Vertigo

Oh, my! Summer has gotten away from me! And I feel just like the image in this photo: rotating 'round and 'round, until I'm in danger of falling, and scraping my face across the pavement.

A friend reminded me tonight that I hadn't written in a long time. And I have no excuse, other than the one I'm about to give: summer vertigo.

It's a force that swirls in every year. It's a wave that takes me by surprise, every time. June rolls around and I think I have so many weeks ahead of me--so much time--sharp, sun-carved days, one after the other. Time for hiking, beach-walking, river-floating; time to hang out with the kids. But, in a heartbeat, it disappears.

This year, a twister swept through.

My daughter traveled over the mountains to Bank's Lake; then back to Camano Island, across the Sound to Orcas Island--weeks and weeks of fun (!!!) without her parents . . .

Mike traveled to Kansas City (no fun there, but, that's his job--right?) and then to Montana.
The middle of July rolled around and Mike's planned trip to Africa with our son, Daniel, suddenly materialized: British Airways to London, on to Nairobi; a van ride out to Kijabe, Kenya--a place all four of us lived three summers ago. Daniel turned 17 in Kenya--celebrated with Mike and a friend--on safari with Wildebeests, Hippos and Giraffes.

I got to read two and a half weeks of male email and wished I was there.

I sound like I'm whining. But I'm not. Yes, I've been at home, ostensibly in Seattle, although in reality I've spent most of my time on the east side of the mountains. In the land of sunlight and sage. Could there be a better place to be? (Only if it meant a place that contained the rest of my family, all the time. Forever.)

This summer, I've taken refuge at Chimayo. It's a new place for us; a place still being populated with memories, family stories, and the infrequent nose-prints of kids turning toward adulthood. And so, this summer has been particularly special--

I have been allowed precious solitary time at Chimayo, the place of my longing.
Upon their return from the sea, Kristin and her friends have wielded inner tubes and conquered the cold mountain waters of both the Chewuch and Methow Rivers.
The dogs have braved the summer scourge of yellow jackets dive-bombing the porch.
Though the tomatoes are struggling (because our summer nights have been so cold) my herb garden is thriving.
And most exciting, on Saturday, we will calm the vertigo.

Eight of us will settle in at Chimayo--my family of four, plus my sister and brother in law and 'the cousins'--for eight days.

What a relief to stop the spinning. And, what a gift!

Photos:
kristin spinning, mt. baker, july,2007
view from chimayo, august, 2007