Over the years we (the Caster's) have spent many of our 4th of July celebrations with Allsion. Most of which have occurred in the mountains just East of us at a family cabin, where we would roast marshmallows, delight in how amazing beer tastes while camping, and honestly not care that our children were covered in the black earth for the duration of the trip. Before the sun got too low in the sky, we would load both families up in the truck and trek down the hill to enjoy "the bombs bursting in air". We had the perfect perch on the hill just outside Collbran, all of us in awe of the spectacular show that always exceeded our expectations.
It's been a few years since we have celebrated our country's independence, so this year we planned a grand return to the once vibrant tradition. A multi-day camping trip just outside of Gunnison. As will all grandiose plans, the seem great at the time but when reality sets in, you begin to see the flaws: First- the fire ban across Colorado (this year nearly the entire state was burning up- from Ft. Collins to Colorado Springs and even in our own back yard of Debeque.) And what fun is camping with no camp fire to enchant the evenings and warm the mornings? Second: required portable toilette - no more outhouse on the property, instead the new covenants state we have to have a septic or transport our poo out. Third: the remembrance of Allsion and I attempting a week long camping trip with the kids that ended MUCH sooner than anticipated. We had expected a week of non-stop friend time knitting, relaxing, chatting, and perfectly behaved children. What we got was quite the opposite, and just remembering was enough to scare me out of committing to what possibly could be a repeat of that.
The Revised Plan: Collbran pancake breakfast, parade, and a trip up to a quiet little stream to splash the afternoon heat away. This was actually a perfect replacement. Besides the long line for the pancake breakfast, the whole days was a nice little escape. The parade is one of the best I have ever been to, not for the amazing creativity level of the floats, but for the uniqueness and plethora of treats that are thrown to the children lining the sidewalk- can you say OTTER POPS. Yes we were abundantly supplied with frozen otter pop popsicles and the kids loved it. After the parade we made our way up and around my favorite lake, Atkinson, to the inlet stream. The kids, even though it was cool and cloudy, spent the rest of the afternoon splashing in the creek and exploring, while we adults sat and enjoyed the scenery and company. Our afternoon came to a beautiful close when rain clouds rolled in and had mercy on our dry parched state.
I have never in my life been more happy for a downpour.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Sunday, July 15, 2012
My Next Half
I'm actually really excited for this race. I am feeling really good, no major ailment - well maybe a inkling of a twinge in my hip flexor - but the stronger I get the less its bugging me. My last half was my pr of 2:00:56, so my goal for this half is to run it in 2:05:00 or less. (Secretly I would love to see a 1 as the first number there, but if I told anybody else that, and then didn't accomplish it, I would feel like a failure) Plus, I think a 2:05 is a great time and completely reasonable. There are just too many factors and variables that play into my race day success, and I just don't have it down to a science, yet - or maybe even never - and I am completely ok with that.
Training is currently on track, but man is it difficult to squeeze in considering my running buddy is gone on vacation, followed by my trip to Idaho later this month. This leaves us to run alone for most of the week, and somehow find time to run our long runs in the overlaps of our schedule. Anne hasn't registered, though she is leaving the possibility open.
Christie is also running, and we have a really great girls weekend in store OR a nice couples retreat in store depending on how things shape up as we approach the date.
So here's to another great half!
The Bronz Horseman
I am breathless, having just read 637 pages of adventure, love, secrets, betrayal, heartache, and sacrifice. I must admit that there were times I wanted to give up on the book. Like when I first picked it up from the library and it was so huge! Not that I don't like reading, or couldn't finish that many pages, but it seemed like a really big commitment to make to a book! Then again during frustrating - no maddening- arguments between Tatiana and Alexander! I could hardly bare the intensity and insanity of it. And again during such deep heartache and loss; if I could barely make it through another page, I couldn't see how the characters would manage another breath. But isn't this what great books do to us, don’t they evoke such intense feelings and create vivid images that we feel as though we are living along side it? At one point, during the blockade, when food was scarce and rations were dwindling, I was called away from the book to have lunch with my family. It was the strangest feeling eating, I felt as though I needed to save part of my meal for later, not knowing where or when the next bite of food would come. That’s how immersed I became.
The second World War has always fascinated me, and I have read many historical fiction books from this time period, though none have been from the perspective from the Communist Russia. I found this love story set during WWII Soviet Union, spellbinding. Reading about communism from the perspective of someone who never knew any different. The living conditions, shared kitchens and bathrooms, multiple generations sharing two rooms, bread lines, and ration cards are so foreign to me.
It was intriguing to see how the ideals of communism broke down during the time of war, and in its place self enterprise was rewarded with food and money. How some Soviets viewed Hitler and Stalin as two sides of the same coin. . .
It was, again, appalling to see just how fierce and strong the Germans were, and just how close they came to reaching their goal. This book is a brutal reminder that many suffered, many starved, and many died at the hands of one man's ideals.
But this is not the heart of this story, just the intricate weaving of place and time. This story is much, much, more. It is a story of love, and the sacrifices one will make for that love. Whether that love be for family, for country, for self, or for a lover - a soul mate, love demands sacrifice. That is what this story is, it is a story of sacrifice.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Divergent
Divergent by Veronica RothMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
I took a break from the dystopia genera for a bit, but this read was a nice welcome back. Imagine living in a society where only 5 virtues remain, and at the age of 16 you must proclaim your faction, the virtue you will live by for the rest of your life. While most people choose the faction they were raised in, some choose to convert, and in a rare case they find themselves Divergent. Faced with the choice of abandoning her faction of selflessness and following her heart to the faction that embodies fearlessness, is only compounded when her faction are being scrutinized and blamed, bringing the society to the brink of a revolution.
When Beatrice discovers that she is Divergent she has no idea the danger she is in or the impact she could have in the revolution. Making her choice to join the fearless, she soon realizes that there is a fine line between being selfless and fearless, while seeing the truth behind her divergent nature.
Excellent young adult read, full of rebellion, thrills, and even love.
View all my reviews
Monday, June 4, 2012
The Absolutely True Diary of a Part Time Indian
The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman AlexieMy rating: 3 of 5 stars
Think diary of a wimpy kid + crass hormonal high school boy + a lot of surprisingly deep meaning of life lessons.
It was funny, funny enought that I chuckled out loud multiple times.
I'm not sure I can recommend it to my students though, as I think the only thing they will get from the book is this dude talks about masterbation (only like 3 times in the whole book), but that is what a middle school boy is going to remember.
View all my reviews
Ranger "Danger" 12/28/2005- 5/31/12
He is gone.
I dropped him off at the vet early Thursday morning, I thought they would be giving him an IV and breathing treatments. I thought Brian would come home and pick him up and in a few days he would be back to normal.
I thought wrong and he is gone.
It all happened so fast, it took all of us by surprise. Even the vet was ready to send him home with us (after giving us nebulizer training) to nurse him back to health. As Brian showed up to bring him home, he was told "I thought I was going to be giving you your dog, instead I have to tell you that he has passed."
We are shocked, he is gone.
En rout to Park City, passing over mountain peaks, I received a call, one I thought would tell me that he had made great improvement, and was coming home. Instead, I learned of our loss.
In harmony Madison and I wailed in grief, he is gone.
A weekend filled with soccer, gave a decent distraction for the two of us. Reality crept in with the darkness of night. I could fold up my sorrow and tuck it away, but knew it was temporary, I'd soon be home and faced with reality.
Our home had a gaping hole, he is gone.
It was cancer that had devastated his lungs, making them unable to fight off the pneumonia. He wouldn't have made it much longer, and the reality is he only suffered a short time, and we never had to make the decision to let him go.
It was so fast, he is gone.
Brian said how fitting it was, Ranger never did anything small, it was always huge; He'd find the stinkiest mud hole to wallow in, he'd escape from the yard by busting a hole clean through the fence, he didn't chew on toys, he instead chewed the stairs. The cancer was massive, his death was speedy.
He went big, he is gone.
I didn't say good bye, I didn't think it was the end. But looking back, he knew. He let me brush him for hours, he let me lay with him and hold him. He didn't come inside his last night with us, he laid out , in his favorite place under the bush. Had he been able, I think he would have wandered into the wilderness and laid in a stinky mud hole for his final rest.
He knew, he said good bye, and now he is gone.
Ranger, our snow dog,
Ranger, our fluff ball,
Ranger, our pillow
Ranger our goof ball,
Ranger our friend.
He may be gone, but his presence was a present.
I dropped him off at the vet early Thursday morning, I thought they would be giving him an IV and breathing treatments. I thought Brian would come home and pick him up and in a few days he would be back to normal.
I thought wrong and he is gone.
It all happened so fast, it took all of us by surprise. Even the vet was ready to send him home with us (after giving us nebulizer training) to nurse him back to health. As Brian showed up to bring him home, he was told "I thought I was going to be giving you your dog, instead I have to tell you that he has passed."
We are shocked, he is gone.
En rout to Park City, passing over mountain peaks, I received a call, one I thought would tell me that he had made great improvement, and was coming home. Instead, I learned of our loss.
In harmony Madison and I wailed in grief, he is gone.
A weekend filled with soccer, gave a decent distraction for the two of us. Reality crept in with the darkness of night. I could fold up my sorrow and tuck it away, but knew it was temporary, I'd soon be home and faced with reality.
Our home had a gaping hole, he is gone.
It was cancer that had devastated his lungs, making them unable to fight off the pneumonia. He wouldn't have made it much longer, and the reality is he only suffered a short time, and we never had to make the decision to let him go.
It was so fast, he is gone.
Brian said how fitting it was, Ranger never did anything small, it was always huge; He'd find the stinkiest mud hole to wallow in, he'd escape from the yard by busting a hole clean through the fence, he didn't chew on toys, he instead chewed the stairs. The cancer was massive, his death was speedy.
He went big, he is gone.
I didn't say good bye, I didn't think it was the end. But looking back, he knew. He let me brush him for hours, he let me lay with him and hold him. He didn't come inside his last night with us, he laid out , in his favorite place under the bush. Had he been able, I think he would have wandered into the wilderness and laid in a stinky mud hole for his final rest.
He knew, he said good bye, and now he is gone.
Ranger, our snow dog,
Ranger, our fluff ball,
Ranger, our pillow
Ranger our goof ball,
Ranger our friend.
He may be gone, but his presence was a present.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Surprising, Overwhelming, Gushing, Love
We have 3 dogs. We used to have 2 dogs. And a really, really, long time ago (10 years) we only had one dog. I never have had an overwhelming desire to have pets, most furry ones make me itch, dogs are most often an exception to that. So don't ask me how we have now ended up with THREE dogs. Maybe its a testament to the soft spot in my heart for lost causes... our first was a rescue, and the latest was an inheritance... only the middle one was by planning and choice. Since we now have 3 dogs, my house is a disaster, the amount of fur has not tripled, or increased by 1/2, instead it has been an exponential increase. As of late this has been the primary source of annoyance, and anxiety for me.
So why not just get rid of them, or even just one of them? I don't seem all that attached, right? It seems like a completely logical and easy decision.
At least this is what I thought until one of them gets sick, like really sick. Labored breathing, hacking, lethargic, and the tell tell sign - not eating. The dog who tells time by when his food bowl should be filled won't eat. Of course I took him to the vet yesterday, they checked him out, made sure he didn't have heart worm, and gave him some antibiotics, a bronchial-dilator, and anti-inflammatory. I headed home with a renewed sense of hope, he would soon be on the mend.
Last nigh I laid with him just so he wouldn't be alone, but his extremely labored breathing was so reminiscent of my own during an asthma attack, and all I could do was weep, the fear and panic I feel during an attack must be horrible for him - not knowing what is wrong.
Then again this morning he wouldn't eat. We kept him inside out of the heat, and calm. I was expecting to come home to a markedly improved dog, but when I got home he coughed up blood. Of course the vet was out of the office by that time, so he goes in first thing in the morning.
All evening I have just sat and brushed, and snuggled, and cried with worry for him. Who would have though that below all that indifference I feel - or thought I felt - for these dogs, that I actually care this much, that I actually LOVE them.
This overwhelming, heart wrenching, tear jerking emotion has caught me completely off guard. I tolerated, and most of the time even like these furry boys, but this is just so completely unexpected. To love an animal so much that I spend the night laying next to and comforting them, and sobbing tears, pleading with God to make him be ok. It's surprising to say the least.
Tonight I just hope his sleep is peaceful, that we make it till the morning, and that tomorrow they will know what is wrong with him.
Learned: Something new about myself, behind this cold hard indifferent exterior is an animal lover at heart.
So why not just get rid of them, or even just one of them? I don't seem all that attached, right? It seems like a completely logical and easy decision.
At least this is what I thought until one of them gets sick, like really sick. Labored breathing, hacking, lethargic, and the tell tell sign - not eating. The dog who tells time by when his food bowl should be filled won't eat. Of course I took him to the vet yesterday, they checked him out, made sure he didn't have heart worm, and gave him some antibiotics, a bronchial-dilator, and anti-inflammatory. I headed home with a renewed sense of hope, he would soon be on the mend.
Last nigh I laid with him just so he wouldn't be alone, but his extremely labored breathing was so reminiscent of my own during an asthma attack, and all I could do was weep, the fear and panic I feel during an attack must be horrible for him - not knowing what is wrong.
Then again this morning he wouldn't eat. We kept him inside out of the heat, and calm. I was expecting to come home to a markedly improved dog, but when I got home he coughed up blood. Of course the vet was out of the office by that time, so he goes in first thing in the morning.
All evening I have just sat and brushed, and snuggled, and cried with worry for him. Who would have though that below all that indifference I feel - or thought I felt - for these dogs, that I actually care this much, that I actually LOVE them.
This overwhelming, heart wrenching, tear jerking emotion has caught me completely off guard. I tolerated, and most of the time even like these furry boys, but this is just so completely unexpected. To love an animal so much that I spend the night laying next to and comforting them, and sobbing tears, pleading with God to make him be ok. It's surprising to say the least.
Tonight I just hope his sleep is peaceful, that we make it till the morning, and that tomorrow they will know what is wrong with him.
Learned: Something new about myself, behind this cold hard indifferent exterior is an animal lover at heart.
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