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Family & Living

Pad Thai Day

We’ve been doing the Couch to 5K program about 3 days a week.  1 of those days always lands on a Friday.  At our house Friday is known as Pad Thai Day.  I can’t even imagine a better post-run dinner than Pad Thai.  It’s one of my favorites and I almost always order it when it’s on the menu.  I promised the recipe last blog post and I’m usually not to good on keeping promises over the internet but this time you can say, I delivered!

I had never thought of making my own Pad Thai before.  There is a take out place here that makes it decent enough so I just bought it from them once in awhile.  Occasionally the chicken was overcooked, but it was cheap, abundant and saved me from cooking dinner for at least 2 nights in a row.  It was a win-win.  Of course until we ordered food one evening and Tj found a chopped up cigarette in his food.  Oh, how I WISH I was joking.  We have never been back since.  How does that even happen!?  Did it fall from his mouth?  Behind his ear?  Was he chopping vegetable while smoking AND blindfolded???  Do I even want to know?!

Anyway, I searched around for a recipe and eventually came across one that I thought matched perfectly.  Most of the recipes are similar, but something about this one just stood out.  Full Disclosure: This isn’t my recipe but I’m rewriting it since there are some mistakes in the text and I modified it just ever so slightly.  Also, on the original when you click for the photo version it’s different.  So here is the recipe that I cook every Friday night.

Pad Thai
Recipe Type: Entree
Serves: 4
Ingredients
  • 8 oz. Thai Rice Noodles (linguini style)
  • 3/4 tbsp. tamarind paste
  • 1/4 cup warm water
  • 2 tbsp fish sauce
  • 1 tsp chili sauce
  • 3 tbsp brown sugar
  • 1 1/2 cups chicken thigh, sliced
  • 3 tbsp soy sauce or Bragg’s liquid amino’s
  • 1 tsp corn starch
  • 2 tsp coconut oil
  • 4 cloves garlic, minced
  • 2 fresh Thai chilis, minced (optional – these tiny chilis can pack some heat!)
  • 2 tbsp. chicken stock
  • 3 cups bean sprouts
  • 1/8 tsp ground white pepper
  • 3 green onions, sliced
  • 1/3 cup fresh cilantro, chopped
  • 1/3 cup peanuts, chopped
  • fresh lime wedges
Instructions
  1. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Remove from heat and place in the rice noodles. Allow noodles to soak while you prepare the other ingredients. (The idea is soften the noodles enough to eat without making the mushy. I find this step happens quite fast so check regularly) Drain. Rinse with cold water. Set Aside.
  2. In a cup dissolve the tamarind paste in the warm water. Add the fish sauce, chili sauce and brown sugar. This is the Pad Thai sauce. Set aside.
  3. Stir together the soy sauce and 1 tsp of corn starch to make the marinade. Pour over the sliced chicken. Stir well. Set aside.
  4. Heat the oil in your wok or large frying pan over medium-high. Add the coconut oil. Stir fry the garlic and chilis for about 30-45 seconds.
  5. Add the chicken to the wok and stir fry until brown on all sides. Pour in the chicken stock and continue to the cook the chicken until cooked through. 5-8 minutes.
  6. Add the noodles to the pan, pour the pad thai sauce over the noodles and mix with the chicken. Gently lift and turn to mix the noodles with the chicken. Stir Fry for 1-2 minutes.
  7. Add the bean sprouts and the white pepper and continue to lift and turn to mix in with the noodles.
  8. Removed from heat. Add the green onion, cilantro, and peanuts and toss together until well mixed.
  9. Serve with lime wedge and chili sauce. Also, add more fish sauce to taste if desired.
Notes

Instead of chicken try shrimp or tofu!

 Before I go, I should share that on Saturday we attended a film festival at the local theater.  There were 29, 1 minute videos entered and  I should probably also mention that one of the videos happened to be made by Skylar and his friend Charlie.

This is his second movie screening, at a real theater, of one of his own videos and all I can say is what an amazing experience for him as a young film maker. All of the videos appear here at The Vashon Line.  Skylar’s film, entitled “God” is the last one on page 2.  I can’t even tell you what a thrill it is to see your kid’s face on the big screen!

 

An Epic Fashion Journey (that’s not over yet)

I left the house at around 1pm yesterday and didn’t return until about 9pm.  I was gone for 8 hours.  Shopping.  Shopping is hard work.  My pits were super stinky by the end of the day!  Next time I’ll need to bring wipes and deodorant.  I never knew the power workout that is called… shopping.  Without realizing that the shopping mall is indeed a very fancy place, this is what I wore:

Most of the women in the mall, (or at least the ones I couldn’t help but notice) were wearing fancy shirts, skin tight jeans, high heels, and tons of makeup.  By the end of the day I think they might look even better then when they started!  I mean, if you’re into that sort of thing.  I have to hand it to them, I barely made it down to the ferry terminal in my boots once I realized how sore my muscles were.  We brought new meaning to the words “shop till you drop”.

I used to HATE shopping.  I would last maybe 20 minutes to an hour TOPS.  Then all the energy would drain out of my body and I would start yawning and become basically unresponsive.  It was a similar feeling to sitting in a high school desk for an extended length of time.  Total lack of energy and the only sound I could utter is, “Ugggghhhhhh”.

I’m not sure if I was ever fashionable in my life, by any standard really.  I remember always being uncomfortable in just about anything I ever wore.  I can specifically remember my first independent fashion choice (by independent, I mean not based on anyone’s opinion or style).  It was 9th grade.  I had taken a trip to a mall out of town and purchased a really cute floral, stretchy skirt.  I got it home and realized that the purple in my skirt was the very same purple my newly purchases and daring high top chuck’s were made of!  Oh.  Oh yes.  It was on!  The next morning when I got up for school , I got dressed before breakfast because I was so excited about my outfit.  Skirt, socks, purple hi top chucks.  Squeeee!


It felt gooooood to be me.  It felt gooooood to stand out.  I felt sassy and awesome.  It was an outfit I was going to love, forever.  I felt powerful for the entire morning!  I went to French class where I admired my legs sticking out from under my desk.  I loved French class, but I hated French.  I loved going to class because my Junior boyfriend’s locker was on that floor and right across from my class.  I saw him through the window and as soon as the bell rang I went to him; as I did every Tuesday and Thursday of every week.  His friends were on either side of him; a very after school special-ish scene.  We talked, though I can’t remember what we said and then his friends went off to class.  He stayed for a moment, looked me in eyes and said, “Oh and by the way, don’t EVER wear anything like that again.”  Then he walked away.

*CRUSHED*

Crushed isn’t even the word for it.  My bubble popped.  My world crashed.  My heart broke.  Everything changed right at that moment.  Everything.  I loved him and it was the beginning of a very long downward spiral for me personally and for my fashion sense.  Obviously there were other issues in my life as to why I felt the way I did, but this was a turning point for me, and not a positive one.  I never really got it back.  I mean I tried a lot of different styles on and I wore a lot of different clothes, but I never really got that feeling back.  Then exacerbate the problem with 3 pregnancies plus an ever changing body and that spark I felt when I put something on that I liked, loved, ADORED…  was completely extinguished.

Until very recently, that is.  It’s funny how people are often thinking the same things at the same time, because right around the time I started to really care about my clothes, my friend Tiffani wrote this super inspiring post.  She’s doing a 52 week series on getting acquainted with yourself that I highly, HIGHLY recommend.  I don’t always do the challenges, but this one I sort of did by accident.  I’ve been making it a point to love myself more.  (The past me has major, GINORMOUS issues with self-love.)  Part of showing myself some love is paying attention to how I feel in my clothes and getting myself some threads that I really just want to be in.  It’s a slow process, I don’t know how I could replace my wardrobe all at once, though it really does need such an overhaul!  I need more time!  However, after our EPIC shopping trip this weekend, I feel pretty awesome to have come home with a few more pieces that I love.

It’s funny how not too long ago stepping out in those socks would have been too much for me, but now I just love wearing them everywhere.  I love bringing color back into my life.  I spent a lot of years dressing in mostly black and being enveloped in color is really making me happy.

It doesn’t make any sense to judge clothing based on your negative view of yourself.  If you love it, if it speaks to you, then make it work and allow yourself to feel fabulous in it.

A Very Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays All Around!

How To Set Your Past on Fire

I finally did something I’ve been planning on doing for quite some time.  I’ve been a journal writer since I was a little kid.  I can remember my first diary having some sort of spring lock.  It was pink and I was in elementary school.  That’s all I can recall.  I’ve owned a bazillion more journals since then.  I’m sure they all just went to the trash bucket eventually, though I can’t remember doing anything specific with any of them, until I was an adult anyway.  I have been holding onto journals since about 1996.  In those journals are many pieces of my life.  Usually the entries take negative tones.  I tend to journal only the negative or if I’m feeling generally shitty.  I wrote every single day for years after graduating high school. In the last few years, my journaling has tapered off to almost non-existent.  It’s a testament as to how I feel about my life right now.  Fucking spectacular.  No need to journal any of it.  It rocks!

One day, someone told me that each time they finished a journal they burned it and that desire very quickly became my own.  I mean, I would NEVER, EVER want anyone EVER to read my private journals.  EVER.  I’m no Anne Frank.  I’m not documenting much of anything except the craziness I have felt in my brain over the years.  No one will be publishing my diaries after I die.  They’ll probably be wondering why that woman wasn’t committed long ago.  Journaling for me, is where I found clarity in my darkest hours.  Even if a few of those hours were pining over no-good-piece-of-shit men and fights I had with my mother.  It all seems so trivial now.

As fall descended upon me this year I felt another inner shift.  I constantly thought of those 15 years worth of journals and all the things I had written and how much I wanted the satisfaction of watching them burn.  It could be so deeply satisfying… knowing that no one would ever be in a position to read my deepest thoughts and knowing that I’ve moved on.

I was right.  It was. Deeply. Satisfying.

Snohomish Pumpkin Hurl 2011

In 1986, 100 teams got together in Delaware and formed the very first annual Pumpkin Chunkin event in the US.  The idea snowballed across rural America and teams of people started building machines to chuck pumpkins as far as a pumpkin could possibly go.  The event even landed it’s own show on Discovery.

My favorite! Not all were medieval in style like this one, but they did all appear to be various forms of a trebuchet.

Coolest. Shit. Ever.

So when a friend emailed our local homeschool group about the Snohomish Pumpkin Hurl and Medieval Faire that was happening up in Everett, WA I knew we had to get to it.  Despite my worrying about being too late to see anything good, we made it just in time to see the last round of pumpkins sailing through the air at unimaginable heights and distances.  I can’t even explain the EXPLOSION of pumpkin as the flying gourd hit the ground!

How perfect an idea to couple this event with a small, one day medieval faire!  I mean if you like that sort of thing.  It’s probably a bad idea to expose the kids to things like:

Knights

Archery

Foam weapons. They REALLY hate those foam weapons.

Because the next thing you know they will be dragging you all over the place trying to make you shoot arrows at people dressed in armor.  And no one likes having fun when there is violence involved, especially not TJ.

Two head shots. One arrow. For realz.

There was about 200 people there when we arrived and this little festival was so worth the trip.  I hope to see it grow over the years, but I did love that it was tiny.  Being just outside a city over 100,000 people the size of the event was big welcome surprise.  This new experience definitely deserves a repeat.  Can’t wait until next year!

Long Haired Freaky People

We went RV’ing this weekend to the Sequim(Skwim)/Port Angeles KOA.  We aren’t ready to tow the truck behind the RV yet, but we really wanted a few days away.  We know that KOA’s are a little pricey but as a last minute planner I knew it was a reliable place for pretty cool kid/family activities and we could also chill around a campfire.

Root beer float night, BINGO and a monster bike ride later I knew I had made the right decision.  After a fun few days everyone seemed content to hang around the RV in front of the campfire for the last day.  We totally scored some huge pieces of wood from a checkout earlier in the day and it helped our cause of keeping the flames going all day.  A small bundle of wood was $6.00!  We forgot to bring our own and that really adds up!

Monday afternoon we took Milo and Phoenix to the playground.  The turf was that really dusty gray sand that of course every child wants to bury themselves in.  Lucky me, because all I wore were flip flops and I don’t like hate that kind of sand.  Beach sand is barely acceptable but this dusty, nasty shit drives me crazy.  When it rubs between my toes, I end up with goosebumps the whole time I’m walking.  It’s that fingernail on the chalk board effect, except I get chills just thinking about a chalkboard.

At the playground there were a bunch of other children in the usual 6-10 range.  There was also a lot of the usual unsupervised playground behavior.  There was some pushing, some teasing, a little name calling and of course crying.  Times like this I’m reminded how awesome my kids are.  Especially, after witnessing one child kick another in the face with sneakers, I was feeling quite blessed to be the family we are.

Just when I was basking in the glory of my spawn of perfection, (and don’t worry they won’t be anything less with the rest of this story)  I started to notice that Milo was having to defend his hair a little.  Of course he gets called a girl an awful lot.  He has long red locks and the cutest little freckly face.  This time was different, these kids didn’t believe him.  They told him, “You’re lying.  You’re a girl.  You look like a girl and you act like a girl and you sound like a girl.” Milo took it all in stride giggling it away.  He did confide later that this bothers him “a lot, but not that much”.

There was one child who Milo kept trying to talk to and his other friend kept instructing him not to talk to Milo.  I have no idea why.  It was the weirdest thing.  This kid would block Milo from whatever he was trying to do and purposely get in his way.  He also audibly told his friend to “don’t listen and just go away”.  Um…  excuse me?  I was so confused by this.  Have these kids REALLY never seen a boy with long hair?  I mean yeah, it’s longer than most boys with long hair but STILL.  Are we so far out of the way of civilization that long haired men have escaped their radar?  Basically, the kid was mean from what I’m pretty sure was based on looks.  He just didn’t like the way Milo looked.  Huh.  Discrimination based on hair length.  I thought we saw the end of that in the freakin’ seventies.  Guess I was wrong.

We’re home now, and I just gave Phoenix a hair cut to even it out.  He has this wild mixture of straight baby hair and thick wavy hair.  I offered the other boys trims.  Milo said, “No way”.  I’m so glad to know that he doesn’t feel the need to change to fit in or be accepted.  I love that kid.

On Being Awesome

We got off of the Vashon ferry and rode our bikes as far up the steep hill as possible.  It is straight up to the commuter parking lot.  There are stairs for the walkers; about six flights.  Tj made it up the hill.  I made it halfway and turned to see where Skylar was.  He was on the stairs, 2 flights up, with his heavy mountain bike on his shoulder.

“Dude!  What are you doing???”

He laughed, “Being awesome.”

***end scene***

We were in our old Suburban at a stop sign.  Tj turned the corner and decided to peel-out.

~Squeeeeeeel!~

“Dude!  What are you doing???”

His reply?  “Being awesome. “  I could do nothing but laugh.

***end scene***

See???  Just like that, they made life more awesome.

Somewhere over the sleepless years of having small children, I became less awesome.  WAY Less fun and WAY less playful.  Oh, the irony!  When they are young and want to play the most is when I’m feeling the least playful.  I’ve ALWAYS been envious of fun, spontaneous and playful people.  I’ve always wanted to be more fun and to do more fun things.  I have a deep yearning to play.  I want to be AWESOME!

The other day I saw this article pass by in my Twitter feed, http://johnnybtruant.com/the-universe-doesnt-give-a-flying-fuck-about-you.  I haven’t read anything from Johnny B. Truant in awhile but I always know that when I do choose to open an article, I’m probably going to enjoy it.  Sure enough, it was awesome.  I like him.  He writes well.  He swears a lot.  And although a little verbose, he speaks my language.  If I were single and placed a personal ad it might look something like this:

SWF. seeking blunt  conversation, crude language, and a swift kick in the ass, anytime.  Not interested in mental masturbation, and leave the coddling for your grandmother.

As you can see, I’m a real catch. *wink*

Even at my age (21, obviously!), I find that I’m overcoming inhibitions quite regularly.  My latest one, is my lack of spontaneity.  The one that keeps me from doing “epic shit” and the one that keeps me from being awesome.  The one that has kept me from being myself in every situation.

What does awesome look like?

For me, it’s being inspired by someone else awesome and staging low quality cell phone photos in my kitchen with TJ while the kids look on in wonder and ask, “What are you doing???”  And I reply:

“Being awesome.”

I call this one: "TJ! Get me sssssome eggssss!"

I would so love to have some decent lenses so I can stage more fun photos!  Sadly, you don’t get to see the staged bicycle crash photo with me up in the tree since the flash didn’t work.  (for those curious…  no, I wasn’t really drinking a bottle of Triple Sec and beating up baking powder on the floor.  And yes, if I was that would be pretty awesome too.)

I think when you’re being awesome, you just know it.  You know you’re awesome because you’re kids are saying, “My mom is awesome!”  or they are uncontrollably giggling at you while you climb the tree in the dark in your pajamas.  Yeah, it was the best night ever, and we didn’t even leave the house.

It was also the beginning of AwesomeQuest 2011!  Where I invite all my awesome friends to become even more awesome with me.  Where we remember to be playful and create fun wherever we are.  Not JUST because I want to be more awesome than I already am, but because I want to have more fun in my life with my already awesome family.  BTW, AwesomeQuest 2011 needs a cool graphic and I’m accepting submissions!

But Heather, how do I know if I’m being awesome or not?

Well for starters you’ll probably notice that you’re enjoying life a lot more.  Side can effects include: side cramps from giggling, laugh lines on your face and chapped lips from smiling too much.  Don’t worry, this time the side effects are totally worth it!

Awesome, like unschooling, looks different in every family.  Don’t compare your awesome to another person’s awesome.  And don’t expect to be awesome all at once.  Just remember:

Photo Credit: Jeff Sabo

Now, go be fucking awesome.

:)

3 Simple Ways To Start Living For You

I need you to think of someone’s authority in your life as a pair of sunglasses.  As an adult, you can choose to put them on and submit to this authority or you can choose to take them off and live by your own.   Occasionally, you might think you’ve taken off the sunglasses but in fact you’ve only put them on your head, and they sit there weighing in on every decision you make.

Children do not have this choice.  When a child is home he wears his parent’s sunglasses.  When he is in school, he wears his teacher’s sunglasses.  Sports?  Coaches sunglasses.   And the list goes on.  A child being raised with a mainstream parenting philosophy, is expected to submit to the adults in his life and never really gets to view the world from his own perspective.  His life is always being shaded by someone else’s sunglasses.  It’s the way most of us were raised, so not really all that uncommon, but definitely something that needs rethinking.

I want my kids to have an unobstructed view of the world.  If I make the rules, tell them the good from the bad, and take full control over their life’s direction, that is a very big pair of sunglasses.  I have shaded and distorted their vision so they can no longer make decisions that honor their true being.  They will always be wondering, “What will my mom think?”, when what’s most important is what THEY think.

When I wore all those different sunglasses of all the authority figures in my life, I hated what I saw.  I was living my life against the things I hated, rather than living life for what I loved.  Nothing looked good to me and I often made decisions only to do the opposite of what I was seeing.  What I didn’t realize, was that I hated what I saw because I was seeing things through someone else’s eyes.

I was living my life against the things I hated, rather than living life for what I loved.

And I know a lot of people who do the very same thing.  I had no idea I was doing this until I moved.  When I moved, I moved away from everything I disliked, there was nothing left for me to gripe about and I actually found myself having trouble making decisions.  I didn’t dislike anything anymore, I feel like the cardboard box that went missing must have had all my sunglasses in it.  Unexpectedly, once we were settled in to our new home I had NO IDEA how to move forward.

I don’t want this for my children.  To turn 32 and realize that they don’t really know joy at all, and as much as I thought I did.  I didn’t.  The only way I can appreciate and support their personal analysis of the world is to have my own.  I need to live free, if I’m going to support my children’s freedom.

1. Baby, lose those shades!

Take them off, and fling them into the ocean!  Just as real sunglasses may trick your brain into not producing chemicals that block the sun, those figurative sunglasses aren’t doing your brain any good either.  For me, this means blocking negative thoughts.  Turning “I can’t.” into “Duh… of course I can!” and “What if” into “Let’s do it”.  I often ask myself “Why not?!” and remind myself “Who cares what everyone else thinks!  It’s my life!”  You can fight against the voices in your head.  I’ve always dreamt of living my life out loud…  and so I am, and I’m doing it with clear, unobstructed vision.

2. Find your passions.

Finding what you love isn’t going to come to  you on a silver platter.  You’ve got to give something a go.  I am so not a fan of Nike products, but didn’t they just have the best slogan in the world?  “Just do It!”.

Baking cupcakes look fun to you?  Just do it!  Who cares if you don’t think they will be pretty or yummy.  That standard you’re holding cupcakes to isn’t real.  It’s only in your head.  Always wanted to paint, but you’re afraid you won’t be good?  It’s not true!  Just do it!  Is there really any sort of definition of what art should look like?  Grab a canvas and throw some paint on it, right now.

3. Get out of your way.

Yes, you read that correctly.  I said, Get out of your way! So often we’re just standing in our own way.  You are the only one stopping you from what you want.  You’ve got to figure out how to get out of your way before you can move forward.  Sometimes that means really digging in to your past and why you are doing this to yourself, and sometimes that means you run forward, full force, knocking yourself over and flipping your former self the bird on the way by.  Personally, I prefer the latter!

It’s catchy.

Living passionately is catchy, the GOOD kind of catchy.  I love that I am able to live my life with such passion and joy and I’m seeing it trickle down to my children.  I don’t force them to wear my sunglasses when I think they need them, they are living their own bright truths.  However, they know they can borrow my sunglasses at ANY time, and keep them for as long as they want and need.

Mal de Debarquement Syndrome

Imagine you are on a boat, and the waves are gently rocking you back and forth.

Imagine you are walking on a trampoline.

That’s pretty much how I felt for 4 weeks of my life, on dry land.  Last month I flew home to visit family and say good-bye to my grandfather who has since passed on.  I can remember the EXACT moment I lost my sense of balance, although I didn’t know what was happening at the time.  I was on the plane, I closed my eyes and I felt like I was spinning, like the plane was turning slowly to the left and then slowly to the right.  I didn’t think to much of it at the time.  It was sort of amusing, I’m not prone to motion sickness.

I can also remember sitting in a restaurant, with my brother and father and I said, why do I feel like I’m still moving?  As I moved back and forth, they joked, “because you’re moving”.

I felt a little “off” all weekend, attributing it to fatigue and stress.  After a few days, I flew home.  As soon as I was home and still, I REALLY felt it.  The room was constantly rocking back and forth and walking felt like walking on a trampoline.  It was bizarre.  I hoped it would subside in a few days, but it didn’t.  I was having difficulty concentrating, I was extremely fatigued and my back and neck hurt something fierce.  I also experienced some strange hypersenstivity to high pitched sounds and felt a heaviness in my head.  The first few nights I dreamed of being stuck in high waves and being on boats.  That’s how strong the rocking was!  This lasted for just about 4 weeks until the symptoms finally subsided the other day, although the rocking is still there to a very tiny degree.

What I was experiencing was something called Mal de Debarquement Syndrome.  This syndrome seems to be caused most commonly by cruises and airplane rides but there are reports of car rides, elevator rides, and spontaneous onset.  It is very rare, and there is no cure.  Some people suffer for years and years, some people see it on and off again after  travel, while others see it disappear in days to weeks.

It was a few of the most miserable weeks of my life.  I felt disabled.  Going into the grocery store and the thrift store had become a nightmare as the symptoms seemed to get worse.  Walking into a friends house with a cool tile pattern set me off until I walked back outside.  I couldn’t really focus my eyes on anything in particular and I felt like I was slowly turning into a little old lady.  I cannot imagine having this for years or even for my entire life.

Mal de Debarquement Syndrome also has the odd characteristic that motion, like driving in a car or riding a bike makes the symptoms subside until the motion stops.  Needless to say I spent a lot of time in the car.

Why am I writing this?  So that you know when I decline to get on a plane, it’s simply because I never want to experience this again.  I’ve always been vocal about my dislike of airplanes.  I mean really, how many people really enjoy sitting in a metal tube thousands of feet in the air for hours at a time?  But now I REALLY hate airplanes.

I’m also holding out hope that nothing triggers this again, and am VERY thankful that this subsided like it did.

To those of you who might be reading this that also have Mal de Barquement Syndrome this is all I did:

  • I never took prescriptions drugs.
  • 30 drops of Valerien/Passionflower glycerite compound in warm water to help me sleep.
  • Sleepytime tea for relaxation.
  • Green Pastures high vitamin butter oil/fermented cod liver oil mixture for general health and well being
  • Long walks (miles) and even longer bike rides at least every other day

So.  That’s what was going on with me and now I *think* I’m cured!  That is bliss!

Lisabuella Beach

100_0401

Today we explored Lisabuella Beach on the island.  On our way, we encountered this old guy.  anyone know what kind of duck it is?  He was very slow as he crossed the road, even for a duck.  I’m also assuming he’s a HE because of his bright colors.

The beach was deserted.  Perfect.

The kids spent time building with driftwood and Skylar found this shell that looked like a butterfly.  We put it in the grass until it was ready to fly away.

It’s definitely awesome when your the only ones at the beach.

We saw a bald eagle soaring and some small planes flying low.

Signs that spring is definitely here.  Although, it’s been pretty cold!  I’m so ready for the weather to warm up!

Enjoy your weekend!  Happy Mother’s Day!