Playing Hookie

I must have been about 22.
It was early in the morning.    
I'd already hit snooze on the alarm too many times when the phone rang and pulled me out of a hazy sleep.  
"Call in sick!  We're playing hooky today!"  It was my dad.
Funny how something other than work could propel me out of bed so quickly!
No questions asked, I did as I was told and called in sick.  

My parents lived in a custom built dome home on a private airstrip. My husband Todd and I lived in a rental on their property.  I walked across the yard to find my dad in the hanger prepping his Cessna 210 for flight.  "Where are we going?" I asked.  "We're flying to the ocean to play today" was his reply.  It only took about 30 minutes from takeoff to get to the ocean.  That's the best part about flying - all the time you don't have to ride in the car!  Back then there was a small airstrip downtown Ocean Shores as well as a strip of sand on the beach just North of Ocean Shores proper that was designated for airplanes to land on.  Dad asked me where I thought we should touch down and of course I said THE BEACH!!  

In my mind I can still see the dunes blurring by as we landed on the firm sand about half way up the beach from the water.  Dad taxied off the strip and parked.  Then we walked to town and had lunch at a beachfront restaurant.  After lunch we walked around a bit and passed a shop that rented mo-peds.  Dad ducked in there and the next thing I knew we were each riding off towards the beach with the throttles wide open.  Down in the sand we raced and spun out and zipped in and out of the water and then kicked up wet sand at each other from spinning the rear tires and aiming just so.  I was laughing so much I got more than a mouthful of sand that day.

Eventually, exhausted we returned the mo-peds and trekked back to the plane.  The tide had come up rather close.  The sand was a little looser than dad would have liked under our tires but we finally took flight and headed back home, happy and exhausted with the setting sun kissing our tail wings.

Snow Lake and back Again

In August 2011 I went hiking with a couple of friends.  The one guy of the group was in charge of deciding when and where with the only stipulation that I needed to be back for a work related meeting at 3pm.  He picked an "easy" hike from Alpental to Snow Lake.   We started early and since I'm a trusting person that likes to go with the flow I didn't feel the need to fact check.  I had a pack of essentials for both my dog and I. Plenty of water,  etc.

Snow Lake is 3.5 miles UP with an elevation gain of 1800 feet.   I'm an out of shape beginner hiker.  My friend Terry estimated a total of 3 hours round trip.   Two hours in I knew I wasn't turning back for a meeting.   There was no way in hell I'd go that far and not go the distance.   At 4 hours we reached the top of the climb where I took the attached photo,  but the lake was still 30 minutes in.  Down hill.  Which meant climbing back out if we went.   Again I said "if I've gotten this far there is no way I'm not going the distance."  So in we went.   It was worth it!  My dog was so happy to swim and play.  He's about 10 years old but had his puppy face on that day. 

Round trip was 7 miles.  It took us 6 hours.   I missed the meeting.  I didn't care.   My muscles screamed for a week.   I could hardly walk.  But I loved every minute of the pain because it reminded me of the amazing thing I'd done.   Had I known all the facts in advance I wouldn't have attempted it.   This was proof to me that what I can do is only limited by my own mindset.  I made it all the way to Show Lake and back again!   

Ruger

In 2010 I decided I wanted to adopt a dog.   I love dogs.  My dad had Labs when I was young but otherwise I'd never had a dog before. Working from home and  alone all day was an ideal situation for adopting a rescue.  I spent weeks reading and researching and looking at breeds and surfing Pet Finder.  I knew I wanted a mature dog.  Potty trained for sure.   I was convinced that I wanted a pure bred Tibetan Mastiff up until I learned how naughty and head strong they are.   I knew I wanted to be alpha so I scrapped that idea and started over.   A friend suggested I look at Bernese Mountain dogs.   She was sure that what I really was in love with were the eyebrows and that this would be a more manageable breed for a first time dogmom.  

A month of looking turned up nothing but I kept at it.   I went to visit a girlfriend in San Francisco and one night while I was there I stumbled across a dog listed from Monroe, WA.  The instant I saw his face I knew he was MY dog.  But I wouldn't get back to Washington for two weeks!  I contacted the shelter and said "That's my dog!  Please don't let anyone take him before I get there!"  But, they made no promises.  I held my breath as I checked the website every night to see if MY dog was still there.  

He was about 6 years old (they guessed) and had been found wandering the streets of Tacoma.  He was listed as Bernese and Australian Shepherd mix.  He had one blue eye and one brown eye.   I was hopelessly in love.

My first day back in the state I went straight to Monroe to meet MY dog.   He was shy,  sweet and reserved.  They called him Mufasa.  He lived in a little community shelter with 7 other dogs.   The dog house was people sized with 8 doggie beds. I loved that the windows were all at dog height,  I had to squat down to see out.  I started the adoption paperwork which was a nerve wracking experience.   I was so worried that we'd fail some part of their huge list of requirements.  It was an arduous process that required references, background check,  a home visit and yard inspection.  Because it's all volunteer run the process took a couple of weeks to complete.   Then FINALLY I got the call that he was mine! 

I will never forget his first night here.   I put his new bed on the floor near my bed.  He was curled up in it watching me.  I got down on the floor with him nose to nose and told him he was home and safe and loved.   And at the same time I was thinking "please don't bite my face off".  (He has never bitten anyone but at the time we didn't know each other).

As a family we talked about names for a couple of weeks.  It was unanimously agreed that we had to unanimously agree on his new name.  That hadn't happened yet.  One night we were all sitting together in the living room with laptops and smart phones.  We went down lists of favorite movies,  characters,  authors,  etc.  Nothing was sticking.   Then Jordan wandered onto a list of gun manufacturers.  Now THESE were good strong names!   Reading down the list there were lots of maybes.  And then he read the name "Ruger" and that was that. Votes were cast and it became official.  Done. 

When I received Ruger's official papers from the vet his breed was listed as: Bernese Mt., Australian Shepherd and........ Tibetan Mastiff.  :)

https://youtu.be/--CBAc5vICs

Dad n Me

When I was 12 my dad purchased an air plane.  A Cesna 210.  But it was in Montana and we lived in Washington.  My dad's flying buddy Randy was a negotiator who had his own airplane and flew all over the country for work.   He and my dad cooked up a plan.   Randy had a deal to mediate in Washington DC.   Randy,  his daughter Joi, my dad and I all flew in Randy's small plane to DC.  My dad spent the days taking Joi and I to every landmark, memorial and on every tour he possibly could.  (We were in the gallery of congress on the day that the Susan B Anthony dollar was voted on and passed.)

There are a zillion happy memories from that trip but you'll see why I remembered this one...

One evening dad and I got all dressed up fancy and went to a very upscale French restaurant for dinner,  just the two of us.  He really set out to make a special daddy daughter date of it and I was so excited!  The restaurant was like nothing I had ever seen or experienced.  A very grown up place.  I was the only child there.   I remember feeling really self conscious because I didn't want to make a mistake and embarrass my dad.  The waiter had on a tuxedo.  And spoke with a very thick accent.  I couldn't understand anything he said.   And the menu... was in French.   

We were probably there for 15 minutes before my dad leaned accross the table motioning me close.   He whispered.... "you wanna get out of here and go get a pizza?"  YES!  We hailed a cab and went to Georgetown.  Found a fun little pizza place that we were totally over dressed for.  It was the best night ever! 

On the way home a week later Randy dropped my dad and I off at Yellowstone where we saw some sights and then took possession of dads new plane and flew ourselves home. 

21 years later....
A whole bunch more happy memories.  Dad and I ended up in DC - again.  We retraced many of our steps from our first visit.   Chose many of the same sights and museums "remembering when".  And we tried to find "our" pizza place but it wasn't there anymore. 

Always Safe. Always Ready

My dad was a sea captain for over 35 years.  He worked for a Seattle based tug boat company and spent half roughly of my life out on the ocean and sound from Seattle to Alaska.  The bulk of his job was local, towing log booms up and down the coast and navigating the big freighters in from the ocean to dock in Seattle and Tacoma.  When the Exxon Valdeze did it's messy thing, my dad was up there.  He also spent time on security at the top of the Alaska pipeline.    It was no surprise that when Jordan graduated high school he decided to follow in his granddad's footsteps.

 
By 2011, my dad had been gone from the company for 20 years but I still picked up the phone and schmoozed a meeting for Jordan with the HR manager.  Once that far I stepped back and let him go.  He landed a job as a deckhand working on a tug boat in the Chuchki sea - way up in North Alaska above the Arctic circle.  There is a mining operation called Red Dog and they run ore 24/7 out of the mine until the freeze hits.  (May-Nov).  Jordan spent 4 months up there learning the "ropes".  His duties included a lot of grunt work but he also learned a lot by hanging out with the chief engineer on his time off.  It took two tug and barge combinations, three days of running back and forth 24/7 from port to the freighter sitting five miles off the shore to fill it.  (It's a very shallow port.)  As soon as that freighter left, another would park in it's place.  It was a summer of a lifetime for my boy!  He found his sea legs and absolutely loved the work but was really miserable being so far from home and completely cut off from family and friends.  He was allowed to email but they only turned on the satellite once a day to send/receive it.  It was a really hard summer on mom too.  Really. Hard.
 
When he came home between tours Jordan and I spent a whole day together just junking around and blowing with the wind.  I took him to Tacoma to see his great grandma, we toured the maritime museum, walked the waterfront and just had a really amazing day together.   I will forever remember the moment, at the end of the day when he took the "guest" sticker from the museum off of his coat and ceremoniously added it to my little sticker collection on the rear view mirror of my Durango. He smiled at me when he did it because he knew I'd leave it there forever.  It was a very good fun day.  That was so many years ago - I can't believe the sticker hasn't fallen off!  That day I also took him to visit an old sea captain that has been a lifelong family friend.  The first thing he did was look Jordan in the eye and say "HOW IN THE HELL DID YOU GET THAT JOB??  No one EVER walks in off the street and gets a job with Foss."  I was pretty doggone proud of my boy and just sure that my dad opened those doors for him from his place in "heaven".

The other cool little happy memory that goes along with this story is that when Jordan came home from Alaska the first time, he brought home souvenirs for everyone.  But they were not your usual gift shop fodder.  His gifts were way more personal and thoughtful.  He made a brass ring for his girlfriend from scrap pipe on board the tug.  They had decommissioned some of the very special/expensive tow ropes used for the barges and he brought one home for Brian.  I collect sand.  My boy remembered that and went ashore to get sand (really more gravel) from the beach for his momma.  It's really amazing when someone knows you THAT well and puts THAT much thought into something.  But then, that's how I raised him to be.  Ü
 
This video was taken when Jordan was aboard ship.  I can't see him but he was there the day the film crew took a ride along.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3NPL_d6hYj0   
 
It was difficult for Jordan to make the decision not to return the next year.  I encouraged him to follow his heart no matter what.  That the money would come from somewhere else if he didn't go back.  Being the child of a tugboat captain, I'm really glad he chose to stay here and follow his heart.  Some day his future family will benefit greatly from that choice.

Let Them Eat Cake! (Off the Sidewalk)

Mother's Day 2000

For my gift,  Jordan had baked a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and colored sprinkles.   He was so proud of it!  We were going to my grandparents for dinner that night and decided to take the cake with us to have for dessert.  Jordan carefully held the cake in his lap the whole car ride there.  As my boy went to get out of the car somehow the cake dumped out of his lap and upside down onto the sidewalk.  Instantly his little eyes filled with the biggest pools of tears I'd ever seen. 

 

"Stay right there." I commanded.  "Don't move a muscle."  Then I dashed inside the house and told grandma to get 4 forks and meet us on the sidewalk, pronto!  Both Gram and Papa were in their early 80's at the time.  We hadn't had dinner yet but the 4 of us sat together on a busy sidewalk in Tacoma with forks in hand eating all of that chocolate cake right off the ground.  We had to be careful when we got down to the frosting layer though, it had pebbles and dirt in it.  This is one of my proudest parenting moments.  I didn't always do it this good - but this was one for the family history books!

No One Is Coming To Save You

One day, I was talking to my adult son about a significant life situation in which I felt helpless to alter. He looked me in the eyes and with a gentle, earnest voice he said, "Mom, no one is coming to save you. You have to save yourself." 

Those two short sentences, spoken with wisdom beyond his years, pricked something deep in my soul. For days I rolled them around in my mind like an old cat batting at a new toy. "No one is coming to save you." Well, logically I knew that. But did I have the tools to save myself from what seemed like a helpless situation? I knew I did not. I needed to do some tool shopping. 

As I reflected on what kind of tools I might need to aquire, I was surprised by the direction my mind went. For most of my adult life, I have been plagued by horrible nightmares. In them, the situations are varied but my role, is always the same. The helpless victim. In my waking life I am a mover and a shaker. A problem solver. A doer. I am not a victim! I never understood why I wasn't as badass in my sleep as I thought I was when awake. I used daily self talk and mantras to try to convince my sleeping brain that "I've got this" and I would write new scripts of those nightmares and rehearse different outcomes in my mind. To no avail. And then it hit me. If I wanted to be able to defend myself physically in my bad dreams, like any actor I needed to learn and rehearse the actual moves of true self defense. So I started asking around and a friend mentioned a class that she took at Bellevue College and I found Joanne Factor of Strategic Living.

Though my finances were tight,  I knew I had to find a way to get to class. I set my sights 3 months out and started to save money. It wasn't a logical expense at the time. It was a sacrifice and it wasn't easy. My boyfriend was critical of my spending choice. "You don't need to take a class babe, I'll take care of you" he said. But he didn't understand how deep this went for me. I rarely felt physically unsafe in my awake world. I was intentional about making sure I didn't get into situations where I felt unsafe. I always went out with friends in groups, avoided shady areas of town at night, walked with undistracted awareness to my car when I was alone, and held my keys as a weapon if anything felt even remotely unsafe. I wasn't afraid. This was simply how I was raised to think. To not be a victim. But I needed more tools, real tools of self defense to rewrite the script in my nightmares. I was so excited when class started! I was there to learn and nothing would get in my way! 

The lessons Joanne taught were interesting, engaging and practical.  Between classes I read the homework assignments, watched self defense videos on YouTube and practiced what I learned with my son. 

A few weeks ago I was leaving the gym and another member (male) followed me out to the parking garage. I stopped walking, turned to the side and said, "I'll feel more comfortable walking behind you". He looked at me in surprise. I'm sure he was just going to his car without any thought of me, but I was really uncomfortable alone in the parking garage like that. Thank you Strategic Living for teaching me how to use my voice and instincts!

The classes I took at Strategic Living were life changing! Since taking the course at Bellevue College I can count how many nightmares I've had on one hand and I feel empowered and prepared to handle anything the waking hours bring too!