Water, water, everywhere....

I grew up on a dairy farm in Alaska- swimming meant a cold spring fed lake. And we only went when the temperature was above 80- which didn't happen everyday.  Unless it was the 4th of July- we always swam the 4th of July, even if we "had to take off our parkas to do it", as my father loved to say. 

I did swim. I was of the generation who had to pass a swim course to graduate from college. I did laps at 7700 ft above sea level to take swim classes in PE and  prepare for my test. Pant, pant. Now I feel sorry for all those East coast kids who came from sea level.

http://www.western.edu/calendar/swimming-altitude-training-camp.ics

But my husband grew up in a company town with a Dale Carnegie library AND a YMCA with an indoor pool.  He was a fish.  He learned to scuba dive in that pool and a nearby lake. In Okinawa, I did learn to dive- and on my first open water dive, I sucked down a full tank of air while the rest of the class slowly descended. I had to go back up to the surface almost as soon as the last person got down.   

But somehow our union produced four little fishes. All our kids swam before they walked- not across the pool but between Bill and I.  We raised them in warm, coastal climates and as kids, they were as comfortable in water as I was clamoring over Colorado rocks at the their age.  Water babies. 

But now, I love water. I love the sounds, the soothing rhymthms, the cooling splash. I just prefer to float on  the surface instead of swimming below it.  I did a bit of sailing in high school and Bill and I had a wonderful sail on the Cheseapeake years ago.  So it feels natural to enjoy a  quiet little boat. 

Ah.... relaxing on a kayak

Dreaming of a bigger boat? Naw- just a cool shot

So a few days ago, I got out on the water but this week was also the beginning of creating the next generation of water babies.  Here's my first grandson in....water!

"I like water.... I think."

"Just don't drop me!"

First time in the pool! 

In safe hands....

"Right?  You got me, don't ya?"

And at the beach!  Josiah is two months old today.

Ta da!  Super baby! 

"I'm getting bored.
And I want my daddy's tan. Mom looks pretty good too but I'm so pale! "

"And there I am with mama and my Bebe"

All that water just wears me out!


....and another little fish is initiated!

Messing around in boats

There's nothing . . . absolutely nothing . . . half so much worth doing as simply messing around in boats.

Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows (River Rat to Mole)

Camp Lejeune Marine Corps Base
 North Carolina

Canoe or kayak?

Or classic trawler?

Kayak, of course! 

It aggravates my tendonitis so I probably need some paddle lessons but I love to kayak.  The kayak is a lightweight water craft that's easy to maneuver, glides when you need to rest and completely quiet.  Perfect. 

Heading across the water toward the Marston Pavillion -
"Just don't go LEFT to the open water."
OK by me....

This is the bridge I rode my bike across.
Now I'm going under it!

You know all the pictures the younger generation take of themselves with their phones?  Trying to do it in a kayak is a little tough- I definitely need to practice some time when I can stay still.  And which button does what?

Do I turn it this way?

Is that the right button?

How close do you get?
And keep the boat from drifting into the sun- bad light.

There- lose the sunglasses and just push that button!
On closer inspection- leave the sunglasses on or wear some make up!
I have no vanity. (Yes, I do- you should see all the shots I deleted)

Ah..... feet.
Feet are easy to photograph.

Wildlife viewing. 

Love the light on the water.

 I headed back to the dock, my mission of capturing my water adventure accomplished. I'm working on an article about recreation at Camp Lejune and needed a few photos. I've written one travel article for Military Travel magazine and plan to do more.  http://militaryliving.com/   

A few months ago, this magazine published an article on their web site extolling the amazing joys of space available travel and how "everyone" should avail themselves of this wonderful military perk.

I can't use Space-A.  You must travel with your sponsor and mine has made his final journey.



So I wrote a rather sarcastic email and fired it off to their handy "contact us" link. Turns out the founder/publisher reads her own emails and I  ended up with a new and very understanding friend.  Ann Caddell Crawford is one amazing woman and a ball of energy. She was a military wife who followed her husband....and took her three small children to Vietnam. In 1963.        http://www.thingsasian.com/stories-photos/1138

So long story short, she read my blog about my trips this winter and we talked about her magazine and  the overlooked group of military retirees without spouses.  Would they also be traveling and having stories to tell? You bet!

So I submitted a story about Camp Benning, GA and she's adding a feature to the magazine for solo military retirees.  I'm sure others will contribute but for now I am the voice of "Flying Solo" at Military Travel magazine.

It is fun to see your name in print.    :)

 New Feature! Flying Solo: RV hijinks with Kathryn Cleveland
http://militaryliving.com/

Heading home.

Pictures taken, I turned and headed back to the marina. By this time my forearms were aching and knots were forming along those pesky tendons.  I rested and thought a bit about what I'd write about. It's quiet and peaceful.  And soon, too hot- I forgot how much I detest hot, muggy weather.  So I dug my paddle in and created my own cooling breeze as I glided across the water.

As I approached the marina docks, two young Marines were leaving. They were young and strong but a bit clueless. Their movements powerful but ineffective. They'll learn... or get tendonitis in a few years!

But I was reminded that I've been out on the waters of life, so to speak, for a long time and I've learned to glide a bit. Dig deep when I need to, enjoy the glide when I can, be at peace with my pace.  Those young bucks were just starting out and more power to them.  I'm on the back stretch, heading back to the dock and that's just fine.  We're all out there moving through the water!

And another young family pushes off from the dock.
Let the adventure begin! 

Train up a child....

I love thrift/resale/consignment/old stuff stores. It's a treasure hunt if the mood is right. If it's not, it's just someone else's junk.  But I can usually work up a decent treasure hunt mood.

So yesterday was a marathon thrift shopping day. Which means a post-partum mom, a new grandmother and a eight week old MAN baby  went shopping for six hours in Wilmington, North Carolina. And drove an hour there and back. I am happy to report we all returned and said MAN baby is properly initiated into shopping with the women of his life.

http://www.onceuponachildwilmington.com/

He slept. He smiled at strangers. He ate nicely and didn't object to our choice of restaurants- Whole Foods food court.  Yes! Welcome to civilization- we have three brands of Kombucha and tasty tuna wraps with fresh, DARK lettuce and crunchy fun stuff in the tuna.  And pizza for his mama but don't tell her I told you that. Man baby ate what ever he was offered and wherever- the air conditioned car was easier than the dressing room.  He is a rather messy, noisy eater - Man child all the way.

He likes sitting in the back seat facing his own little mirror. If he fussed a bit, one of the women,the funny one, would hop into the back seat with him... hmm, who's training who?

But he figured out the whole shopping thing. IF it said "Resale, thrift, consignment, kid store.", the car stopped and he was plunked out of the car to smile at more strangers.  He was shoved into slings and pushed down aisles in his fancy stroller.

So MAN baby experienced a day at the treasure hunt with doting women. He got a beach hat, a pair of "pool certified" swimming trunks (who knew those existed....), two new onsies cause he's busting out of his tiny newborn stuff.  His mama bought a sling to haul him through the airport- another rite of passage coming up.  Bebe bought him three "new" books.

Bebe's favorite place.... 

http://bargainboxilm.org/tour-the-store


 He made out like a bandit- what man doesn't like shopping that's all about HIM?  Next time- Home Depot!

The lost is found

I'm going to Canada!

I know, it's a random bit of info but my sister and I are planning a road trip. I'll drive my camper north from Baby Land in North Carolina. After a quick visit in Virginia, I'll pick Janet up at a DC airport and  head north.

http://www.canadacool.com/COOLFACTS/ONTARIO/NiagaraFallsFroze.html

 Really north.  My practical mom said across Iowa, etc is the shortest, fastest, "It shouldn't take more than four days".

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Grand_Hotel-Mackinac_Island.jpg

My sister, my soul mate, said, "I've never been to Mackinac Island (Upper Pennisula, Michigan). Let's go through Canada."  Hurrah for crazy-sister road trips!

Except I had no idea where I put my passport.

In our family home in Virginia, when we asked "Where is.....?", someone would repy (or yell) "It's either in the garage or the basement!" We knew those two topsy-turvy storage spaces would be the likely dump spots.  When I moved out, I realized just how much stuff over the years, we had stashed  and saved for some future and good purpose.  And I thought I had done a thorough purging of that garage and basement until I started putting what I kept into a house 2/3rds the size of the previous one.  I saved too much.

And I haven't been at home in SD long enough to figure out the right space for everthing! It's hard when you don't have the same rooms with the same desk drawers or cabinets. At least that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.

 So we've been hunting for the passport.

And I'm in NC. The passport is probably, likely, hopefully in South Dakota.
"I'm sure it's the little gray safety deposit box....' 'No, well try under the .... or maybe in the ....' 'Is it possibly in the safe at YOUR house?"   Argh....

So... is this God telling us not to go to Canada?  Or we supposed to press through and persevere- well, obviously I'm not going into a foreign country without a passport.  Then I looked at the map and we would save so much time and hassle if we could just go west across Ontario. So the question became- "How long would it take to get a $45 Canada/Mexico only pass?"  Is it worth it?

Can I manipulate circumstance so I  can do what I really want to do?  And declare it was God's intention all along? His perfect will for us to play in Canada?   Does the Creator of the universe care if two sisters go to Canada or Ohio or wherever?


Ring, ring- do cell phones 'ring, ring'?  Well, mine did. My brother was calling and the lost is found, my passport was under my camera bag in the closet.  So THAT"S where I stashed the camera !!

What's the moral?  Organize your house?  Put your valuables in a sensible place and write it down? Don't let the organized spouse die first?

Fret and wonder about the will of God?



Or turn my eyes to the people in this present situation.  Can I cultivate gratitude for the relationships in this complicated life I've made.  In my case-
 
My mom had her suggestions that made good sense AND she wasn't offended when we ignored them.

 My sister loves me and I love her- we're arranging our time because we love to be together.
                 And her husband is a saint.

My brother had asked me if I wanted to buy the house across the road from his.  I did.

Now when I can't find things, leave the water running, forget to turn off the garage light, plant flowers that need to be watered, don't know where to dump garage.... my brother probably wonders about the wisdom of having me across the road. :(    And his wife is a saint, too.

But they search, he mails, he is looking out for me.  We have a closer relationshio now than ever before. My mom prays, my sister plans, my friends shake their heads and look forward to my visits.

 And God, the creator of the universe, does care- He cares that I don't fret, that I hold my life and my road trips in open hands. He wants the people in my life to be more important than the stuff in my life.  He longs for me to relax and enjoy the day I'm given and trust that either the passport is found or the trip is good in another way.  Good in ways that I see only when my heart is tender and open - to Him and to the life He gives.

Some days don't turn out as sweet- it's not a changed trip, it's a changed life.  Lots of things, most things are a bigger deal than a misplaced passport for a pleasure trip.  But if I can be faithful in the little things, I can be trusted with bigger things.   If can admit my shortcomings of organization and memory and not berate myself for it, I can culitvate godly tolerance. If I can humble myself to ask and accept help from others, I can embrace vulnerability and celebrate community.

 God loves me, that makes me valuable, worthwhile, precious. He sings over me with songs of joy- get over the passport, Kathryn, and rejoice in the good stuff!

But when it all comes together and the lost is found, it's a good thing too.
Yes, sir - we're going on a road trip!

Back in Baby Land

Amazing coordination at seven weeks!

An amazing baby....  with his hand firmly stuck in the toy.....

Who sometimes looks like a dork.....

But who smiles at Bebe!

Yep, back in the land of Josiah Robert.  I flew to North Carolina last week and so far, we've taken a few walks, cooked a few steaks (and salmon), watched a movie.... and watched a baby!  I don't remember my kids being this entertaining and Abby seems to appreciate that I laugh when he is frustrating.  

 I do remember the frustrating parts with my own kids- what a different perspective a few years- well, decades, makes.  I hope I can give her a taste of relaxation, a glimpse of the difference humor makes, and at least, memories of enjoying this precious baby time with her mother.   I do love to be with her and watch her become a mother. 

We assume motherhood is conferred at conception or birth.  I love the saying -"Anyone can become a father, it takes a man to become a dad." It must be a knife to those many men who can't just become a father but once a child is in your life, there is a process to becoming a dad, a daddy, Abba.  

So how does that work for mothers? We are instantly mothers but there is also a process where we grow into motherhood, become the nurturer,  embrace the sacrifice.   Jesus' mother, Mary, said in her response to an angel from God, "I am the Lord's servant,". I give up my plans, my concept of what motherhood would be, my timing.  

I found another blog- Jesus Walk, and this is their summation of Mary's response.

Sometimes it takes great turmoil in our souls to come to the place of submission, but come to it we must. Even before Jesus was conceived, Mary was faced with the decision: Will I obey and make way for this King? or Will I take the easy way that avoids difficulty and pain? To her everlasting credit, Mary's response of faith is what our response must be: "I am the Lord's servant. May it be to me as you have said." http://www.jesuswalk.com/lessons/1_26-38.htm

So we play, we laugh, we enjoy. And another man and woman become a father, become a mother.  The sacrifices will be made, the frustrations will come but the joy.... Oh, the joy will last forever. 

A steamy bathroom, getting ready for a bath.

"Will this be fun, Dad?"

"Hmm.... do I like this?"

"I guess it's ok.
Thanks for the modesty drape. I'll appreciate that in ten years."

"OK- I'm bushed. Are we done yet?"

"I mean it, I am so finished with the whole scrub the head stuff."

"NO ONE LISTENS TO ME!
PUT ME DOWN!!

I look like a lobster!"

" I'm rescued! My daddy is awesome."

So we take the clean little man to church and he actually sleeps through the whole service. Ahh.... 

The Protestant Chapel, Camp Lejuene NC.

Weird face, little man. Why didn't the photographer see that?

Ah, that's better. Safe in the arms of Daddy....

Happy Father's Day! 

 A new baby is like the beginning of all things


-wonder, 


               hope, 


                          a dream of possibilities.

A flood's coming....

40 years ago last night, a wall of water rolled through Rapid City, SD and wiped out neighborhoods and a thriving downtown.  Over 200 died, thousands were injured or lost their homes, or both. 

June 9, 1972  

http://rapidcityjournal.com/flood/rapid-city-officials-remember-flood-deaths-city-response/article_1a008c7e-bb22-5392-be92-a1f97f7f9f46.html

Yesterday I hiked up to the "M"-  indicating South Dakota School of Mines.
Remember the billboard in this picture.....

View east from the top-
The white in the foreground is the "M" at my feet.

At midway and in the middle of nowhere?

Nope- the area right below my vantage point called Baken Park,
with wide Jackson Blvd  to the left.
Towards the distance mountains and out of view, there's beautiful Canyon Lake

Directly below to the right is lovely Rapid Creek.

It's a small blue piece of stream between the white bike bath and the tan hiking trail.
 Small, very small.

Serene, placid.
And forty years ago last night, 
this small stream would have covered the bridge in the upper right hand corner.


More likely, it took out the bridge with the debris it collected in the rush downstream.
The rush took out much of Baken Park area, houses floated down Jackson Blvd.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/rcflood1972/show/

The water came six feet up on the grain elevators.
They are 1/4 mile from the stream.

" . . . I was with one crew on the east side of town near Roosevelt Park. The firemen and several men from the South Dakota National Guard were using ropes and ladders to save the folks from the raging (and very cold) waters. These courageous actions saved dozens of victims from the flooding waters that also contained debris, parts of homes, mobile homes, and other materials that clogged the bridges. The diverted waters roared into neighborhoods far distant from the creek. Many bridges broke apart. The roar of the noise can only be compared to a terrible train wreck . 

http://www.rapidcitylibrary.org/lib_info/1972flood/index.asp

The Hotel Alex Johnson was the only building not demolished 
in downtown Rapid City after the flood surged through.

Today, the city  is a model of intelligent response to a natural disaster.  The downtown is thriving  and there is no residential building in the flood plain.

Saturday traffic.... 

Hanging out before a bike ride.

Standing in long lines for a Nathan's Hot dog.

Families hanging out at an outdoor concert at the new downtown plaza.
Downtown pics? drive-by shootings out of the window of my car.
... 

What a terrific park!

It's Canyon Lake Park.

". . . It was a night of absolute terror . . . The Police Department alerted me about 6:30 that the United States Weather Service had alerted the Police Department about the dangers from potentially high waters on Rapid Creek during the next several hours . . . I called my best advisor, Mr. Leonard Swanson, the City Public Works Director, and we met at City Hall. Heavy rains were falling, and Mr. Swanson and I drove to Canyon Lake Park where a city worker and his family lived in the park caretaker’s home, immediately below the dam. Swanny ordered the caretaker, a Parks Department employee, to immediately take his family, leave their evening meal on the table, and get out of the park. The entire family survived the flood. Not a trace of the home (it was city property) or the contents was ever found. The Canyon Lake Dam failed a few hours later . . ." 

 http://www.rapidcitylibrary.org/lib_info/1972flood/index.asp

Dark Canyon, today

When they built Pactola Dam upstream of Canyon Lake and Rapid City,
 they assumed  there would never be another flood.

Fabulous dam

Today, downstream is a picture of peace and tranquility

Forty years ago,  water poured over the spillway at the right.

In the life of many cities built along waterways, floods happen.  We rely on dams and in 1972, one failed.  The Pactola dam held but Canyon Lake could not.


The Rapid City Flood of 1972 was one of the deadliest floods in U.S. history. More than 200 people lost their lives in a period of hours on the night of June 9-10, 1972.

" . . . I stopped at the courthouse about 7:00 (am) after I was able to drive the city car from the north side of the creek over a partially destroyed bridge to the south side of the creek. The look on the faces of the folks who were reporting missing family members is still framed in my memory. They feared the absolute worst but were praying for miracles. Many broke down in the temporary offices with worry and fear. Words cannot define this fear and suffering . . . "

Read the full text of Mayor Barnett's remarks (.pdf/144kb) 

Life goes from living good along a inviting river to a storm of death and destruction. 

 In people's lives, floods happen-

People die, or move, or betray us.

We lose our health, our money, our relationships.

We hit a deer, we fall out of a tree,we get cancer.

Can we insure against heart ache? Against being human?

 

We wake up in the morning and view the wreckage of something we couldn't image or hadn't prepared for. We built our dams-  heatlthy bank account, secure job, decent marriage, kids who appear to be doing well, a Christian faith that promised God's blessings.   And just like physical dams,  the saftey pecautions we create can break.  

Sorrows flow through a city, through a life, through a heart.

What do we do? Do we rebuild- trust the foundations or start over if we must. Are we resilient? Do we recognize our mistakes and forgive ourselves?  

Yesterday after a lovely day of hiking, errands  and a drive through the Hills taking pictures on my phone.... the sky looked like this at dinner time. 

Storm's coming.

And as I wrote this, the rains pounded on my roof. Rain coming down, hard.  I don't fear a flood but I know better than to think one won't happen.  Maybe it won't be water washing my house away but floods come.

Bad stuff happens- we live in a world that is no longer the paradise God intended for us 

and we suffer pain and sickness and loss. 

And just before the rains really came last night, the sky was darkened, the light  changed..... and a rainbow appeared.

Our symbol of hope, a future, a tomorrow-
after the storm. 

After the Flood, God promised the righteous remnant- Noah and his family, the seed of a people for God,  "I'll never flood the earth again".  God didn't promise - " I'll never let bad things happen ...."

Rapid City is justifiably proud of their town's recovery. They have a 12 mile greenway with parks, bike trails and recreation facilites all along the Rapid Creek.  They guard against developement in the flood plain and the city is a renewed, probably more attractive and liveable place than in 1972. 

I cannot capture both ends with my phone .....

....but my house and land were under the rainbow. A double rainbow.

I had my flood- my husband died, way too early, way too young. 

And my life was tossed in waves of grief and uncertainity. 

 

But God promises to provide for widows. 

God promises to redeem the pain.

God promises He'll never leave me or forsake me. 

 And God is faithful to His promises. 

And life, after the flood, is good.