Free falling

Read about taking a flying leap here.  Maybe "follow" me, too.

On butts and burns and when they coincide

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Hot Yoga

post-Bikram

Seems like everyone knows about my passion for running, but did you know I have another activity that challenges and strengthens me?  Yep, it even provides balance for the physical demands of pounding the pavement as well as an opportunity to tune in mentally to my body in a manner that running, due to the necessity of remaining aware of what is going on in my surroundings,  does not offer.  May I present one of my favorite four-letter words - yoga!

I first experienced yoga as a sixth grader.  There was an after school program at my elementary building and I enjoyed it as much as a self conscious prepubescent girl could.  I was a very active kid and remarkably flexible, so it appealed to me immediately.  I think that 12 was a little young for me to grasp the mental component, though.  Actually, that probably remains my biggest challenge.

Over the years I've practiced yoga with varying degrees of commitment. When my older boys were young, I took a class at the JCC in Albany taught by Cameron Thomas. (Ironically enough, she mediated my divorce last year - small world, huh?) Cameron was the perfect yogi - she was meticulous about form and taught me a lot about the poses and breathing.

I've told you before how much I enjoy the Sunday morning class at the Yoga Loft, but I've been expanding my horizons, particularly while on vacation.  For the third summer, I've taken yoga classes taught by Patty Renaud in Wellfleet. The classes aren't incredibly physically challenging, but they do provide an excellent opportunity for me to mentally release.  I've been really close to dozing at the end of class - a true vacation.

Last winter when I was in Palm Springs (yeah, I like saying that) I found a studio that offered a variety of classes.  I managed to squeeze 4 classes in during my 5 days, two of which were modified Bikram classes.  I don't know much about Bikram, or "hot" yoga, other than it is an ass-kicking workout, even when it is abbreviated to 70 minutes and 102 degrees.

Last week on Martha's Vineyard I took two legit Bikram classes - 90 minutes, 104 degrees in the studio.  I wisely paid for two classes ($16 plus $2 to rent a mat) guaranteeing that I would return a second time.  Seeing as how during the initial class I was afraid that I was either going to die, pass out or puke, it was a good move.

If you are interested in a workout that stretches your muscles and relaxes your brain, I heartily recommend finding a Bikram studio.  I've heard good things about this place, but haven't yet made it there myself.  This type of yoga is not for the faint of heart - bring plenty of water and move into the poses with caution if you're inexperienced with practicing.  And be prepared to literally drip sweat from virtually every pore.  And speaking of that - apologies to those unfortunate enough to have set their mats up next to mine on Friday.  Hope I didn't sweat any of Thursday night's tequila on you.  I was on vacation, after all.

What's wrong with oysters?

After days without wifi - a DelSo Wordpress post!

Beach Bonfire - UPDATED with photos!

When I was polling the boys, prior to our annual Cape Cod trip, about what they might be interested in doing Griffin requested a bonfire on the beach.  Yep, the same boy who took surfing lessons and wanted to visit L.A.  He's a dude in the making, fer sure.  

The process for legally having a fire at one of a select few of Wellfleet's beaches (3 ocean beach options) is fairly straight forward: you must have a permit and permits are issued on a first come, first served basis, day of only. By the time I hit the beach office at 10:00 in the morning, two of the three beaches were "full" already, leaving White Crest, a beach I don't recall visiting in the past, as our default option.  Because a full moon was expected, I happily took my free permit and mentally made a to-do list...

The little guys were in charge of gathering kindling wood and they did a super job making a pile of sticks and twigs.  Actually, they made two piles, one of which was firewood.  The other stack of branches was their arsenal of stick weapons.  Mostly rifles, I believe.  Both stacks were tossed into the car, and ultimately on to the fire, a situation which required profuse apologies and promises of weapon gathering come daylight.  Additional items acquired included graham crackers (we already had Hershey bars and marshmallows), more significant wood to burn (we had to choose from "hardwood" or "softwood." Have at it, jokesters!) and a lighter.  With all materials in hand, we headed to the beach just in time to see the moon seemingly rise from the majestic Atlantic.  Stunning.

You may have noticed I neglected to mention paper to assist in starting the fire.  

We neglected to think of, much less, bring paper.  No worries.  We cleaned our cars out of expired insurance id cards, printed out directions and other miscellaneous bits of paper from our glove boxes.  And the graham cracker box was pretty handy, too.  I have to say, we built a stupendous fire.  It was perfectly constructed in that pyramid/tepee shape and it burned beautifully. 

 

There was a breeze blowing from the south (east?) and the flames danced in the darkness as the moon played hide and seek with some errant clouds.  Marshmallows were toasted and our wild things frolicked on the beach, amped on sugar and salt air. Memories were made which will remain vivid far beyond the glow of our fire's embers. 

Great idea, Griffin.

Defining Luxury

Someone needs to explain to my children that spending two weeks at the beach every summer is a luxury, not something to be taken for granted. It's always been important to me that the boys have traditions in their lives, certain experiences that provide a constant thread throughout their childhoods.  Cape Cod vacations have been a part of their summers literally for their entire lives.  While there, we always eat at the Lobster Pot, we listen to the same song as we cross the bridge in Bourne, there is ice cream nearly every day.  It's what we do.

But, something seems to have backfired.   Their attitude is in danger of morphing into entitlement - is this how that happens?  Somehow they've gotten the impression that everyone spends two weeks frolicking in the Atlantic each and every year.  All of the preparations, the shopping and stocking up on tequila chips and granola bars, the packing of the linens, the beach toys, the clothing...the arrangements for the house and our dog while we're away...the bikes...they've gotten the impression that everything will managed. By me, apparently.  And, of course, I will take care of them and all the necessary details involved with making us all comfortable for two weeks in a place or two not our home.  It's what I do.

I work two jobs to be able to afford a two week vacation in Cape Cod.  This is a luxury. Which brings me to healthcare...I am firmly of the belief that every one in this country should be able to have access to medical care.   Getting sick and requiring medical attention is a completely different set of circumstances. It is a necessity.  I've been without health insurance and it is a bad place to be, certainly about as unlike a vacation at the beach as I can imagine. 

I understand that we all have issues with how our taxes are spent - I personally wish we spent as much money on education and the well being of our citizens as we do on war, but shouldn't everyone be able to bring their sick children to a doctor? If I lost my job, a possibility in these economic times when districts are eliminating positions left and right, my biggest fear would be healthcare. As someone who has already had cancer twice, as well as weird heart issues (obviously, a precise medical term), I can't imagine health insurers would be willingly lining up to give me coverage. What do you think? I don't know as much about Obamacare as I probably should, but it seems like a starting point as our country considers the health and well being of our citizens. To me, it seems a positive indication that someone cares about a basic and essential need in a civilized society. I think I might spend some time at the beach talking to the boys about how lucky we are to have two weeks at the beach. And health insurance every day.

The Sun Also Rises - Vineyard Haven, August 2011

What are you afraid of?

When did the thought of doing something new become an occasion we were more afraid of than challenged by?

I've been thinking about fear and its ability to paralyze a person. How many opportunities do we deny ourselves because we are afraid of what may happen if we take that step in a new direction? In many ways, the last year has been very scary for me. There have been surgeries and diagnoses that have frightened me, yet I have learned how to contend with medical situations which are out of my control - local anesthesia and information. I have made the choice to end my marriage, despite the anxiety I have about raising three happy, well adjusted boys in two households.  Ultimately, though, I  know that the condition "happy" has to begin with me. I committed to buying the marital home even though the financial responsibilities scare the crap out of me. Optimism, a hardcore work ethic and good credit will hopefully help me to manage this responsibility. 

These are big things - health and family and finances... I've contended with these situations because I had to, options were limited and I needed to take action with the belief that tomorrow would bring better things.  The  certainty of not doing something must be considered as potentially deathly as taking a risk, right?

I've just returned from a wonderful vacation where I consciously did two things that frightened me. The first, pictured above, was a leap jump off a bridge.  Prior to my trip to the beach, I had attended a party at a friend's lake house fully intending to jump into the lake from his deck, upper level, of course.  The day of the party I absolutely bailed on that idea due to fear.  Even the lower deck was too high for my comfort  and I ultimately ended up sliding into the water rather than leaping.  Fail.  This bridge was my chance for redemption and I embraced it.   The shriek  I emitted as I pushed off the bridge was my body's shout out to the universe - my "Hello, I'm here!"  

The second scary thing I did was a bit more foolhardy, I rode my son's bicycle in the pitch dark, feeling like a 14 y/o.  It was so dark I couldn't see my hand in front of my face, a sensation I enjoy when I'm on my feet in my home, but not when I'm in an unfamiliar place, riding a bike I'd never ridden before.  (With a helmet, of course.) I was really scared!  Tree branches were a genuine concern, and there were other unexpected obstacles, too, like misplaced telephone poles between the curb and the sidewalk that were a real peril.  And the word that kept running through my head was "reckless." But, was it?  Really?  I mean, I rode slowly, using caution.  I was mostly sober.  Yet I kept returning to the question "Why am I inviting fear unnecessarily into my life?"  

Maybe the better question is, "Why aren't I?"

Sunsets

Lieutenant's Island, Wellfleet

Lieutenant's Island, Wellfleet

 

Lieutenant's Island, Wellfleet - G and me

Vineyard Haven, Martha's Vineyard

My boys and me

Vineyard Haven, Martha's Vineyard

Vineyard Haven, Martha's Vineyard

Smells like Martha's Vineyard

Wet dog
Fudge
Skunk
Wild roses
Salt
Tar
Pine needles
Diesel fuel
Sunscreen
Cut grass

Sand in the vaseline - whatever that means

And in the sheets.  And on the floor.  And in my car.  After a week's vacation at the beach, I'm unsure if the pervasive sand is bothering me more, or less. Trying to sleep with random grains of sand in my bed is only slightly less difficult than preventing 4 boys from getting sand in my bed to begin with.  Pshaw, Princess and the Pea.  Sand is way more annoying than any benign green vegetable.  My wagon is filthy.  I have become so disturbed by the external dirt on my car that the interior's imitation of an explosion in a sand-filled minute timer factory doesn't phase me any more.  And speaking of time...

These two weeks at the beach are something I look forward to every year. Some folks define summer by track season in Saratoga or Jazz Fest, but, for me, it is the two weeks spent in Massachusetts in late July, that mean summer. I sometimes reflect on how blessed my family is to enjoy the travel opportunities that we do.  There is something intensely satisfying to me when I hear my children make reference to a place we have visited.  Just today Liam reminded Quinn that the last carousel ride he took was in Florence.  How cool is that?  I recall a total of two vacations from when I was a child, both camping trips taken with family friends, certainly not weeks spent seaside or going anywhere a passport is required. 

I can remember the precise moment when I decided that my eventual family would travel.  I was a Mother's helper in the early 80's for a family in my hometown.  During a particular summer, we spent a long weekend in the Hamptons at the home of a business associate of the husband's and I was incredibly impressed by the lifestyle the homeowners enjoyed.  The house was beautiful, lots of glass, a saltwater swimming pool, grass made green through the painstaking application of pesticides and attention.  In the living room area there was a series of shelves that were filled with photo albums, each meticulously labeled: "France, 1979," "London, 1980," " "Newport, 1981." Wow.  More than the house or the pool, I wanted THAT.

So, the boys go places, see new things, revisit familiar spots away from home and retain memories and experiences which will forever change them.  And if one of the related expenses is the need for good car washing and a few night's of less than ideal sleep due to grains of sand in my bed, so be it.  If I can consider each of those individual particles of sand a potential memory, being inundated by sand doesn't seem so bad at all.  

Today's epiphany while running

When I run I always learn something. Sometimes it is about the terrain or the location where I am running. Often, running is an exercise in gaining mental clarity while simultaneously eliminating stress. Frequently I discover something new about the capabilities and/or limits of my physical body. Knowledge gained by exertion, exploration and endurance. Good stuff.

Many of my favorite vacation moments in the past 20 years or so, involve running. This past week on the Cape, I have literally run the full gamut. Gentle runs on sandy roads, excruciating uphill runs, exceedingly short sprints to catch high tide and leap from a bridge. As I ran today, I admired the view with sincerity, counted my blessings with gratitude, and listened to the internal symphony of my body as the aches and minor pains came together musically. A more pessimistic person, might describe it as a cacophony, but, you know me, optimistic to the end -and that's despite my iPod's battery quitting .5 mile into my run.

Already this year, I've run gazing out on both the Atlantic and the Pacific Oceans. I've run in the desert and the-feels-like-desert of Albany in a spectacularly hot and beautiful July. I've run in mountains and on an island. I've experienced locations both new and old to me in a completely different manner because my feet have been touching the ground rather than the gas and brake pedals. Running is an amazing way to explore and become acquainted with one's surroundings. There's an incredible amount of freedom in running - it's your own pace, your own route, your own adventure. How can you fail to notice your surroundings when you're literally making physical, rhythmic contact over a distance of miles?

Running, or walking, is often the least expensive, most effective means of expanding one's knowledge of both the internal and the external. That's an exercise I hope to never grow tired of.

Table for 5 (or why dinner as a family can be continued despite impending divorce)

I believe most people get married believing it is forever, not for ever. Introducing children to a relationship adds some additional concrete to the mix and, when all is said and done within the marriage and it is time to move on from being a couple, the presence of children continues to cement the two of you together for the imaginable future. Obvious, right? Nothing ground-breaking, just classic, common sense.

Although it is evident that every marriage has its own unique set of circumstances, it seems that divorces meet a few consistent themes. Usually they involve a quality of life diminishment, damage to the children, complicated visitation and financial arrangements, a complete re-writing of the holidays and traditions...

Positive impacts of divorce, and there is the potential for there to be some, aren't spoken about in anything above a whisper. Things like more focused parenting, increased time for personal interests and pursuits, less conflict, opportunities to rewrite holidays and traditions...

Every family has meaningful rites, whether it is the appreciative phrase one says as they arrive safely at home, or a special song played during a particular annual car trip. Things that have significance. I think most of these rituals are priceless, yet cost nothing. Why wouldn't a family want to continue these traditions? With some sensitivity and humor, I think it can (and should) happen - everyone benefits.

So, we gathered together as a family of five for a few days at the beach and everyone survived, I mean thrived. Picnic lunches were shared, our natural rhythm of tag team parenting easily fell back into place, and we went to our family's beach joint for a meal, where we sat together as a party of five. Instead of the boys recalling this as the summer their parents split, maybe they'll remember making some more family beach memories with Mom and Dad. And we'll all try to remain cognizant that a table for five is a privilege, not a punishment.

Shucked up in Wellfleet

I love Wellfleet. I love oysters. I love my life.

Food on the Cape

When we visit Cape Cod, our traditional-number-one-place-where-we-always-eat is the Lobster Pot in Provincetown.  Be it lunch or dinner, we always enjoy our meals at this landmark spot and a trip to the Cape would be incomplete without at least one meal here.  The menu is extensive but we always get seafood and I usually get one of their amazing bloody Marys, which, in my mind, pairs perfectly with fish. I've sampled and recommend their chowder, the sauteed calamari, the baked stuffed lobster, and the tuna sashimi.  Everything we've ever been served is fresh and meals are accompanied by family style salad service.  Do not miss their sesame salad dressing!

We don't often get more than one date night when we're vacationing with the kids, but, as they get older, I imagine we'll be able to ratchet this up a bit.  The last few years we've devoted our night out to The Wicked Oyster, but I'm thinking we're going to expand our horizons after this year's experience.  I don't often have buyer's remorse after a meal, but the first thing I thought of the morning after our dinner here, was the crap piece of fish I had been served.  I should have sent it back and I started the day annoyed, which is not good.  The food wasn't bad it just wasn't what it should have been - our beet salad tasted a bit dirty, the sea scallop appetizer was ok but seemed to be overwhelmed by the corn relish and the fish of the day entree (halibut) was a joke.  The piece of fish was so thin on the ends that it was crunchy and the middle was more than a little dry.  I'm sorry that they served me an inferior piece of fish and I'm more sorry that I didn't send it back and give them an opportunity to correct their error.  The duck confit salad was delicious, but we'll probably give this place a pass in 2011.

If you're looking for a casual meal with something for everyone, PJ's is the place.  I'd been trying to resist my urge to eat fried scallops, but, the day I finally caved it was at PJ's, and I have no regrets.  The food is prepared to order and includes some terrific fried chicken for the landlubbers.  Our family of four ate really well for less than $60 which is a feat on the Cape.  This place is definitely busy, but we like to slip in for a late lunch/early dinner at 4 pm or so and generally don't wait long.  Also a good spot for ice cream and milkshakes frappes.

image beachcomber.com

The Beachcomber in Cahoon Hollow is the only place in Wellfleet where you can take a  beach break and climb a dune to get a meal and/or drinks.  There is nothing fancy about this place, and you'll be surprised how quickly the check adds up, but the fish is fresh and the drinks are strong - what more do you want?  I like their fish tacos, their chowder and the steamed mussels.  They also have a raw bar and I swear I ate the best oysters of my life there last week.  Despite being a hardcore live music venue, this is the place my kids always want to go to - why fight it?

We've spent a lot of money over the years at Emack and Bolio's in Wellfleet, but this year I heard about a fairly new spot in Truro for ice cream and we gave it a try.  Sweet Escapes was certainly a good addition to our ice cream options and we very much enjoyed their eclectic flavor combinations - the salted caramel flavor was fabulous and there are some other intriguing flavors that I'm looking forward to trying next summer - hello, lavender fig, I'll be back.

Now that you know some of our favorites, please share yours.