Eleven

My middle child had a birthday this week.  Luke, blond as a Viking (their blood does, indeed, flow in his veins), obsessed with fishing, a natural athlete and musician, with lots of fire under his butt (yep, just like his mother), turned eleven.  He is really starting to come into his own, his puppy energy maturing into something deeper, steadier, but no less energetic.  I really like who he is becoming.

Here he is holding fishing spoons he received as a gift, made with silver and gold, which apparently attracts the right kind of fish (it works for me, too, since I love everything glittery and have hoarded such things like a magpie ever since I was a little girl).  Watch out, Luke, your mother will steal your fishing gear while you are sleeping!

He also got waders for fishing, and whipping cream, which is to be sprayed directly in one's mouth in our family.  Yep, that's how we roll.

For his birthday party he invited two of his closest friends.  They spent three (plus) hours watching football at a restaurant, since we don't have TV, and afterwards went home to play football in our yard.  As I'm writing this, I hear lots of cheering and smacking (of footballs, and not heads, I hope).

I adore these preteen boys.  They have known each other since birth and are such good buddies, growing into gangly thoughtful young men, and the best thing is that they still think we adults are kind of cool.  There is not too much eye rolling going on.  Yet.

In other news of the week, we went on a family biking trip to Samish Island, which started with breakfast at a famous bakery, then commenced with blue skies, blue water, and lots of pedaling (little Eva on the ride-behind bike).

Later on, because we were having such a good time, we headed to Padilla Bay, a lovely research facility in a vast estuary providing education and research.  Their exhibits are fabulous and kid friendly, and some of the hiking paths sport lovely views of Puget Sound in one direction, and Mount Baker in the other.

If I were a cow, I would want to graze with a view like that.  See snowcapped Mount Baker in the background?

Other activities this week revolved around autumnal walks in the neighborhood, and COFFEE!!!  I am now officially a coffee drinker, a habit I kicked 20 years ago, but somehow started again a couple of weeks ago.  I love it.  I love the taste, and I love how happy it makes me feel.  I also love milking the goats in the morning and adding a few squirts of milk straight from the teat into my cup.  That's deluxe country living right there.

Special time

We work hard. We play hard. Sometimes, when we play, it's hard work. Case in point: My sons and I bicycled and camped for two days, and it was incredibly fun, and also really hard. We parked the car in Bellingham and loaded up our bicycles with food, water, tent, food, sleeping bags and mats, food, cooking stove, extra clothes, and more food. You gotta have lots of food when you burn a thousand calories an hour. Our buddy Bo accompanied us for the first stretch of this mother-and-son-bonding-adventure. We rode along the famous and scenic Chuckanut Drive, where Puget Sound and lots of islands prettily beckon to bicyclists who try to keep their eyes on the narrow road without much shoulder.

We made it into the Skagit Flats without getting shoved off the road by cars, and were rewarded with a stop at a blueberry farm selling fabulous ice cream.

Both boys carried saddle bags stuffed to the tops, and I towed the bike trailer, which got heavier after every mile. Bo gallantly let me use his fancy bike, which practically pedaled itself, while he rode my ghetto bike with the trailer to give me a break.

After 30 miles, we reached our destination for the night: Bay View State Park, located on Padilla Bay, famous for its Blue Heron breeding grounds and vast mud flats. Bo said goodbye so he could bike all the way back home, and the boys and I settled in. We hadn't brought any books, knitting or playing cards, so it was just us, enjoying each other. We went for walks on the beach (not wanting to get on the bikes again because our behinds were very sore), where we met a gorgeous little Calico kitten. We picked blackberries at our camp site. We waded (or in Luke's case, swam) in the warm water of the bay. We stared at clouds. We stretched our sore muscles.  And then, at 8pm, Mother Dear crawled into her tent and passed out from exhaustion. Here is the view from the tent.

The  next day we visited Padilla Bay Interpretive Center, which is incredible!  You could spend hours in there, and it all counts as homeschooling.  

Then we started the trek home - a different, longer way this time, up Bow Hill Road, by Alger, Samish Lake, and Lake Padden, and up Yew Hill road into Bellingham.  It was pretty much all uphill, and it was very, very hot.  The boys charged ahead, while I huffed and puffed and swore, sweating, sore, but also exhilarated (for the first four hours, at least).  On the way, we jumped into two different lakes to cool ourselves down.  Hours later, once back in Bellingham, we stuffed ourselves with burgers and fries, and on the one and a half hour drive back home to Marblemount, we consumed lots of potato chips (to replace lost salt, ahem).

My camera battery went dead, so I have only this one picture of the second day, at the Interpretive Center.

I love these boys, who are up for their crazy mother's adventures any time!

Back home, we spend a day resting and picking blueberries.  This is what you get when the Sahlin's go picking.

Other items on the agenda: swimming in Bacon Creek with friends, or in my case, jumping into the ice cold water, letting out a piercing scream, and jumping out promptly.  

Harvesting food from the garden, to be made into a yummy dinner:

And lastly, we went to a wedding this week, where part of the entertainment was Karaoke.  In the beginning, it was mostly kids who got up on stage, because it took a while to get the adults drunk enough to attempt it.

Here is a sweet picture of some of the kids, with Eva in tow: