I did a real ropes course for the first time. I've experienced zip lines and other ropes course elements in the past, but the course at Snow King resort in Jackson, Wyoming, was the biggest high ropes challenge I've ever done. A relative works there, so we got in for free. I highly recommend it, even if you have to pay. It had five levels of courses that progressively became harder and higher, followed by a zip-line course at the end. At the end we split up because some of us wanted to continue on to the hardest challenge, while some of us wanted to skip over to the longer zip lines. We all had a great time! I'm out of shape for all the climbing, so I was tired afterward with sore muscles to follow, but it was worth the exertion! My parents also came. My dad and sister did the course with us while my mom and brother watched the toddler (Thank you!!!).
We took a ski lift to get up to and down from the ropes course. I was nervous to take our daughter up. I thought she might get scared, or she would be too squirmy. I am not exactly afraid of heights, but I do have a fear of falling to my death. I'm mostly comfortable when wearing safety gear while rock climbing, zip-lining, etc. However, if I don't stay focused, it's easy for me to play out a tragic scenario in my head when I'm up high, and then I feel anxious. I expected that it would be amplified when riding with a small child on a ski lift. Aaron was confident that the girl would enjoy it and that everything would be fine. She did, and it was.
Later, we took a different lift to the summit of the mountain. Those lift chairs only had capacity for two people at a time, and apparently a two-year old counts as a whole person. The prospect of having just one adult to wrangle her made me more nervous, but she was excited to ride, so we sent her up with Aaron (he's the favorite). The girl did really well, except that she got wiggly a couple of times, so Aaron had to hold her tightly. I was pleased and relieved that she enjoyed the ride and mostly behaved. The view was beautiful, and it was cool to see the town of Jackson from above. Although, personally, I think the view of the Tetons is nicer from the Idaho side.
Aaron's brother helps run a youth camp, so we spend a day there. We played archery tag, crate stacking, giant swing, and slip and slide. We also swam at a hot springs.
There are plenty of adventures near home, but it is always nice to go away for a few days.
Our vegetable garden last year was a little sad. We even killed a zucchini plant. Who does that on accident?
This year is different! We have a lovely array of pepper and tomato plants (some with blossoms), potatoes, lettuce, beans, peas, and carrots. Our zucchini plant is thriving, with three tiny fruits already forming. We transplanted raspberries from Aaron's mom, and I think they'll live this time (we've tried before). The only thing that hasn't germinated as expected is the beets.
What has made the difference? We are not completely sure. The weather - a cooler, wetter spring - might have played a role this year. But there are two key improvements we've made.
1.We think we over-watered last year in the beginning, and we didn't have an easy way to control water distribution to account for different plants' needs. Aaron has installed a drip system to help with that this year.
2. I did a little research about rotation. Last year we loosely and haphazardly attempted to vary our planting pattern from the previous year, but we didn't give too much thought to the overall scheme. This year we planted in sections according to basic plant characteristics: legumes, roots, fruits, leaves. Next year we'll shift everything one section to the right to keep soil nutrients balanced.
It's safe to say that things are looking up this year.
My deodorant is almost gone, and it seems that the stores I usually patronize might not have my one and only exclusive favorite in stock. I have been to three different stores, but I can't find mine.
I underestimated the strength of my preference until this week, when an actual possibility of change was brought to the forefront. I routinely buy the same deodorant, but I have previously considered it a gentle preference or a habit. I did not realize how much it has become a part of me. Upon acknowledging the absence of my usual variety, it occurred to me that a person with common sense would simply purchase another scent.
Not I. I went to another store instead. And another. I became anxious when I thought of the real possibility that Ban might have discontinued Sweet Simplicity. That's when I recognized that I was willing to go to great lengths to get my deodorant. I started to wonder why, and I began to ponder the genesis of my deep deodorant connection.
It turns out that I have been using the same deodorant for twelve+ years.
I grew up in a household where we usually just used whatever deodorant my mom bought, and she mainly stocked up on the cheap stuff. We never had "name brand" deodorant.
One day my high school cross country coach received a giant box full of sample-sized Ban Sweet Simplicity deodorant, and she handed it out like candy. A dozen sweaty runners readily accepted the offering. It smelled so good and worked so well that after I had exhausted my supply, I purchased more, and I have never gone back.
Ban's marketing worked. During my teenage years, a prime time of self-discovery and developing attitudes and preferences, they hooked me for life. Good on you, Ban.
Don't worry! After a quick online search, I found that my deodorant is still available. But I might buy a six pack just in case.
I took my daughter to a park. The main area, where most people with kids hang out, contains a large pavilion and a substantial playground. Beyond that, there is a paradoxical combination of groomed baseball fields next to decrepit tennis courts. My daughter insisted on finding a puddle. Despite the recent rain, there was not a puddle in sight near the populated playground. So I suggested that we walk around and look for one. She was determined, and she set out at a toddler's pace to meander along the sidewalk, stopping to pick up sticks and rocks along the way. We hardly noticed the dwindling numbers of humans until we eventually found ourselves in an isolated convergence of baseball diamonds. There were no other people around within shouting distance - and still no puddles.
I noticed a young man walking toward us nonchalantly. For some reason, I thought it was a little odd to see another person way over here. He was looking at his phone, kept to himself, and went past. Not long thereafter, he came back, but this time he turned toward us. He didn't look too suspicious, but I was wary because he was certainly going out of his way to cross paths in our isolated location. He came near and noticed my daughter. "Aw, she's cute!" He had dark hair and a dark complexion, broken teeth, dark hair, well-kept facial hair, casual - but not disheveled - dress. He spoke with a middle-eastern accent, and he seemed to be about my age. Overall he seemed friendly, not creepy. He walked past us a few yards.
Then he doubled back.
Unsure of his motive, I picked up my daughter as he came closer. I made eye contact, but I kept my distance.
As you read the following conversation, please remember that I was not dressed to impress. I was wearing dirty yardwork jeans, a plain unisex t-shirt, running shoes, and no makeup. I hadn't even showered yet. My only redeeming quality, appearance-wise, is that my hair was still slightly curled from the day before. My biggest omission, as you will see, was the wedding ring.
Him (with accent): She's really cute.
Me (keeping distance, slowly backing away): Thanks.
Him: So are you.
Me (honestly not understanding him): What?
Him: You're really cute too. Do you think I could get your number?
Me (caught off-guard, wondering if he is borracho): Well, I'm married...with a kid...so, no.
Him: Oh. You don't look like someone who is married (whatever that means). So do you think I have a chance with you at all?
Me (not flattered): No
Him (seems sincerely disappointed): Maybe you could give me your number to have in the future, just in case there's a chance it could work out.
Me (creeped out): Nope, I'm happily married. Have a nice day.
We left, and he didn't follow.
Even in my single days, this kind of uninvited attention from strangers has only ever come to me from drunk men in foreign countries. Singling out a person and using pick up lines might seem romantic or flattering to some people, but I find it somewhat revolting. I don't even know how to flirt, particularly with someone I have never met.
But, even in hindsight, I really don't think he was drunk.
So I guess I should remember to wear my wedding ring from now on.
