Saturday, August 29, 2009
Sunday, August 23, 2009
sometimes...
you just need a little girl time.
our toes enjoyed a little treatment
we loved on some puppies, kitties and marveled at the connections made with a bearded dragon
our taste buds savored a little Taco Bell
my heart swelled when Nadia said, "thanks Mom, I appreciate you".
Sunday, August 16, 2009
The sound of...
...the slick-swipe-click of our debit card as it tries to single handed-ly recover the economic crisis with purchases that promise to keep our young school-goers 'cool' and warm simultaneously was followed by the sighs of disappointment from Tony and I as we schlepped the overpriced school clothes from outlet store to outlet store. There were no victory-arm-pumping shouts of glee when a fantastic bargain has been found. There were groans of disparity between mom chic, dad practicality, Aidan coolness and Nadia comfort. These sounds signaled that summer is careening to an end.
...grandparent-ly questions posed by Papa Russ and Grandma Sue were meant to catch up on the present. Instead, they had me reminiscing about past adventures with these two and looking forward to the future as Tony and I hope to have the kind of love these two share after all of these years.
...Nadia's unfounded terror as the elevator whooshed up the 10 floors of the Hilton were followed quickly by the sound of her heart as my head rest against her tiny body. The melody was interrupted rhythmically by the soft crisp sheets as she repeatedly rubbed her bare feet against my leg to lull herself to sleep. The sound of Aidan flipping and then flopping and then pushing the blankets off and then pulling the blankets up reportedly kept Tony from enjoying the pillow top mattress to it's fullest.
...mmmmmmmmm as we sipped foamy cocoas and savored buttery croissants from a corner French bakery adjacent to Pikes Street fueled our morning. 
...the colors that fill the market bring all of your senses to awakening. Yes, I do mean the sound of the colors. The orange of the carrots make a squeak and the brown of the mushrooms sound like the folding of flannel against flannel and the white of the cauliflower sounds like towels snapping on a clothes line and the clicky-clicky-clicky reddish-black of the crayfish sounds like a tap dancer and the yellow of the sunflowers sounds exactly like the static of brushing Nadia's hair.
...history lessons as Tony describes the windows in the sidewalks entertain us as we hike through the market.
...bustling and chattering people, thick flip-flop-flipping of tourist shoes, crushing ice to ice, jangling silver against stony jewelry, clanking of plates, bowls and nick-knacks and cheerful sales-pitches greeted us as we perused the market.
...mmmmmmmmm as we sipped foamy cocoas and savored buttery croissants from a corner French bakery adjacent to Pikes Street fueled our morning. ...the colors that fill the market bring all of your senses to awakening. Yes, I do mean the sound of the colors. The orange of the carrots make a squeak and the brown of the mushrooms sound like the folding of flannel against flannel and the white of the cauliflower sounds like towels snapping on a clothes line and the clicky-clicky-clicky reddish-black of the crayfish sounds like a tap dancer and the yellow of the sunflowers sounds exactly like the static of brushing Nadia's hair....history lessons as Tony describes the windows in the sidewalks entertain us as we hike through the market. 
...bustling and chattering people, thick flip-flop-flipping of tourist shoes, crushing ice to ice, jangling silver against stony jewelry, clanking of plates, bowls and nick-knacks and cheerful sales-pitches greeted us as we perused the market. ...the t.v., passing cars, child's questions and the alphabet game occupied the Red Mama as we drove from Seattle to Arlington to BBQ at Grandpa John and Nana Becky's house.
...the clicking of plastic to plastic in the foreground as Aidan awaits an age-appropriate and male cousin to play with is accompanied by relatives and friends swapping stories in the background. To pass the time Aidan and I decided to go for a walk. The sound of the wind swirling the leaves of the many trees seemed to echo a thousand tiny hands applauding was the hum as we meandered down the gravel road. He would ask and I would answer, I would ask and he would answer and the topic didn't matter, just his opinion and mine and the tiny clapping of leaf against leaf. 
...the giggles of a gaggle of girls as they went on a hunt for kittens was halted only by the elation of Nadia when Grandpa John sounded the cock-a-doodle-do secret signal that meant Addy had arrived.
..."we will see you soon", "come over to the desert for a visit", "we miss you" followed us down the path back to our car and off to see more cousins.
...the giggles of a gaggle of girls as they went on a hunt for kittens was halted only by the elation of Nadia when Grandpa John sounded the cock-a-doodle-do secret signal that meant Addy had arrived. ..."we will see you soon", "come over to the desert for a visit", "we miss you" followed us down the path back to our car and off to see more cousins....the grunts and coos and rattles of sing song baby toys as we visited with Lilly and Max warmed our hearts. The background of Aidan asking "when will Andrew be here" was finally silenced when the Friends arrived, only to be replaced with the happy hum of a three year old bundle of coyish cuteness named Mason and the reverberation of baby coos, grunts and sing songs when Baby Brody entered. Brody can only be described as a serious hunk 'o baby love. Cousins chattered, both young and old, cousins giggled, I ooo'ed and aaah'ed over the wonders of babies and mentally cursed my camera battery for giving out too soon.
..."thank you for letting us crash your evening" was followed by hugs and promises to see each other soon as we loaded up to come home. Tony and I talked of his cousins and how we would love to live closer to see them more and of our hope that they will come visit soon.
...of Aidan asking for the t.v. to be turned off. WHAT? WHAT? This has never in the history of the Bachart world happened before. We looked around a little confused. We were not even through Everett and he doesn't ever fall asleep before Cle Elum. We asked him to repeat what he just said and Nadia piped in, "we're tired, can you turn the t.v. off so we can go to sleep?". So we did just that, and I curled up into an uncomfortable, balancing pretzel and the remaining sound of the drive home was Tony flipping through the country stations to try to stay awake.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
and the next Sunday...
Since the wind is blowing Tony says, with trepidation, "can we go sailing today?" and before I can answer he says, "just for like an hour or so, and we will go just down the road. I know you were really sick last time, so I understand if you don't want to, but just so you know, I really, really love that you tried it out."
What he doesn't know is that I am already calculating the time it will take to jump in and out of the shower and get the kids suited up while trying to mentally search the house for my suit that I am 90% sure I washed yesterday, but then I remember I only thought about doing laundry and lounged around reading instead.
And so we suit up.
and get ice water ready.
and fix the coleslaw we are planning to have for dinner so it can marinate.
and brazenly all jump in Stinky Pete to travel the 3 miles to Wade Park.
and don my Sea Bands.
and down my ginger punch.
and quickly hoist the sails.
and tie down the refreshments.
and back down the ramp.
and fight the wind with nervousness.
and blow against the dock with a not too gentle slap, slap, thud.
and accept the kindness of a stranger, Kayak-er Steve, who walked the nameless vessel along the dock.
and try to hide our embarrassment as he jumps on dock to further assist us.
and smile sheepishly at my husband as Kayak-er Steve shouts suggestions.
and hide my giggles as the tillers get stuck in the vegetation.
and hold Nadia close as the big waves from a passing boat crash against nameless vessel.
and helplessly offer help.
and breeze down river.
and snap a pic with my cell phone.
and shoot across river to the neighboring town.
and jokingly ask the kids if they want to play in the park as it seems we will meet the shore before we want to.
and shade Nadia's eyes as she stretches across the tramp hanging on for dear life.
and try to decide if she is scared or sick.
and struggle up river.
and realize Aidan is becoming Tony's first mate, complete with jargon like, "How we doin' old chap?" while hanging off the side.
and realize Nadia's hand is lax against the ropes and her breathing is sleepy.
and breeze down river narrowly missing
a jet ski here
and a speedboat there,
here a goose,
there a fisherman,
everywhere a hindrance!
and then see the Sheriff's boat.
and see the Sheriff's boat heading straight for us.
and question Tony, "is he going to veer any time soon?"
and watch him circle us.
and watch Tony expertly sweep around to come to a stop
and think Tony has been holding out on us, he is a pretty good sailor that one!
and wonder ditzily aloud, "do they want to talk to us?"
and listen with bamboozled ears as they explain that they received a call that a family on a sailboat was struggling.
and laugh, but wonder if they are right.
and thank the Officers for their kindness for looking out for us
and try not to blush as the chatty Officer tells Tony he looks like he is doing just fine.
and decide it is time to head in.
What he doesn't know is that I am already calculating the time it will take to jump in and out of the shower and get the kids suited up while trying to mentally search the house for my suit that I am 90% sure I washed yesterday, but then I remember I only thought about doing laundry and lounged around reading instead.
And so we suit up.
and get ice water ready.
and fix the coleslaw we are planning to have for dinner so it can marinate.
and brazenly all jump in Stinky Pete to travel the 3 miles to Wade Park.
and don my Sea Bands.
and down my ginger punch.
and quickly hoist the sails.
and tie down the refreshments.
and back down the ramp.
and fight the wind with nervousness.
and blow against the dock with a not too gentle slap, slap, thud.
and accept the kindness of a stranger, Kayak-er Steve, who walked the nameless vessel along the dock.
and try to hide our embarrassment as he jumps on dock to further assist us.
and smile sheepishly at my husband as Kayak-er Steve shouts suggestions.
and hide my giggles as the tillers get stuck in the vegetation.
and hold Nadia close as the big waves from a passing boat crash against nameless vessel.
and helplessly offer help.
and breeze down river.
and snap a pic with my cell phone.
and shoot across river to the neighboring town.
and jokingly ask the kids if they want to play in the park as it seems we will meet the shore before we want to.
and shade Nadia's eyes as she stretches across the tramp hanging on for dear life.
and try to decide if she is scared or sick.
and struggle up river.
and realize Aidan is becoming Tony's first mate, complete with jargon like, "How we doin' old chap?" while hanging off the side.
and realize Nadia's hand is lax against the ropes and her breathing is sleepy.
and breeze down river narrowly missing
a jet ski here
and a speedboat there,
here a goose,
there a fisherman,
everywhere a hindrance!
and then see the Sheriff's boat.
and see the Sheriff's boat heading straight for us.
and question Tony, "is he going to veer any time soon?"
and watch him circle us.
and watch Tony expertly sweep around to come to a stop
and think Tony has been holding out on us, he is a pretty good sailor that one!
and wonder ditzily aloud, "do they want to talk to us?"
and listen with bamboozled ears as they explain that they received a call that a family on a sailboat was struggling.
and laugh, but wonder if they are right.
and thank the Officers for their kindness for looking out for us
and try not to blush as the chatty Officer tells Tony he looks like he is doing just fine.
and decide it is time to head in.
Friday, August 7, 2009
and one Sunday...
Last Sunday to be specific, was the maiden voyage of the SS Doesn't Have A Name But Does Have Some Numbers And A Brightly Stripped Sail Atop Two Banana-ish Hulls.
It was a beautifully sunny hundred degree scorcher. We caravan-ed to Charbonneau Park with Nadia and Tony leading the team in Stinky Pete and Aidan and I bringing up the tail in Red Mama. As per normal with this configuration I had to jump out on the highway to salvage something that fell off of Tony's charge, but only once this time. You see this arrangement is not so the two fragile members of the family can relax in air conditioned, cruise controlled goodness, it is out of precaution because Stinky Pete is a wee bit unpredictable. Charbonneau, being a popular place on such a day, did provide one parking spot nearest the boat ramp and one out in Timbuktu.
After arranging and rearranging our gear it was time to raise the mast and hoist the sail
and bungee the nourishment to the tarp
and don the colorful life jackets
and secure my Sea Bands
and tie off the lines
and get in line at the ramp
and wait in line at the ramp
and finally back down the ramp, in just two tries
and prepare to unload
and be stopped by a 13 year old telling us to move our boat back up the ramp because his family forgot to put the plug in their boat
and take our boat back up to dry land
and offer to help family in any way you can
and watch as they park on the ramp for the next 20 minutes trying to drain their boat, with a keg cup
and get in the other line
and wait
and finally take the mercy of the guy who has been watching all of this unfold who lets us cut in line
and back down the ramp in one try
and try to release the straps to lower the boat
and watch our kids so they don't get lost, stolen or drown
and finally release the boat
and park the truck
and embark the boat (something we had not rehearsed)
and set sail!!!
but there is no wind. So we get the oars,
and row
and row
and row
and let the lady who is patiently waiting to get to the ramp know that it might be awhile because of the sinking boat (they have been parked on the ramp for about 45 minutes at this point)
and row
and row
and then out on open water we drift and wait for wind.
I have been experiencing motion sickness since we stood on the dock. Technically, my first memory of motion sickness dates back to 1982 during the weekly car ride from Pasco to the Ranch in Dayton after ingesting McD's orange juice. Another story for another time, but know that the motion sickness remains. So while green, I am trying to smile and experience sailing. And so we float.
and bob
and float
and weave
and float
and bounce
and the kids jump in
and I lie down
and Tony frets because the wind is not gracing us with it's presence
and Tony jumps in
and I shade my eyes
and remain horizontal
and listen to Nadia giggle
and Aidan plan adventures
and see them pop up in the front
and then the back
and hear Tony hoist them up by their life jackets
and sit up
and eat a little lunch
and lie back down
and hear them splash in again
and listen to the conversation between father and children
and brother and sister
and sweetly ask my sweet husband to maneuver the boat so the sail shades me
and feel like a wimp
and sit up to engage in conversation
and lie back down
and drag my feet over the edge
and feel the cool water lap around my ankles
and try in earnest not to think of the capacity of fish brains in distinguishing my toes from some delectable treat
and jump up as Tony declares so joyfully that you can hear the smile, "FEEL THAT!"
and I think he means the bobbing and weaving and bouncing again or worse, a toe-loving or child-eating fish, but then I realize he means the wind. It was more of a breeze but it got our attention. He hoists the kids up, grabs the tiller and speaks sailor talk to me. I have no idea what he is talking about, but he is near giddy. The kids are giddy. I am green and giddy. We shoot across the lake and I start to believe the sailors we talked to a couple weeks back when we were surveying the area who said the Hobie Cat is like the sports car of sail boats, and to think I just thought it had a cute name. And then the wind stopped. There we were across the lake, away from our car and truck, away from the boat ramp and in the quiet. It was blissful.
Reality slapped us with the slant that without wind we would have to paddle our way back but the day was still young. We enjoyed our solitude and the peaceful surroundings and when the time came we paddled back. There were some sketchy docking issues on the return trip but we returned safely with smiles on our faces, and adventure in our spirits for the next time.
It was a beautifully sunny hundred degree scorcher. We caravan-ed to Charbonneau Park with Nadia and Tony leading the team in Stinky Pete and Aidan and I bringing up the tail in Red Mama. As per normal with this configuration I had to jump out on the highway to salvage something that fell off of Tony's charge, but only once this time. You see this arrangement is not so the two fragile members of the family can relax in air conditioned, cruise controlled goodness, it is out of precaution because Stinky Pete is a wee bit unpredictable. Charbonneau, being a popular place on such a day, did provide one parking spot nearest the boat ramp and one out in Timbuktu.
After arranging and rearranging our gear it was time to raise the mast and hoist the sail
and bungee the nourishment to the tarp
and don the colorful life jackets
and secure my Sea Bands
and tie off the lines
and get in line at the ramp
and wait in line at the ramp
and finally back down the ramp, in just two tries
and prepare to unload
and be stopped by a 13 year old telling us to move our boat back up the ramp because his family forgot to put the plug in their boat
and take our boat back up to dry land
and offer to help family in any way you can
and watch as they park on the ramp for the next 20 minutes trying to drain their boat, with a keg cup
and get in the other line
and wait
and finally take the mercy of the guy who has been watching all of this unfold who lets us cut in line
and back down the ramp in one try
and try to release the straps to lower the boat
and watch our kids so they don't get lost, stolen or drown
and finally release the boat
and park the truck
and embark the boat (something we had not rehearsed)
and set sail!!!
but there is no wind. So we get the oars,
and row
and row
and row
and let the lady who is patiently waiting to get to the ramp know that it might be awhile because of the sinking boat (they have been parked on the ramp for about 45 minutes at this point)
and row
and row
and then out on open water we drift and wait for wind.
I have been experiencing motion sickness since we stood on the dock. Technically, my first memory of motion sickness dates back to 1982 during the weekly car ride from Pasco to the Ranch in Dayton after ingesting McD's orange juice. Another story for another time, but know that the motion sickness remains. So while green, I am trying to smile and experience sailing. And so we float.
and bob
and float
and weave
and float
and bounce
and the kids jump in
and I lie down
and Tony frets because the wind is not gracing us with it's presence
and Tony jumps in
and I shade my eyes
and remain horizontal
and listen to Nadia giggle
and Aidan plan adventures
and see them pop up in the front
and then the back
and hear Tony hoist them up by their life jackets
and sit up
and eat a little lunch
and lie back down
and hear them splash in again
and listen to the conversation between father and children
and brother and sister
and sweetly ask my sweet husband to maneuver the boat so the sail shades me
and feel like a wimp
and sit up to engage in conversation
and lie back down
and drag my feet over the edge
and feel the cool water lap around my ankles
and try in earnest not to think of the capacity of fish brains in distinguishing my toes from some delectable treat
and jump up as Tony declares so joyfully that you can hear the smile, "FEEL THAT!"
and I think he means the bobbing and weaving and bouncing again or worse, a toe-loving or child-eating fish, but then I realize he means the wind. It was more of a breeze but it got our attention. He hoists the kids up, grabs the tiller and speaks sailor talk to me. I have no idea what he is talking about, but he is near giddy. The kids are giddy. I am green and giddy. We shoot across the lake and I start to believe the sailors we talked to a couple weeks back when we were surveying the area who said the Hobie Cat is like the sports car of sail boats, and to think I just thought it had a cute name. And then the wind stopped. There we were across the lake, away from our car and truck, away from the boat ramp and in the quiet. It was blissful.
Reality slapped us with the slant that without wind we would have to paddle our way back but the day was still young. We enjoyed our solitude and the peaceful surroundings and when the time came we paddled back. There were some sketchy docking issues on the return trip but we returned safely with smiles on our faces, and adventure in our spirits for the next time.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
aidan's party
Atticus and Tennyson traveled all the way from Portland to spend the weekend with us! Aidan and Atticus agreed to follow in Monique and my footsteps and be roomies in college.
Thank you to Sara for taking such wonderful pictures and for coming early to help me set up!
Aidan did such a good job planning his party. Seven continents, seven games, seven types of food and a ton of fun.
Thank you to Aidan's classmates, family and friends who came to celebrate with us. Thank you to grandparents who traveled from Arlington and from Huntsville, and friends & family who traveled from Portland, Richland and Pasco to spend the evening 'traveling' the world. We even got a quick but wonderful visit the next day from the Rounds, but with a dead camera no pictures to prove it. We appreciate that you all endured the chaos and the triple digit temperatures!
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