Coming from Alaska, I am partial to mountains and oceans. South Dakota couldn’t be any more different than Alaska if it tried. Not that I am judging, or anything. When I took my trip there this summer, we decided to take a road trip west to see some of the more….mountainous regions, you might say. The Badlands looked like a good place to explore…and they didn’t disappoint. The only disappointing part was that we were on a time schedule and couldn’t hike all the trails, we managed to fit in three different ones -but plan to go back and do some more exploring.
The other downside was that not being used to the heat and sun -and not drinking nearly enough water -I ended up with a pretty bad headache at the end of the day. But lesson learned!
So, I met a guy
I said the words, my hands wrapped around a London Fog, playing with the cup as I said them. Tears brimming up in my eyes. I glanced up across the table to get her reaction, fully expecting to have to fight to the end for this guy, I had met.
“He’s really special to me, and I hope he is to you as well.”
It’s not that I didn’t want to tell people about him…I guess it was more I wanted to make sure he was really the one I wanted to defend when things hit the fan, you know, the one I wanted to go to bat over when people started to judge…silently and not so silently.
Over the past couple of years, I have slowly found myself in a position of teaching preschoolers…and shock of all shock, I enjoy it. Scratch that. I love it. I found my people in a group of 3 and 4 year olds.
As the years have passed, I’ve been given more and more freedom in the room and have even flown solo in a group of preschoolers where I am far outnumbered.
While I have never really had, long-term goals in life -I can say without hesitation, that being a preschool teacher, full-time, is something I am pursuing. So, you know, stay tuned.
All that is to say, that today I was in the preschool room again and was looking for a fun, (but easy) but messy! -activity.
Late last year, Yoshi started to favor one of her back legs. A trip to the vet determined that she had “ruptured a ligament” in her knee.
It was a fairly common injury the vet assured me and there were three options: Do nothing. Send her North for the “Golden package” which would roughly cost the price of a small apartment, or the middle option -a more reasonable fix that would allow her to run again, but would require some extensive post therapy.
It all happened around the time when I was busy taking advantage of my travel freedoms and jetting here and there like there was no tomorrow. I put the decision off until a few months later when she started to carry her leg full time. I ran the numbers and determined the cost of her pain meds would quickly justify the middle option for surgery and booked her an appointment.
Well, we made it to Friday. Does it matter? I’m not really sure anymore!
But we made it. One week is in the books. So. I guess it counts.
I haven’t been to Coast Guard Beach since I was probably six. The only thing I remember about it was on our back -someone got stung by a bee. And then I was tasked with carrying the pink coat -which in my mind, was the reason behind the bee sting. It was a very long walk back knowing that at any minute I could be taken down by the bee.
There were no bees today. Just me and this one: