tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37746656492231206902024-03-05T15:57:23.091-08:00Raindrops on Roses Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.comBlogger227125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-78441533075918651612016-02-19T15:24:00.000-08:002016-02-19T15:27:49.359-08:00The Garden.Phytoremediation. That's a big word. I'm probably not pronouncing it right. I'll get there. It only took me a week to say cadmium correctly. Phytoremediation is the term used to describe using plants to clean soil of contaminates. Certain plants suck certain things right out of the ground and help clean up bad patches. It's fairly affordable, low impact, and can be really pretty. Making beautiful out of ugly.<br />
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As I find myself learning about phytoremediation I'm really wishing I'd taken those Master Gardner classes I thought about BC (before child). See that table below (borrowed from <a href="http://www.geoengineer.org/education/web-based-class-projects/geoenvironmental-remediation-technologies/phytoremediation?showall=1&limitstart=" target="_blank">HERE</a>), I know just enough to recognize some elements and some root plant names, but not enough to just know what to go get for my yard. So I'm researching. I've heard and seen some things that say lupine, sunflowers, some types of ferns, and even hydrangea are good at pulling contaminates from soil. So it looks like I'll have a wacky looking garden this year, but it's going to be full of colorful flowers. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKGzvUR4jajukzk_mUy_2gKVtp5i5fdpIWetLkVmeVytu5FqzPIOZwTEdmm_ZJWOvjof0p6LZrIZVuuswao-CUCgaUhP-rPWrs3C2yuEM4ywt1m6jjNiO4TQx828d4Jc6IS1QkQjg0yTI/s1600/plants.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKGzvUR4jajukzk_mUy_2gKVtp5i5fdpIWetLkVmeVytu5FqzPIOZwTEdmm_ZJWOvjof0p6LZrIZVuuswao-CUCgaUhP-rPWrs3C2yuEM4ywt1m6jjNiO4TQx828d4Jc6IS1QkQjg0yTI/s400/plants.jpg" title="Table 1. Phytoremediation processes, mechanisms, and related pollutants/plant species (Gupta et al, 2000)" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; color: #444444; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20.4px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: start;">Table 1. Phytoremediation processes, mechanisms, <br />and related pollutants/plant species (Gupta et al, 2000</b></td></tr>
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Now that I think about it, it makes sense. Hydrangeas can change color based on the pH levels in soil. If you want a blue hydrangea you need to add aluminum to the soil. To get a pink hydrangea there must be no aluminum in the soil. Can you guess what color the hydrangeas in my yard are? They are not pink! From what I understand they never will be. It's a little like that experiment we all did as kids with food coloring and carnations. In fact Sugar's class just did that experiment a few weeks ago, right about the time this story broke. They were trapped inside because they were not allowed to play in the contaminated soil, and they needed indoor activities.<br />
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It seems like this idea is still kind of new in that it's not all over the Google. I totally thought it would be. Even digging, I had trouble finding lists of other plants that might work. I'm going to keep working on it. It seems like a good way to do some passive good. Maybe I will just drop seeds all over the place.<br />
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Maybe I can be the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00V2QS19I/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?ie=UTF8&btkr=1" target="_blank">Miss Rumphius</a> of my neighborhood. Not a bad thing to aspire to.<br />
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Ok, my brain hurts from all the science. I leave you with pretty. Because we can still find pretty on dark days.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh7kCxUma2T-ArQidxXvGvlRHN2iGMW_id8kPKMdGrZG5eop5fBd6BJxU2nfjiTh34EykaXN8qvjDdZiDms9tD4r7eGEDEwQkk6_DBEyNYPpXmr-UYHESQlLWpB1WIWXM1-JomtZvwF18/s1600/LUPINE-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="416" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh7kCxUma2T-ArQidxXvGvlRHN2iGMW_id8kPKMdGrZG5eop5fBd6BJxU2nfjiTh34EykaXN8qvjDdZiDms9tD4r7eGEDEwQkk6_DBEyNYPpXmr-UYHESQlLWpB1WIWXM1-JomtZvwF18/s640/LUPINE-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-3691115307250275512016-02-17T14:29:00.000-08:002016-02-17T15:11:36.495-08:00The Letter.<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; padding: 0px !important;">
I write today because I know there is a possibility you will begin using toxic metals in your production process again before installing filtration systems. If this is true, if you will again use arsenic, cadmium, or chromium, the elements you suspended for health concerns, then you are willingly and knowledgeably poisoning my child and many others who attend the CCLC childcare center. You are willingly and knowledgeably poising my home, my neighbor’s homes, and countless other family’s homes. You do this knowing the levels you are spewing from your furnaces are dangerous. Despite the fact that it fits into the grossly negligent permit given to you by DEQ, you know.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I was quoted on the news last night saying I didn’t want you to go out of business. It’s true. I support the arts. I support business. I support employees who need a paycheck and take pride in what they do. I don’t want your company to go out of business. I want you to install systems that will allow you to work alongside your neighbors in a safe way. I want you to invest in systems that protect you as a business and protect the air my child breathes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Don’t tell me it costs too much. Don’t tell me it would take time. Don’t tell me it’s difficult. None of those are valid responses. If you enter into an industry that deals with toxic elements you must be prepared to deal with the full cost and impact of those elements.<o:p></o:p></div>
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As I type this people are working to clean up this neighborhood. CCLC has taken steps to clean play areas for children, they are looking to remove dirt and grass and replace it with something new, something lacking toxic metals. Neighbors have started replacing the dirt in their gardens; spring is just around the corner. If you were to start production without a proper filter again, those efforts are all for naught. You will have undone the hard and expensive work done to protect my child. Please don’t do this. Don’t endanger her more. I am already not sleeping, I can’t take more worry. This has disrupted our life in ways you can't imagine.<o:p></o:p></div>
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If you are not willing to halt production until the measures can be taken I’d like to invite you over to dinner, in my home. We can have a talk about the little playhouse that sits in the back corner of our yard, a spot for my two year old to play and grow her own flowers. We can sit in the back yard and look at the decades old apple tree; producing apples that my dogs love to pull off the branch and eat. I can show you the rose bushes planted by the elderly couple who lived here before us. They had a large garden too. He died of lung cancer. We can have a lovely meal, but it won’t come from my once thriving garden. I wouldn’t want to poison you.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I know you are not the only polluter in Portland. I hear you accusing others. I see them too. My eyes are open now. I will write similar letters to them. My urgency today is you though. You are willfully endangering my child, her development and overall health. You endanger my family pets that love us unconditionally and can’t be told not to go outside. You endanger me, the caretaker of a family that needs me. You endanger countless others. If you put those metals back into production, you do this knowing you are potentially harming people. That is not being a good neighbor. That is not being a good human.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Just install the filters. Invest in your neighborhood. I think you’ll find that we’re a pretty friendly group when you aren’t actively poisoning us.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Sincerely,<o:p></o:p></div>
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Erin Meeker<o:p></o:p></div>
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Mother, Wife, Daughter, Neighbor, Friend<o:p></o:p></div>
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SE 27<sup>th</sup> & Gladstone</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLegIxKpjXFYsujG_jFaPnsd2cdj53r6mKozoOLV60uKel3b1E9CrmRkEiuPqMzYtRXKGv6gHYYEKzPHPLqv3F535KPZTXRmPhgUB6zjRQqPog9jiCNCNVTIMz4jAph1JR8OXRu4fWN8I/s1600/protest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="499" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLegIxKpjXFYsujG_jFaPnsd2cdj53r6mKozoOLV60uKel3b1E9CrmRkEiuPqMzYtRXKGv6gHYYEKzPHPLqv3F535KPZTXRmPhgUB6zjRQqPog9jiCNCNVTIMz4jAph1JR8OXRu4fWN8I/s640/protest.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Mark Colman</td></tr>
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Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-41457869864677700262016-02-16T14:09:00.000-08:002016-02-19T15:26:12.662-08:00The Guilt.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2gz_l4Y54cqdquj0lEppz34YRJwp_Lh30AjCyCswTMd5ZSgG-sRcW5TbsqHPcE98ez7iaAY1No0HP1-u57gjxPwbj39B5iUKeh6cs74RktU0WHqZW8jkUIwb_pXQM56JtPmAuHybL2jQ/s1600/Image-1.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2gz_l4Y54cqdquj0lEppz34YRJwp_Lh30AjCyCswTMd5ZSgG-sRcW5TbsqHPcE98ez7iaAY1No0HP1-u57gjxPwbj39B5iUKeh6cs74RktU0WHqZW8jkUIwb_pXQM56JtPmAuHybL2jQ/s320/Image-1.png" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From May of 2015, before we knew.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I took Sugar (my daughter, her nickname for this blog) to
the park yesterday. It was a rainy wet
day. She wanted to ride the merry go
round. I let her climb on, and just as her hands grabbed onto the metal bar I
thought, I bet that’s covered in arsenic and cadmium and chromium. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It likely wasn’t. The rain had probably washed it away.
Probably.<o:p></o:p></div>
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But there I was, at the park with my toddler, thinking about
toxic metals. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It’s our neighborhood park.
A five minute walk from our house.
It’s not the nicest park in the city.
Not even close. It borders Powell Boulevard, so it’s get a lot of loud
traffic, some vagrants, probably some unsavory visitors. But it’s still our
park. And the merry go round is pretty damn fun for a two year old. So we go. <o:p></o:p></div>
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But I’m mad that a trip to the park results in me
questioning what she touches. What I’m touching. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Now there is a certain amount of guilt associated with allowing my
child to go to the park. If I let her
go, she may be exposed to more things. The dirt is dirty. Like really dirty. <o:p></o:p></div>
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What if she eats it, as she is prone to do when she plays in
it, then picks her nose, and eats it? She’s two, we’re working on it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Do we stay inside? Do we avoid the park, the sidewalk? Do we hide? How do I explain that to my child who wants to play?</div>
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Then that guilt snowballs. And maybe it’s just me, but I
suspect there are many other parents in our area feeling like this right now. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We picked our house because of the large yard, the view of
the west hills, the easy access to downtown, the hardwood floors tucked under
the worn carpet. We didn’t have children then. We only dreamed about the possibility. Now there is overwhelming, irrational yet overwhelming guilt that I picked this house and my child lives in it. My dogs spend hours in the yard, rolling in
and eating the dirt. My entire family
has eaten sugar snap peas and strawberries straight out of the yard. I picked
this!<o:p></o:p></div>
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We picked Sugar’s childcare center because it was close, around the
corner. The facility was bright and full of happy faces. They have documented curriculum.
They have outdoor play areas, lots of them. Now there is overwhelming guilt
that I picked a place where her outside time included incredibly high levels of
metal toxics in the air. At times <a href="http://www.deq.state.or.us/nwr/docs/PowellSE22nddata.pdf" target="_blank">165 times higher than recommended baselines for cadmium</a>. Do you know what that
breaks down to? 1 in 6060 people getting cancer. But then consider that children are
considered more susceptible. I picked this!<o:p></o:p></div>
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DEQ and OHA will tell you that those numbers only matter at
a 24 hour exposure, over a lifetime. Well folks, my kid does spend 24 hours a
day in her neighborhood. And while she hasn’t lived her life out, it’s been her
lifetime thus far. <o:p></o:p></div>
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So guilt. Lots of guilt. Cry in my car on the way to pick
her up guilt. Tossing and turning in bed
guilt. Guilt. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I know we didn’t make our choices with the knowledge that
something terrible was in the air. But I still feel guilty.<o:p></o:p></div>
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As some not so kind people on FB have pointed out to me, I
am twit for living where I do. Now bear
with me, I know I’m not a twit, but I can follow some train of thought here. I
choose to live in an inner SE neighborhood that has always had some form of
industry in it. The train horns I so love to listen to at night carry with them
pollution. I drove past this glass company
every single day for the ten years we’ve lived here and never really thought
too much about what they do or how they do it. There was a metal smelting plant
years ago, now an empty lot. The man that lived in our house years before us
worked there. He died of lung cancer. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Guilt. <o:p></o:p></div>
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You can see why the guilt starts to add up. What have we done? <o:p></o:p></div>
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But then I think about this company. That they knew. They
claim they did not. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ve said this many times in the last few weeks: <o:p></o:p></div>
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How can you shovel arsenic/cadmium/hexavalent chromium into
a furnace and not think that something bad will come of it? How?<o:p></o:p></div>
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So they blatantly let things go. They decided not to install
filters that would capture the particulates they were releasing into the air. They let us trust them to do that. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I just blindly trusted them. Guilty as charged. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Now I know better. <o:p></o:p></div>
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But I still feel guilt that is hard to explain. Hard to reconcile. And it's all day long. And it eats at you. And there is nothing within my power, right this moment that can fix it. Nothing. I feel helpless to fix this because the damage is done. <o:p></o:p></div>
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As if parenting didn’t carry daily guilt with it. Now I will
always worry that a harmless cough is really something more. </div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
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Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-70867866002106847322016-02-16T11:55:00.000-08:002016-02-16T11:55:30.681-08:00The beginning.<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s hard to know where to even start. Forgive me, if at time this post rambles. My head swims with too much information and
data these days. It’s hard to process that, and feelings, and still keep things
in check. When you wake up one morning, things are normal, you go about your day, then come home to news that your
child has been exposed to heavy metal air pollutants, your head comes as close
to exploding as I think it can.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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I guess I should back up a little. This blog was started in
2008. My life was very different. I wrote about all sorts of things. Crafts,
food, parties, infertility, running, my love of Portland, etc. It evolved into many things over the years,
and then I stopped writing. Sometimes your brain goes silent. Those posts are
all still here, archived, but hidden for now, as I want to focus on life
now. I won’t erase them, they may come
back even, but for now I need to talk about what’s happening right now. Like I
really need to talk. I don’t want to burden my Facebook timeline with these
thoughts because I know some will tire of it, and stop listening. So I want to
post here, where people can choose to read or not. This blog was my outlet for
many things, now I will use it to spill my guts about what’s going on. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“What’s going on?” you might ask. Well lots. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPIQHUXILnxeDFNY_Z5nZDsEPB4YpJFxjQKbMNB4QsPODc2REnmY0946ie7VtBp9-Gpscj_NaezBaBqKT5km-Pde_JP78QTw-HY5wMhRdeLIqF1hlFLmiWJBQ4lAM8U1DO5_XcF4ey0Y0/s1600/Bullseye.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPIQHUXILnxeDFNY_Z5nZDsEPB4YpJFxjQKbMNB4QsPODc2REnmY0946ie7VtBp9-Gpscj_NaezBaBqKT5km-Pde_JP78QTw-HY5wMhRdeLIqF1hlFLmiWJBQ4lAM8U1DO5_XcF4ey0Y0/s400/Bullseye.jpg" width="400" /></a>February 2<sup>nd</sup>, 2016 is a day that I’ll likely
never forget. It’s the day our childcare provider informed us that DEQ had been
conducting air pollutant tests in the parking lot adjacent to the facility. This facility is also around the corner from my home.<o:p></o:p></div>
Those tests revealed higher than normal levels for arsenic and cadmium. They urged calm as they further assessed. I
don’t know about you but when someone urges me to remain calm I often do the
exact opposite. So I started reading, and researching. DEQ posted a press
release, then took it down, then reposted a smaller one with less information.
Right from the start things seemed off. We went to a meeting facilitated by CCLC (our
childcare center) where DEQ, Oregon Health Authority (OHA), and corporate
officers from CCLC came to speak with us. We left that meeting with more
questions than answers. DEQ and OHA were
what I would call evasive, or perhaps poorly prepared to answer hard questions.
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When parents are afraid, they will ask hard questions. Mama
Bear activates the instant my child is at risk whether that be from a bump
falling off the slide, or arsenic being inhaled into her lungs. My Mama Bear
was off the charts, but I tried to remain calm. That's what they told me to do! It’s hard to do that when you
learn that DEQ has known about these harmful pollutants for years and failed to
follow up on what was causing them, and where, geographically it was coming
from. With ten seconds I was able to use a search engine to find who uses those
metals. It was fairly easy to put it together. So why did no one do anything? Why can a
company do this? How could they not have known? How bad is it? How often does
it happen? <o:p></o:p></div>
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So many questions. <o:p></o:p></div>
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But it boils down to this. It’s legal. What that company
did, and is likely still doing with other toxic elements, is legal. <o:p></o:p></div>
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DEQ can’t do anything. The company is working within the
limits of its permit. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The company has blatantly abused its neighbors trust.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I will always wonder.
Even if we are not sick now, I will always wonder. Our bodies are
ticking time bombs. There is no MacGyver
to swoop in with a paper clip and some chewing gum to fix this. This is more
like a MacGruber situation. Google that
if you need to. Comic relief…kind of. <o:p></o:p></div>
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As I write subsequent posts I will try to include data and
cite references where needed. I’m not a
professional though, so I might screw that up sometimes. You may also see me make what seem like
really inappropriate jokes. That’s how I deal sometimes. If I can’t laugh I
might cry. I cry enough so I think I’ll try to laugh if/when I can. Please don’t take offense. Despite my jokes,
I take this very seriously. Frankly, I
will probably write mostly about how this feels emotionally, with a tiny side
of science and a dash of legal. Because emotions are what are impacting me the
greatest at this moment. I mean, it all
impacts me, but the emotions are hard to grapple with. Really hard.
And honestly there are some freaking brilliant, dedicated neighbors, who
have taken this on. My neighborhood is in very capable hands. Like rock star hands. I don’t know that I’m in a place to offer them
anything except appreciation. They are that good!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Most importantly, thank you for reading this. If people
listen and learn then maybe another community won’t have to deal with crap like
this. Maybe other children won’t be exposed to cancer causing heavy metals. Maybe the teachers who spend hours caring for
them won’t have to worry about their own health. Maybe your neighbors will
never wonder if the kale they grew in their organic gardens will actually kill
them someday. Maybe. <o:p></o:p></div>
Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-19150012794715166792014-03-04T15:51:00.000-08:002017-02-07T20:37:55.136-08:00Hello...is there anybody out there?I don't really know what to say except HELLO!<br />
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Obviously it's been a while. </div>
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Life has been pretty full the last year and a half. Yes, it's been that long since I last posted. Seems kind of crazy. I can remember a time when this blog was updated on a fairly regular basis and it goes all the way back to 2008. I just read through a sampling of all those posts for old times sake. It's fun and also strange to go back and see the person you were six years ago. Our struggles with infertility obviously were a common theme, as were our travels and just daily life. But then I just let it go. I think I felt like I wasn't positive anymore and it's no fun to keep forcing your friends to read about your sadness or lack of fun. To be honest there was a good year or so where I was just in a bit of a dark cloud. Nothing too serious but certainly a noticeable time of quiet, reflection and even healing. I've come out the other side of that, back to my sometimes obnoxiously perky self. Sometimes you just need time to get that inner cheerleader back.</div>
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I had planned to do a complete reboot of this blog, wipe it clean, start new and fresh, but I can't. I decided I need to leave those old posts because as I read them I got to remember some things that are easy to forget, easy to let go, even though they were a huge part of my life for so long. </div>
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So Raindrops on Roses will get a face lift and the themes may change but all that old stuff is going to stick around for now. </div>
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If you're still here reading, after all these years I want to say thank you. I hope there are still a few of you out there. If so you can look forward to some new fun posts and photos. I've got a new take on life.</div>
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It is hard to explain, but the birth of my baby girl has made me want to find ways to share joy, to make people feel good, and to make even my little corner of the world a better place. And yes, you read that right. If you didn't already know I was blessed beyond measure this past September when Sugar was born. Don't worry, we didn't actually name her Sugar, it's just what I call her. So yes, friends, if you've been here from the start you know this is a pretty damn big deal. I'll probably write a post about it later, but let me say this. She's awesome. Like beyond awesome. In ways I didn't know existed. It turns out my inability to make babies for so long turned into one SUPER baby when it was all said and done. </div>
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Okay, enough with the sappy, lovey dovey, mushy emotional fest! Even though she's super awesome she still fills a diaper and cries at 3am!<br />
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Look for a fancy, pretty update in the next few weeks and hopefully a more active blog in general!<br />
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Loves,<br />
Erin</div>
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Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-78023184989346877742012-10-23T18:47:00.002-07:002017-02-07T20:39:40.290-08:00Weekend Fun TimesThis weekend was a busy one, but so incredibly fun.
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I was lucky enough to get a quick visit with my friend Cindy and two of her girlfriends who were in town to check out the Portland food scene. They invited me to join them for dinner and breakfast and we had a lovely time, not to mention some delicious food. These girls are my kind of people! They had a list of restaurants to try and it was so complete (and long!) you'd think they were locals. They did their research. I think they'll have to come back though, just too many restaurants, not enough time. </div>
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I did get to take them to one of my favorite breakfast spots, Bread and Ink on Hawthorne. They had the Waffle Window on their list (I'm seriously in love with the WW) but we opted to sit inside the main restaurant and enjoy the full breakfast that Bread and Ink offers. It was, as always, a delight. We all shared our dishes and left fully stuffed. Roll me out the door stuffed. </div>
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My Eggs Benedict from Bread and Ink - Pretty freaking delish! Great Hollandaise!</div>
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In addition to the whirlwind food tour I helped put on a Zombie Birthoween Party on Saturday night. It was a pretty awesome event. Almost every guest showed up in some form of the undead along with one cute little Zom-bee! We had jello shots in syringes to serve as our vaccines. I think we got everyone who came but be careful, if we missed one or two you might see a zombie or two roaming the streets of PDX!<br />
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Jello shots! Get it? Shots! Yes I'm a nerd.</div>
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The birthday girl had a hard time not being a smiling zombie.</div>
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My SIL the vaccine administrator trying to get me. She wins for best, freakiest costume!</div>
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It was truly a great weekend filled with friends. What more can one ask for really?</div>
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Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-54251125163082080832012-10-19T06:32:00.000-07:002017-02-07T20:39:40.268-08:00Updates<br />
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A quick update since I have been absent from this blog...</div>
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The last few months have been exceedingly busy with not one, but TWO new puppies. We brought Brady home in late February. He was the snuggliest, sweetest little ball of fur I've ever had the pleasure of knowing let alone owning. He was such a joy that we decided we should get him a brother or sister to play with (When we lost Olivia the dog in April we had a moment of crisis where we decided it should be another puppy, this is evidence that we are crazy people). In July we brought Ella home. She was the tiniest little thing on the farm and was so flipping adorable I just knew she was the one. It has been quite the adventure ever since. Unlike her brother she is very opinionated, very brave and she eats everything in site. They are both a delight and I never get tired of coming home to two little wagging tails. </div>
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Beyond the puppies (Like we talk about anything else?? Yes we've become THOSE people) life has been busy with work and fun. The summer here in Oregon was smashing! Sunshine every single day. No really, we went months without any rain. This sunshine girl was loving life. Scott of course worked really long hours this summer but he was able to enjoy a few bbq's and even a few Saturdays off. Now we head into Fall and Winter and I'm looking forward to baking apple crisps and prepping for the holidays. I'm quite content. </div>
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Which brings me to another subject...</div>
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For years this blog was something of a journal for me as we negotiated the roller coaster that is infertility. Hopes, dreams, challenges, anger, frustration, all out on the line. It was a place to share, to vent, to meet others who also shared our struggles/dreams. It served it's purpose well but now that time has passed. While Scott and I would still very much like to be parents, we are not in pursuit the way we once were. It is not a dream dashed, more like a dream changed? It's hard to explain really but I feel okay about it. Perhaps we will have children, perhaps not. On the advice of a friend from many years go I prayed to God that he remove the longing from my heart if it was not meant to be. For the few months following that request I really made peace with the idea that we might not be parents. There was a calming in my heart. It is also hard to explain but for the first time in a really long time I felt freed from the constant need to have a baby. I can even be joyful for people when they announce a pregnancy. That was always something I really had to work at in the past and I was not always successful. Who knows what will happen in the future? For now I am content. I haven't been that way in many, many years and it feels really good. </div>
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So moving forward I'm not really sure what all I'll blog about but I am going to really make an effort to do more. I really enjoy it. I miss writing in general. I took a class last year and was reintroduced to the creativity and fun it brings. I'm also working on a few art/print projects that will eventually be the base of my Etsy store. I'll keep you updated when that happens!</div>
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So if you're still here, and still reading, thanks for following me all along. It is really nice to know you're out there. </div>
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I leave you with pictures of our current babies...</div>
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Brady, my handsome, quiet and gentle boy.</div>
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Ella, my adventurous, curious, and silly baby.</div>
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Two peas in a pod!</div>
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Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-19821702039243250872012-08-04T14:32:00.000-07:002017-02-07T20:37:36.928-08:00Water BabyToday I sucked it up and put on my Speedo swimsuit. I mean it, I really sucked it up. I had to to get the dang thing on. It's been a while. Swimsuits built for real swimming are tight. Think sausage casing. Oy.
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We've been watching the Olympics and I got all excited talking to Scott about flip turns and backstroke side to side movement and snapping on a swim cap, the smell of the pool. I was a little fired up. </div>
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When I swam in high school I was pretty good. Not great. I was a freshman that struggled at first with the amount of swimming I was being asked to do. Swimming had always come naturally to me. Family legend says I learned to swim before I learned to walk. Eventually I got used to the seemingly endless practices and did well in my races. Backstroke was my stroke. I loved it. I did individual races and medley relays. My very last race I had a PR and felt something similar to runners high. I remember Coach Z getting all excited about my time and telling me it wouldn't take much to move me up to varsity. To a freshman that's pretty huge. Unfortunately we moved a few weeks later and Oregon high schools do swimming in a different season so there was no team to join, plus it was inside. I remember thinking, who swims inside?? Such a spoiled sun baby. </div>
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I never swam in a race again. I tried track and had lost my interest in the hurdles and dashes. Then I found cheerleading and it was all consuming. Yeah I was that girl who walked around the grocery store practicing chants, much to my mothers embarrassment. </div>
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So I hadn't jumped into a pool for a real workout for the first time in about seventeen or eighteen years. </div>
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My arms are the tired achy that feels good. My thighs are going to be sore tomorrow. My skin has that tight dry feeling you get after a lot of time in the water. It's totally awesome and I'm so going back tomorrow. </div>
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That nagging foot injury that's been keeping me out of my running shoes doesn't hurt in the pool. Plus I just feel good in the water, even if I was inside on a beautiful sunny day.</div>
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Now if I could just keep the hairy gross guys coming out of the sauna or steam room to stay out of the pool it would be perfect. </div>
Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-37457221827157446772012-06-05T15:28:00.000-07:002017-02-07T20:39:40.262-08:00If puppies had online dating ads...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Name: Brady Bruschi Meeker</div>
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Birthdate : 1/2/12</div>
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Favorite Food: String Cheese</div>
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Favorite Toy: Cabella's Duck </div>
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Favorite Football Team: New England Patriots</div>
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Nicknames: Little Man, Bubba, Sh*tbag, The Water Buffalo</div>
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Parents: Scott and Erin</div>
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Hey there, I'm Brady the Brittany. I'm a five month old lovebug (even though my mom says I am a monster) looking for a lap to snuggle in. Do you like to snuggle? You should come over, we can watch a dog show or maybe Animal Planet and share a blanket. The couch is pretty comfy!</div>
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I'm currently living in SE Portland at some pretty sweet digs. I've got a huge yard that I love to run in, dig in, and throw my toys around in. When I'm not lounging on the couch you can probably find me chewing on a bone or begging to go for a walk. I've even started trying to open the front door myself so I can just go. My mom's not too happy about that but I think once I figure it out and actually get the door open she'll be so proud of me she won't mind a bit! She's not too fond of me eating her gerbera daises though. I've been in trouble for it lots but they are just at my highth and such pretty colors. How am I supposed to resist? And really, look at ME, how can someone resist me??</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQhfUZjRtLCjvjmXDYGpkMKq6xz7LYJxr5wlwHE7bwWPCoFX_1Z5EoP9qSjRDYDfk6Z4G2Y71fFPaZzSYDPTBeXd0tbymPZq9EGdR6VdBK48vgVhyphenhyphenZ9JQFANAjT3RZBVAIfy_220hfZZk/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQhfUZjRtLCjvjmXDYGpkMKq6xz7LYJxr5wlwHE7bwWPCoFX_1Z5EoP9qSjRDYDfk6Z4G2Y71fFPaZzSYDPTBeXd0tbymPZq9EGdR6VdBK48vgVhyphenhyphenZ9JQFANAjT3RZBVAIfy_220hfZZk/s400/photo.JPG" width="298" /></a></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-88180053694163713092012-05-20T11:32:00.000-07:002017-02-07T20:39:40.296-08:00That time I ran a half marathon without training...**just a note that I know I haven't posted here in months, sometimes I lack the focus or passion to write things out, but I'll try to be better**
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This weekend I ran my second half marathon, the inaugural Portland Rock 'N' Roll . I'd signed up for it months ago (September?) after best friend convinced me to. Strangely enough she scheduled a trip to Utah for the same weekend so ended up not running it with me. It worked out okay though, a co-worker was signed up too and it turns out we're well suited to run together pace wise. Another friend found me in the coral before the race and joined us. It was fun to have some running buddies. Also, Kara Goucher ran in this race. I can say I ran a race with Kara Goucher, how rad is that?</div>
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I didn't prepare for this race like I did last years Helvetia. In part due to a neck injury and then the flu, but mostly just my own laziness. This resulted in a less than stellar time but I had a great time, felt great throughout and still feel good now, hours later. And honestly, I was only 9 minutes slower than my time last year which I really, really trained for. I think this is a testament to how my body is in better shape overall. This makes me feel super proud of myself and encourages me to go out for my next half in five weeks.</div>
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The course was beautiful. There were hills, but that meant we had some awesome downhills. We snaked through SE PDX which is a real treat compared to the usual Portland races. There was a little rain to keep us cool, some awesome bands to listen to, great cheerleaders and one very supportive husband who used his only day off this week to come out and cheer me on at not one, but two different spots. He brought along our friend Josh and the puppy and it meant the world to see them standing there waiting for us. </div>
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Overall it was a fabulous run. I was chipper the whole time and didn't get really drained until the last mile but I was able to push through that. I even found that my breath control was better than normal. I could actually talk while running?!? The event was well staffed and ran very smoothly (except for the three little stops for traffic). I loved how they had every mile marked. The water/aid stations were very well staffed and the post race medal/recovery area was perfect. Seriously great run. </div>
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I'm back in my groove. I'd forgotten that I liked running. </div>
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Funny Race Quote - As we came down Multnomah Blvd I could smell someone cooking breakfast. I was ravenously hungry at this point (mile 11) and it smelled so good. Very loudly I proclaimed "Do you smell that bacon? Oh that bacon smells so good right now" only to see my friend Tina's horrified face as I finished my sentence. Apparently we were also just passing a cop on his motorcycle and there is no way he didn't hear me. Oops! Sorry Mr. Officer, I was really just excited about the food and meant no disrespect!</div>
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This medal is awesome. It's heavy and sparkly and it's all mine!</div>
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<br /></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-55733877568475284532012-05-14T14:41:00.000-07:002017-02-07T20:39:40.271-08:00I am so <strike>terrified</strike> EXCITED about the half marathon I will run in six days. I found myself analyzing the elevation chart today and I happy to say that the last half is downhill. Unfortunately that means the first half is nearly all uphill. I can only hope the good people who live and work on Hawthorne will be generous with the <strike>alcohol</strike> water they hand out and cheer us crazy people on as we <strike>limp</strike> run though their pretty neighborhood.Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-62370628731673735032012-02-08T18:08:00.001-08:002017-02-07T20:39:40.281-08:00They have ATM's in the jungle?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Actun Tunichil Muknal is the ATM in the jungles of Belize. Actun Tunichil Muknal translates into "</span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Cave of the Stone Sepulcher". I had to look up sepulcher. It's a $2 word. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="hw" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold; text-align: -webkit-auto;">sep·ul·cher</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </span><object classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,0,0" height="21" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 1px; margin-left: 1px; margin-right: 1px; margin-top: 1px; text-align: -webkit-auto;" width="13"><embed src="http://img.tfd.com/m/sound.swf" flashvars="sound_src=http://img.tfd.com/hm/mp3/S0275600.mp3" menu="false" width="13" height="21" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"></object><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </span><span class="pron" style="background-color: white; border-bottom-color: rgb(128, 158, 131); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; cursor: pointer; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">(s<img align="absbottom" src="http://img.tfd.com/hm/GIF/ebreve.gif" />p<img align="absbottom" src="http://img.tfd.com/hm/GIF/prime.gif" /><img align="absbottom" src="http://img.tfd.com/hm/GIF/schwa.gif" />l-k<img align="absbottom" src="http://img.tfd.com/hm/GIF/schwa.gif" />r)</span></div><div class="pseg" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><i>n.</i><div class="ds-list" style="margin-left: 1cm;"><b>1. </b>A burial vault.</div><div class="ds-list" style="margin-left: 1cm;"><b>2. </b>A receptacle for sacred relics, especially in an altar</div><div class="ds-list" style="margin-left: 1cm;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Yep, a cave with a burial vault and sacred relics! We went there! We were totally Indiana Jones minus the bad nazi people chasing us. And we had a guide with us so someone else walked into the cobwebs first. But I'm getting ahead of myself here. Let's start over.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When we first started researching our trip to Belize I ran across a blog someone had written about a crystal maiden. Intrigued I did some more reading and learned about the cave outside of San Ignacio that had been discovered in 1992. Only specifically trained guides are allowed to take visitors into this cave and it's quite the experience. You can't just walk right in and have a little hike. This is much more of an adventure. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We knew we only had the time and money for one adventure while we were staying in the Cayo District and we decided this was going to be it. We'd really wanted to visit Tikal in Guatemala but ultimately decided that we should do the physical excursion while we were still young enough to do it, plus it sounded so amazing it was hard to resist even if the physical challenge made me a bit nervous. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Our Friday morning began with six strangers in a van driven by Oscar who worked for Pacz tours. Oscar was a friendly guy and really good about pointing out things along the long, bumpy road out to the park area where the hike begins. We made introductions with the other travelers in our party as we bounced along in the van. We made a quick stop at a little store out in the middle of no where. It's the last spot to use a flushing toilet and grab a snack. There were chickens and dogs all over and locals just hanging out. Kind of an odd set up but I had to go so I paid my $1BZD ($.50USD) to use the potty. I had to walk up a little concrete incline that was surrounded by some cinder blocks. I recognized the area immediately from the description the guy at the pool had given us. This is where he fell. Yikes, he didn't even make it to the park entrance?!?! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After we piled back into the van we were on our way to parking area where all the tours embark on the hike. Oscar made sure we had the right footwear on and asked a few questions, like "does everyone here know how to swim?". Scott and I are good swimmers and we had out trusty Keen sandals on so we were ready to go. We left our dry clothes in the van, grabbed our helmets and followed along behind Oscar and his trusty machete. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The hike is fairly easy in that it's flat. It's only about 1.3 miles long so very manageable. The difficulty lies in the mud you are walking on. It's slippery. You can put your foot down and think it's going to slide one way and it will go the complete opposite. You can't reach out to catch your balance because you might just grab onto the bamboo with three inch thorns on it. I was able to keep up by trying to watch where Oscar was putting his feet and looking for the most compact ground. It wasn't terrible, just a little tricky. We also had to cross the river three times. the first time you go across it's waist deep in fairly slow water, the second is knee deep in swifter water and the third is knee deep again in even swifter water. It wasn't too cold, in fact it's refreshing after walking in the hot humid day.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMa1oFOPJO2XmDR26gb6vSLpecCDrQo5e-ziSk-Ocy-0WF7SjeHAnNt-ZVzVhRj1SX8e0cWxAh5VnlEznMH0f3nB1y_yVTFPpqUW4ZuoL6a95DHUhrhgUric1QabJGuIYq1hfTFx2_g4g/s1600/DSC03661.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMa1oFOPJO2XmDR26gb6vSLpecCDrQo5e-ziSk-Ocy-0WF7SjeHAnNt-ZVzVhRj1SX8e0cWxAh5VnlEznMH0f3nB1y_yVTFPpqUW4ZuoL6a95DHUhrhgUric1QabJGuIYq1hfTFx2_g4g/s320/DSC03661.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1gReOEsjISsQhyXVotf2mYG79bUa60LxhGKE-D-3XzuB3ViTAOPXwkDGiOVhWvSx8n168y-odwKUp-PqfpPeX3mVjBsb7Y-xxVLREhbYQqaE2SdNSr9winDsBBXzafbSj-UCXIao8Yhk/s1600/DSC03789.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1gReOEsjISsQhyXVotf2mYG79bUa60LxhGKE-D-3XzuB3ViTAOPXwkDGiOVhWvSx8n168y-odwKUp-PqfpPeX3mVjBsb7Y-xxVLREhbYQqaE2SdNSr9winDsBBXzafbSj-UCXIao8Yhk/s320/DSC03789.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-82539031573261557592012-02-02T16:34:00.000-08:002017-02-07T20:39:40.293-08:00You could feel the liquid hanging in the air...Ahhh humidity! Usually my arch nemesis. Any weather element that can make my normally straight hair miraculously turn itself into a ball of frizzy fluff closely resembling a Persian cat who has licked an electrical outlet is no friend of mine.<br />
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</div><div>Except today. Today I spent 25 minutes in a hot, steamy, humid shower in an effort to break up the gunk that has come to live in my respiratory system since our return home. While standing in the shower breathing in as much steam as one can suck down the one nostril that is still unclogged I got to thinking about the humidity in Belize. </div><div><br />
</div><div>When we arrived there Scott and I both still had the remnants of a nasty cold we'd caught about a week before we got on the plane. Somehow we both now have the same damn colds again. Blech. Thankfully the first round faded rather quickly and I'm certain that the humidity helped. While not the most humid place I've ever been...I have family in Southern Illinois folks and spent my summers there...Belize was pretty humid. Sleeping in our open air casita was like having a little humidifier running in our room. Just what colds need for that feel better mojo. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcqwTjbVnYULXwbJ3rLpdn0Kougi2L-HPI7qgJu0yCDCAvQ3QYdQz_J0Vrj3xkNvrh1GGj1TJzRREgBVk_GKzPjMVqwJiZH5iZdlT6UjXGbWn_5pfXEpIOywo7rk1f8G2a9DJOeYHxqjw/s1600/DSC01599.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcqwTjbVnYULXwbJ3rLpdn0Kougi2L-HPI7qgJu0yCDCAvQ3QYdQz_J0Vrj3xkNvrh1GGj1TJzRREgBVk_GKzPjMVqwJiZH5iZdlT6UjXGbWn_5pfXEpIOywo7rk1f8G2a9DJOeYHxqjw/s320/DSC01599.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div>Here is a picture of our little cabin. We stayed at the Macal River Camp, part of Chaa Creek Resort just outside of San Ignacio. We were tucked about as far back as they go and our front porch, which you can't see was up against giant palm fronds and thick jungle foliage. The screens go all the way around. There are no solid walls. This is actually pretty neat if you want to hear the world of the jungle come alive. One night we were greeted with the sounds of howler monkeys. Their LOUD voices sound a lot like the dinosaurs that chase people in Jurassic Park. I'm not exaggerating one bit. I tried to record it with my iPhone but the sound didn't carry so well to the microphone. I did find this little video so you too can enjoy their <strike>screeching</strike> singing.</div><div><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/-vxlnZ8BihI" width="420"></iframe><br />
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Crazy right? Imagine if that were right above your head, in the dark, while trying to sleep. The little family that lived in the trees at our resort spent most of their time<strike> terrorizing </strike> entertaining the people who were staying in the fancy rooms, not our humble little casitas. Perhaps the thought they'd get better tips from those folks? As a side note, while searching for this video the little dog who was peacefully sleeping next to me has become agitated. Olivia is not a fan. Other sounds included all sorts of birds, weird little buzzing bugs and undetermined animals (probably gibnuts) moving around in the foliage.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This is one of the larger, family sized casitas that sit on the opposite side of the camp. We didn't go in one, but I understand they have four beds in them. When we arrived the University of Vermont had a group of students visiting and they were staying in these rooms.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2CUIduzjREr2n3j3FWLv4Qi0QdGXFlJ6pfWBKIPfTYRNes1lKvsD2XBTUQH-_uQ2Tpw0PhPo4yu_1Gsgx7xr8F_G6suJe6DddXpinN1ylRRDmltZOz7Tf4o0SaCVGDyEDQaTcNCd5YUs/s1600/DSC01609.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2CUIduzjREr2n3j3FWLv4Qi0QdGXFlJ6pfWBKIPfTYRNes1lKvsD2XBTUQH-_uQ2Tpw0PhPo4yu_1Gsgx7xr8F_G6suJe6DddXpinN1ylRRDmltZOz7Tf4o0SaCVGDyEDQaTcNCd5YUs/s320/DSC01609.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This is the inside of our room. It was plenty big for the two of us. Each night Dosio, the camp host, or one of his kids, would light the kerosene lanterns as it grew dark. With no electricity it gets dark in the jungle FAST! Shortly after dark falls it's dinner time. Everyone eats together in a two hour time frame. Dinner is made by Dosio's wife or his sister-in- law. I wish I had photos of the food. Sadly it was so amazing we always ate it before thinking to take a photo. When I say amazing I'm not sure the word really fairly describes the food I consumed. It was better than that. Seconds were encouraged and there was always a dessert to enjoy. The banana cake our first night might be the BEST banana cake I have ever had. I had banana cake at my wedding. This was better. Leaps and bounds better. I am a cake lover, you have to know my wedding cake was delicious. Still I vote for Belize Banana Cake. It must be the fresh bananas? If I ever make it back to Macal River Camp I will beg for that recipe. </div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In addition to the beautiful walks you can take around the resort you can also check out a canoe and either head upstream (free!) or downstream into San Ignacio town ($25/person including your pick up in town). We choose to head into town and this is me heading down the river. It's a two hour paddle. They told us it would be a two hour paddle. Scott and I both figured we'd be able to do that a bit faster. You know he's all buff and stuff and I've been working on my fitness. We had this on lock down. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Only we didn't. It wasn't a hard paddle, but it took the full two hours. Thankfully it's a beautiful ride down a lovely river with iguanas hanging out on tree branches and large birds swooping in front of the boat. Also, there were a few class one rapids to go through. I've rafted the upper Clackamas River so I've seen some rapids. These were not nearly as scary but the first one you do in a little canoe rather than a giant inflated raft is a bit nerve wracking. We got the hang of it quickly though and it was pretty darn fun. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We did pass another couple. So even if we didn't beat the two hour mark we at least beat some other people :) I bet they had no idea they were in a race with us. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpUj5W0gBIczqoalhphP5PChtZBZFxEQCxe1WH6tHtOuQ11NVMm8VxgAFw8lZi1xoDFBQzVrtryT90Asxl5QHsrVIP0Ka1GrORIAX53cOkYubTW_oSaNveN1q1I-N1yBMt_XRJV3Mn01o/s1600/DSC03647.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpUj5W0gBIczqoalhphP5PChtZBZFxEQCxe1WH6tHtOuQ11NVMm8VxgAFw8lZi1xoDFBQzVrtryT90Asxl5QHsrVIP0Ka1GrORIAX53cOkYubTW_oSaNveN1q1I-N1yBMt_XRJV3Mn01o/s320/DSC03647.JPG" width="301" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Pretty river view. I wish I'd thought to take a photo of the suspension bridge you pass under. It's the only one in Belize. It was built in 1949 and is only one lane wide. If you know me you understand that I was much happier to go under it than over it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDs4dRf9nJF6r0kFaCkFF5-Ci7uYXhJCxAiq-rQ_CLUu2naVksNqT4dWTgVKfWj_9Da3McMVxJ6aCGx4v5SMmhE5LZZdX8kiCMus-UsKtbiTIWZXZm4izKvKDn6wHBwcRBN4HzNzsFeBg/s1600/DSC03655.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDs4dRf9nJF6r0kFaCkFF5-Ci7uYXhJCxAiq-rQ_CLUu2naVksNqT4dWTgVKfWj_9Da3McMVxJ6aCGx4v5SMmhE5LZZdX8kiCMus-UsKtbiTIWZXZm4izKvKDn6wHBwcRBN4HzNzsFeBg/s320/DSC03655.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After our drift into town we left our canoe at the dock (small cement outcropping that had neither a sign or place to tie up the boat) and walked into town. The resort has a set up to leave your paddle and life jackets at a local restaurant so you can enjoy town without them. We stopped at a different restaurant and ordered drinks and lunch. This was my first Belikin of the trip. It's a pretty easy beer to drink when it's hot out. Very refreshing. </div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Delicious shrimp ceviche. We were famished!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUXInbo-U1aGGb5MDF848ty1jdJyHPAoLLcYZOREEHltJyGv1YPpH9VOsLY_6g2pJcByl33kXYRNSK4K4vGWgcmzR99N72jR64CAu6i0rPAu0xbWA-Tk7bs2bkppinmuXrGr4ti7A05ak/s1600/DSC03658.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUXInbo-U1aGGb5MDF848ty1jdJyHPAoLLcYZOREEHltJyGv1YPpH9VOsLY_6g2pJcByl33kXYRNSK4K4vGWgcmzR99N72jR64CAu6i0rPAu0xbWA-Tk7bs2bkppinmuXrGr4ti7A05ak/s320/DSC03658.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After lunch we took a walk into town and through the market. Just around the corner from this market there is a large construction site that we walked past. The day after we left this area of Belize they discovered <a href="http://belizean.com/construction-workers-find-maya-artiefacts-under-street-in-belize-1001/">Mayan ruins and skeletal remains</a> at that site. Pretty amazing! I love that they are still discovering these amazing pieces of history!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFyme4rUjTow8AHFtmP2A3W7WnwDyci5Mo0yk8TN3gZnc5RCgOlkq-K93lFBKx6CEx_oBQRZIVoqYOKppJbV9lrru1fsdLZ-jkIttlAgmmx-jpkbAvYQJPS0FbALBGXx22nBSbe4ViOAI/s1600/DSC03660.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFyme4rUjTow8AHFtmP2A3W7WnwDyci5Mo0yk8TN3gZnc5RCgOlkq-K93lFBKx6CEx_oBQRZIVoqYOKppJbV9lrru1fsdLZ-jkIttlAgmmx-jpkbAvYQJPS0FbALBGXx22nBSbe4ViOAI/s320/DSC03660.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Also around the corner from the market is this little store. I just thought it was funny that they have a sign with the words "big panties" on it. Yes I have the same sense of humor as a nine year old. I can't help it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqxbTOaLBsUk-P2xBluQV294RVT2btMJLJ2BEi5hFxxj9h6lYBJF3GY1AYPA0hCI35WbGS_kysnSWcoIo1Zfd3-CxgrumJAJDQxozJ5UM-cYv-JXEOqj0YjBmSOWmOXxXgIyTsSnS_aa0/s1600/DSC03793.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqxbTOaLBsUk-P2xBluQV294RVT2btMJLJ2BEi5hFxxj9h6lYBJF3GY1AYPA0hCI35WbGS_kysnSWcoIo1Zfd3-CxgrumJAJDQxozJ5UM-cYv-JXEOqj0YjBmSOWmOXxXgIyTsSnS_aa0/s320/DSC03793.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Back at the resort we decided to relax a little by the pool. Macal River Camp guest are able to use the amenities at the resort side of the property too. A nice little perk. The grounds are beautiful and the pool is very refreshing. They have food and drink service at the pool as well. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJtqgUR1-EQ0gBxoaACIUJvWnu7y9bgyLXlYz5PHol50k3aMgUDkXSAu09Nx6K0Tn4UJJMxTLEHqDdGe7lJCmDy5KnX9j3YBKvUFMjikfDAnddvPLMtEnIQwKQGvgDRsdMaSmFZFCR7ZY/s1600/DSC03794.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJtqgUR1-EQ0gBxoaACIUJvWnu7y9bgyLXlYz5PHol50k3aMgUDkXSAu09Nx6K0Tn4UJJMxTLEHqDdGe7lJCmDy5KnX9j3YBKvUFMjikfDAnddvPLMtEnIQwKQGvgDRsdMaSmFZFCR7ZY/s320/DSC03794.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">At the pool we met a man who had a giant bag of ice on his ankle. I'd already been told by Dosio - who picked us up in town - that someone had to return from the ATM cave hike early due to a turned ankle. I assumed this was the guy and sure enough it was. He'd fallen at a quick stop on the way to the cave. Poor thing didn't even make it to the area where you hike. More on that later of course. I have a whole blog coming on just that hike.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjINClKMkjziOaj89CDyyt7DwbnelkV-UmAI3lRCin5U7xmmT7iVqJ4w4j27-qRYGlYwnoyZdhRCxXY0UaakyxWRd0fmsjRo-mKrv5GV_y2-NvK-oCyeVe-WNzEYRe8Tdu7z4DzDabkAHc/s1600/IMG_0897.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjINClKMkjziOaj89CDyyt7DwbnelkV-UmAI3lRCin5U7xmmT7iVqJ4w4j27-qRYGlYwnoyZdhRCxXY0UaakyxWRd0fmsjRo-mKrv5GV_y2-NvK-oCyeVe-WNzEYRe8Tdu7z4DzDabkAHc/s320/IMG_0897.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My final picture on this post is out of sequence, these are the first drinks we had upon arriving at the resort. Mine is a lime juice,similar to Limeaid and easily my favorite drink in Belize. I'm doing some research online for recipes and I plan to test a few out. I will report back here. Scott's drink is the beer of course. I think of these as a toast to Macal River Camp, Dosio and his family, the town of San Ignacio and the lovely Cayo District. It was our first taste of Belize and it was perfect. I would do it again in heartbeat. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-4895905776079663322012-01-29T17:16:00.000-08:002017-02-07T20:39:40.265-08:00You betta Belize it!We've just returned from what I can easily say was the BEST vacation we have ever taken. Mind you, we're not whirlwind world travelers, but we've been to a few spots and Belize was above and beyond. It was AMAZEBALLS! <br />
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</div><div>With all of the adventure and scenery it would be impossible to write it all up in one blog so I'm planning to break it up into three or four. Honestly I could probably write six, seven...ten blogs about Belize but I'm not sure anyone would want to read that much so I'm planning to try and tone it down a bit. Really, I feel like could go on and on about the wonderful time we had in this extraordinary country.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I will say this to start. If you are ever, ever, ever given the chance to go to Belize, be it the Cayo District, Ambergris Caye (both places we visited) or one of the many other towns and areas in the country - You. Should. Go.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Don't hesitate. </div><div><br />
</div><div>The people of Belize are super friendly and fun, full of information and stories about their young (yet old - Mayan influences everywhere you turn!) country. They only gained full independence from Britain in 1981. Because of their British colonial heritage English is spoken everywhere, along with Spanish and Kriol (sounds a little like Creole/English or maybe like a Jamaican accent). The people are diverse, many nationalities now call Belize home. We saw signs in many languages. People of all colors and shapes. It truly is a melting pot. Everyone if proud of their home and it is easy to understand that.</div><div><br />
</div><div>The land is quite diverse too. Mountains, rivers, beaches, jungles, large expanses of farm land, and caves dot the little country on the right hand side of Central America. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I know that we will go back. There is so much more to see and do. So much to explore and so many more friends to make. Did I mention the people are friendly??</div><div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaitVukJg6Ez_Gc9-HR8xn0G9Zx6GsquIWOC32rJUCiYCoKc76oEPcsN6HEcom8btmFZpYlynyy4tY5cX3u_f9EKu5kxb4m5miiClgXPdGtr7iDJk3cGe1jBB3LlFjS0XVWXQU6Bn-PVI/s1600/IMG_0928.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaitVukJg6Ez_Gc9-HR8xn0G9Zx6GsquIWOC32rJUCiYCoKc76oEPcsN6HEcom8btmFZpYlynyy4tY5cX3u_f9EKu5kxb4m5miiClgXPdGtr7iDJk3cGe1jBB3LlFjS0XVWXQU6Bn-PVI/s400/IMG_0928.JPG" width="298" /></a></div><div>Here is just a taste of our trip...get it? Taste...ha! I'm such a nerd! </div><div><br />
</div><div>More to come soon!</div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-59012719110575938342011-11-10T14:02:00.001-08:002017-02-07T20:39:40.274-08:00I have been quite lucky in my life when it comes to the friends department. Sure there are a few that come to mind who were not the nicest, most thoughtful people (read: bat shit crazy pathological liar weirdos), but really only a few. Today I'm going to tell you about a few of them.<br />
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This is the story of the gang. They come from a time long ago, in a land far away.<br />
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R, C and E we will call them. Just in case one (or all) of them wants to remain webland anonymous. R, C, and E (that's me) were attached at the hip. It was a time in our lives where transition was the norm. Moving into high school and all the social barriers, clubs, groups, cliques, gangs - all of that made for a rude awakening to me for sure, I suspect for them too. I don't think that given our normal every day lives we would have necessarily found one another. I've never talked this over with them so I can only speak for myself, but I have decided that we worked as friends because we were all trying to figure out just who the hell we were and saw something in the others that we really loved or aspired to be. That is at least how I see them. <br />
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R. C, and E had all left their old little gang of friends from jr. high. Not maliciously or even with intent I think. It was just that time where you branch out. Those childhood friends were still there, but more on the fringe. We were three. <br />
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The little unlikely gang became one of the best, most loved times in my life. I was too young to know how special it was then. I really only learned to appreciate it when I grew up and learned you don't share your deepest, darkest secrets and wishes with just everyone. And if you do take the risk and share, most people won't understand, appreciate or commiserate with you. You have to find the right people at just the right time for this dynamic to work. For us the time was short lived because I moved away and it was hard to maintain that level of closeness when you're hundreds of miles away. A phone call is just not the same as lying on a bedroom floor listening to The Smiths and talking about the futures we saw for ourselves at the time. My life changed drastically and I couldn't keep up with the lives they were living back at home. So I lost them. Not permanently of course and they even came to visit a few times. But I lost that extremely special and unique connection. They moved on and into different friend groups, went on to college and so did I. <br />
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I can look back now and still appreciate how wonderful it was, that one year of growth and discovery (I like alternative music? Really? Really.) and just plain honesty. When you are a fourteen year old girl there are not many people you can be honest with. Someone will always judge you or tell your stories or even mock you. Not R and C. They were solid, good friends when the vast majority of the people surrounding us were so insecure they would hunt down the flaws in others to expose them. Typical teen behavior of course, but that doesn't make it any more easy to deal with. You've seen Mean Girls right?<br />
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Today I saw a picture of R and C and it nearly made me cry. Not because I lost them, but really because I found them. I still have all these wonderful memories in my head. Watching SNL (is that the age where everyone discovers SNL?) and staying up way too late talking about our love lifes or lack of. Dealing with those first questions of "Should I, shouldn't I?" when it came to boys and intimacy (A blow job? What in the hell is that and why?) Listening to the Beatles when we were in good moods, The Cure when we weren't. Scribbling things on our converse high tops. Trying to fly under the radar when it came to being social with others.<br />
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I look back at those times with a subjective mind and think, "God that was kind a difficult time. So much change, uncertainty and lack of direction". I'm sure there were days back then where I though it was the most awful time in my life, certainly if it had not been for R and C. And yet, now I can also look back and think "What an amazing time!" I got to learn to branch out and try new things, make new friends. It felt so free, and really it did. I can remember that feeling. I felt free to be me, no matter. What a gift and for that I am so grateful.Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-16824913722549117962011-10-12T19:47:00.000-07:002017-02-07T20:39:40.248-08:00Call me JoanTwo weeks ago I started a writing class. My first step in realizing my dream of actually completing and sharing one of the stories that have been rolling around in my head. I've had it on my List of Good Intentions for a while and decided that as they year wrapped up it was time to take action.<br />
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In a moment of bravery I registered. In another moment of boldness I showed up to class. Then I got really courageous and actually read my story idea out loud to the twelve people in my class. I was terrified and could hear the waver in my own voice as I did it, but I did it. <br />
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I have a bit of social anxiety. Large groups, new people, putting myself out there, well it freaks me the &*%$ out! I get shaky, sweaty and then I begin to come up with any excuse to not participate. I am the master of excuses.Years ago I wouldn't even send a salad with a hair in back to the kitchen for fear of being noticed. I skipped one too many classes in college because I just couldn't deal with being the center of attention for even the two minutes required to read my homework out loud. People who know me might think it's nuts. I have no issue being the center of attention in a crowd of people I love and adore. Add strangers though and I become the perfect little wall flower.<br />
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So despite being the worlds biggest scaredy cat and nearly convincing myself that I didn't actually need to take the class, I went. I went and I read and it was exhilarating as well as frightening. In the end people liked my idea and asked positive, thought provoking questions. Phew. I survived. I was rewarded with a feeling of accomplishment. I guess you could even say I was proud of myself. Wimpy little Erin pulled off a brave moment. Call me Joan of Arc! <br />
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It certainly helps to be sitting in a class filled with other book lovers who also have a story to share. Let me tell you, if you like to read, and we can all learn to write these books and then somehow get them published, this group will give you some kick ass reading material. Amazing stories being tossed around our little circle of trust (that's what I call it now, I haven't shared that with any of them yet).<br />
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Next week we get to work on the structure and scenes of our stories. I'm really excited to start this. It feels like real progress on a long ago, sometimes forgotten dream.Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-31085530529267735542011-10-10T19:30:00.000-07:002017-02-07T20:39:40.259-08:00Cheering Squad Reports for DutySunday was the 40th Portland Marathon. Charity ran it because she's crazy like that. We go cheer her on because we're awesome like that. This year it was a bit drizzley and wet. Not ideal for spectators but it's exactly what I would have wanted to be running in.<br />
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We took up our normal spot at mile 18ish. Just after everyone comes over the St. Johns Bridge. At this point you can see people starting to hit their walls. I can't even imagine running that far and these poor souls have 8 more miles to go! But they preserver. <br />
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Every year we make signs for Charity but this year I decided to make one for everyone. After running my half this year I now know just how important a cheering section is and if I can be that for someone who might be struggling why not? So I made a giant hot pink sign that said "Go Complete Stranger Go!" It was a hit! Josh held it for most of the time we were out there and he was the ideal sign holder. When people would ask if it was for them he'd yell back, "I made it just for you!" It brought a lot of laughs and smiles to that section of the race. Josh was having so much fun we pretty much had to drag him away from the course so we could go meet Charity at the finish line. <br />
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Honestly we all had a good time. I think we'll do this on years Charity doesn't run too. Of course when she's running she will always get a special sign :)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVIbBYPv-HBNs3EYg1tDE0RkRKPWddBvBXqAod_dlRDzOMk6fnvHw10diC2xVJyzX9zpaiCqENjB44UEMBgE5YzcSML4hKaRBfYrcjQsL1mIT7u6N4sf3n0g4X1W28hLEPUS38e_DAABM/s1600/marathon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVIbBYPv-HBNs3EYg1tDE0RkRKPWddBvBXqAod_dlRDzOMk6fnvHw10diC2xVJyzX9zpaiCqENjB44UEMBgE5YzcSML4hKaRBfYrcjQsL1mIT7u6N4sf3n0g4X1W28hLEPUS38e_DAABM/s400/marathon.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">You can see the side we made for the other runners as Charity comes up on us! Go C-Dogg!</div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-24627485001427824152011-10-06T14:41:00.001-07:002017-02-07T20:39:40.252-08:00Yes, it's three months early...but I'm planning Christmas anyway. Just the thought of Christmas put me in a better mood today so I decided that while nearly three months away, it is not too early to look at and plan some things that would make me and others happy.Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-67988030752393002252011-10-01T21:15:00.000-07:002017-02-07T20:40:41.977-08:00A book worth reading - Gone With a Handsomer ManFall is now here, wind blowing colorful leaves around, rain is in the forecast, the temperatures have dropped. This means a few things to me. Time to get the apple cider out and time to stock up on fantabulous books for lazy Saturday afternoons. My absolute favorite way to spend a blustery fall day is on my my couch with a fluffy blanket, a fluffy dog, and a fun book. I tend to read things that are a little lighter in the Fall and Winter. Many stores call them "Beach Reads" and they are meant for vacations, but I need that little pick me up, fun times, story when the sunshine has left me. They are my vacation from the dreary outside.<br />
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A book I just read and thoroughly enjoyed was Gone With a Handsomer Man by Michael Lee West. Set in the South and full of delicious cake baking this little mystery was a joy to read. I loved the main character Teeny and all the challenges she faced. Plus she loves to bake so I could relate to her instantly. Thinking her life if perfect Tenny starts off in a really good place, only to have it all fall apart rather quickly. Accused of murder Tenny has to stay afloat in a flood of bad circumstances. From her terrible fiance, to his crazy aunt and the handsome lawyer Teeny reconnects with, the characters stay interesting and the story gets more and more intriguing. I found myself smiling on more than one occasion and I didn't want to put it down. That's the sign of a good book. A cross between chick-lit, mystery and contemporary fiction I think it would appeal to a lot of people and it gets a thumbs up from me. Perfect book to snuggle in with on a rainy afternoon!Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-34449750336118098382011-08-18T14:57:00.000-07:002017-02-07T20:40:41.955-08:00Growing PainsI have, in the last few months really been making an effort to watch myself and be aware of my actions. I'm more aware when I have a snarky comment and can sometimes catch it before I just blurt it out for all the world to hear. I can also remind myself to pause and think about a better well thought out response to conflict and/or important issues. Sometimes I just randomly realize I've done something wrong and think about the best way to handle it in the future or how to make amends for it right then and there. I suspect this is me becoming and adult. A real, honest to goodness adult.<br />
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That frightens me to some extent because that means I'm getting old right? Yikes! I don't wanna. I mean it. I want to stomp my feet and pout and throw a tantrum like a little girl in the Barbie aisle at the toy store. I don't want to be old.<br />
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On the other hand, these things I've been doing and noticing make me like myself better. So maybe it's good I get old? Ack did I really just type that?<br />
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I've thought about it a lot these days. Maybe growing up and being adult means that you get to be a better person, so you can enjoy life and the important things a bit more. Kind of like when you were a wee lass. You know when the most important part of your day was staring up at the sky to pick animals out of clouds and giving or getting hugs from loved ones. Telling your friends at preschool that you missed them because you really did. Just letting your heart lead you.<br />
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There seems to be this middle phase that starts about the age of 10 (for me at least) when things become more important and social structure makes you a meaner, bitter person just for self preservation. Middle school and high school can be hard yo! So you build up these walls, you make friends but you also sometimes do and say things to them that you know are not right. You know it. You may make yourself feel better by saying you were justified because your feelings were hurt or they made eyes at Robbie Jackson even though they knew you totally had a mega crush on him. In girls this is where Mean Girl Syndrome sets in. I am not a boy so I can't speak to the subject of mean boys but I bet they exist. Probably dressed in camo and fighting over G.I. Joes and later girls in bikinis.<br />
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Anyway...where I was going is that I think my becoming a bit more adult has allowed me to move past some of those Mean Girl tendencies. This is the benefit of being an adult. I get to be nicer. I also get to pay more attention to the things in life that really matter, just like I did when I was six. This has lead to some guilt though. I think back and know that I wasn't always the best person I could be. Sigh. I have been a bit of a snarky beyotch at times. My only hope is that those people I was snarky or just downright mean to understand this whole growing up thing and realize we're all a little like that. Kids (even in their 20's, 30's and yes sometimes in their 40's) do stupid things. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuF7eVAIyTZakgodIcLRarDh-iOTwGKSxUg1fAlBIfWkENn7TsPFL_Q8f5YunZxcdg0jmTSCJ88Hueb3L3vgHhFj9Mxyavf5MZJsaaiZ3afI0sfnKXP4Psm0kqcPx5SaL7qbgbbBMNxww/s1600/forgive.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuF7eVAIyTZakgodIcLRarDh-iOTwGKSxUg1fAlBIfWkENn7TsPFL_Q8f5YunZxcdg0jmTSCJ88Hueb3L3vgHhFj9Mxyavf5MZJsaaiZ3afI0sfnKXP4Psm0kqcPx5SaL7qbgbbBMNxww/s320/forgive.jpg" width="320" /></a>Just today I reached out an olive branch to an old friend who I was less than awesome to. In a tit for tat world she'd hurt my feelings and me, being the oversensitive cry baby I am made too big of a deal about it and in turn made myself into the real asshole. Yay me for being able to screw things up even more in the blink of one mouse click. This is one of those adult lessons I'm talking about. Yes she hurt my feelings. No I didn't deserve that. But should I have been awful back? No. I should have let it be. I don't have to be a doormat, but I also don't have to be a hurtful person. She has the right to ignore the olive branch I've extended or even take it and smack me around with it. But I'm going to forgive her and myself for being stupid kids. Regardless of the outcome I know now that I made the effort to fix it and I did so in an adult manner. That makes me feel a little better. It took me the better part of a year to get here though.<br />
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Man this growing up thing takes a lot of energy and time.<br />
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I think I need a nap now, with my favorite blankie. Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-22520855293236840982011-08-08T21:30:00.000-07:002017-02-07T20:40:41.948-08:00The last few days...have been busy. <br />
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</div><div>Quick photo recap.</div><div><br />
</div><div>We went on a boat. Scott even got to steer a little.</div><div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPuRfY3r1b8-WO6-M2kBq72Y_wCWmNWabKybkiEi_i3aszh10t47NXY9ZDVJePB5s2pLGNV_z1_GLkDl7qzl96k8b2MxIIy2i9rg7NF7S8TGd58mxMRuy2u9zII8JJsFwlNAVLvz2JCRA/s1600/on+a+boat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPuRfY3r1b8-WO6-M2kBq72Y_wCWmNWabKybkiEi_i3aszh10t47NXY9ZDVJePB5s2pLGNV_z1_GLkDl7qzl96k8b2MxIIy2i9rg7NF7S8TGd58mxMRuy2u9zII8JJsFwlNAVLvz2JCRA/s1600/on+a+boat.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We had a birthday party for the twins.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh-WPOl2CM61JSpY7MruMZxw49h6_CJX4TblxlbhJukyos-rxKIqnldZXWVhB-5EGpNlPmvRH-TlRPQFXniwpqtmLOCm1CwFQTTYHBkm2WtI7Ek4QbyazpRr9zGXP4Xuwrl_AzFUrv5Jc/s1600/twinks+party.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh-WPOl2CM61JSpY7MruMZxw49h6_CJX4TblxlbhJukyos-rxKIqnldZXWVhB-5EGpNlPmvRH-TlRPQFXniwpqtmLOCm1CwFQTTYHBkm2WtI7Ek4QbyazpRr9zGXP4Xuwrl_AzFUrv5Jc/s400/twinks+party.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">These cucumbers appeared in the garden. Then I made them into pickles!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK-TFaEFbOBZrHbWdqS784h_9ZZiABV6hb88Tj88b-4EnXUl0WVG4LMIdQ8-_-Cu6YhoZo60c4CNSl2mCRo_4744lGUsfosHFLTocoDxTJKvpjjNVXJya1XnYNLeXaubfYa2cxrejba9A/s1600/DSC_1521.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK-TFaEFbOBZrHbWdqS784h_9ZZiABV6hb88Tj88b-4EnXUl0WVG4LMIdQ8-_-Cu6YhoZo60c4CNSl2mCRo_4744lGUsfosHFLTocoDxTJKvpjjNVXJya1XnYNLeXaubfYa2cxrejba9A/s400/DSC_1521.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD53Bmqitw_OsSZq2GaJN-4qoO7io2vS0SkJpuuRBlp-N1tRn1qaQn-IZnS8HAbyZVapZ4k8gsvlN5xuCGl5dW6v6xj43HoQQCP_FgFg3MBprJT625cDJ85XekCmTMdI1BssypZBx71Uo/s1600/DSC_1535.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD53Bmqitw_OsSZq2GaJN-4qoO7io2vS0SkJpuuRBlp-N1tRn1qaQn-IZnS8HAbyZVapZ4k8gsvlN5xuCGl5dW6v6xj43HoQQCP_FgFg3MBprJT625cDJ85XekCmTMdI1BssypZBx71Uo/s400/DSC_1535.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhcvru5maBJo9lt8o5DJRdo2V0kbpg8QcvX4rHWYNcC18-xWxhVLhFpxB5qp8j43l2ypFSERXPH7ZgryeZ7XlrQuVljNRetZXehyBLsEqhrV16D4s2YMtGyEt2xpCNd54dttT0_uCayfA/s1600/DSC_1542.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhcvru5maBJo9lt8o5DJRdo2V0kbpg8QcvX4rHWYNcC18-xWxhVLhFpxB5qp8j43l2ypFSERXPH7ZgryeZ7XlrQuVljNRetZXehyBLsEqhrV16D4s2YMtGyEt2xpCNd54dttT0_uCayfA/s400/DSC_1542.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div><br />
</div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-59608179364524031652011-07-27T19:08:00.000-07:002017-02-07T20:40:41.973-08:00Garden Time...again<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Out in the garden tonight I found myself humming a tune from Science Camp (Outdoor School for you Oregonians). The sunshine is out, the temps are up (from 50!) and it feels like summer might really be here. 'Bout freaking time! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sing it with me!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Dirt made my lunch,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Do, do, do, dooo</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Dirt made my lunch, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Do, do, do, doo</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Thank you dirt, thanks a bunch, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">for my salad, my sandwich my meat my munch,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">'Cause dirt, dirt made my lunch!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIe2cMw4kwDZTveLA8CuoEMrZj5_Z2mj5NWuZe2TqI06bh0Ximp2NJQWMWzyzBMDPwUALpiunOy3CgbU7cOpBr82G_G7BSlCfdubPSrNvBl6Vpbb8eaEeYDMX0woE2rG2Hah3BkZEgXdE/s1600/DSC_1021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIe2cMw4kwDZTveLA8CuoEMrZj5_Z2mj5NWuZe2TqI06bh0Ximp2NJQWMWzyzBMDPwUALpiunOy3CgbU7cOpBr82G_G7BSlCfdubPSrNvBl6Vpbb8eaEeYDMX0woE2rG2Hah3BkZEgXdE/s320/DSC_1021.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Curl of a cucumber vine</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqHVnsZtuXZAdsDw6YOj2Er3BeeN3e1mmIG6_PEEGBwj_6hLgk6NjKTiSd4kd1lHgITxrciaFNmOdzx5FVlk75cqL4CBrH3OuJi8MTPyoWlcX5T9jKPseRY7QUjbJll3epIyU5PYKWViw/s1600/DSC_1013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqHVnsZtuXZAdsDw6YOj2Er3BeeN3e1mmIG6_PEEGBwj_6hLgk6NjKTiSd4kd1lHgITxrciaFNmOdzx5FVlk75cqL4CBrH3OuJi8MTPyoWlcX5T9jKPseRY7QUjbJll3epIyU5PYKWViw/s320/DSC_1013.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Hanging on for dear life</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNZ4JAo7V59Ig7QvHklHIZrSds6e6gLN-xqFlmSr60KR33RzJ6VFL7CLR3yeZFhirx6dnxU_qqBc6bHsSekItbUo8_I6QJAOAwA8acho5COuehJEYs3-eNJM8Nb0XgrLBwuMgAz9_snIw/s1600/DSC_0998.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNZ4JAo7V59Ig7QvHklHIZrSds6e6gLN-xqFlmSr60KR33RzJ6VFL7CLR3yeZFhirx6dnxU_qqBc6bHsSekItbUo8_I6QJAOAwA8acho5COuehJEYs3-eNJM8Nb0XgrLBwuMgAz9_snIw/s320/DSC_0998.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And of course a little cucumber. One day when he's all gown up he'll live in a pickle jar! And then in my belly!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxGikn-CegIFSAcUtFfdScqMVwv0VyfGUBLA2b3ZJA4nvze588LXbUHppzqXo_wjJ5Vq0nnUtHyLlSaKlqtPqgaUj1Ul5SY5LYa-c7X8NtpoCjJeKRkDLP6fAEJDBQGQnjbN-a1B8dfcM/s1600/DSC_1004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxGikn-CegIFSAcUtFfdScqMVwv0VyfGUBLA2b3ZJA4nvze588LXbUHppzqXo_wjJ5Vq0nnUtHyLlSaKlqtPqgaUj1Ul5SY5LYa-c7X8NtpoCjJeKRkDLP6fAEJDBQGQnjbN-a1B8dfcM/s320/DSC_1004.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Didn't want to leave the tomatoes out...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-77080521843720754532011-07-18T07:12:00.000-07:002017-02-07T20:40:41.988-08:00Putting it out thereI've heard so many people say that just putting it out there is the first step. That making the people around you and the universe we live in aware of your needs/desires will make your vision possible. I hear people pray to God for help in these matters, finding your place, your bliss, your path. I think we all at one time or another look to some thing, some one, to help guide us to that sweet spot. I have lately, very much so, been wishing to find my path. I am actually quite blessed to know what my path should include. I have at least a little direction. However I don't often express that or share it out loud.<br />
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Sure, people who know me well will have already guessed that I wish I had a job (or no job if that was possible) that allowed me to be more creative. One that let me design stationary or plan small parties, one that let me bake and craft and put smiles on peoples faces. I find that I am most content when I am able to do these things. So yes, some people probably already know that. But maybe the universe doesn't. Maybe God doesn't. So I'm going to make more of an effort to put it out there. I don't know what that means yet. I don't know how to start, but I'm going to try and be aware and that's the first step. <br />
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I have no idea what sort of job I've described above. I can find pieces of it in other jobs but they don't always fit me so well. Like teaching. I love kids but seeing as we can't have them it would be hard for me to be around them all the time. I know this about myself. Going to culinary school to become a pastry chef has crossed my mind, but I'm not sure that is where my path really should go. I love to make cupcakes and sugary treats but I don't want to do it all the time. Maybe I'll be a master gardener, but just that one thing seems so limiting. So there is something to be figured out here...what sort of job/life am I looking for? Honestly I want to be a crafty, sweets making, photo taking, book reading/writing fairy godmother. Where does one apply for that?<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Bibbity, bobity, boo..</div><br />
I will think and pray on this, put it out to the universe and see if my path can somehow be redirected.<br />
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Please note for the record: I do like my current job. It's a pretty sweet gig, but it rarely includes paste, glitter, sugar, frosting and or adorably wrapped presents. Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-53809390739468055892011-07-06T22:51:00.000-07:002017-02-07T20:40:41.968-08:00Jam on!Earlier this year when I planted my veggie/fruit boxes I made a plan to make jam. I've never made jam so it seemed quite daunting until I did a little research.<br />
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Tonight my jam plan came to fruition. Fruition. Ha! I crack myself up. Ok, anyway back to the jam.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>It's DELICIOUS! I used a less sugar recipe so it would be more fruit forward and it worked perfectly. It set up just like it was supposed to and right now my jars are cooling on a rack. I'm just waiting for tell tale POP to know they are all sealed up.<br />
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I had no idea I could make jam so easily and succesfully. Now I want to jam all sorts of things. Sadly Scott doesn't eat jam so if I keep jamming it's possible it will go to waste...guess I'll have to find some jam fans and share. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Strawberries from our garden. I had to add to this, but I was happy I could use some of my own!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adding the sugar and pectin mix!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stir. Stir some more. Then stir a few more times for good measure.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hot bath!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JAM!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td></tr>
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Now I need some nice fluffy biscuits to eat with it...<br />
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Oh! I just heard a lid pop! Success!Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3774665649223120690.post-34116041648863694192011-06-21T06:28:00.000-07:002017-02-07T20:40:41.953-08:00Back in the skinny saddle again...Sometimes when I'm cooking and the recipe calls for mozzarella I like to repeat the word over and over in a horrible fake Italian accent. It's a fun word when you drag it out in that accent. The Italians really know how to name cheese. Moooozzz-ahh-relllaaah! Try it. Roll that "r". Fun right? Pecorino is fun too. But don't try to sound all authentic like Giada. It's more fun if you intentionally try it with a horrible impression. Even better if you raise your hands up at the end of the word for extra emphasis. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My those are some nice mozzarella balls you have there.</td></tr>
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Night before last I got to do this. I tried a new recipe for Low Fat Baked Ziti. I used penne pasta instead, and I added sausage to it. Scott will moan and groan if his meals don't have some form of meat in them. This is why he never takes me to Sweet Tomatoes (Soup Plantation/Fresh Choice for you Californians), even though I absolutely love it there and crave their Tuna Tarragon on a daily basis. I am totally deprived people. Completely. But back to the baked penne.<br />
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It was delicious and so so easy and yes it had the mozzarella.<br />
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I've decided to go back to my healthy eating plans since I won't be running 15-24 miles a week any longer. Not running so much means not burning gobs of calories. Cutting back to 9 miles a week will significantly reduce my burn so I had to look for other ways to stay (get) fit. <br />
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One of the ways I'm doing that is perusing, printing and preparing recipes from www.skinnytaste.com . There are some AMAZING options over there. I print out new ones all the time and I now have quite a stack to get through. I've made five or six of her recipes and they always turn out smashing! I even ate spinach last night and it was delicious. You know my displeasure with vegetables in general so this is pretty awesome news. <br />
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I'm back in the saddle again...hopefully a skinnier one soon. No more eating cake pops even though they are totally rad. Fruit instead because it's rad too.<br />
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YeeHaw!Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977035373522579831noreply@blogger.com0