Peonies

Spring is climatic. I can't decide what my favorite part is each year--the first crocus, the spears of hyacinth that follow, the sea of tulips, or the blooming peonies. Right now because the peonies are in bloom I can't imagine anything else as spetacular. To be accurate I should mention one of the plants is in full bloom, two or three have a few blooms, and the other 7 lie green and flowerless. I think they must be planted too deep. They have healthy lush greenery each year but no flowers. Next fall, I hope to bring them up. Update in Spring 2010 (and 2011...).

Oregon Coast 2008: Rockaway

Ecola State Park
Alison's first tentative test of the waters.Pleased.
Stuart wasn't as sure.

I had to save him often.

Digging holes.

From Ecola State Park we spent some time exploring Cannon Beach and then headed south. I think this picture is taken looking over Manzanita, but I'm not positive. I do remember that Stuart didn't want to be part of the family. He was his own island and any attempts to persuade him to come closer made him scoot further away. Alison also skinned her knee here and we were required to stop at the next gas station to find bandaids.

Nicole found a retro little beachside room near Rockaway. When we pulled up, the building was covered in scaffolding and missing its exterior plaster. However, this was the view from our balcony, Alison and Stuart's first experience with sunsets and pink skies, and when work resumed the following morning right outside our window, the kids were delighted with the construction entertainment.

Oregon Coast 2009: Seaside

Nicole rocked the Oregon coast this year (look for last year's funky little entry to be published later this week)--finding the most perfect little cottage on the outskirts of Seaside. Quiet. Next to the beach. Heated pool (big plus from the kids). Playground (possibly even bigger plus from the kids). Boardwalk to a quaint little resort town--Oregon style. Sidenote: In college I visited another Seaside, a decade ago, on the other side of the continent, and under completely different circumstances, obviously. I feel a bit troubled having competing memories for Seaside. I like things to be clearly separated within my head and when they muddle, I fall apart.
I've heard that the Oregon Coast can be volatile. It seems to be propaganda to keep others away. We had the most gorgeous weather both this year and last. Mostly sunny, yet cool enough for a sweater. Perfect. We spent Friday in Ecola State Park--the only re-do from last year. A wide stretch of sand, protected, beautiful, isolated, and a freshwater creek empties to the ocean there, which makes the most delightful veins of water for little ones to send boats, throw rocks into (which Martin happily did for 3 hours), and splash around in. Alison and Stuart have grown so much. They were confident and content to play forever there.
When I went up to get the camera, I took this picture of our little day camp with Alison, Stuart, Martin, and Ryan.

This is the playground outside our cottage.

On the beach in front of the cottage (after the coastal grass, wild strawberries and blackberry brambles), we made a complicated rail system in the sand. Justin arrived later and viewing the station upside down, thought we had drawn the factories billowing smoke.

We traced a whole flock of little shadows next to the tracks which Alison named and organized. This is a "Mom" and a "Dad" who look suspiciously like Alison and Stuart.

Stuart and Alison (and by consequence Ryan and I) ran the rails for hours.

Swimming after the beach.

Carousel in Seaside.

Seaside Aquarium

The last day we made our way home via Fort Stevens State Park and Astoria (where we stopped to ride the streetcar, of course). Our first stop was a picnic lunch at Coffenbury Lake.

Next, we visited the shipwreck Peter Iredale which ran aground in 1906. Alison takes after me; we both get crazy hair at the beach.

The beach next to the wreckage was the perfect environment for flying our kites. We bought the kites in Seaside and though they were dinky and at first we were embarrassed we owned them, they flew well. It was Stuart and Alison's first real successful experience with kites. Stuart was too cold and required a lot of snuggling but Alison was captivated.

Our camera kicked the dust on this trip (I heard once that you can expect 10,000 captures from a camera. I thought it was silliness at the time because ours was nearly there and still going strong. It made it to 11,000 and the last 1,000 I'd say it has had a limp, so maybe it is true.) This is the shot I wish was captured, with her playing the string of her kite and deep in concentration. The dying camera wouldn't cooperate. Pft.

Evidence of crazy hair.

Stop three in Fort Stevens State Park--the tip where the Pacific Ocean, Columbia River, Washington, and Oregon all collide.

Stay tuned for pictures from last year's visit later this week and hopefully many more years of visits in the future.

Not Silly Enough

This is the one picture that will exist of this shirt being worn. Stuart doesn't like it. I suspected this before I even stiched it together. I showed him the material and asked if he would like a shirt out of it.

Stuart: "No, I don't like it."
Me: "Why?"
Stuart: "Because. Those froggies aren't silly enough."

Clearly. I had thought that Stuart would love this Japanese print with the little frogs when I picked it up in Portland last year. However, I've been reminded, once again, that his mind is much more complicated.


Happy news. Last year, when I clipped the parsley patch, I made a pile on my concrete. This year, my concrete cracks are growing self-sown parsley instead of weeds (well, in honesty, in addition to weeds in some places). Simply makes me happy. I think the square patch may survive from the lawn sprinkler overspray. I'm worried about the other caught in the middle of the hot concrete this summer.

Happy Birthday Uncle Aric

Stuart and Alison have been waiting for the season of birthdays that occurs during this week--Uncle Aric, Aunt Emily, Aunt Kelsie, and Uncle Darren. Everybody that stopped by the house was informed, at least once, that it was Uncle Aric's birthday. Grandpa (the one present on THE birth day) was kind enough to play along, acting shocked and suprised, and thanking Stuart for the reminder.

Right when I almost wrangled the duo for bed, Uncle Jeremy stopped in and it began again. We're very lucky to have such fun uncles who love my children and come to visit often.

The next day, Stuart and Alison couldn't wrap their heads around why Aunt Emily didn't come for her birthday cake. Living in Las Vegas, busy, have to take a plane, planes are expensive were all inadequate excuses and followed by, "but why!?!" Next year Emily, save the day!

Okay, and onto something too gross to have its own title/post. A few days Alison had a pet fly. She somehow caught it, released it (it flew around a while), and recaught it. Here it is chilling on her hand. She was so pleased that I didn't have the heart to tell her that not everybody would be as impressed.