Grandpop Walt treated us to an inspiring performance of dance and acrobatics in New Haven. Before the show we were able to walk to my old haunts at Yale. We have similar pictures to this one from previous years. Crispin and Liam are getting better at making weird faces.
We are in Milford, Connecticut, and the boys are having great fun dashing into the sound and throwing pebbles at waves and pretend targets.
This ad in an old rail car reminded me of Great Grandpop's stories of the long lines of trucks bringing tomatoes to the Camden soup factory back in the day. We are with Matt Kelly and his daughter Clementine.
This ad in an old rail car reminded me of Great Grandpop's stories of the long lines of trucks bringing tomatoes to the Camden soup factory back in the day. We are with Matt Kelly and his daughter Clementine.
On Friday, after cleaning up our wet camp stuff (the rain stopped, thankfully, Friday morning when we were breaking down), we went to nearby Boulder Cave. Again, we were early in the season and were the only ones in the cave; thankfully it wasn't too long (for the Harry Potter scare factor).
Crispin has begun to exercise his freedom of speech. Taking a hike is something he prefers not to do. This cave, fortunately, provided the interest to spark his desire for the walk. No complaints. Lots of questions. Lots of interest.
When I made camping reservations East of Rainer a couple months ago, I assumed it would be Juneuary here on Whidbey and balmy to the East. While in truth weather on Whidbey was gray and rainy while I was away, it was toasty and sunny for weeks in advance and is toasty and sunny here. And at our Bumping Lake campground, it was unseasonably cold (high of 45) and rainy. The boys had a great time nonetheless, and I appreciated their fortitude. Our tent leaked. We used the car to warm ourselves up sometimes. I figured out to put our canopy tent (the one we put over a picnic table) over the sleeping tent, and that kept the puddles out of the tent on our second night.
The Chinook Pass (where you see the boys with the snow) only opened a couple of weeks ago, and obviously most people wait to camp in the mountains until later in the summer when it is warmer. The nice thing was that in a huge campground, we saw almost no other human beings (and the boys and I have yet to watch enough horror movies to be on alert for this). We brought our kick scooters around, and the boys had a fantastic time zooming around the roads and paths. If it had been crowded, they might have knocked over a kindly little old lady from Pasadena, and then there would have been Trouble. As it was, they had fun. I scootered, too.
It reminds me that in all the planning we can do (where are the beautiful trails, the beautiful scenery), it is hard to predict what will be magical. Scootering was magical.
They went fishing, and were pretty quickly satisfied with that experience. It was cold and windy right by Bumping Lake, and standing to fish does not warm you like scootering does.
We lit fires, they cooked smores, I was reminded that eating chilled watermelon first thing on a cold morning is somewhat cold.
They are ready to camp again. Me, too. It will be warmer, and it will be more crowded.
Yesterday the boys were with Bob and Mary Kay, and my faculty meetings had concluded. It was a day off. After 2 morning yoga classes, I headed 32 miles East on I-90 to Rattlesnake Ridge (no snakes there; mystery as to why it has that name). After a 2 mile hike up (nothing technical, but uphill all the way), I came to one set of glorious views. After another 2.5 miles (but never above the tree line), I came to good views and then was glad to turn around and walk back down the mountain. It brought back fine memories of family hikes in the past.
