It is awesome to live in a major US city, wake up, have a leisurely two cups of coffee and breakfast, and then decide to go for a hike and be in the mountains an hour later. I like that a lot.
The Dog on A Mountain
Friday, April 12, 2013
Sunday, April 7, 2013
Random Rainy Day Thoughts in Seattle
1. Why does The Dog get grumpy when I take her to the off-leash dog park? Other dogs tried to sniff her and she'd annoyed-snarl (you know, more "Back off, buddy," than "I'm going to eat you!") and trot back over to me. Was she having a bad day? Didn't like the rain? Thought she was protecting me? Who knows. Sigh.
2. I like getting carded when I'm at the grocery store buying a bottle of wine. I know they have to card everyone. I still like it!
3. Helping someone I really like put his dryer on top of his washer and bolting it down is more fun than going to the symphony and dinner with someone I don't really care about. That's so nice.
4. After a total of almost 6 years of Seattle living, I think that we women of Seattle don't wear makeup not because we're so fresh-faced and healthy living (though we're that, too), but because it is a pain to get mascara and eye makeup down your face on a rainy day. Much easier to just go sans makeup!
5. I still get goosebumps when I'm driving or running and look up to see the Cascades on one side, and/or the Olympics on the other. It's awesome.
6. Running in the rain with a dear friend is the best way to start a Sunday morning!
That's all. Hope everyone is having a good day!
2. I like getting carded when I'm at the grocery store buying a bottle of wine. I know they have to card everyone. I still like it!
3. Helping someone I really like put his dryer on top of his washer and bolting it down is more fun than going to the symphony and dinner with someone I don't really care about. That's so nice.
4. After a total of almost 6 years of Seattle living, I think that we women of Seattle don't wear makeup not because we're so fresh-faced and healthy living (though we're that, too), but because it is a pain to get mascara and eye makeup down your face on a rainy day. Much easier to just go sans makeup!
5. I still get goosebumps when I'm driving or running and look up to see the Cascades on one side, and/or the Olympics on the other. It's awesome.
6. Running in the rain with a dear friend is the best way to start a Sunday morning!
That's all. Hope everyone is having a good day!
Monday, March 4, 2013
Spring is springing!
So.....
The tulips are in blossom. The Bachelor is almost over. The days are getting longer. And birds, bees and humans are starting to wake up from their winter slumber and notice the world and others around them.
Well, I'm no different than the birds and the bees. And, this spring, I'm noticing a particular person in my world more than others. It feels dangerous, rebellious even, to be posting about this, but I think the only people that read this are my family, and as I am a part of the Flannery Gossip Chain, it ain't new news. :)
So I'm feeling that someone is dreamy, and easy to talk to, and smarter and more decent than I can believe, so I've got a goofy smile on my face and a feeling that even if it doesn't last (and I think it might), I'm happy and renewed in knowing I can feel this light and happy and smiley.
So yeah. Life is good. Work as always as good, but there is this special something in the air for me. Like the birds, the trees and the Earth herself. Spring is springing, and it's about time!
The tulips are in blossom. The Bachelor is almost over. The days are getting longer. And birds, bees and humans are starting to wake up from their winter slumber and notice the world and others around them.
Well, I'm no different than the birds and the bees. And, this spring, I'm noticing a particular person in my world more than others. It feels dangerous, rebellious even, to be posting about this, but I think the only people that read this are my family, and as I am a part of the Flannery Gossip Chain, it ain't new news. :)
So I'm feeling that someone is dreamy, and easy to talk to, and smarter and more decent than I can believe, so I've got a goofy smile on my face and a feeling that even if it doesn't last (and I think it might), I'm happy and renewed in knowing I can feel this light and happy and smiley.
So yeah. Life is good. Work as always as good, but there is this special something in the air for me. Like the birds, the trees and the Earth herself. Spring is springing, and it's about time!
Sunday, February 24, 2013
A Letter To Grandpa
Ray E. Tucker passed away on February 22, 2006. I think of him every day.
Dear Grandpa,
Today I made coffee in the white coffee mug with the flag pattern that you bought at the PX almost ten years ago, and I thought of you. I also thought of you when I added creamer to my coffee. I could practically hear you say, "Katie, you've adulterated a perfectly good cup of coffee with that milk." I remember you telling me about your first cup of coffee on the train to Parris Island for your Marine boot camp, and how much you loved it after being awake and exhausted for hours.
You were a Christian in the truest sense of the word. You thought that God loved people, and that people were basically good, and that it was our duty to love and respect those we come into contact with. You lived this despite the horrors you saw on Iwo Jima and in Korea, and lived your life in service to your country, your family and God. You were such a gentleman, always, to those that know you. Neighbors at the Bay still remark on what a fine gentleman you were, and I couldn't agree more.
Now, Grandpa, we both know that you also weren't perfect. I used to get so mad when I'd mow your yard for two hours and you'd come out and point out the 1 foot area that I missed and make me remow it. Or when I had to surreptitiously sort the mounds of mail you received to separate the bills from the junk mail and you'd yell at me, though we eventually came to an unspoken agreement, that as long as you weren't in the room when I sorted it, you'd accept the much reduced pile as the mail you needed. Or when I didn't wash the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher at the house in town, and you'd make me redo them.
But now, those annoyances make you still real to me. I cherish those small moments, the annoyances, or little laughs, or grocery trips, that we had that connected us. I remember when I told you I had to put Penny down, and I was so afraid you'd be mad, but you looked at me with such love and said, "Katie, you do what you can." And I knew you meant it, and understood, and loved me.
I remember when, after Grandma died, I came to visit and found you over the newspaper, and you looked up and said, "I keep thinking she is still here, and I call out to her to read her something from the paper, and I remember she's gone." I thought that you two knew such love, and that that was such a blessing, and that I was so lucky to be a part of this family thread filled with love.
Most of all, I remember walking the beach at the Bay with you, as a child, when I thought you'd dug out the slough for me alone, and as an adult, when you reminisced about your first marriage, and your career, or we talked about our family history, and we laughed as we looked for shark's teeth, and I told you about my boy troubles, or work, and we just enjoyed the Bay.
You gave me so much love and joy and I learned so much from you. I miss you, but I'm mostly so grateful to have had you in my life, Grandpa. I know you didn't believe in an afterlife, but I also know that you live on in the memories of your family, and we'll never forget you.
Thanks for everything, Opa. Tonight, I'll listen to Satin Doll and Moon River, and think of you, and smile.
Love,
Katie
Dear Grandpa,
Today I made coffee in the white coffee mug with the flag pattern that you bought at the PX almost ten years ago, and I thought of you. I also thought of you when I added creamer to my coffee. I could practically hear you say, "Katie, you've adulterated a perfectly good cup of coffee with that milk." I remember you telling me about your first cup of coffee on the train to Parris Island for your Marine boot camp, and how much you loved it after being awake and exhausted for hours.
You were a Christian in the truest sense of the word. You thought that God loved people, and that people were basically good, and that it was our duty to love and respect those we come into contact with. You lived this despite the horrors you saw on Iwo Jima and in Korea, and lived your life in service to your country, your family and God. You were such a gentleman, always, to those that know you. Neighbors at the Bay still remark on what a fine gentleman you were, and I couldn't agree more.
Now, Grandpa, we both know that you also weren't perfect. I used to get so mad when I'd mow your yard for two hours and you'd come out and point out the 1 foot area that I missed and make me remow it. Or when I had to surreptitiously sort the mounds of mail you received to separate the bills from the junk mail and you'd yell at me, though we eventually came to an unspoken agreement, that as long as you weren't in the room when I sorted it, you'd accept the much reduced pile as the mail you needed. Or when I didn't wash the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher at the house in town, and you'd make me redo them.
But now, those annoyances make you still real to me. I cherish those small moments, the annoyances, or little laughs, or grocery trips, that we had that connected us. I remember when I told you I had to put Penny down, and I was so afraid you'd be mad, but you looked at me with such love and said, "Katie, you do what you can." And I knew you meant it, and understood, and loved me.
I remember when, after Grandma died, I came to visit and found you over the newspaper, and you looked up and said, "I keep thinking she is still here, and I call out to her to read her something from the paper, and I remember she's gone." I thought that you two knew such love, and that that was such a blessing, and that I was so lucky to be a part of this family thread filled with love.
Most of all, I remember walking the beach at the Bay with you, as a child, when I thought you'd dug out the slough for me alone, and as an adult, when you reminisced about your first marriage, and your career, or we talked about our family history, and we laughed as we looked for shark's teeth, and I told you about my boy troubles, or work, and we just enjoyed the Bay.
You gave me so much love and joy and I learned so much from you. I miss you, but I'm mostly so grateful to have had you in my life, Grandpa. I know you didn't believe in an afterlife, but I also know that you live on in the memories of your family, and we'll never forget you.
Thanks for everything, Opa. Tonight, I'll listen to Satin Doll and Moon River, and think of you, and smile.
Love,
Katie
Monday, February 4, 2013
I went "home" to the East coast last week. It was awesome to seem Mom and Dad and also some really amazing friends. Absence does make the heart grow fonder, and seeing my friends- and also, my mom and dad interacting with my friends- made me realize how lucky in life I've been. No, I don't have a boyfriend/husband/significant other. Nor do I have babies. Both of which I totally thought I'd have by now. But I have these amazing people in my life, whom I really don't know if I'd have had time to forge relationships with if I DID have those other things. Good thing to remember.
But then, because of a stupid burn (or a few, but whatever), I've been out of my job for a week, and have to be out for another week, which is super irritating. Actually, not even irritating, but depressing. I like my job, I like my friends at work, and I'm sad not to be able to BE THERE right now. Argh.
Anyway, just some thoughts.
But then, because of a stupid burn (or a few, but whatever), I've been out of my job for a week, and have to be out for another week, which is super irritating. Actually, not even irritating, but depressing. I like my job, I like my friends at work, and I'm sad not to be able to BE THERE right now. Argh.
Anyway, just some thoughts.
Monday, January 14, 2013
Breaking down
My body feels like it is breaking down. I managed to tear my left trapezius at a track workout, and still haven't recovered. I'm sick AGAIN, and had to call into work. I feel like I'm never going to be well. I usually have so much energy, but lately, my reserve just isn't there and it is so frustrating!! I just want to go for a run, be able to make it through 12 hour shifts and be WELL. I get so irritated with people who constantly focus on their poor health and I'm becoming one of those people. AARRRGHHH!!!!
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Eagle
Today I went for the first run of the New Year. Predictably, there were way, way, WAY more people than normal at my favorite running spot around Greenlake in Seattle. I've heard people snarkily poo-poo the people that resolve to get out at the beginning of the year, spending time outside, or at the gym, and (this is what really eats them up) taking up what "the regulars" think of as "their" space, as though the people who are making the first effort towards health are less worthy of the gym equipment or running space or whatever than those who've been at it more consistently. I think that's crap. Everyone has to start somewhere, and the New Year is a natural time for reflection in our society. So as I veered around 5 times the amount of traffic at Greenlake, I smiled. Thank goodness everyone was outside, enjoying the beautiful day, with friends and family. Better to be making a fresh start of it, and enjoying the day, than sitting at home on the couch, not using your body. And I think that today, nature agreed with me, because for the first time since I came back to this city I love, a bald eagle was perched in the top of a pine tree at Greenlake, and there were so many people out to see his (maybe her?) magnificence. So thanks, eagle, for sharing yourself with all of us on a beautiful winter's day in Seattle.
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