A beautiful and cold day at the lake ...

Today was the Daffodil Cup regatta at American Lake, and the kiddos and I yanked ourselves out of bed to go cheer on the Lutes and the kiddos' Coach Auntie & Coach Uncle. The strange spring snow the last few days had me nervous about making the trek, but other than being a WEE bit on the cold side, the day was beautiful.



For a whole half-hour we stuck it out.



And despite the Eldest proclaiming desires to cheer the team, she couldn't find both her pom-pons, so apparently got stage fright. But she was silently very proud, and cheering in her own little way.



The Eldest and the Boy seemed to enjoy watching the boats from the dock. The youngest ... not so much.







Once feet were on solid ground, all had fun testing out their new "waterproof" shoes.



The Eldest insisted that I take a picture of the water. She thinks it's so beautiful that it should be the wallpaper on my iPhone. I prefer pictures of my munchkins, but might oblige her for a day or two.



The park just up the hill was a big hit as well. Baby Girl was very happy to be on the swing. So was her Big Sis.





King of the Castle ... er, the Barron of the Bronatsaurus? Or is that American Lake's own Loch Ness?



Back to that whole beautiful day theme ... it was. There was color and light and nature everywhere. Having grown up in the woods, it was a nostalgic walk back to the car as the kids (except the Short One who was scared of the big trees) ran gleefully through and around the trees.



These were likely the woods my grandfather ran in.





And now, I stare out at the deep, dark blue clouds threatening to impede my afternoon sunny delight ... and I say, let 'em come. I had my outdoor time. I'm ready to grab a cup o' cocoa and watch the weather ...

Philosophical ramblings on Thoreau and Tacoma

When I (allegedly) read Henry David Thoreau's Walden during my years as a Lute, it didn't phase me much.

Today, a single quote ran me over.

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived." (Henry David Thoreau, Walden, 1854)

I had just completed a free-writing exercise about "what motivates me." I had started with the typical things. My family, my friends, creating a positive environment, passionate people, etc. Which is, in part, true. But I quickly realized it isn't the essence of my motivation. It's the superficial, brain-friendly side of things. But what is it that makes me passionate about even those things?

I wrapped up the 5-minute writing session realizing that, honestly, it's fear that motivates me.

I'm afraid of not living, of being a mere observer rather than grabbing the reins and taking charge of the years I have. I'm afraid of looking back 50 years from now and having pushed my "what if" list, my "to do" list, my "if only" list so far into the "I'll do it later" realm that I miss out on being an active participant in not just my community and family life, but in MY life.

And then I looked up to Thoreau's quote on the project screen in front of me.

Spooky.

You see, I'm not one to take things literally.

I'd been peeking through the trees of my woods for years, but never had the courage to just walk in. To see what was there. Last year, that changed. A lot changed in my life. Family roles, jobs, the things on my to-do list. And while the path through the woods is still a bit spooky, I feel like now that I had the courage to wander down the path I hadn't yet followed, it's the right path.

To quote another great writer: "I found passion for life in Tacoma." (Thanks, Neko.)

This Thoreau, the unknown, the fear to wake up later with regrets, it explains a lot about my passion for the town where I finally learned to unleash my inner sphinx.

And thus I continue to preach: Live local; die happy.

Not sure where to get started?

Check out a few of these spunky, soul-feeding, fundamentally Tacoma things that you can be a part of, as an observer ... or a participant.

• Community Gardens in Tacoma: A Growing Conversation (it's just beginning ...)
• First Night Tacoma-Pierce County (mark your calendar for Dec. 31 ... this fun fest is coming back)
• Buy Local. (When you support local businesses, you support your community. My favorite shop local location: King's Books in the St. Helens/Stadium District, just north of downtown. That's where I'll be ordering a copy of Thoreau's Walden as soon as I'm done blogging.)

And there are plenty other ways to grab the reins locally and help make sure that when you look back, decades from now, you're happy with what you see. There's plenty more out there ... these are just my three favorites of the moment.

My main request: Do something that scares you.

Garfield Street of Today

Apparently the region of Parkland surrounding the PLU campus has been going through a pretty incredible renaissance all its own, thanks in part to the current Garfield Commons project. I had a meeting over yonder in the outer limits of Tacoma and decided to take a little tour around my alma mater, and holy cow; I'm officially jealous -- can I go back to school?

When I drove onto campus in late August of 1994 for my freshman year of college at Pacific Lutheran University, the Garfield Street business district was pretty barren. There had been a recent fire in the brick building mainstay of the street, affecting the apartments above and the businesses below. Which of course affected what was left when we arrived. But I just remember thinking -- and remember, this is coming from a farm girl -- that there just wasn't much there.

I'm happy to say that was the year the Garfield Street Business Association formed, and kicked things into gear with better organization among the businesses, even occasional events. It has slowly morphed into the street I wished it was when I was there. (Seriously, can I go back to school? I'd do so much differently -- like study more, and sleep more.)

I personally link the changes to Northern Pacific Coffee Company moving onto the block. The then-20-something owner knew his target audience, and over the years grew and changed to fit those needs. Starting with good coffee and hooking us youngun's with 2-for-1 deals, we kept coming back. (My husband blames original owner Steve for beginning his coffee addiction.) In response, NPCC kept expanding. First into the shop next door. Eventually taking over the back office as well. Now instead of a couch and a couple tables, there are plenty of tables and chairs, walls of books, a stage for open mic nights and small performances, wine and beer, plenty of food. It's a place that appeals to many generations and many faces. While ownership has changed hands, many of the touches are still there -- and I had to wonder today, while waiting for my triple vanilla Americano (no longer a mint or almond mocha), that I think some of the chalked handwriting on the blackboard menus may have been there for many, many years.

Many places have come and gone: An awesome, authentic New York-style pizza place; Mr. T's, a southern-style BBQ place that was so good, but apparently gigantic sausage sandwiches didn't quite mesh with the predominantly lutefisk crowd; an Italian deli; and even one of the original Taco del Mar shops (which became a Planet Burrito when the original owners parted ways) -- I think that spot is now the fabulous Reyna's, a great spot for good, inexpensive Mexican cuisine. From the Bayou came, gave our taste buds the ride of a lifetime, and stayed. And now I see that Farrelli's Pizza (whose drool-inducing concoctions can now be found at Union and 6th Ave. in Tacoma proper) will be opening at the corner of Garfield and Pacific Avenue in the near-ish future ... where the Piggly Wiggly was before my day, the crazy-somewhat-scary grocery store was during my day, and where the can't-even-remember-the-name thrift store limped along for years following.

It's bizarre to see all the action on that corner of civilization.

Between the improving business district, the new dorm, sorry -- residence hall, on lower campus and the many new buildings and offerings -- I kind of wish I could go back to school. Perhaps my kids will someday let me live vicariously. Or I'll just have to get to that end of town more often.

Good job Garfield. You're really purring, now.