the cell phone was not.

On another day I was taking shots in a local apiary, opting to go gloveless, so I could manage the camera better, and impress my husband with my composure around the mighty insects. The bees quickly went into attack mode bombing the camera. I was stung on my pinky. In the ensuing hours my hand swelled into a club. This lasted a few days, nothing a little compression and saltwater couldn't cure.

Some mosquito bites, sand flea rashes, and a few bruises later our trip was coming to an end. It was an incredible experience and I'm so happy my sister and brother-in-law and their son shared it with us.

I want sun, palm trees, a breeze, fresh cold coconut water, leis, sand, turquoise waters in my life always.

That's what she said

posted by Melissa
I think I am still delirious.  From the air travel, wine at high altitudes, and the amount of information I attempted to memorize in the past two days.

The Jersey Shore

I flew my kids to the east coast on a Wednesday night red eye (read: 3 hours of sleep) last week and arrived at the Jersey shore for some fun in the sun.  It was a great weekend of family, lots of family I had not seen in years.  And we even met a distant relative that shared my father's penchant for family history.  Don drove down from near New York City to share some photos and stories of what he knows of the Terry family history.  I was surprisingly entertained by it; history typically bores me.

We also spent an evening on the boardwalk.  Riding roller coasters and other daring rides.  Eating ice cream.  Drinking lemonade.  Whining when the night had to end.

I love the beach and the sun.  It leaves me wondering why we moved to Seattle, land of the dreary.  Where summer is but a flicker in your memory, like when someone turns the light on in the middle of the night.  You squint from the light, startled, and when you wake up you think maybe it was a dream.  But there was plenty of sun in Jersey, and I soaked as much of it in as I could.

One day I was pacing on the sunny beach, poetry book in hand, memorizing the Kipling poem, "If."  (Which I have accomplished! although the last stanza is a bit evasive)  A lone kid's shoe on the sand caught my eye.  I recognized it because we walked to the beach behind the kid that was wearing the black Croc flip flops just like the one I spied on the sand.  I feel like people must think I am such a stalker, because I notice so many details like that.  I spend a lot of time watching and observing people.

I walked over to the family, and pretended I didn't know if it was theirs or not.
"Is this yours?" I asked the kid.  He didn't speak to me, but his eyes said yes.
The Mom overheard and  thanked me.  Then she asked me what I was reading.  I told her and she asked a few more questions, and before I knew it, I was telling her all about the blog.  As I walked off, guess what she said?

"Well, good luck with that!"

"That is the name of my blog!" I told her, a little too excitedly, because I kinda swallowed some saliva and my voice sounded funny like there was an air bubble in my throat.  And I almost choked.

"What?" She said, puzzled and perhaps concerned.

Then I gave one of those fake laughs and told her again that it was the name of my blog.  And quickly walked away.  Human interaction can be so odd, or maybe I just over think it all.

Now I am back home in Seattle.  Without my kids.  I call myself a person that doesn't miss people, but you know what?  I do miss them.  A lot.  They are staying on the east coast for a few weeks of grandparent time.  I know they'll have fun, and so will we.  So, I stay grounded in that thought.

Back to Seattle = back to school.  I struggled through one test this morning after minimal sleep, and am working on studying for the next one this evening.  I know it is the first of the month, so I am also preparing for the reading of my poem.  The one I am going to read ON THE BUS!  I can't believe it.  I think I might for real choke and die.  I can't believe I agreed to this.

We are hoping to get the page all changed up for hiking/backpacking (yes, another think I can't believe I thought was a good idea) month in the next couple days...stay tuned.

-Melissa