Guess What Was Found

Apparently Hans' aunt has sticky fingers. She came to visit us up at the cabin and saw our camera on the table, thought it was her daughters, and took it home with her. So I wasn't going crazy when I was totally befuddled with my inability to find it.

I was so elated to receive this returned treasure in the mail today. Here are some of the pictures from our vacation, before the camera went missing.

The Missing Link

I’m trying to convince myself that it will be all right: we are still having fun, still having a good time, still creating memories. But, in the pit of my stomach is the knowledge that something dreadful has happened on our vacation: we have lost our camera. This grand disappointment occurred the second day of our family getaway. I can still visualize the few shots I got on that first day, which only makes me feel worse since I will never see them again.

There was one picture taken on a hike with Daddy leading the way followed by three perfect stair-step boys. Then there is another picture I took on day one where two of the boys are wearing their 4 wheeler helmets, the youngest has the cutest gleam in his left eye as he looks up at his older brother in complete adoration and excitement.

We took the camera with us on a 4 wheeler ride, my regrettable idea. My husband dropped it once, but came back and retrieved it. From that point on neither of us can remember anything else about our camera. We don’t remember having it when we got off the ATV’s, we don’t remember putting it on any of the cabin’s counters, and we don’t remember thinking we didn’t have it either. A mystery. It wasn’t until later that evening when the boys were sitting on the dock down at the lake with their bare toes skimming the top of the water that I thought, “Oh the perfect shot. I must get my camera.” At that moment I realized I had no idea where the camera was located.

With Biblical zeal I looked for my lost coin, I scoured every corner, swept every cupboard, looked in every logical and illogical location at least five times, but unlike the spiritual parable, there has been no rejoicing over the once lost camera now found, instead utter befuddlement.

That first night after I realized my camera was gone all I dreamed about were possible locations my beloved Kodak might be resting, waiting for me to find him. I could hear my beloved memory maker calling for me to rescue him. I was sure he had flown off the back of my husband’s 4 wheeler as we raced over mountain trails. So, I made my husband retrace our adventure, nothing. I kept hoping a lone hiker would knock on our door and hand us our lost friend. Sadly, my fantasy was not becoming a reality.

I try consoling myself that when we pack up the cabin at the end of our retreat, I’ll find that black case and red camera just sitting down in our luggage waiting to be found.

We’ve moved on. I have tried to release my loss. I want to enjoy my vacation, but this disappearance has made me realize something about how I live and vacation: a big part of creating memories for me is capturing them on film. I am the documenter of small and large events in my children’s lives, and it makes me sick to think that this family vacation will have no digital memories, just the ones we c an hope to remember in our minds.

I remind myself that many of my best childhood memories do not involve photos in an album. They are mine and mine alone. I am the sole keeper of these treasures. Surely my sons will capture these family adventures we make this week…forever. I’m taking special attention of photo-worthy-moments and trying to etch them into my mind. I value memory; I’ve always had an exceptionally good one.

However, I’m noticing something: the longer I live, the more memories I have, the more I am forgetting the most recent ones. Those old ones, those early ones, I never seem to forget. And that is why I’m still sad about not getting to preserve this family vacation with my trusty ally, my camera.

Instead of being in charge of my memory and what gets filed away forever, I am leaving it up to chance and my mind to sort out the important memories versus the forgettable.
I truly hope my mind sifts these picture perfect moments to the top of my brain, and that these short years when my boys all love and adore me are never forgotten in this cabin by the lake.

Camping Part 3: The Camp Fire

I always look particularly great after a few days without a shower or a mirror.

Camping Part 2: Spirits Lifted

By noon on Saturday the rains had stopped, well, at least subsided. We went to the lake, went on walks, played on bikes, and the adults got some chatting in between chasing children episodes. The trip got much better. Seriously, if it hadn't stopped raining I would have been tempted to pack it up.

Camping Part 1: Deluge

So, do you love camping? This was the question I asked in Monday's post. For me, it is a love/hate relationship, but when it rained on us this last weekend I was definitely hating it rather than loving it. My spirits were lifted by noon when the rains subsided; this was noted and observed by one of our fellow campers, so I guess I wasn't hiding it too well.

I will call this first pictures post: Deluge

Lucky for us the worst of the rain came at night when we were putting our children to bed. So no adults around the campfire that night. We all just went to bed, and I have to admit that the rain coming down on the tent all night was a bit cozy.

Oh, and you got to love the shot of my hubby: hot, hot, hot!




My husband being proactive just in case night two was as rainy. It wasn't! We actually got a chance to sit around the fire and chat.

Iron Mountain: A Mental Challenge and Victory

He did it! My middle son did it. He fought through his own mental weakness and climbed the whole thing without any help from us, his parents. This is quite impressive, for this is the son who often quits when things get uncomfortable. He's never been a great hiker, something the other four members of his family love. Even the youngest brother shows more hiking aptitude; A has often out walked C on many a family outing.

My husband has been promising the boys that we would climb Iron Mountain, and this last Saturday was perfect for hiking. We got up, quickly dressed in hiking layers, packed food and water, and took off toward the Cascades. We decided to stop off at the ranger station out of Sweet Home and ask about the service road that would cut this hike in half, mainly for our hiking challenged child. I'm glad we did because we were told that that road was still snowed in, in fact the trail still had patches of snow on it. (The total trip is 4.8 miles.)

Hopes were high when we parked at the trail head. C was eager to climb, but I knew this would quickly fade before the first mile was behind us. Iron Mountain is a pretty steep climb and once you are out of the treeline, it is hot sun to the top. My boys hate sun. True Oregonians I guess.

"OK guys, whoever makes it to the top without needing to be carried gets a dollar, and if you make it down you get a quarter."

"I want a dollar! I'm going to be rich!" C announced with a hop, skip, and jump. We were off.

My husband does a good job of making hikes about nature and discovery than pain and fatigue. We stop for each slug and inspect each new flower species. He speaks of fragile ecosystems. He puts moss on his face and become a bearded crazy woodsmen. All these distractions help the boys to keep on. We rested whenever C wanted. We rationed out the peanut and butter sandwiches. There were moments when I thought C was going to give up and disappear into the volcanic soil, but somehow he dug deep, "Am I still getting that dollar?" Yes! Oh yes you are! And on he'd go to the next bend in the trail, the next shady spot.

Maneuvering through the snow patches added to the hike's difficulty and once stopped us completely. Mama and boys rested on a cliff's edge while Hans worked his way around the summit, finding a good path up to the lookout's deck. There was quite a bit of snow covering up any signs of a trail.

But we made it! And it was an adventure. The view was incredible. We could see all Cascade Greats from Mt. Thielsen to Mt. Adams.

Coming down was much easier and spirits rebounded. Every 10 steps C would say, "Didn't I do good Daddy? I am the only four-year-old who has ever climbed Iron Mountain. It was like I was on top of the world and flying. Did I do good Daddy?"

If you are thinking of taking this hike with your children I would wait one or two more weeks so that all the snow is gone and also you'll get to see all the beautiful wild flowers. They will be gorgeous. And if you taking children, find out what motivates them. For my son, a dollar. A small price to pay for a pleasant family outing and a life lesson in perseverance and success. He is so proud of himself.

Yes, I Get A Spring Break

I know I'm lucky. My husband is a teacher, and so spring break is something to be seized in our house. We are all together, the whole week. One year we decided to not go anywhere and just work on projects around the house: mistake. The week went, the rains poured down in true Oregon fashion and before we knew it we were back to the grind.

So, we always try and go somewhere, even if it is just for a night or two. Last year we went into the city, Portland: rode the Max, went to OMSI, ate at Ikea, visited the zoo, and swam in the hotel pool.

There is something magical and exciting about a hotel and a pool for our boys, the ages they are at.

This break we got away and went to Seaside. I hadn't been there in 10 years. And it was perfect. What a great beach town to take kids to. The bonus is that there is much to do there even if it is raining...which is often the case on the Oregon coast. All the activities are covered. I also love the "party" feel that is there. It almost doesn't seem like it should be in Oregon, but it is.

It was worth the longer drive. Other coast towns, like Newport and Lincoln City take half the travel time. It took us a solid three hours.

(The photo showing the feet was taken by me right before I got sick on the Tilt A Whirl.)

Can You Say Vacation?

Yep, that is why there will be little writing this week, but after this week I promise you good things.

Did you all notice that my following went from 101 to 98? I'll try not to freak out over that, feel insecure, or go into depression. Don't worry about me. I'm laying by a lake all week, getting inspiration from the dark waters.

Call Me A Slacker!

OK, for my blog post today, I'm linking you to another blogger. She and I share a bond, a bond of driving to Northern Idaho. Actually, there are quite a few people who take that trek and once we find each other we are instantly closer than we were just moments before. We all share the same knowledge of I-84, of that certain play place, that nasty restroom with the fly strips....so enjoy her post. (Yes, I realize she's driving a different route, but in a way, it is all the same)

Cliff Climbing

But why would they just sit on the beach and watch the waves? Why would they think climbing up the paved path was any fun? Why wouldn't they explore and climb. Scale to the highest heights. They are boys......

A Known Place

You know a vacation has been good when you are ready to go home, but a bit sad about leaving. We spent this last week up in Idaho and Washington, enjoying the family cabin. It sits by a small lake; it is perfect. I've been going to this place for 10 plus years now. It feels very comfortable to me. I think I have almost started to say, "Our cabin," even though it is my husband's families. This cabin was actually the first place I met my future in-laws.

When my husband and I were not even dating yet, he flew me up for the 4th of July and drove me straight from the airport to meet the family and the cabin. I can still see where everyone was sitting, the lighting was low. It was dark and late out. I was nervous...it all worked out because we all still gather at this place of first introductions.

Memories continue to be made in this place. My memories span a decade, my husband's his entire life.

My family never went anywhere more than once. Our vacations were all about seeing new things. I still crave the new and the adventure into uncharted waters, but I also appreciate the comfort of the known. Coming to this place is like putting on an old, warm, cozy sweater.

When I first arrive, I always climb to the second story and sit and look at the wood ceiling. I think it is beautiful. I like to pull open the blinds and see the sun dance on the lake below. I crave and anticipate the traditions of a crackling fire, swimming off the dock, the paddle boat, the 4-wheelers, picking and eating huckleberries.....OK, so I never pick them, but I enjoy eating them. Huckleberry picking is hard work....another blog....

A year doesn't seem complete without a summer visit to the cabin. A winter of snow and fun seems empty without it including this place and the family attached to it.

I love seeing my children anticipate these same types of memories that my husband had as a child. This makes generations now gone somehow connected to the living of our boys. Even though they will never know their great grandparents, they will know a place that started with them. And in this place they will feel complete and comfortable. This will be their sacred space where they grew and discovered.

I like that.

I am home now, and it feels good to get the suitcases unpacked and clothes put away. It is good to be back to a normal routine. There is always something nice about coming home, but when we leave the family cabin it is always bitter-sweet because we are saying goodbye to a friend or even a piece of ourselves. As we drive away I always try and get one last glimpse of the red roof before it disappears for another 6 to 12 months.

This time my husband said, "It feels like the year is now complete. December never feels like the end of the year for me. August and our trip to the cabin is my time of reflection."

And so it is.