Thursday, November 19, 2009

Why I Love Blogs



Love is a misunderstood concept. Really, Marci? You "love" blogging as evidenced by your average 1.2 posts per quarter? No, really I do. I love to read blogs (ahem). And I love that the first thought in my head whenever something amuses me is "I really should blog about that." So here I am, amused and blogging--go figure.

Roland and I just returned a few days ago from a six day trip to San Francisco for a Spine conference. We had a lovely time, paying for all of two meals, forced death marches through the streets of the city (Just kidding, Roland. You know I loved walking/running 26 miles during the first 48 hours of our stay), touristing around, and generally taking it easy. But this trip was very nearly over before it began in the security line at the Seattle Airport.



You see, as I was scrambling to find a suitable carry-on bag, Roland was starting to get antsy. (Hard to imagine, I know. Apparently, he had several intended stops on our way to the airport). As I was starting to clean out Noah's retired rolling backpack for carry-on duties, Grandma Carolyn chimed in to say that she always uses the down time waiting to board an airplane to clean out purses and such. "What a great idea," I said as I closed the zipper without a second glance. So with my bags in hand, I rushed out the door faster than Roland could say "Are you ready yet???" and we're on our way.

I had just placed my bag on the conveyor belt, slipped off my shoes, and strolled, metal-free, through the security arch. "I have totally got this airport security navigation down," I was smugly thinking to myself as I waited to retrieve my belongings on the other side. "Is that your bag?" Roland asked as I slipped my no-fuss Vans back on my feet. What? They're checking my bag? Pfft! The security officer escorts me over to a nearby table where he proceeds to unzip one of several backpack compartments; and, one by one, begins to extricate the most audacious collection of dangerous contraband I've ever witnessed in the security line. Not one but two pairs of adult, full-sized scissors, an 8 oz bottle of Children's Tylenol, a large screwdriver with a reversible flat-head/phillips insert, and the piece-de-resistance, a hand-carved obsidian knife--an authentic replica of an ancient Mayan weapon--preferred by 4 out of 5 assassins. Now, I've seen enough episodes of 24 and all three Bourne movies so I know that, in the right hands, that collection could have taken down an entire plane full of CIA agents or Homeland Security officers in 6 seconds FLAT.

So what did I do? I burst out LAUGHING. Completely inappropriate, out-of-control, tears streaming down my face, LAUGHING. For some, still unexplained reason, instead of being immediately escorted to that "special area", the security officer somehow determined I was not a threat and didn't even confiscate my knife (which would have been sad since Noah's Grandpa brought it back to him as a special gift from Mexico). Evidently, I am really rocking that innocent, stay-at-home-mom vibe to such an extent that even caught red-handed with a weapons cache, I scare NO ONE. While I continued to convulse in a fit of giggles, Roland casual picks up his pace in an effort to create as much distance from me as possible as we made our way towards the gate. It was a good trip.


Coolest part of the trip? A 40 mile tandem bike ride up and down the hills from Pier 39 all the way through Mt. Tamalpias State Park and coast line, Muir Woods, Sausalito, and back.
Absolutely perfect weather and breathtaking scenery.

* * * * *

Children are always amusing and mine are no exception. Here are some recent pictures and funnies. Emma is quite a rock hound and with so many new acquisitions from recent hikes, we have gathered all of her "treasures" into an aquarium that sits proudly on the washing machine. The other day Roland was admiring her collection and commented that we should get her a rock polisher. Sounds good right? Well, Emma was a little concerned and quietly approached me a few minutes later to inquire if we would have to pay this "rock polisher" or if they would just be donating their services in exchange for room and board.
Kaisa LOVES her pink trailer bike. Kaisa loves pink in general. I have overheard some near knock-down, drag-out smack sessions between Kaisa and Emma on the all-important debate: "Which Color is Better, Pink or Purple." Kaisa can "talk pink" ALL DAY!



We climbed Tiger Mountain a few weeks back--very cool.

Noah is funny too. I just can't think of anything specific right now.
He was a good "clammer" on the Washington coast two weekends past though and has the internal temperature of a mythical werewolf apparently.


Fun Times.




1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I just found your blog! How are you! I really miss you. Heather is leaving me in about a month and then I will be working solo at the Y. Come back!!