It’s summertime in the park.  When Lisa and I take our regular walk around the loop in Washington Park we hear the sounds of campers in the forest and take in the smell of their burning campfires.  Campfire smells, like many smells, can conjure up some powerful memories of time spent with family and friends in the wilderness or along the water’s edge.   Do you have any you want to share?

It’s sunset.  The sky is transitioning from blue to orange and then black.  We go to the fire pit and begin to strategically place paper, dry leaves, and small twigs the kids gathered into the shape of a tepee.  I light a match, and we watch the leaves and paper smolder.  And then it reaches us, the first bit of smoke from the campfire.  But the smells don’t stop there.  We throw in some fir, pine, or oak limbs and out comes the flickering flame, the whispering hisses, and the sizzling pops.  

Sometimes we, as a family, cooked over the fire.  Other times it was simply s’mores.  We’d get out the lawn chairs, and as the night grew darker and colder, pull our chairs closer to the fire for warmth and comfort.  There would be jokes, hot chocolate, snacks, and stories of “Remember when . . .”  We watched for falling stars.  Pointed out the Big Dipper.  Listened to crickets, bull frogs croaking, and fish splashing.  You could close your eyes and let your eyelids paint yellow and orange kaleidoscopes as the heat of the campfire washed over you.  It was warm, inviting, and peaceful.

And the campfire smell stayed with you when you got home.  It got in your clothes and in your hair.  We never really noticed it until we walked into our clean home.  The contrast between our smokey smelling selves and our antiseptic home gave us one last chance to revel in the scent of the campfire, before it was washed down the shower drain.

I don’t get around a campfire as often as I used to do.  Somehow I’ve gotten away from the rest and relaxation a campfire can bring.  I think we all need a few campfires in our life every year.  We need to gather together as family and friends.  We need the peace and the tranquility a campfire brings.  We need the warmth, the gentleness, the comfort.  To simply talk, and perhaps more importantly, to listen.  Perhaps to be silent with each other.  A gentle touch.  A hug or two.  To be present and in the moment.

A few weeks ago our friends from California, Rich and Leslie Goddard, stayed with us a few days prior to getting onboard their Alaska cruise.  We toured them at a few local sites as well as taking them to San Juan Island for a day.  Below are a some pictures from our time together.

A week ago, Lisa and I were driving home from Utah/Idaho.  We spent a week visiting each and every family member that lives in either state (kids, grandkids, nieces, nephews, spouses, cousins, etc).  Lisa and I are blessed and fortunate to have great family and extended family.  Most of my day was spent installing backsplash tile in Sasha and James kitchen (which turned out great).  Below are a few pictures from our trip.

 Kitchen before tile work

 Kitchen after tile work

                                                     Sasha, James and boys

                        Lisa's nephew Eli working at his first job in a snow cone shop

With Chelsi and my Dad's Day gift from the girls

Lisa with Aspen and Oakley

Out walking Chelsi and Eric's new dog Jones

Do you remember Popeye the Sailor Man?  He’s the good-natured, easy-going guy who tries to get through life as peacefully and cheerfully as possible.  In the animated cartoon episodes, his emotional fortitude is always being tested by mean, nasty, abusive people around him, some of whom like to whale on him physically.

At a certain point in each cartoon episode, he reaches his tipping point and says, “That's all I can stands - I can’t stands no more!”, after which he blows up.  He whips out a can of spinach, downs it in one gulp, flexes his muscles, and then mops the floor with his tormenters.

I refer to that instant of self-assertion, metaphorically, as the Popeye tipping point.  I imagine that almost every one of us has had one or more Popeye experiences during our life.  Lisa and I recently reached our Popeye tipping point regarding the master bedroom shower.  After having to endure over five years with the horrible, nauseating color of the shower tile (the previous owner choose the color because it reminded her of the ocean), we decided to do something about changing it.  

We received a bid to replace the tile… $35,000.  Well, that’s not going to happen anytime soon, so we investigated reglazing the existing tile.  Reglazing is also called resurfacing, refinishing, or even painting (though painting isn’t quite accurate).  The reglazer strips the finish from the tile and then sprays a thin coat of enamel over the entire surface of the tile wall and floor.  They sprayed the first coat last week.  They will come back next week to finish the job.  See pictures below.

Old bathroom tile

 Shower after reglazing

While Lisa and I were cleaning out the hair from the floor drain, the pliers slipped out of Lisa’s hand (the plastic grip slid off) and the pliers fell a couple of feet down the drain to the P-trap below.  My sweet wife suggested we simply use a magnet to retrieve the pliers.  At first, the logical side of my brain thought, “This is a stupid idea” but then remembered I do have a high powered magnet in my arsenal of man tools.  I tied a string onto the magnet and lowered it down the drain.  Voila, it worked.  My Lisa is soooo smart.  

Great news.  Ian got his first job, as a new business owner, inspecting his first septic system.  I went along on the maiden project.  Two days later he was doing his second inspection.  Hopefully this is a good sign of things to come.

Some of you will be disappointed to know that we have sold our share in the sailboat.  We are grateful for the experience of learning how to sail, but our next boat will be a motorboat.

Happy birthday Sasha

Happy birthday Kaylene