Toby has been practising for the Bodine Family Band. His specialty is the sliding whistle, and to fit his personality he plays while running around the room. Never a slow moment for our boy!
Friday, July 31, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
The Story of Stuff
While in Texas reconnecting with old friends this weekend, we noticed some trash on the ground. I picked it up saying that I didn't want to harm the earth. Matt nonchalantly declared, "I'm for littering." I looked at him surprised. Being one of my incredibly eco-conscious friends, I figured he must be joking.
"It's going into the earth anyway," he explained. "But if it's here, at least we see it."
Interesting concept. If we had to live among our trash would we produce less?
I just watched a really interesting video clip called the Story of Stuff. A little heavy-handed, but it included some eye-opening facts. I recommend watching it.
"It's going into the earth anyway," he explained. "But if it's here, at least we see it."
Interesting concept. If we had to live among our trash would we produce less?
I just watched a really interesting video clip called the Story of Stuff. A little heavy-handed, but it included some eye-opening facts. I recommend watching it.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
2009 Catch Your Breath 5K
This weekend was the annual Catch Your Breath Womens' 5K and 10K fest on Montrose Harbor, and I ran the 5K with 1100 other women from the Chicago area. Even though I only finished 6 seconds faster than my last time, it was still a personal best! The day was absolutely gorgeous for running-- in the 60s, sunny, a little wind. Because the race was so early in the day (due to the unpredictable weather) the lake was still glassy and calm. If you run slow enough to look around (which I do), it's really beautiful.
The backstory, however, is a little less polished. A series of interesting events led up to the race..
1. I took the plunge and invested in real running shoes. I got fitted at the running store by the professionals who had me running around the store and up and down the block to assess my gait and fit. All went smoothly until my sales associate suggested that I also take the time to be fitted for a sports bra. Apparently after shoes, that is the second most-important piece of running equipment for women, and it is imperative to get the right fit. I said sure and then followed the woman around the store as she explained bra types and loaded up on different models for me to try on.
She waited outside the dressing room, so she could examine how each bra fit. After rejecting the first one--too big, I tried on the next. 3/4 of the way in I realized that this bra was too small. No need to put it all the way on, but when I tried to pull it off, it had practically adhered to my skin. I twisted and contorted into all sorts of directions trying to get a good hold on this bra that had glued itself to me and I COULD NOT get it off! The woman called out, "did you get another one on?"
I laughed sheepishly, "well.. yes, but now I can't get it off.."
"Oh!" she said.
I was half cracking up alone in the dressing room and half starting to hyperventilate about not being able to get this sports bra off. I tugged and tugged, but my skin was a little sticky from the store being warm and my exertion from trying to extract myself.
"Um, if I can't get it off, I probably have to buy it, right?" I asked, now finding this totally hilarious.
"I'll give you a moment," she said politely, clearly indulging me.
I took a rest, and finally exerting all the shoulder and arm strength and flexibility I could muster, freed myself! Fresh air poured into my lungs and tears streamed down my cheeks. Just kidding, but I sure was happy to not have to cut the thing off!
I decided not to try on anymore.
2. On the eve of the race, my friend and I went to the salsa dance in the park event downtown. It was not going to be a late night, so we thought nothing of it. But after 3 hours of dancing in high heels, we limped back to the train station cursing ourselves all the way for torturing our feet and ankles the night before the race. Once home we sat on the edge of the tub eating banana bread and soaking our feet in warm water. We then decided the best course of action would be to sleep with our feet elevated.
3. Morning of the race, the feet had made somewhat of a recovery, and we sleepily got dressed for the race. I finally had some actual running attire, so I didn't look (in Laura's words) "like a hobo walking down the street who said, 'oh look! a race' and joined in." However just before walking out the door, I realized my snazzy running pants were on inside out.
Clearly I'm still just a hobo in fancy clothes.
The backstory, however, is a little less polished. A series of interesting events led up to the race..
1. I took the plunge and invested in real running shoes. I got fitted at the running store by the professionals who had me running around the store and up and down the block to assess my gait and fit. All went smoothly until my sales associate suggested that I also take the time to be fitted for a sports bra. Apparently after shoes, that is the second most-important piece of running equipment for women, and it is imperative to get the right fit. I said sure and then followed the woman around the store as she explained bra types and loaded up on different models for me to try on.
She waited outside the dressing room, so she could examine how each bra fit. After rejecting the first one--too big, I tried on the next. 3/4 of the way in I realized that this bra was too small. No need to put it all the way on, but when I tried to pull it off, it had practically adhered to my skin. I twisted and contorted into all sorts of directions trying to get a good hold on this bra that had glued itself to me and I COULD NOT get it off! The woman called out, "did you get another one on?"
I laughed sheepishly, "well.. yes, but now I can't get it off.."
"Oh!" she said.
I was half cracking up alone in the dressing room and half starting to hyperventilate about not being able to get this sports bra off. I tugged and tugged, but my skin was a little sticky from the store being warm and my exertion from trying to extract myself.
"Um, if I can't get it off, I probably have to buy it, right?" I asked, now finding this totally hilarious.
"I'll give you a moment," she said politely, clearly indulging me.
I took a rest, and finally exerting all the shoulder and arm strength and flexibility I could muster, freed myself! Fresh air poured into my lungs and tears streamed down my cheeks. Just kidding, but I sure was happy to not have to cut the thing off!
I decided not to try on anymore.
2. On the eve of the race, my friend and I went to the salsa dance in the park event downtown. It was not going to be a late night, so we thought nothing of it. But after 3 hours of dancing in high heels, we limped back to the train station cursing ourselves all the way for torturing our feet and ankles the night before the race. Once home we sat on the edge of the tub eating banana bread and soaking our feet in warm water. We then decided the best course of action would be to sleep with our feet elevated.
3. Morning of the race, the feet had made somewhat of a recovery, and we sleepily got dressed for the race. I finally had some actual running attire, so I didn't look (in Laura's words) "like a hobo walking down the street who said, 'oh look! a race' and joined in." However just before walking out the door, I realized my snazzy running pants were on inside out.
Clearly I'm still just a hobo in fancy clothes.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Tango
For those of you who watch Dancing With the Stars or So You Think You Can Dance, this is not that! This is social tango. The kind where someone comes up to you and says, "Would you like to dance?" and you say, "okay"--
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
An Elemental Day
I had to have a little distance before blogging about this, that's why it's about 2-3 weeks delayed.
One Friday afternoon with plans to go to the Botanic Garden to smell the roses, I left work at my usual time and boarded my usual train. Things were going smashingly until...
One stop after I boarded, just before pulling into the station, we heard an awful grating noise that seemed to come from underneath the train. Everyone began to shuffle uncomfortably. Then we heard the noise again, and subsequently the train powered down and we stopped moving. It became eerily silent, and then we heard the noise again. People were really getting restless now, and suddenly a passenger sitting in a window seat called out, "the train's on fire!"
There was a moment where we, the passengers, seemed to collectively hesitate between panic and waiting calmly for instruction from the CTA Authority over the loudspeaker. None came, and instantly, someone pulled the emergency door release. We were almost all the way into the station, so all the cars but the last were able to step out onto the platform. I think the last car (where the sparks/flames were coming from) had to file into the next car to get out. There was a certain amount of chaos as people scrambled out the doors and ran down the smokey platform. Still, there was no direction or announcement from the CTA. It was unclear whether we were supposed to run as far away as possible because the train might explode, or if we were just supposed to sit tight and wait to be told what to do.
Luckily no one was hurt, and the flames only appeared while the grating noise was happening. The firemen walked in and out of the scene in a flash, and the rest of us waited in puzzlement without a word (in the entire 30 minutes that I waited) from the CTA about what was going on or that northbound trains were delayed, etc. I placed a few harried phone calls to my fellow Botanic Garden-bound friends relaying the info that I would miss my connecting train, etc, and we came up with a new plan of escape.
Later that evening, after our train dropped us a mile's walk from the Garden, all was peace and love as we smothered ourselves in roses of countless varieties and colors. They were beautiful even as stormy skies threatened overhead. As we ventured deeper and deeper into the garden, we began to hear the distant rumble of thunder. Then slowly the sky began to flash with lightning. When the drops started falling we contented ourselves with peering at the bonsai collection from under our umbrellas. But then our umbrellas began to fail us. The rain was too strong! We ducked inside a building with connecting greenhouses to wait it out.
And we waited. And waited... And waited. Then we began to wonder if this wasn't the second great flood that God was sending to wipe out all but Noah and his crew. We emerged from the building under a tent and watched amazed as the rain fell so hard and so fast that we could neither hear ourselves talk (unless we were singing operatic arias ;) ) nor see more than 10 feet beyond the edge of the tent.
It was getting late, and the moment the rain lightened a little we dashed down the path to the Visitors' Center knowing that the Garden closes at sunset, and no one knew we were still inside. Thankfully the visitors' center was still opened and we picked up a train schedule. Unfortunately we still had a mile back up the hill to the train station. Taxis were delayed because of the stormy weather, so we had no choice but to walk. We wandered back down the pedestrian trail to the edge of the garden-- a good 10-15 minute walk--, only to discover, to our dismay, that the gate was locked! We edged along the fence (through the hedge, I might add) trying to find a hole in the border where we could escape, but no luck! We were locked in! With too little time to go back to the visitors' center if we wanted to make the train to Chicago, we had no choice. We had to climb.
And climb we did--over a wet, 8-ft, chainlink fence. I was the first one over, while one friend held my purse and umbrella and the other worried below. When I got to the very top, I became momentarily entangled in a snarl of low-lying limbs, and I was laughing so hard that I was sure I'd fall to my death. However, one by one we made it over and began our trek up the hill. Normally, up the hill would be no problem at all, but on a day like that with the enormous amount of rain that fell in the span of an hour or two, the sidewalk was an actual, ankle-deep river. We were absolutely sopping wet.
Surely, once we reached the top of the hill we would get some reprieve from the rushing water cascading over our feet. Not so. At the top, the water covered not only the sidewalk, but the entire road and beyond. Cars were barreling through hoping to avoid stalling in the middle, and each time they sent waves lapping at our shins. There was no way to go around it, so we waded in. The water got deeper and deeper until it was up to our knees! A boy and his dad were playing in their driveway, and the boy was waist-deep! I thought of alligators and water snakes, and drudged through as quick as I could.
We made it onto the train, and shivered all the way home in the air-conditioning. Finally home, I stripped off the wet clothes and jumped into bed. I don't think I moved until morning.
An eventful day, if I may. I think my shoes will never be the same.
One Friday afternoon with plans to go to the Botanic Garden to smell the roses, I left work at my usual time and boarded my usual train. Things were going smashingly until...
One stop after I boarded, just before pulling into the station, we heard an awful grating noise that seemed to come from underneath the train. Everyone began to shuffle uncomfortably. Then we heard the noise again, and subsequently the train powered down and we stopped moving. It became eerily silent, and then we heard the noise again. People were really getting restless now, and suddenly a passenger sitting in a window seat called out, "the train's on fire!"
There was a moment where we, the passengers, seemed to collectively hesitate between panic and waiting calmly for instruction from the CTA Authority over the loudspeaker. None came, and instantly, someone pulled the emergency door release. We were almost all the way into the station, so all the cars but the last were able to step out onto the platform. I think the last car (where the sparks/flames were coming from) had to file into the next car to get out. There was a certain amount of chaos as people scrambled out the doors and ran down the smokey platform. Still, there was no direction or announcement from the CTA. It was unclear whether we were supposed to run as far away as possible because the train might explode, or if we were just supposed to sit tight and wait to be told what to do.
Luckily no one was hurt, and the flames only appeared while the grating noise was happening. The firemen walked in and out of the scene in a flash, and the rest of us waited in puzzlement without a word (in the entire 30 minutes that I waited) from the CTA about what was going on or that northbound trains were delayed, etc. I placed a few harried phone calls to my fellow Botanic Garden-bound friends relaying the info that I would miss my connecting train, etc, and we came up with a new plan of escape.
Later that evening, after our train dropped us a mile's walk from the Garden, all was peace and love as we smothered ourselves in roses of countless varieties and colors. They were beautiful even as stormy skies threatened overhead. As we ventured deeper and deeper into the garden, we began to hear the distant rumble of thunder. Then slowly the sky began to flash with lightning. When the drops started falling we contented ourselves with peering at the bonsai collection from under our umbrellas. But then our umbrellas began to fail us. The rain was too strong! We ducked inside a building with connecting greenhouses to wait it out.
And we waited. And waited... And waited. Then we began to wonder if this wasn't the second great flood that God was sending to wipe out all but Noah and his crew. We emerged from the building under a tent and watched amazed as the rain fell so hard and so fast that we could neither hear ourselves talk (unless we were singing operatic arias ;) ) nor see more than 10 feet beyond the edge of the tent.
It was getting late, and the moment the rain lightened a little we dashed down the path to the Visitors' Center knowing that the Garden closes at sunset, and no one knew we were still inside. Thankfully the visitors' center was still opened and we picked up a train schedule. Unfortunately we still had a mile back up the hill to the train station. Taxis were delayed because of the stormy weather, so we had no choice but to walk. We wandered back down the pedestrian trail to the edge of the garden-- a good 10-15 minute walk--, only to discover, to our dismay, that the gate was locked! We edged along the fence (through the hedge, I might add) trying to find a hole in the border where we could escape, but no luck! We were locked in! With too little time to go back to the visitors' center if we wanted to make the train to Chicago, we had no choice. We had to climb.
And climb we did--over a wet, 8-ft, chainlink fence. I was the first one over, while one friend held my purse and umbrella and the other worried below. When I got to the very top, I became momentarily entangled in a snarl of low-lying limbs, and I was laughing so hard that I was sure I'd fall to my death. However, one by one we made it over and began our trek up the hill. Normally, up the hill would be no problem at all, but on a day like that with the enormous amount of rain that fell in the span of an hour or two, the sidewalk was an actual, ankle-deep river. We were absolutely sopping wet.
Surely, once we reached the top of the hill we would get some reprieve from the rushing water cascading over our feet. Not so. At the top, the water covered not only the sidewalk, but the entire road and beyond. Cars were barreling through hoping to avoid stalling in the middle, and each time they sent waves lapping at our shins. There was no way to go around it, so we waded in. The water got deeper and deeper until it was up to our knees! A boy and his dad were playing in their driveway, and the boy was waist-deep! I thought of alligators and water snakes, and drudged through as quick as I could.
We made it onto the train, and shivered all the way home in the air-conditioning. Finally home, I stripped off the wet clothes and jumped into bed. I don't think I moved until morning.
An eventful day, if I may. I think my shoes will never be the same.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Canoe Safety 101
Things Laura and I learned on today's canoe trip down the Fox River. Or better put, common sense things that we wish we'd remembered before launching:- tie everything to the boat
- always wear your lifejacket (even on a class 1 river, even if you look silly, even if you're hot, even if you'll get tan lines)
- study a map before launching. (there might be valuable notes like: rapids--stay left.)
- try not to carry things like wallets and car keys, but if it's unavoidable, refer back to #1
- stay together. (especially if you have inexperienced canoers in your fleet)
- pack extra lunch for friends who might have forgotten #1
- if it looks like you might die, let go of the boat
- heavily apply sunscreen to the thighs
We survived, despite our initial negligence of the aforementioned tips. There was a moment when we had to fight to emerge from the river -- boatless, paddleless, lifejacketless, lunchless, soggy, pumping adrenaline, and thankful to be breathing air and in one piece. We have since arrived home, showered, lathered up the aloe, and are both silently contemplating our next hard core adventurous undertaking. Perhaps power-knitting or a chili cookoff...
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
A Day's Work
I have officially completed my first student piano recital! Actually make that two. Since joining up with a team of other music teachers and incorporating our very own music studio, we are now shaping the musical talents of 50 some children! 41 children performed on this Spring recital, so we ended up splitting the performers over 2 days.
Last night and tonight were the first recital experiences for not only me, but all of my students as well. Every single one of them performed. Even the ones who initially told either me or their moms that they didn't want to. I, however, didn't really give them the option. I made it clear to all the parents that I wouldn't force anyone, but I would proceed in their lessons coaching and preparing them to perform. I never asked anyone if they "wanted" to perform, I just assumed they would.
Two students in particular were very reluctant. Zoe's school music teacher called me after the school's Musical Talent Day to explain how Zoe had lost it and broke down sobbing after only two of her peers had performed because she was so nervous. She was only able to come back in after all the other students had left. I thought of all the inspiring and teacher-ey things I could and delivered a pep-talk fit for a king. Paige flat out refused to play from the moment she walked in the door of the church this evening. But we compromised. I agreed to give her introduction speech for her (hello, I'm XX and I will play XX by XX.), and she agreed to play as long as she didn't have to bow. Fine.
Both walked right up to the piano when it was their turn and nailed it! I was so proud! Yes, I was the soccer mom who couldn't help but give standing ovations to all her kids! Ok, I didn't really give standing ovations, but my pride was pretty much oozing over the pew and into the aisle. The next kid had to step over it as they walked up to the piano.
My youngest student bombed. And it was only later that I realized it was because he put his two pages of music up in the wrong order! Thankfully we figured it out and gave him an encore performance at the end.
We adjourned to much applause and a celebratory reception where the post-bedtime kids gobbled up all the sugar they could get their hands on and the parents chatted away while the wine flowed freely. Just before they left, Rylie came up to me. "Miss Caitlyn," she said, "one of the things I want to be when I grow up is a piano teacher."
I love my job!
Last night and tonight were the first recital experiences for not only me, but all of my students as well. Every single one of them performed. Even the ones who initially told either me or their moms that they didn't want to. I, however, didn't really give them the option. I made it clear to all the parents that I wouldn't force anyone, but I would proceed in their lessons coaching and preparing them to perform. I never asked anyone if they "wanted" to perform, I just assumed they would.
Two students in particular were very reluctant. Zoe's school music teacher called me after the school's Musical Talent Day to explain how Zoe had lost it and broke down sobbing after only two of her peers had performed because she was so nervous. She was only able to come back in after all the other students had left. I thought of all the inspiring and teacher-ey things I could and delivered a pep-talk fit for a king. Paige flat out refused to play from the moment she walked in the door of the church this evening. But we compromised. I agreed to give her introduction speech for her (hello, I'm XX and I will play XX by XX.), and she agreed to play as long as she didn't have to bow. Fine.
Both walked right up to the piano when it was their turn and nailed it! I was so proud! Yes, I was the soccer mom who couldn't help but give standing ovations to all her kids! Ok, I didn't really give standing ovations, but my pride was pretty much oozing over the pew and into the aisle. The next kid had to step over it as they walked up to the piano.
My youngest student bombed. And it was only later that I realized it was because he put his two pages of music up in the wrong order! Thankfully we figured it out and gave him an encore performance at the end.
We adjourned to much applause and a celebratory reception where the post-bedtime kids gobbled up all the sugar they could get their hands on and the parents chatted away while the wine flowed freely. Just before they left, Rylie came up to me. "Miss Caitlyn," she said, "one of the things I want to be when I grow up is a piano teacher."
I love my job!
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Grandma Bodine goes airborne
On the memorable wedding day of Karen and Michael Vale, the spirit of adventure was soaring high. Grandma Bodine said she'd be willing to ride up on a parasail if someone could make the arrangements. Son Blue jumped at the challenge and without much chance to have a second thought, we were whisked away to pierside where a boat was waiting. The photos give proof to the feat of sailing high over Key Largo at age 
96! Not quite the hot air balloon ride she always wanted, but a perfect substitute.
96! Not quite the hot air balloon ride she always wanted, but a perfect substitute. Friday, June 12, 2009
Tango Revisited
I select my wardrobe for my tango class based on my mood. Sometimes I wear jeans, sometimes I wear slacks. Yesterday I wore my red gypsy skirt and decorated myself with lots of bangles and baubles. It was one of those days.
My gold bracelets jangled as my arm slid across my partner's shoulders. My skirt swirled around my legs as my foot skated across the floor, languidly brushing one ankle against the other. But before I could lose myself in the magic of the moment, I lifted my foot and pointed my toe in preparation for crossing my ankles decoratively.
At that moment, the heel of my saucy shoe snagged on one of the ruffles of my delicious gypsy skirt, and when I took that fatal step... my skirt followed suit. Let's just say that a few other dancers got an eyeful of a little more than they bargained for.
The story of my life continues..
My gold bracelets jangled as my arm slid across my partner's shoulders. My skirt swirled around my legs as my foot skated across the floor, languidly brushing one ankle against the other. But before I could lose myself in the magic of the moment, I lifted my foot and pointed my toe in preparation for crossing my ankles decoratively.
At that moment, the heel of my saucy shoe snagged on one of the ruffles of my delicious gypsy skirt, and when I took that fatal step... my skirt followed suit. Let's just say that a few other dancers got an eyeful of a little more than they bargained for.
The story of my life continues..
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Songbirds
Of all the songbirds that could perch on my windowsill to sing at dawn each day, I got stuck with a pesky little tone-deaf one who belches out his morning greeting. And so if Sleeping Beauty's melodious musings are true--
"I wonder..
I wonder if each little bird has a someone
to sing to,
sweet things to,
a gay little love melody.."
--I got screwed.
"I wonder..
I wonder if each little bird has a someone
to sing to,
sweet things to,
a gay little love melody.."
--I got screwed.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Sillyness
I came out of the shower and found Sabbath IN Elinore's animal barn. In case she was worried about her toys getting lonely, Sabbath is keeping them company. I snapped this photo in between lazy blinks, she just may have fallen asleep in there. 
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Liberty, Annecy, and Mont Blanc
In the process of picking new hikes for each day we decided to visit Col des Glieres, a high valley between two ridges a little southwest of La Clusaz. The ride up to the plateau was a bit hair raising, but our nerves are steeling up now that we've been on the road here for a while. This particular area was the site of an historical parachute drop in 1944 during WWII of weapons and supplies to support the formation of the French Resistance effort. The Savoie region was ideal for this cause because of the terrain. The Vichy and Nazi response was ferocious, with artillery and bombardment taking a high toll in lives and habitation. We sat and ate lunch on a ridge across from the monument erected in honor of the dead.
We also visited Annecy on Market Day and discovered a beautiful area with narrow winding streets crossing over several canals leading to the large adjacent lake. The weather was exquisite as families socialized in the gardens by the lake and by the vendors sellings fruits, cheeses, meats, and vegetables. It was a glorious day, ending with a lunch of crepes.
Saturday May 23 we decided to make a go for Chamonix anf the telesphere ride up over the flank of Mont Blanc. We had been watching the weather and figured this might be our best chance to get clear air around this highest peak in Europe. We weren't disappointed after getting up early to arrive in time for the first lift of the day to the top. We were accompanied by a crowd of seasoned skiers and technical climbers who quickly scattered out into the "White Valley" adjacent to Mont Blanc to their various objectives of the day. We watched as they quickly became small specks making their way across the glacial ice and snow. The weather was perfect and the scenery spectacular.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Ambience de Savoie au Printemps
So we woke up this morning and the air was clear and the sun was shining and there were no clouds. We decided that we would make a quick run back up to Col des Aravis to see if Mont Blanc was clear from what appears to be ever present clouds. Much to our surprise and delight Mont Blanc stood majestic and vivid in the morning sun and we got our pictures, and fueled our anticipation for riding the telecabin over to Italy with spectacular views next week. But, we couldn't linger, because, it was Wednesday and the marche in le Grand Bornand was in full swing, and we couldn't miss out on that. We bought cheese and sausage and fresh vegetables, des olives, and du vin for dinner and then proceeded to a wonderful hike up to a local peak, Tete du Danay, which has a 360 degree view around our entire area.
We've been enjoying the local wines (apremont and des autres) and cheeses, also locally made and delightful. Many thanks to Lawrence Bland for the generous champagne contribution to our anniversery on Tuesday!
This is a multidimensional good time, with exercise, outstanding food, scenery to make one sigh, and good company - we're doing our best to take it all in.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Milles Bornes en France
We continue to have some new experiences in and around La Clusaz. We had a very pleasant and traditonal regional dinner last night at the Savoie Restaurant at Hotel Airelles - Raclette and Fondue. We broiled our own raclette at the table and managed the cheese fondue expertly without setting the table on fire. Interesting, the last of the fondue was taken after mixing in a raw egg and a shot of kirsch, allowing every last bit to be scooped up. Tuesday morning brought back glorious sunshine in celebration of John and Linda's 30th anniversary. As we sat having some coffee, muesli, and yoghurt, we began to hear a cacaphony of bells - similar to what we heard from the cows in meadows while hiking, but louder, with more tones, and in our immediate vicinity!
We rushed to the deck overlooking Route des Confins, and there was a herd of dairy 
cows wearing ceremonial bells with broad embroidered collars, each with a distinct insignia. They were heading to the high meadow around Lac des Confins, perhaps as a symbolic heralding of spring. We watched with broad grins as the herders flicked those who slowed, keeping the musical parade moving upward. To be sure, the meadows, paths and roadsides are surging with flowers sprouting everywhere. Crocuses are popping up everywhere, with violets, elder flowered orchids, marsh marigolds, and many others unidentified. And this is clearly just the beginning, with lupine, edelweiss, and others yet to follow over the next few weeks. We are truly here at a magical time - between tourist seasons of winter sports and summer pleasures, but just at the time when the snow melts away to release nature's abundance.
cows wearing ceremonial bells with broad embroidered collars, each with a distinct insignia. They were heading to the high meadow around Lac des Confins, perhaps as a symbolic heralding of spring. We watched with broad grins as the herders flicked those who slowed, keeping the musical parade moving upward. To be sure, the meadows, paths and roadsides are surging with flowers sprouting everywhere. Crocuses are popping up everywhere, with violets, elder flowered orchids, marsh marigolds, and many others unidentified. And this is clearly just the beginning, with lupine, edelweiss, and others yet to follow over the next few weeks. We are truly here at a magical time - between tourist seasons of winter sports and summer pleasures, but just at the time when the snow melts away to release nature's abundance.Every morning's first breath brings another wave of exuberance.
We drove to Col des Aravis and hiked up to an overlook to view Giettaz in the precipitous valley below and a cloud shrouded Mont Blanc in the distance. Mont Blanc, the highest peak in Europe lie near the conjunction of Italy, France, and Switzerland and will be the object of a visit by us next week, when all telesphere lifts will be operating to take us from Chamonix up and over the nearby ridge to Italy. We hear it is a magnificant view and ride.
Monday, May 18, 2009
City Rites of Passage
I get to tick another city-living hazard off my list today. I've previously:
-Been hit by a car while crossing the street
-Had my car broken into
-Received more parking tickets than I care to recount
-Had a hit and run to my parked car at some point during the night.
Am I forgetting anything?
One more is due: The Apartment Break-In.
Yes, it has happened, though our unit was spared. We live in a 3-flat, meaning there are only 3 units in the building, each one taking a floor. We live on the 3rd floor and are the only tenants. The 85-year old owners live on the first floor with their son, and their daughter and son-in-law live on the second. Around 2 pm on Thursday last week Emily and I were sitting in the living room when we thought we heard a knock. Generally when our landlords come up for whatever reason they knock on the back door. We waited and heard it again, so I walked back and opened the door. Nobody there. I called out, nobody answered.
Later that evening the daughter from the 2nd floor came running upstairs to tell us that their apartment had been broken into! The computer and jewelry had been taken and contents of drawers had been strewn across the room. We assume that the knocking we heard was the burgler knocking on the front door of the 2nd floor apartment to make sure they weren't home. The unsettling part was knowing that Emily and I, and the 85-year old owners on the first floor had been home the whole time.
Thankfully nobody was hurt. We still feel safe though we are being more vigilant about keeping the doors locked.
On another note, I had my first run-in of the season with that big, scary raccoon in our backyard again. I think we are equally nervous about each other except that he is the size of a coyote and has a cool bandit-style headband. All I have is a voice that quavers when I say, "go away!" and cloth purse to protect me.
-Been hit by a car while crossing the street
-Had my car broken into
-Received more parking tickets than I care to recount
-Had a hit and run to my parked car at some point during the night.
Am I forgetting anything?
One more is due: The Apartment Break-In.
Yes, it has happened, though our unit was spared. We live in a 3-flat, meaning there are only 3 units in the building, each one taking a floor. We live on the 3rd floor and are the only tenants. The 85-year old owners live on the first floor with their son, and their daughter and son-in-law live on the second. Around 2 pm on Thursday last week Emily and I were sitting in the living room when we thought we heard a knock. Generally when our landlords come up for whatever reason they knock on the back door. We waited and heard it again, so I walked back and opened the door. Nobody there. I called out, nobody answered.
Later that evening the daughter from the 2nd floor came running upstairs to tell us that their apartment had been broken into! The computer and jewelry had been taken and contents of drawers had been strewn across the room. We assume that the knocking we heard was the burgler knocking on the front door of the 2nd floor apartment to make sure they weren't home. The unsettling part was knowing that Emily and I, and the 85-year old owners on the first floor had been home the whole time.
Thankfully nobody was hurt. We still feel safe though we are being more vigilant about keeping the doors locked.
On another note, I had my first run-in of the season with that big, scary raccoon in our backyard again. I think we are equally nervous about each other except that he is the size of a coyote and has a cool bandit-style headband. All I have is a voice that quavers when I say, "go away!" and cloth purse to protect me.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Goat Cheese Supreme
...and this is for Caitlyn and Laura, luscious goat cheese, though we don't expect to bring any home to them. Temperatures were in the 70's and just about perfect for walking in the mountains.
Hiking La Clusaz
The day was sunny and beautiful, so after a good night's rest and a hearty breakfast of muesli and yoghurt, we headed out for a casual walk up near Lac des Confins, east of the chalet. We had cheese, pickles, apples, and a baguette for lunch and found a wonderful spot overlooking a long valley. Dairy cows and goats were busy working their way across the meadows, to create the miracle of fresh milk and cheese. On the way back we stopped by the Chrevrerie to buy some fresh made goat cheese!
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Arrived In La Clusaz
After a long night and day of flights and a harrowing drive up into the alps with impatient locals nipping at our heels, we have arrived at La Clusaz and the chalet. We've enclosed a first couple of pictures of the view across the valley, with lingering snow still blanketing the heights. Wysteria, lilacs, and diverse flowers reign supreme along the lush green meadows. The air is crisp and clear, with a warm sun providing a nice welcome. 
More to come.....
More to come.....Wednesday, May 13, 2009
French Alps 2009
We've begun our journey with stage 1 being a stop in Huntington to pick up the Pitficks and double check our packing to make sure we have everything. Friday afternoon we'll depart for Geneva, Switzerland via Madrid, to arrive Saturday afternoon. Here we are having dinner on Wed 5/13/09 remembering old times and anticipating the new.
Saturday, May 02, 2009
Life Lessons in Tupperware
It was a weeknight, I was cleaning up the kitchen after eating dinner. I went into the pantry in search of a tupperware container. After several attempts...
Caitlyn (shouting to make sure that roommate on the other end of the apartment hears): This is ridiculous! None of our tupperware matches! What happened?!
Emily scurries into the kitchen in her all-business way, gets on her hands and knees and starts pulling out all the tupperware piece by piece to match it up.
I go about my business in the kitchen and periodically glance over to see the "matched" pile getting bigger and bigger. I scowl to myself, but take a few breaths so I can be calm and humbled.
Emily (looks at me with an ironic twinkle in her eye): I sure hope I'm not in THAT pile. She indicates the group of 4-5 unmatched pieces. But I think I am.
I laugh, and survey the scene. A mountain of matched tupper and a few, a small few, lonely pieces with no match.
Caitlyn: I guess I was too hasty in my accusation that there weren't any that matched. But I just kept picking the wrong ones!
And then I hit myself in the forehead, because OH GOD! was that ever a metaphor for my life.
Caitlyn (shouting to make sure that roommate on the other end of the apartment hears): This is ridiculous! None of our tupperware matches! What happened?!
Emily scurries into the kitchen in her all-business way, gets on her hands and knees and starts pulling out all the tupperware piece by piece to match it up.
I go about my business in the kitchen and periodically glance over to see the "matched" pile getting bigger and bigger. I scowl to myself, but take a few breaths so I can be calm and humbled.
Emily (looks at me with an ironic twinkle in her eye): I sure hope I'm not in THAT pile. She indicates the group of 4-5 unmatched pieces. But I think I am.
I laugh, and survey the scene. A mountain of matched tupper and a few, a small few, lonely pieces with no match.
Caitlyn: I guess I was too hasty in my accusation that there weren't any that matched. But I just kept picking the wrong ones!
And then I hit myself in the forehead, because OH GOD! was that ever a metaphor for my life.
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