I'm keen on you, Keen

Another Portland moment. I just had to share.

Yesterday, sun still shining in our totally uncharacteristic spring, Jeff took Carmen and Charlie to the annual Lahti summer Keen sandal shopping spree. Carmen was thrilled to have bright purple Keens, all her own. No hand me downs this year. Charlie still fits in his from last year. . . does this kid ever grow? Jeff handed off the Littles (Carmen & Charlie) so we could go pick up the Big (Cooper). One look at Carmen's purple clad feet and Coop shouted in his put-off-seven-year-old voice,

"What? No fair! She got new Keens?"

To which I replied, "Let's go. We can go get yours today too."

We crossed the street to load into the minivan and this is what we saw.

There was a scruffy looking guy loading kids into the Keen van. We went to check it out. I told Cooper we should just get on the Keen bus and maybe it would take us to get new shoes. In the midst of our laughing, the scruffy dude looked down at our feet. I had on my red Keens. Charlie had on his blue Keens. Carmen had on her shiny new purple Keens. And Coop had on his gym shoes. The scruffy guy exclaimed "Wow, its a Keen family moment." We all laughed and I told him we were on our way to get some for Cooper. He introduced himself as "Curly" (All I could think was "where are Mo and Larry", I know, I am so hilarious). So Curly says,

"Where are you going to get your Keens?"

"REI. They're having a sale"

"Well, maybe I can help you save a couple bucks." He said, in a conspiratorial voice.

I was intrigued. Who is this Curly dude, with curly black locks cruising around in a Keen bus? He rifled around in the front of the bus and handed me a card.

"Are you the Keen guy?" I asked, not entirely sure what that meant.

"I'm the Keen guy." He laughed.

The card I held said one FREE pair of shoes. My eyes widened.

"Take it to the Keen Garage. You know where that is, right?"

"Yeah," I say. "Right by REI."

I shook his hand and off he went in the yellow Keen bus, chock full of kids.

"Thank you, Keen guy. Curly. Thank you!"

So off we go. We briefly stopped to get some frozen yogurt with a million toppings (gotta take advantage of summer weather while its here, right?) and then we wound our way through the Pearl to find the Keen Garage.

Ten minutes later we walked out with a brand spankin' new pair of super cool black & green Keens for Cooper. I love Portland.

PS. I googled "Curly & Keen" and found that the CEO and President of Keen is named James Curleigh. Keen seems like a fantastic company, based here in Portland. Check out their blog.

Mother's Day

Dear Cooper, Carmen & Charlie (in light of recent Mother’s Day festivities)

This past weekend was one of the best I can remember. Not only was the sun shining, driving my self-diagnosed seasonal affective disorder underground, but I spent the whole entire weekend with you three little monkeys. I can’t say that I always want to spend a whole weekend with you. Many weekends I crave escape in the form of date night, girl’s night out or even work. Not so this glorious Mother’s Day.  It was so great I want to tell you about it just in case you forget in the years to come how much I love being your Mommy.

We started our joint adventure on Friday right after school. But did you know that before we picked you up from school, Daddy & I sneaked away for a walk through the west hills. We went up the trail and over to the Zoo then walked through the rose garden at Washington Park and wound down to a coffee shop and then back up the hill to home. We walked for 2 hours and talked about all kinds of things. But we both agreed that we have the best kids ever.

Since Dad had to work, I whisked you three away with your friends Phoebe and Greta for a quick overnight in Parkdale. The weather was perfect! You rode your bikes and scooters. You cruised three deep on the long board skateboard down the blacktop driveway. You colored with chalk all over the sidewalk and the basketball court. You ate fruit and cheese and crackers and then after dinner you had big bowls of ice cream. When it was bedtime, you curled up in your blankets and had a sleepover in the bunks. Of course Charlie had to be removed from the room since he was being a bit of a rascal. Charlie, Charlie. . . always a bit of a rascal. Good thing you are so cute. Meanwhile, the Mommies sipped a few drinks and talked about Mommy stuff. Perfect.

On Saturday, coffee in hand, I watched you slather syrup on your pancakes and run outside to play in the sun—pajamas still on. We hiked the trail to Tamanawa Falls, crossing bridges and finding treasures along the way. Remember how fun that hike was? You guys collected branches and made a dam in the river. You gathered bark with “secret writing” on it. You found snow in the midst of our sunny day! You ran from one awesome-cool-totally-perfect thing to the next. Your energy was contagious. You made me feel a little bit like I was a kid again. I love the way you guys do that. There were a few scraped knees and trips over roots and pokes by pointy sticks. But I always say, scraped knees are the sign of a good day. I think you might be starting to believe me.

We drove back to Portland after our hike. Dad was finishing up a long bike ride and so after you ran around our own back yard while I unpacked the cooler, we went to a post-bike-ride party. Dad was so excited to see us, and you guys played in the backyard that was so big Cooper thought it was a park. The air felt like summer vacation-hot and clear. I think we played even more once we got home that night.

And then Sunday arrived like a long awaited gift. For days you had been plotting and planning how to make my Mother’s Day so special.

“Don’t look in my backpack” Cooper said.

“Mommy, when can I give you your present?” Carmen said.

“Mommy, you are my Mommy” Charlie piped in.

So when Sunday arrived it felt a little bit like Christmas. This is the first year all of you kiddos were so excited to celebrate my day. We woke you up and got ready for the Run Like A Mother 5K. Even at 7:30am the air was warm and the sun was bright. We milled around with all the other families getting ready for our big race. Cooper & Carmen got t-shirts and numbers pinned to their chests. Charlie ate the free samples. We found our friends and the next thing I knew you were off and running with Dad.  And then I was off and running with the Moms. Have I mentioned that the sun was out, shining down on us like a gift from the rain gods who have dominated the skies for the last eight months!

 

When the run was over, the Mamas made our way back to your friend’s (Jack & Charlie) house. I was greeted with a mimosa and a brunch spread cooked by the Dads. Yummy. All you kids were running around, dressed up in costumes, playing with Legos and sneaking strawberries from the fruit tray! Perfect.

All I wanted to do in the afternoon was lie in the grass in the backyard and soak in the warm rays of the sun. Cooper spread a blanket out and even got me a pillow. We lounged in the sun, then the shade, for hours. We finished reading Cooper’s book, Redwall, and I cried at the end when Abbot Mortimer died. Cooper, you got mad and said, “Stop crying and finish reading!” I laughed and cried at the same time then.  Carmen, you were playing up in the bear cave and flitting about. You’d come sit with us for a few minutes and listen to the story, then run off to collect flowers and sticks and all the other wonderful things you collect and group and arrange. Charlie, my friend, you were conked out after such a busy day. You slept all the way until our guests came  for dinner.

Dad was out front clipping and trimming bushes. He disappeared to the grocery store for a while and then prepared an amazing dinner on the grill, flank steak and corn on the cob. Your friends Astrid and Teo came for dinner and while you five crazy gooses got naked and ran around the backyard, your parents watched you with giggles and wide-open mouths at your silliness. It was the perfect day. Absolutely perfect, perfect day. Did I mention the sunshine? The amazing food? The looks of total joy, fun, and love on all your faces? I hope you remember me on this day with a look of joy, fun and love on my face too. But just in case you don’t, read this and know it was the best Mother’s Day I’ve ever had. I am the luckiest Mama in the world. Thank you kid-a-loonies for giving me the best weekend ever.

Now go put your shoes on, brush your teeth and clean your rooms before I start yelling again.

Love,

Mama

Forty

Not a huge surprise to all my friends and family, I turned 40 a month ago. I gotta say, I've got some pretty amazing friends. Who else would follow me to the top of a mountain to watch me drink too much and still tell me I looked great? Its not the first time my friends have followed me to the top of a mountain and I surely hope it won't be the last. The big shin-dig was at Silcox Hut, a snow covered cozy cabin, about a mile or so straight up from the famous Timberline Lodge. The party was on Friday the 13th--I mean what the hell? What more could go wrong than me turning 40? Did I mention "The Shining" was filmed at Timberline Lodge? See what I mean about having the best friends in the world. They followed me to a snow covered hut in the middle of nowhere at the same place Jack Nicholson went on a killing spree.

 The day started with a bit of a shopping spree in Hood River. Sue & Sarah had flown in from Chicago a few days earlier. Somehow after 2 hours in Hood River we ended up leaving with a pair of snow shoes, an expensive dress, matching rings and a necklace to boot. I had planned on wearing snow boots and jeans. . . but the girls had other plans for me.

Snowshoeing followed.

After a great show hike through the woods we headed up to Timberline. The sky was blue, the mountain looked incredible and I was ready to get the party started. I hot tubbed and vodka tonicked for a bit while the hearty guests walked up to the hut. I happily took the Snow Cat. When we got to the top the view was incredible. What better place for a par-tay? Here is a quick slide show to highlight the ascent.

Here I am with my awesome hubby who asked me if I wanted to go see the new 21 Jump Street movie on my 40th birthday. Someone has to be the planner.

Here is the whole crew. I am amazed at this picture--everyone looks awesome. The mountain air must be good for the over the hill crowd.

We ooh-ed and ahhh-ed at the view and then most people hit the open bar. Yes, there was a bar tucked into that snow covered hut. And it got a lot of business throughout the night. Despite the frigid air and the fact that polar fleece was the reigning attire of the evening, I busted out the new dress and high heels. You're only 40 once, right? Hilarious.

 

The night was great. There was music from every year since 1972. I even busted out a little Thriller dancing. There were a few silly games (thanks Alicia) and some clever limericks (thanks Jen & Brett) When I finally crawled into my bunk I found it had been short sheeted by a few miscreants. I kicked and flailed then fell happily asleep. The next morning was stunning. The sun was shining and the snow was beautiful. We skied right out the door. Look at this day!

So thank you everyone, near and far, for the best birthday ever. So far forty is lookin' pretty damn good.

Three Minute Fiction

I just submitted a quick flash fiction story to the NPR Three Minute Fiction contest. There is still time to submit. March 25th is the deadline, so get writing! The rules are simple. Write a 600 word story that begins with the following sentence: She closed the book, placed it on the table, and finally, decided to walk through the door.

My writing group unanimously decided that it was a terrible first sentence to be stuck with, but we all joined in the fun and tortured ourselves over each word, whittling 700 words to 650 to 610 and then to 600. It is such a limited number of words to work with, but it was fun. Mine ultimately ended up at 595.

The woman in this photograph was in my head when I wrote about the mother in this story. I had seen her daughter in the clinic the day before and given her bad news. When I ran into the mother in the market I was struck by how much they looked alike. I knew right away who she must be. The story I wrote has nothing to do with the girl I saw or her mother, but I couldn't get them out of my mind.

I Thought I'd share the finished product with you here.

Leti

She closed the book, placed it on the table, and finally, decided to walk through the door. The patient’s name had been Leti. When Dr. Goodwin passed through the doorway into the quiet waiting room, she was greeted by the same eyes, staring at her with fear and hope, the way Leti had stared only 24 hours ago. Leti’s mother stood when she saw the white doctor. Dr. Goodwin took the woman’s pink-palmed hands in her own. They lowered themselves to the waiting room bench, scrubbed clean with bleach earlier that morning.

“Leti,” The woman said. “She no came home.”

For a moment Leti was present again, just in her name being said aloud. Dr. Goodwin closed her eyes and saw the handwriting on the patient ledger she had stared at before having the courage to face Leti’s mother. The loop of the cursive “L”, whimsical but confident, followed by a shaky “e-t-i” was etched in her memory.

Leti, a young woman—really a girl—had come to the outpost Haitian clinic in the late afternoon, the team of foreign doctors already gone for the day. Dr. Goodwin was counting inventory when she heard the knock. She cracked the rusted door enough to see the bright whites of scared, sunken eyes and let the girl in. The girl slumped on the bench, and pulled her knees to her chest. Dr. Goodwin gave her a bottle of clean drinking water, and opened the tattered ledger, pages damp with rural humidity. The thin, sweaty girl wrote her name in the book and handed it back.

“Leti?” Dr. Goodwin asked. As she spoke, a thick trail of blood seeped from between Leti’s thighs onto the bench. Dr. Goodwin lifted the spindly patient into the makeshift exam room and placed her flaccid body on the table. She found her portable ultra sound, flattened the sensor over Leti’s lower belly and watched a shadow jump on the screen. The shadow moved, a crown-rump length of 9 centimeters, 14 weeks. 

“How long have you been bleeding?” Dr. Goodwin asked.

“Maten an. When I gather morning eggs. Then I walk all day.” 

Leti’s voice was weak. She closed her eyes and her chest rose and fell as she took rapid breaths. Dr. Goodwin saw the pool of blood expand. She looked around for someone to help, but she was alone. Dr. Goodwin held Leti’s hand and watched as blood spilled onto the table and dripped over the edge. She knew there was nothing she could do. Leti slipped into unconsciousness. With one last convulsion, Leti’s malnourished body heaved and expelled the half-grown life. Both were pulseless.

Leti’s mother arrived the next afternoon.

 “She lost too much blood. Mwen regret sa,” said Dr. Goodwin softly. “I couldn’t do anything to make her better.” She paused. “Or the baby.”

“Bebe?”

Leti’s mother turned her face, all eyes and bones, toward Dr. Goodwin, then bowed her head; two lines of tears silently raced to the bottom of her mahogany chin. She gripped the damp pale hands, the last hands to touch her daughter.

“Thank you. For take care Leti.”

Leti’s mother gathered her sack, opened the metal door and walked down the stairs. Dr. Goodwin turned past the waiting room bench and sat on the exam room table. She picked up the ledger; it weighed heavily in her hands. She opened to the page with Leti’s name, ran her finger over the letters. She curled her knees into her chest and shook to the guttural melody of Leti’s mother’s sobs coming through the window.

A quick little Valentine ditty

A few images of my favorite parts of Valentine's Day.

Cooper's Mailbox. Before & After.

Carmen Valentine Cape. Open & Closed.

Charlie Hand Print.

Flowers from my sweetheart.

xo

I am a lucky girl today.