Smells of the Pacific Northwest and other memorable geographic smells

My brother hooked me up with some music in college by The Young Fresh Fellows "Sounds of the Northwest." The introduction sounded like something from a filmstrip or an old tourist film--with tracks of seagulls, crashing waves and a ferry horn. I loved listening to this while in my Midwest exile, as it reminded me of home.

Today I was reminded of the smells of the Pacific Northwest as my olfactory nerves drifted me toward memories from the years of traversing the lands of the South Puget Sound. The landscaping material known as "beauty bark" sits in huge mounds in my rental complex waiting to be laid out. I smelled the stuff long before I saw it on a walk this morning. I thought of all the smells that I smelled here, different from all the odors of South Dakota and other places in the Midwest.

+ Tacoma Aroma (a distinct and pungent odor, maybe something like "Sex Panther" cologne)
+ A faint smell of the various evergreen trees combined with the dampness after a rain.
+ The air of the Salish Sea, a bountiful combination of sea life and brine--yet not quite as strong as the ocean.
+ The powerful spring blossoms of April and May.
+ Fresh scones from the Puyallup Fair.
+ Fish and clam chowder cooking at Ivar's.
+ The thin coolness of the Alpine air in the Cascades.
+ The powerful smell of hops coming from the many local breweries over the years. In my youth, it was Olympia and Rainier. Now it's Red Hook.

I could live without Tacoma Aroma (it's not as bad as it used to be in the 70's and 80's), but the bark, dampness and evergreen scent takes me to a better place.

I am also reminded of the smells of my Midwest exile:

+ The smell of hog processing at the John Morrell plant in Sioux Falls (aka "The Morrell Smell).
+ The smell of heat, corn and humidity all over East River South Dakota.
+ The smells of harvest time--processing hay, corn, soybeans, wheat and other grains--it almost inspired me to think of whole grain breads and a stew full of vegetables. That smell helped me find joy, exhilaration and relief for finally feeling a chill in the air after 6 months of heat.
+ Manure
+ The overwhelming smell of grasses that go absolutely crazy in the spring after laying dormant all winter.
+ The almost complete lack of odors (outside of manure) during a harsh winter.

The only time I enjoyed the smells of the Midwest was during the harvest time--about an 8-week period where I watched the hard work of people who help provide our food. People worried, celebrated and toiled with passion. I disliked the smells for the most part, and the harvest time almost made up for it. I appreciated those smells, but the smells of the Northwest can never be replaced.

Attempting to figure out my degree of disgust

My dear wife and I are working through season two of Mad Men. It took her a little longer to get hooked than I did. I think the writing on the show constitutes true story telling, at least the way I was taught. A story involves change in a character. The twists and turns in Don Drapers life and the changes he endures makes the story fascinating, regardless of his skewed moral compass. Peggy is also an interesting character in that sense.

Fine storytelling aside, there are some aspects to the stories in Mad Men that are challenging to watch. Some reflect "old-fashioned values," other values reflected:

+ Blatant sexism--though it is a heroic storyline to watch what Peggy encounters as she makes her way through the advertising world.
+ Smoking cigarettes wherever you darn well please without consideration for others.
+ For all the talk about the lack of social graces in today's world, the objectification of women is startling, it only happens in different ways and places today that is certainly not "social grace".
+ No social stigma for marital infidelity for a man (Draper is known as a "connoisseur" of women).
+ Alcohol consumption during work hours was no big deal.

I could go on and on, but I was most disgusted by another "old-fashioned value" in episode four of season 2, when the Draper family shares a picnic, and they actively leave their garbage in the middle of the park. I'm not sure why this scene troubled me the most, but for all of the things I could have screamed at the television related to Mad Men--the litter was the most disgusting. For that action of litter I could come up with no sympathy. What was more interesting is justifying that action with the question of daughter Sally to her parents. "Are we rich?" Soon after that statement, the garbage went flying.

Mad Men constantly makes me wonder what our children will find utterly foolish about our social conventions and values. Some of them truly are foolish, and we will be exposed. I think that is part of the intent of the show--and I find this writing and storytelling more provocative and effective cultural analysis of the 50s and 60s than films like "Welcome To Pleasantville." The characters in Mad Men are much more interesting and the story lines still connect viewers to current societal themes.

Politics (entry #6 in the Madhouse Gazette South Dakota Lexicon)

South Dakota has a strange love affair with U.S. Senator John Thune (at least as seen by the rest of world). Many people can't understand why South Dakota would vote out Tom Daschle, someone with seniority, clout, influence and good leadership (okay, he had a hard time doing his taxes, but what politician doesn't), and vote in John Thune.

For any South Dakotan, the political move from Daschle to Thune makes perfect sense. The folks of the Northern Great Plains strongly believe in their values and way of life, yet they struggle with their image when their perspectives move to a national stage. This conundrum of belief and identity are residual effects of the Scandinavian concept of Jante Law. Jante Law is an interesting variable considering Daschle's political fall: I remember that South Dakota public discourse and conventional wisdom said that Daschle was getting "too big for his britches." He needed to be voted out. It didn't matter that Daschle was Senate Majority Leader, accomplished much for South Dakota through his position, and was a marginal presidential candidate--Daschle had to be taken down a peg or two. It didn't help matters that he was a Democrat, either.

The love being articulated for Thune sounds a little like Brokeback Mountain, with which people in the state tried to distance themselves through vitriol and condemnation. I had to laugh when I read the commentary on Thune's rising prominence in the aforementioned link. While I lived in South Dakota, I found the politics maddening. Now that I'm on the outside looking in, South Dakota politics are interesting.

Thanks to Allison Kilkenny's recent blog post referencing Thune for the inspiration to reflect upon my life with South Dakota politics.

The Hunter Chronicles (part 2)

I couldn't write anymore about Hunter today. The grief is exhausting. In place of writing a longer entry of The Hunter Chronicles, I sent a donation to the place where we adopted Hunter in Waukesha, Wisconsin. I sent the accompanying note with the donation (I also sent the above pictures):

Hunter was a 2-year old (almost 3) chocolate lab my wife and I adopted at HAWS in April 2000 (29th? 30th?). He was about the best birthday present I ever received. I had never had a dog in my home. He was the best dog I could ever imagine--great with everyone in our growing family. He loved rides in the car, walks, chasing a ball and cuddling. We had two daughters while we had Hunter--he loved them and tolerated them (very necessary).

We were his third owners, and my wife told him we would be his "forever family." All he ever wanted was to be with us. His health declined over the last 2 years, he lost about 30 pounds, and we put him down on Veterans Day (Nov. 11) after 12 1/2 years of life. We had a good day together to say goodbye. We took Hunter on some of his favorite nature walks, gave him some of his favorite treats, a trip to the beach on the Puget Sound, and a bath. He wasn't alone his last 72 hours of life. We have holes in our lives and hearts because he is gone.

I've dedicated a song to Hunter's memory in my own daily living, "What A Wonderful World" by Louis Armstrong--I think of him all the time. If I knew what Hunter was thinking, the song seems to match his thoughts. I wanted to share a little bit of Hunter's story and offer a small donation because of the great experience we had at HAWS, and thank you for holding on to Hunter for us before he became part of our family. We are thankful for what you do.

Autumn (Entry #5 in the madhousegazette South Dakota Lexicon)

Autumn in South Dakota is a season that can produce some of the most glorious colors on the planet--about every 6 or 7 years, or if you don't blink during a few choice days in the month of October. South Dakota specializes in Earth tones, especially Eastern South Dakota--with the dearth of evergreen trees and lack of sizable aqua-topography--one has to learn to appreciate Earth tones or go crazy.

The leaves changing color can be quite beautiful. However, multiple variables must align:

1. Wet summer. Possible.
2. Cool and/or low wind September. Less likely than #1.
3. Low wind October once the leaves actually turn color. Almost impossible.

In order for autumn beauty to last more than 3 days, these three variables must align. A stiff wind (almost constant) can take down awe-inspiring color in about 3 days. I remember being thankful to be in South Dakota during the autumn months--when the cool down finally comes (ahhh)--then I have my hopes dashed with the first big wind from the Northwest comes and the leaves fly through the air in a Technicolor (fall version) display (amazing in its own right) and the landscape turns to a depressing drab that is only moderated and made peaceful and calm by the first beautiful snow.

I didn't realize the brevity of glory in a South Dakota autumn until I returned to the Pacific Northwest, where the fall colors have surrounded me in what seems to be like strategic stages of color turning for about 3 weeks--with one tree on WA-16 that continues to greet me in varying lipstick shades of red for going on 2.5 weeks. I keep waiting for the autumn glory to be complete, but it keeps on going. South Dakota colors are comparable, but maybe their short annual visit has made me appreciate my return to the PNW even more.

Favorite Autumn Drives and the Fall Soundtrack

I have driven copious miles recently. Some open road driving with my family (about 3500 miles) and the most frenzied set of back and forth, traffic-weaving, kid-toting, commuting I've ever done. What keeps me more than sane in that environment is my favorite time of year--the fall color display. I will plan my life around seeing some fall colors. Sometimes I take pictures, sometimes I soak in the cool atmosphere with those I love. I could easily say the Northeast US has the best fall colors (always great, but somewhat impractical for me), but I also have other favorites:

+ Northern Minnesota around Bemidji
+ The Minnesota River Valley between Mankato and New Ulm
+ The Cumberland region in Middle to East Tennessee
+ Virginia, especially around the Blue Ridge Mountains
+ Heading toward Northern Wisconsin from the Milwaukee metro toward Ripon and Green Lake.

I forgot how great the fall colors could be in the Puget Sound region. WA-16 on the Kitsap Peninsula has quite a display of fiery orange and red fall maples with a nice contrast to the evergreens. This display reminded me of how much I did take for granted--Mt. Rainier with the Puget Sound, color burst maples, evergreens and the Olympics--all mysteriously cottoned with fog, as if Bob Ross and God worked together to burn the images in my brain. My photography can't do this justice. I need to stop and at least try.

Some songs play better for me during the autumn months. I like bluegrass this time of year and almost anything with steel guitar. I don't know why. There's a few other songs that seem to register as well. My Fall Soundtrack:

Let Me Touch You For Awhile--Alison Krauss
Gravity--Alison Krauss
Jessica--Allman Brothers
Ramblin' Man--Allman Brothers
September--Earth, Wind and Fire
Avenues--Whiskeytown
Best of Luck--Nickel Creek
Lonesome Wind Blues--Rhonda Vincent
It'll Never Be Thru With Us (Until It's Thru With You)--The Wilders
That Old Time Religion--The Wilders
Green and Gray--Nickel Creek

Getting ready for another vacation

After almost 6 weeks of solid work in the office and the community, I'm getting ready for another trip. Six weeks of working outside the home has turned me back into a morning person. I am way too tired at night to function. I gather rally my gumption and give the girls a quality evening for bath time, homework, reading and prayers. I could barely bring myself to fold any laundry last night. I feel like I'm making up for lost time in adult conversations--so work energizes me at this point, even though I'm an introvert. I haven't earned a vacation in terms of time served, it will be good for pacing to get away. I'm glad my congregation gave me some grace so I could travel back to South Dakota with my family. My dear wife has a reunion to attend, so we're making a family trip out of it.

Thinking it's been almost 6 months since we came to the Pacific Northwest, it sometimes feels like a long time, yet other times--we just departed. Days have rarely flown by for me--I don't know if it's a gift I have, something I have yet to experience, or what it is about my brain that gives me an even pace to my days. I'm looking forward to seeing a few friends and watch my dear wife enjoy the glory of her college days and friends.

What needs to be accomplished before departure is what feels oppressive.

+ Dog needs a major health check up and prep for being kenneled.
+ Honda Element needs new tires. Especially with all the mountain snow across the Cascades and Rockies in recent days.
+ My home office is in a shambles. I barely know which end is up in there.
+ Small thing, yet still time consuming--I need a haircut, for what hair I have remaining.
+ Pack for the 1500 mile drive--kid provisions, dog provisions, contingency scenarios, temporarily cleaning the vehicle.
+ Communicate with service providers and educators about absence.

I will be adding to this list, no doubt.

I've learned enough lessons over the years that I provided a preaching-free zone for 2-3 weeks around my trip so that my all-consuming weekly task of speaking in front of 400-plus people, plus a television audience, will not eat me alive while I try to haul my family across hundreds of miles. I'll be glad when we actually get in the car--but it's really time to buckle down.

My kind of beach

The beach always ranks as a top destination spot for my family and me, but to what kind of beach shall we go? I have traveled to beaches in Southern California, Nicaragua, Virginia, Massachusetts, Florida and Rhode Island. I will always love the lower development cool, drizzly, and cloudy beaches in Washington. Sunny and warm is my least favorite weather pattern. If you're looking for sun 'n' fun, I would recommend going somewhere else.

My family made fun of Moclips, Washington, growing up. We drove there once for I don't know what reason--our destinations of choice involved places that had more services available, like Ocean Shores and Long Beach. As a kid I lived for the trip to the Ilwaco Bowl bowling alley. I prefer Moclips now. Even though we saw people walking along the beach and even saw a wedding party a few hundred yards to the south of our little spot, it felt like we had the place to ourselves. My dear wife and I escorted our children to their favorite kind of outing in the world. It doesn't matter if we hit the Puget Sound or the Pacific Ocean--they can spend hours at the beach running around, picking, digging and exploring. The boundaries are natural and wide. They run, and we kind of follow them.

However, this trip to Moclips was also about family gathering and celebrating milestones--this time, my parents 40th wedding anniversary. I once had this image that perfect family gatherings were possible, if not at least expected. I observed in my childhood that this was a fleeting desire. An attempt to hit a moving target. Family gatherings are not perfect. We all have our imperfections and brokenness, and we do our best to recognize the blessing of family and enjoy the presence of one another. We prepare meals, we play cribbage (my youngest brother trounced me), watch baseball, share stories, and of course--play at the beach. My parents got to watch the whole imperfect, but blessed conglomeration of relationships that is our family.

The reason I like going to Moclips and the Washington beaches is I get to be in my favorite weather and contemplate the gentle yet powerful process that is erosion at work, and I get to do it in a peaceful way. It's the best witness to God I've had in a long time--the evidence of God's action is all around us, yet so subtle, like the undercurrent as it peels the sand away from the bottom of my feet. I can't do a thing about that sand that moves from under my feet. With that movement of sand, I am reminded that my time of two years of part time ministry, full time parenthood and their gently rhythmic yet powerful day are coming to an end. I return to full-time employment tomorrow. I have written more than I have in years, and I've realized that writing is a foundational activity for my balance. I've learned that writing is not a good activity in and of itself--most message boards have made "the pen is mightier than the sword" concrete. Where my writing will go from here, I do not know. Though the erosion may take away the resources from one place, surely they will be deposited somewhere else.

Back to work--hopefully not back to the Tyranny of the Urgent

It's official: I return to full time work outside the home for the first time in almost exactly 2 years September 1. With lots of family in town, a trip to the beach planned, and a few freely flowing days remaining, I can look back on a time apart from the Tyranny of the Urgent and say it was a time that the lives of our daughters were stabilized. Though children are resilient, we learned to re-prioritized the simple things that gave all of our worlds centeredness: evening meals together, a consistency in teaching life skills, faith practices, and time for simple joys. In some ways, I believe that this time apart will give my family the ability to stay centered in even more challenging vocational times.

My dear wife, after a summer of getting acquainted with her new context and job description will become more involved and influential with her work. I will become acquainted with a new, yet old context in my experience. Daughter #1 will put her new budding academic skills to the test, and we will learn if these two years of reshaping her life and giving her the support she needs will bear fruit in peer relationships. Daughter #2 takes her first extended move into a self-aware and social world in preschool. I will look upon these days of work sabbatical and stay-at-home parenting with great fondness. Parenthood doesn't really end, but it evolves. In my drives to work next week, I will feel the twinge of melancholy intermixed with thankfulness.

What I hope I have learned in the past 10 or so years is that I need not be held captive by the Tyranny of the Urgent (moving back and forth from emergency to emergency), or delusions of personal status at the expense of integrity, call, or my primary relationships.

The freedom of God, atmospheric activity and the ELCA

My thoughts are still in process regarding the ELCA's Churchwide Assembly adopting new ministry standards for lesbian and gay pastors. One topic of reflection I feel called to address because I have read it on numerous occasions: the notion that because of the Assembly vote, God sent tornadoes to Minneapolis. I may write more in the coming weeks about the decision and the fallout, or the connection between storm and judgment may amount to all I have to write.

Interesting how atmospheric activity is conveniently used by people to espouse their understanding of God. This kind of connection isn't confined to folks like Pat Robertson or Jerry Falwell. I'm finding this kind of logic in many kinds of forums, from people in significant Lutheran leadership to local message boards (check out the comments in this article).

What does the logic of climatic activity being connected to God say about God? First, I think it's important to consider all of the tornadic activity in North America since 1900. Even this large sample involves a limited historical scope of atmospheric activity. Examine all of the people that were killed and all the property damaged in these storms. Can every storm be connected to God's judgment? How can anyone know in this limited sample of storms? If God's judgment were indeed reigning upon Minneapolis during the ELCA Churchwide Assembly for the decisions that it made for such an apparently egregious sin, wouldn't God have caused a lot more damage and death?

I do not know the answers to these questions. I believe that God has the freedom to act in any way God chooses--but I think it's dangerous logic to attach any storm to God's judgment based on an emotional response to a divisive issue.

Even though I am a part of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America and I have heavily invested my vocational life to its ministry, I do feel some detachment from this kind of vitriol in the ELCA. The ELCA does not completely woven into my entire cultural life or all of my relationships. The ELCA may split--but I will always share kindred spirits in the Church who believe in "justification by grace through faith" what I believe is the crux of Lutheran theology. I do not find attachment to hierarchy, organization or ethnic culture that goes along with Lutheranism. I support Lutheran organization to a certain extent because it speaks to how we live together and work together, but I cannot work in the national church in this kind of relational climate. If this stance is a flaw on my part, so be it. My identity is in my baptism into Christ, not the church that did the baptizing.

The issue of contention to me does not appear to be about sexuality at all (though I think it has more to do with taboo than sex), but about how we read the Bible. When I first began examining Bible reading approaches I learned some things about biblical inerrancy. I found this discussion to be problematic in the congregations I served, and once the fervor died down, people lost interest. I think the inerrancy question was one of the things that was never solved when the ALC and LCA merged to form the ELCA, and that is coming home to roost at this time. In light of the present vitriol in public discourse and further proclamations of inerrancy and questions surrounding it, I had to dig a little deeper for writing and research on the topic. In my search I found some enlightening articles addressing philosophy, history and polity relating to inerrancy. What I found is that the inerrancy question is a relatively recent construct that does not trump "justification by grace through faith." I tried to bring out this idea in my last sermon, but I think people have reached a point of emotionality that has cut off the ability to work faithfully and well on this topic of human sexuality and church leadership.

I only hope that I have added a little bit of faithfulness and thoughtfulness to the discourse. Lord, have mercy.

An interesting global warming link

If you do not follow my posts regularly, you may have missed my links to Professor of Atmospheric Science at the University of Washington, Cliff Mass. He makes atmospheric science not only accessible, but in a presentation that defies hype and hysteria, while also giving us lay readers something to think about.

His recent posts on global warming have received a bevy of responses, to which he responds with further data. This post shows that the most recent weather events don't reveal a trend, but the general trend is still warmer, and that CO2 output has mattered. He strikes me as a responsible scientist.

Expanded mass transit in Seattle--a long time coming

Pacific Northwesterners are an interesting lot. Many are passionate about the environment and social justice, yet they have this independent, pioneering and entrepreneurial streak that holds enough suspicion about taxes to keep things in check.

Seattle is probably one of the last major cities to implement some sort of rail component to their mass transit system. My Granddad was against it, as were many Seattle area residents. I think some of them were scared off by the Seattle Center Monorail--a space age transport idea back in the 1960's that became a bit of a money pit and had low ridership.

After living in Washington D.C. and Copenhagen, and taking other rail systems as a tourist (London, Oslo, Munich, Stockholm, Edmonton, Chicago) I came to love mass transit. I appreciate minimizing parking and traffic headaches, and giving me an opportunity to read and think before I arrived to work. Is there a little less freedom on the rail? Sure, but for me the pros outweigh the cons. After many crazy drives into downtown Seattle in my lifetime, I was giddy with excitement about getting on the Central Link, dropping off the car and taking my girls and visitors on the rail ride into Seattle. My girls loved the trip and what they saw--they weren't the only ones excited--a slew of children shouted with glee over every little pass: "Wow! The Beacon Hill tunnel!" I didn't think that part was so exciting, but I was happy for them.

We got off the train, walked calmly into a restaurant, and enjoyed a nice lunch with minimal stress to begin our day in Seattle. Is Central Link a perfect set up? No--I think there should be more parking available near stops--I also miss some of the vendors near the stops as in other systems. In the end, I was pleased, and I'm looking forward to my next ride on the rail--Seattle opportunities feel that much closer and reasonable.

Reliving the field trip through tourism

In some places I have lived, some points of the city were only viewed when visitors came from out of town:

Twin Cities, MN: Mall of America
Copenhagen, Denmark: The Little Mermaid

The Milwaukee, Wisconsin, metro had good things to do, but not in the classical tourist sight-seeing fashion. In Wisconsin, cultural tourism is the way to go. Some of the best times my dear wife and I enjoyed during our 2.5 years there involved basic activities that locals enjoy as well: eating brats/sausage, cheese and the abundance of beer; fish fries (amazing cultural activity--I once read Wisconsin is the highest fish consumption state in the country), enjoying the beautiful autumns, walking near the lake shore, attending sporting events in Madison, Milwaukee Brewers baseball, and Lambeau field. All of these places involve good interaction with locals, something that cannot be promised at a particular tourist destination. I'm not anti-tourist (though I can only handle being a tourist in small doses), I like to find places to visit where I can talk to locals about life in that place.

Seattle has more sights similar to Copenhagen and the Twin Cities. With some visitors coming to town recently, we were off to the kid-friendly stops, the Seattle Aquarium, Pike Place Market and the Space Needle. The Seattle Aquarium is an interesting conglomeration of school/summer camp field trippers, tourists, and local families. I attended at least 2 field trips to the Seattle Aquarium as a child, and visited there on other occasions. I know field trips still occur in these days of slashed education budgets and increased standardized testing, but my anecdotal observation says field trips are dying as an educational experience. That makes me feel melancholy about education. Ultimately, my children will know much more than me in their lifetimes, but I believe in the field trip education experiences I had as a child. The girls and I thoroughly enjoyed the aquarium that day--the best part being that they could touch sea cucumbers, sea anemones, sea urchins and starfish. If the place wasn't crawling with street urchins, I could have hung out there poking and gazing at the sea life for hours--ah, to explore without a schedule--but we let the girls spend the most time there. If I could have been any kind of scientist, it would have involved oceanography.

Of the non-touching exhibits, we liked the jellyfish and the seals the most. We see a lot of jellies on the Puget Sound, but at the aquarium, we were able to examine their intricacies in clearer water behind Plexiglas. Watching seals in captivity is a love-hate experience. They interact with the humans like no other sea life I have seen; they were hamming it up and made us all laugh several times. I wonder about mammals in captivity. I'm sure plenty of people are appalled by the whole enterprise, but I also value the appreciation and awareness about God's creatures that comes from a visit that my girls take to the Seattle Aquarium.

The Space Needle is a place for great views of Seattle and the Puget Sound, but it's not the only viewpoint available in the region. If you want to dodge people taking pictures of one another, purchase expensive provisions and kitsch, the Space Needle is for you. It deserves one or maybe two visits in a lifetime--it might have been enjoyable if the girls weren't so hungry and cranky. I think I got whiplash from keeping my head on a swivel all day--keeping track of two busy girls in a big city takes significant effort, which is probably why my parents didn't take my brothers and I to downtown Seattle on a regular basis.

Now that I have just about squarely hit midlife, I'm the one providing direction and guidance more often in more settings--this little tourist trip represented a shift of roles for me as a Pacific Northwesterner. Our visitors provided me with an opportunity to refine my cultural attache routine for whomever makes the trek to the Seattle metro. Come on over!

A fine wedding anniversary celebration

Anniversary celebrations for my dear wife and I took a revitalized path thanks to our new living configuration. Thanks to a little generosity from a congregation, my Mom and Dad, a little saving and creative searching, we had a fabulous celebration.

Dinner at Anthony's on Pier 66 in Seattle was a gift from a congregation (that did some great research) I served in South Dakota. My family has a good history of family gatherings over simple, creative, and scenic seafood meals--and my dear wife and I have made Anthony's part of our own family and relational dating tradition. We enjoy checking out the local scenery of each restaurant. I think we've enjoyed 5 locations and hope to enjoy more in the future.

We enjoyed a pleasant get away from kid clutter and household projects by staying at a nice suite and enjoying a drive across the I-90 bridge--something commuters and locals (including me at one point) easily took for granted. I admire this drive for its beauty, architecture, and the intersection of form and function. Our time of exploration and sharing were enhanced by the backdrop of beauty and utility--a celebration of gifts. For me, this is marriage at its best. Sometimes this beauty is lost in the stresses day to day living. None of this can happen without the day to day living--working together and appreciating one another doing the little things.

Chateau Ste. Michelle offers free tours. Another beautiful example of form and function convergence in a way that wanted us coming back for more. We walked hand-in-hand on the grounds, learned a little bit more about wine, and enjoyed our time together even more as we watched a couple tour with their two children (although they were AMAZINGLY behaved), appreciating our own children but thankful we had some time to ourselves. Soon after we began earning real incomes as pastors, we drove to the Wollersheim Winery in Wisconsin, enjoyed the tour and bought wine for gifts and personal enjoyment. I think we learned wine wasn't going to be a serious hobby, but when thinking of our trip to Chateau Ste. Michelle, we easily remembered what an enjoyable experience of taste, beauty and appreciation for the work and creativity of a craft can be.

There was much more that could have been enjoyed that day, but we were called back to the service of our household when we learned our geriatric canine was suffering and needed our attention. Thankfully the dog's struggles didn't happen in the early stages of our time away, but we gently moved in to care for the dog--it was the right thing to do. Caring for the dog served as a reminder of the love that brought us together and the work together that bonds with that love to uphold a household, while providing each of us the opportunity to serve in our Christian vocation while serving one another, while also being served by others. This is also a relational event for my dear wife and I that would have been much more difficult in South Dakota--a challenge for our child care situation, different work schedule challenges, and not as many dining choices. All in all, we witnessed A blessed interdependence.

Sparse posting in August

August is shaping up to be a fun month, and without a fabulous smartphone in my possession, vacation will keep me from posting at my new normal pace.

On the docket for August:

+ An anniversary celebration with my dear wife--although that anniversary is in September, with employment on the horizon, we thought this was a better time to do it while I'm not working. Congregational service has killed our getaways before, most namely, tickets to see RENT in Milwaukee. We are going to enjoy a seafood meal, with a nice suite and a trip to Washington wine country.

+ A trip to Crater Lake National Park in Oregon. I've wanted to go here for years, but our trips back to the Pacific Northwest have never afforded us the time to go outside of visiting family and friends. Now that we live here, it's time to check it out. We rented a vacation home in Sunriver, Oregon. I'm thrilled with the possibilities.

+ A family gathering to celebrate my parents' 40th anniversary and their birthdays on the Pacific Ocean for a few days. We haven't had a family gathering like this outside of a birth for years. We're looking forward to watching the kids frolic in the ocean and go back to some days of taking our beach vacation on the cool, windy and overcast beach. My kind of beach--though it could be sunny and warm, the odds are low that it will be blazing hot. Pacific Northwest beach fun is my kind of beach fun. It's usually around 15-20 degrees cooler on the coast in the summer than the Seattle metro.

I will bring some photos and reflections back with me, and report it the old-fashioned way--not in real time. I hope you have some peaceful days in August as well.

Heat wave consequence

Last night's low in the Puget Sound region dropped to the low 50's. Fans ceased whirring in the house, and most windows stayed closed. Daytime temps stayed out of the 80's or above for the first time in two weeks. I had felt fatigued for about two weeks before I encountered blissful slumber last night. Room temperature during sleep makes a huge difference. I laid in bed comfortably and didn't awaken from sweat pouring down my neck. I slept 8 comfortable hours for the first time in about a month. Sleep continues to be the factor that most affects my health--I need to remember this wisdom every day. And when this occurs next year, I will have saved up enough money to have one room in our dwelling air-conditioned.

The heat wave has finally abated

Back in college, a good friend used to chide me for paying attention to weather forecasts: "Why do you worry about something you can't control?"

I may not be able to control the weather, but I can adjust. Since returning to the Northwest, I have enjoyed reading University of Washington Atmospheric Science Professor Cliff Mass' blog. I thought about his post regarding humidity and realized I did not recognize the humidity with the heat. Indeed, we had a high dew point for the region, but I remember those days in South Dakota and Kansas where I walked outside and sweat with minimal exertion. I loathe that feeling. I love to sweat when working out and dressed to do so, but merely sweating is not my favorite bodily function. It is one reason I would think long and hard before ever taking an opportunity to live in the South. I would be constantly cranky. Even in my more svelte days, I couldn't take the humidity.

I guess I lived long enough in the Midwest that I didn't notice the humidity during the last heat wave. I am shocked.

Our 2 days in triple digit heat

1. We took Mommy/my dear wife to the airport. Though I don't like to drive around for its own sake, the air conditioning in our vehicle is an alluring intoxicant.

2. On the way home we stopped at the mall to get some physical play for the girls on a mall playground. I also don't like going to the mall for its own sake; shopping as an avocation puzzles me on many levels, a new level created after watching TLC's Clean Sweep a few times.

3. We laid low for the afternoon, trying to move as little as possible. I set up a fan triangle of sort on the downstairs level of our townhouse as a marginal oasis. We don't have a thermostat in the house but I'm guessing the temperature inside was somewhere in the 90's. I didn't want to leave because I'm concerned about our geriatric chocolate lab of fragile health. He's never been in this kind of heat. I didn't want to leave for more that 2 hours or so.

4. I hit a wall in heat toleration around 6pm. Though I don't like to take the girls to our pool alone, I thought we needed to get in the pool to cool off. Getting a 6 and 2 year old ready for the pool is a project. My dear wife usually handles hair and general corralling. We finally walked up to the pool at 7pm, only to discover our pool was closed. This was absolute cruelty. I thought we still had some time to travel to a spray park about 30 minutes away before it shut down for the evening. The girls love this place, and we arrived just minutes after it shut down. The girls were crestfallen, and I was getting a bit crazy. All was made better with the promise of ice cream. Walking through the frozen food section at WinCo Foods provided nirvana.

5. We all took cool showers and baths and called it a night over the 1990 full length movie The Jetsons.

All over the world, people deal with high temperatures. For many people in this world, cultural patterns make adjustments for the heat reality. I remember an article about how air conditioning has developed into a middle-class boundary in India. If I was in the air conditioning business, forget the United States, I'd set up shop in India.

Extremes in unexpected places produce stories, as I have witness many local conversations about the "Blizzard Of (insert year)" or the "Drought of (insert year)." An old episode of the Vicar of Dibley satirizes this conversation well. In Cascadia, stories will be prefaced by the Summer of '09. Though Cascadia residents are given to hyperbole in weather extremes, there's some science behind this outlier. I recently found the blog of University of Washington Professor of Atmospheric Science Cliff Mass. This triple digit weather is not merely a point of interest for us weather drama queens, but scientists as well. This map Mass posted of temps southern Thurston County and Lewis County yesterday show some truly crazy temperatures. He even wondered if 114 could have been a realistic reading.

Today we're going to my grandmother's and her air conditioning, but I'm still not going to leave the dog alone at home too long.

Stay cool, Cascadia, the slow descent into relief starts late tonight.

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The Puget Sound region today hit an all-time temperature record today (at least since 1891).

Hot, hot, hot

I grew up without air conditioning, then I live with it for 8 years, and without it I turn into a bigger wimp than I ever imagined. Indeed, Cascadia residents don't know how to live with weather extremes. They can't stop talking about it. It only takes the mere hint of a snow storm or 90 degrees and the lead story on Seattle news is firmly established in weather pandemonium. The snow storm of late 2008 and record amount of consecutive 90 degree days and threat of all-time temperature high in Seattle (102) has caused its authors to get literary in their heat observations.

Truly, without air conditioning and sitting in uncharacteristic heat, it's difficult not to sit around and think about how hot it is. I played a little Wii this morning, did a very short workout, did some writing, --anything to forget about how hot it is. We may have to camp out at my grandmother's home tomorrow. The girls don't seem to notice--they just get lethargic and drink more lemonade. Off to the pool and to the movie later today.

Stay cool, Cascadia, it will soon be over (maybe).