Savoring the Flavor of Christmas

Ahhhh Christmas. It comes around every year like clockwork, to the point that it begins to feel routine. This is the time when we buy the gifts. Bake the cookies. Read the stories. Decorate the tree.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

Sometimes it's easy to feel like Christmas is simply another auto-pilot day of our lives. If someone asked me what was special about Christmas when I was 10 years old, I honestly don't know that I could remember enough detail about that particular year to really answer the question.  Who can recall that level of detail? Certainly nobody over 40.

Although the specific details grow fuzzy over time, and the lifetime collection of Christmas memories seems to morph into one big blob of "How We Do Christmas", there are lots of different Christmas seasons in our life. Each one unique.

My earliest Christmas memories involve belting out "Go Tell it on the Mountain" with a motley crew of Sunday School kids. This was when I was young and living in Ohio, where it was cold (for real) at Christmas time.  I remember tromping into church bundled in snow boots and multiple layers of clothing, and then peeling away coats and mittens and changing into our Sunday Shoes before church began.

When I was a bit older, and living in California, it became tradition for my grandmother to visit us for most of the holiday season from Thanksgiving straight on through until nearly New Years.  With her living in Detroit, this was the solution that allowed her to be present for all the family holiday celebrations without having to fly back and forth twice. I loved Christmas because it meant that Grandma Davis was my roommate for a month.  I never had a sister to share a room with, so I thought it was the bees knees sleeping on a cot in the corner with my grandma snuggled up in my bed.

During the college years, Christmas meant coming home. After experiencing the excitement of living on my own, this "coming home" business didn't always hold the charm that one might expect. I mean, I loved my parents, and I was all about getting the gifts.  But I could get a full dose of that in like two or three days.  College Christmas break lasted for 4 WEEKS. You do the math.

Sometime in my early 20's there was the last Christmas in Chicago. Although it was a bittersweet trip to spend time with my grandfather who was in rapidly declining health, it sticks out as one of my favorite Christmases. I remember us deciding that it would be too much of an inconvenience to get a Christmas tree for my grandfather's house since we would have to get it, decorate it, un-decorate and dispose of it ourselves during our brief stay. And then suddenly about halfway through Christmas Eve, we decided we NEEDED a tree and the mad hunt for a tree lot began. We drove all around town and finally found one sad tree, and then dashed into the drug store to find some decorations. Candy canes (believe it or not) were actually sold out, so we ended up buying round, peppermint candies to hang as decorations.

As an adult, I've had the Christmas alone while my sweetheart was deployed overseas. I've had the bubbling-with-excitement-Christmas when we announced that we were pregnant. I've had a handful of Christmases where our tree was surrounded by a sturdy baby gate. There was the year that the cat climbed and knocked down the Christmas tree (A.K.A. "Our last year with a real tree").There was the super fun year when a swing set grew in our backyard on Christmas morning. And there were years where it seemed my in-laws house could hardly contain the wrapping paper, giggles and energy of 5 young cousins celebrating Christmas together.

This year those cousins are all older, in their "college years" stage of Christmas. But there's a new batch of cousins in the family with an equal supply of energy and giggles. The family party that was traditionally hosted by my in-laws is now at our house, both because they have downsized and because we like staying home and having the party come to us. I'm aware that this year I'll put Santa's name on the gift tag, but it's likely that nobody in our house is a believer anymore.

Christmas comes every year, but always in a little different flavor. Some details will get lost in your dusty memory bank, but some will linger bright and clear for years to come.  Hard to say which is which.  Only time will tell.

One year you think you'll never fall asleep with all your excitement over Santa's visit. Then suddenly one year, going to bed early is your greatest Christmas wish.

Keep your eye out for the flavor of this Christmas, and savor it, salty or sweet.

True North.

I saw Her today.  For the first time since July 23, I caught a glimpse of Mt. Shasta.

For nearly 8 weeks, our mountain has been elusive, hidden behind a smoke screen that wouldn't budge. When I finally caught a glimpse of the mountain today I think I may have fully exhaled for the first time in months.

Our fire took so much from us, and it's impossible to weigh the relative significance or value of different things that we've lost.  But life without our "true north" has affected me more than I expected.  For days weeks months I've looked out my car windows wondering how long this game of hide and seek could possibly go on.

Mt. Shasta is our beacon.  In the distance, it stands as testimony to our place in the world.  It tells the story of our seasons. It snags clouds as they go by and creates unique works of art in the sky with each new gust of wind. Without the mountain in plain sight every day I felt a bit lost and unsettled.  Without foothills and mountains for reference, it felt as if our city had somehow come untethered and was floating in space....smoke-choked, hazy space.

The mountain has changed since I last saw Her.  She's still a tad obscured with smoke.  She looked a bit tired and beat up.  I almost didn't recognize Her.  She had changed somehow. And then I realized She had two months of summer snowmelt since I last saw Her.

Two months.

During the past two months we've evacuated, watched over 1,000 homes burn, repopulated and become BFF's with PurpleAir. Funerals were held, we sifted through ashes, we cut down thousands of hazardous trees. We made thank you cards for firefighters and police, we've delivered cookies to the Forest Service and PG&E, and watched highways close, open, and close again as fires devoured the forests around us. We've come up with snappy hashtags (#StrongerThanCarr, #ShastaStrong), we've embraced FEMA and cursed FEMA, and we've watched baseball games and cross country practice get canceled week after week while the smoke lingered. At some point during the past two months, every last one of us have grieved, given thanks, and been left speechless by both beauty and destruction.

We're a little changed.  More bruised.  Maybe more cautious and more jumpy.  But also more grateful.  More compassionate and more giving.

I wonder if She recognized us when the smoke cleared today.

Mt. Shasta, August 2017.

How Can We Help?

As our community begins the healing process after the Carr Fire, people have asked how they can help.  Although the emergency need for things like bottled water and breathing masks has passed, the needs of our community will grow and evolve throughout the coming months.  So I wanted to toss out some suggestions.  There are countless organizations that will accept donations for this relief and rebuilding effort.  I'm going to share some ideas but this is by no means an exhaustive list.  This is just a starting point.  I know it often feels more gratifying to donate to a specific project or person instead of a general disaster relief fund.  So, if you're looking for a more personal place to focus your donation dollars, here are some suggestions from a local girl. (If you have other suggestions for local donations, please feel free to leave them in the comments!)

1. NVCSS Adopt-a-Carr-Family
Northern Valley Catholic Social Services runs an adopt-a-family program at Christmas for needy families.  Now they have graciously taken on the administration of an Adopt-a-Carr Family program, allowing donors to directly meet the needs of families affected by the fire.  Donated items can be dropped off at their office September 5-8, 2018. (If you are an out-of-town friend and want to adopt a family, I can accept shipments of donated items and deliver them for you.  An Amazon or Target gift registry can make this easy to accomplish from anywhere around the US. Message me for details!)

2. Haven Humane Society
Haven Humane is our local animal shelter.  They took in HUNDREDS of evacuated, lost or injured animals, and also ended up evacuating the entire facility temporarily during the Carr Fire.  You can track the whole journey on their Facebook page.  They incurred significant expense caring for our local fur babies during this emergency.  I know they would appreciate some love. 

3. Shasta Union Elementary School
Shasta Elementary was the only school in the Redding area that was displaced by the Carr Fire.  Students began the school year at a temporary location while their school is repaired.  The main building still stands, but the playground and outbuildings were heavily damaged. Over half of the student body was displaced at least temporarily during the Carr Fire, and 35 students (about 28% of their student body) lost their homes.  The school is accepting donations to rebuild, and gift cards to assist their families.  Gift cards and monetary donations can be sent to Shasta Elementary School 5885 E. Bonnyview Road Redding, CA 96001.  Please make checks payable to Shasta Elementary School and write “Shasta Giving Tree” on the memo line.

4.  Friends of Whiskeytown
Here in Redding, we are lucky enough to live just a few miles from Whiskeytown National Recreation Area.  If you look at the Carr Fire map, you will see that the fire swept around the entire perimeter of the lake.  Along with the many trees that burned, much of the infrastructure around the Oak Bottom Marina was also destroyed, as well as a long list of other park amenities.  The Friends of Whiskeytown is a nonprofit organization dedicated to raising private funds to support the park.  Over the years The Friends have purchased kayaks for ranger-led tours, paid for new trail bridges, and much more.  They help fill the gaps when federal funding falls short.  The recovery process at Whiskeytown will be long and expensive.  A gift to the Friends of Whiskeytown is truly a gift to the community at large, as the recovery of this crown jewel is an important step in healing for all of us that enjoy the trails, beaches, and educational programs offered at Whiskeytown. 

5.  GoFundMe
There are over 800 Carr Fire-related GoFundMe pages.  (Disclaimer...some have not proven to be legit) If you're looking for a story to inspire your giving, look no further.  Here are the GoFundMe stories that I know personally, or that I know to be true. There's the guy with the incredible Christmas display who dresses up like Santa and passes out cookies and hot cocoa every year.  There's the family of five from our church that lost everything.  There's the young firefighter and his family that were burned out of their rental. There's a family with young children that was off sailing the Virgin Islands and came home to nothing. There's the guy that makes amazing homemade sausages that we buy at the farmer's market.  There's the local swim team trying to keep their heads above water after being forced to cancel two of their major fundraising events. And there's the Redding firefighter that lost his life and left behind a wife and two children. 


6. Shasta Regional Community Foundation
SRCF has proven themselves to be a trusted community partner in raising, managing, and distributing funds to benefit our community.  They were uniquely poised to set up a disaster relief fund almost overnight, and I trust them to be thoughtful in how they disburse funds to aid the short term and long term recovery efforts. Yes, it's somewhat impersonal to donate to some giant relief fund.  But rest assured, these dollars will be well spent. They will go toward needs big and small, needs that might not be glamorous, and needs that we haven't yet identified. Truly, this recovery will take more than cases of bottled water and emergency blankets.  This fund will support the full evolution of our community in recovery. 

As I said, there are lots of ways to help because this recovery is so big.  There is debris to clear, homes to rebuild, dead trees to remove, trails to repair, bridges to fix, and water lines to patch. Beyond that, there are neighbors to care for, prayers to be said and a shell-shocked community to be stitched back together. We are now past the sensational "Fire Tornado" headlines, but this story is not yet over.  The chapter of our rising has just begun.  

Carr Fire Recap: Guessing Games, Gratitude, and Gusto

I live in a town of 90, 000 people, so when over 1,000 homes burn in a wildfire, it's not a guessing game wondering if you know someone that lost their home.  It's a waiting game to see how many you know.  Or maybe a macabre horror film would be a better description.

So far our count is up to five.  I'm sure there are more that we just haven't heard about yet.

And that's just the homes that are completely destroyed.

There are numerous friends that lost fences, trees and landscaping, one friend that lost her boat docked at Oak Bottom marina, and one friend that lost the guest cottage behind her home. To many to count are going home to freezers full of rotten food, smoke damage, and scarred neighborhoods that bear witness to the furious path of the fire tornado. Some friends still wait for the evacuation order to be lifted, bunked up with extended family. All of us will eventually have to venture out into our yards to hose down the toxic layer of ash that has accumulated on pool decks, patio furniture, and backyard swing sets.

All of us will remember the evening of July 26, 2018 when this "wild" fire became "our" fire.  It got personal.  It burned through the forest surrounding our beloved Whiskeytown Lake and headed for Redding city limits with a speed and appetite that fouled every effort to contain it. The concept of "defensible space", so familiar to those that live in the semi-rural outskirts of town, quickly became a parlor joke in the face of this burning monster. Bare ground, tile roofs, properly trimmed trees and irrigated landscaping designed to stop the spread of fire were mere speed bumps, as the fire raced forward at a ferocious pace never seen before.

Although the flames were miles away from us, we packed up the valuables and photo albums as a precautionary measure.  Trying to be calm as we loaded the car did not fool our children who immediately became worried and wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

In the aftermath of the fire, there were days of constant texting and emails to check in with friends, confirm their safety, and guess about who and what had been lost. The airport that had buzzed with fire plane activity for days, suddenly became eerily quiet as the smoke settled in and it became unsafe to attack the fire from the air. My son became teary-eyed as I described to him what it meant for his friends that had lost their homes.

"So, their toys burned?"

Yes.

"What about their shoes?"

Yes.

"Their bed?"

Yes.  Everything.  It all burned.

We visited the Red Cross shelter to donate some non-perishable snacks to those that had been displaced.  Our local community college, normally a beautiful, green campus buzzing with students of all ages, was covered with a blanket of dense, gray smoke and became a temporary holding place for dazed fire refugees that quietly milled about.

In the grocery store later the next week, it felt unnatural to be out in the world doing something as "normal" as buying food for my family. Friends hugged, and it didn't seem odd to have this display of affection in the middle of the produce section.  Aisles were crowded as acquaintances stopped to visit and every hushed conversation I overheard was someone's fire story. Strangers looked at each other silently wondering who had escaped unharmed and who had lost everything.

Signs of gratitude sprouted up around town. First near fire stations, and burned neighborhoods.  And then everywhere.  Freeway overpasses, fenceposts, trees, tractor trailers, chalked car windows, digital billboards and theater marquees all announced our collective gratitude for those that fought so hard to save our city.

And our circle of gratitude expands as the cycle of this fire wears on.  We thank PG&E for working around the clock to restore power as quickly as possible.  Thank you Bureau of Land Management for sending out crews to identify and tag hazardous trees.  Thank you to the National Guard for standing watch outside our evacuated neighborhoods to deter looting.  Thank you CalTrans for long hours repairing guardrails and checking the structural integrity of our bridges. Thank you churches that opened your doors to provide indoor play space when the outdoor air quality was unhealthy.  Thank you FEMA for setting up camp and bringing in national-level relief and support. Thank you restaurants that feed evacuees for free, Costco for allowing nonmembers to shop for necessities, Realtors for coming together to organize rental listings, and Haven Humane for taking in hundreds of lost and evacuated animals, and on and on and on.

It was a spark that started this fire, and from there the flames grew.  It was the firefighters that first fought back, and from there our response will grow. As our community moves out of survival mode, we will all have a part to play.  Cleaners, builders, bakers, teachers, counselors, trash collectors and everyone in-between.  When your cue comes, I invite you to take on your role with gusto. There is no guessing game to see if someone might need your help.  Only a waiting game to see how many.

My kids sorting coins from their piggy bank to share with friends that lost everything.

Everything I Needed to Know, I Learned by Running a 5k.

A few weeks ago, I participated in the Running Brave 5k in Redding, CA.  This sweet little race came just at the right time when I was feeling the itch to get back to pounding the pavement.  I signed up a few months ago, and started training about six weeks ago.  There are people in this world that can just pull a 5k out of their hat with minimal effort.  I'm not one of those people.  I have to work my way up.

I have come to realize that running a race isn't just about beating other people to the finish line.  It's also a pretty rich classroom in the school of life.

A change of scenery can do wonders for your motivation.
The Running Brave route went out across the Sundial Bridge, followed the Arboretum loop, and then came back over the Sundial Bridge for another little loop to the finish.  By the time I finished the Arboretum loop and was heading back across the Sundial Bridge, I was tired.  My legs were beginning to ache.  My breathing was labored.  The fresh, adrenaline-filled feeling of the start had worn off.  I wasn't feeling invincible.  But once I stepped foot on the bridge, the air immediately felt cooler.  The ground beneath my feet went from black asphalt to the smoky, lime-green glass panels of the bridge.  And suddenly I was no longer tempted to walk, but felt like I HAD to run.  Because even though I have walked across that bridge probably 100 times, it was still the crown jewel of this race course.  Same feet.  Same body.  Same race.  New perspective=Renewed motivation.

Sometimes you find your strength in the crowd, sometimes in solitude.
There were only a few hundred runners in this race, so as the course went on the crowd thinned considerably.  We began as a solid pack of runners and slowly stretched out into a smattering of solitary people putting one foot in front of the other.  The crowd at the start is invigorating.  The thrill of the start spurs me forward, usually at a faster pace than I can maintain for the duration of the run. But as the crowd thins, I appreciate the breathing room. The competition is no longer with the runners that surround me, but within myself.  Can I keep up the pace while nobody is looking?  Typically the answer is no...I tend to do better in a crowd.  But it feels good and free and peaceful to run alone, enjoy the scenery and be IN the experience.  There is a perceptible shift from "Who am I going to beat today?" to "How can I enjoy this experience today?"

Winning isn't everything. 
I'm going to guess I've run 30+ races during the past 20 years.  I didn't win any of them. Not a single one.  Never even got within spitting distance of a medal.  But I still do it.  Because it's good exercise, sometimes I get to run with my friends, it pushes me to stay in shape, and I like being able to say I did it.  Sure, it means paying $30 for a route I could easily run for free whenever I want. But there's something uniquely satisfying about crossing the finish line (even if you aren't the fastest).  Particularly when your kids are there to cheer you on at the end!

When you create a play-list on the fly, there are bound to be hiccups. 
I had a few extra minutes before the race started, so I sat down and tried to piece together something creative for my run playlist.  I'm not exactly sure what happened but songs that seemed out of place somehow started playing while I ran.  The list was also too short for the time I was running, so my phone automatically went on to the next playlist, which happened to be Christmas music. So, as I was coming around the corner toward the finish, I had an earful of "Oh Come All Ye Faithful." Next time I will plan better!

Scrapbooks come in all shapes and sizes.  
When I was younger, I was a faithful scrapbooker.  I dutifully printed photos, decorated pages and documented each occasion of life.  That promptly ended with kids.  Now I have a billion photos on my computer, various clouds, and CD's. Maybe I'll get back at it one day, but for now I document my adventures with Facebook posts, and by collecting random things like souvenir smashed pennies and race bibs.  It doesn't fit neatly on the bookshelf, but serves the same purpose.  And it alleviates any guilt I might feel about neglecting the long-lost art of scrapbooking.

#FluWeek2018

This has been my life for the past two weeks.  Tissues for my raging sinuses.  Water bottle and cough drops for my hacking cough.  Heating pad for my sore back. Jockeying with the cat for my fair share of the bed.  Sleeping in the guest room to spare my husband the sniffling and coughing that continue through the night.  Also, not pictured: humidifier, a variety of essential oils, cough syrup, etc, etc, etc.

I'm fairly certain at this point, that if you Google "Hot Mess", my photo will pop up.  I have been one sick, sicky-poo.

And I'm not the only one.  The whole family has been down at some point over the past two weeks.  We take turns being semi-functional so that the kids can still get fed and the trash gets put out on trash day.  I attempted a few hours of work here and there.  Beyond the very basics of existence, we've been pretty much living under a rock.

This would all be sad enough on its own.  But adding insult to injury, just as I was thinking I had kicked this bug in the butt, I relapsed.  I started to feel cruddy the day before we were scheduled to leave on a family vacation to visit our dear friends in Texas.  That night I tossed and turned with clogged sinuses and general yuck.  I tried to convince myself that a 10-hour travel day was doable. And then I imagined the sinus pressure combined with altitude, and the cough combined with dry cabin air, and spending the day trying to hold myself together long enough to get to Texas so I could go to sleep.  Ugh.  Slowly through the night it became clear to me that plane travel wasn't an option. At 5am I had to wake my husband and pull the plug on this trip.  And then at 7am I had to break the news to the kids.

Let's just say there were lots of tears.  And lots of binge-eating of airplane snacks.  And then my eye gooped up and I realized I not only had a sinus infection, but a nice case of pink eye to go with it.

Preparing and purchasing tickets and packing bags for a trip that doesn't happen is about the most heartbreaking start to spring break ever.  And then to be sick and tired and sick and tired of being sick and tired....just generally not a lot of fun to be had.

But, in the midst of chaos and disappointment there are some blessings to be found.

The kids have bounced back and shown a great deal of compassion and sympathy for my sickly self.  In spite of their own disappointment, they rub my back and pray that I will feel better. I have to take this as some kind of assurance that we're raising decent humans.

I've come to appreciate the long stretch of good health that I have enjoyed.  It's been a loooonnnng time since I've been down like this.  I'm not one that does "take it easy" very well. I suppose it was only a matter of time before I was forced to practice.

The cat and I are closer than ever. 

Southwest Airlines has a very forgiving cancellation policy.  So, even though we bailed on this trip at the last minute, we have a good chunk of credit available to make the trip another time.  

Our dear friends in Texas still love us, I think.  We had big plans to rent a house on the Colorado River and enjoy kayaking and BBQ'ing and chatting on the back porch while the kids climbed trees and made memories.  They still went and enjoyed the house, for which I was glad.  And a little sad.  When I asked my friend Tina how it was, she responded as only a true friend would: "It's terrible. You would hate it."

The kids got to enjoy the annual egg hunt at our church, with an unusually low number of participants.  They each came home with approximately 342 candy-filled eggs and big, big smiles.

So, even though #FluWeek2018, actually stretched into #2WeeksOfFluHell, I am thankful to be on the tail end.  With antibiotics working on this sinus mess, and the eye drops slowly reducing the swelling and killing the goop in my eye, and time and rest gradually bringing this cough under control, I'm feeling hopeful that this sickness will come to an end.  Eventually.

This probably won't go down as our happiest Easter ever.  But the promise of Easter shines through, regardless.  First the death, then the waiting, then the rising. Or, as the case may be....first the flu, then the resting then the rising. 

Amen!

Six Things I Will Do.

Fearful.

Helpless.

Hopeless.

Angry.

I think most of America is feeling one or all of these emotions right about now.  When we're faced with the reality of another school shooting, the emotions run high and strong.  We may not all agree on the solution (OK, let's face it.  We vehemently disagree, America.), but surely we all agree that we don't want our kids to live in fear.  We don't want schools to be a place of violence. We are frustrated with our current state of affairs and we're fighting mad.  Or maybe just hopelessly sad.  Either way, not a fun or productive place to be.

Personally, I've been quietly stewing on this topic for a while.  I've dug into the statistics.  Tried to understand patterns. Looked for easy, solutions.  Prayed for guidance and wisdom. Sadly, the magic cure has not presented itself to me.  I have not developed a solution that will end gun violence in America. 

What I have gained is clarity on the fact that this issue is firing me up. And I'm tired of waiting around for the magic bullet that will fix this mess.  I'm tired of feeling overwhelmed by the complexity and volatility of this problem.  I'm tired of not talking about it because we don't want to offend, or it's not the right time, or we'll never agree. It's not working for me.

So, I'd like to share with you what I'm going to do.  Maybe you'll love this list.  Or maybe you'll roll your eyes and be fired up enough to make your own, different list.  Or perhaps you'll take a look and find one nugget of commonality here that you can latch onto. 

Either way, we're all in this together.  Agree or disagree on the solution, I think at this point it's safe to say that we all agree we have a problem.  And it's not something that one person is going to solve.  It's going to take lots of people, lots of tough conversations, some compromise, some money and a hefty splash of creativity.

I'll be quite honest. My first gut instinct, knee-jerk reaction is to just make all guns illegal and be done with it. But, it's not up to me.  And I'm sane enough to realize that this idea is probably not viable nor is it truly a solution.  (So please stop screaming about how it won't work, and keep reading....) As difficult as it is to dig in on a problem that looms so large and clearly above my pay grade, doing nothing is not an option.  I am one person.  One mom.  One wife of a sensible gun owner.  And today I'm rolling up my sleeves and committing to do my part.

1.  I'm going to make sure my elected officials know that I do not support Concealed Carry Reciprocity. This bill would bring all Concealed Carry state laws down to the lowest common denominator.  While California has common sense Concealed Carry regulations that require background checks and training on safety and permissible use of a firearm, many states do not. The bill has passed the House (check your Representative's vote here), but it still needs a win in the Senate and the President's signature.  (Find your Senator's contact info here)

2.  I'm going to talk to my kids about mental health and suicide.  As much as I hate the idea of my 6 and 9-year old children even knowing that suicide exists, I am doing this.  Because, God forbid, if one day they feel a sense of despair so massive that they consider ending their own life, I want them to be able to identify this feeling as an illness.  I want them to know that those thoughts are not normal, their brain is sick and that they can get help. The time for mental health taboo is over.  Brain health is just as important as physical health.  If we can make our kids brush their teeth and visit a doctor for annual checkups, we can extend their preventative care to include mental health as well. Not sure where to start? Here are some pointers.

The primary reason this is on my list is because I read the book, A Mother's Reckoning, written by someone I never imagined taking any lessons from, Sue Klebold.  Sue is the mother of Dylan Klebold, one of the shooters at Columbine High School in 1999.  In my mind, she was a terrible mother that should have known a monster was living in her house.  Until I stopped to read her book and try to understand her story.  Which leads me to my next "to do"....

3. I will try, so very hard, to listen and be curious about the stories of others.  I will try, so very hard,  to not jump to conclusions, place labels that don't belong, or make sweeping assumptions based on one piece of someone's story.  This, my friends, is hard work.  But I think it's time for us to start talking.  Like adults.  And listening.  Like our lives depend on it.  I know I have friends that will give me a big thumbs up on this post.  And I have friends that will squirm.  And some that may be tempted to write me off entirely.  I know, because I'm tempted the same way when someone suggests that we give machine guns to teachers so our kids will be safe at school.  It makes me want to run away as quickly as possible.

I believe this is part of our problem. 

We have lost the ability to listen, learn, debate and talk to each other like civil human beings.  We're stuck behind our screens, tapping out bold messages that are easy to justify with the support of a cute meme or link to a snappy editorial that supports our opinion. But actually sitting down with a cup of coffee to discuss our perspectives?  THAT is not happening.  And THAT is part of the problem.  This is hard work that requires us to be vulnerable.  Creative problem solving requires collaboration.  I will stumble on this one a lot.  But I am committed to keep trying. Because I do believe that somewhere between "guns for all the people in all the places" and "No guns for anybody", lies a workable plan that will decrease the violent use of firearms in the United States.

4.  I will make damn sure the guns in my home are stored in a locked safe.  This is not anything new.  This is how we roll in our house.  But I'm saying it out loud because the presence of guns and the unsafe storage of guns increases the chance accidental shootings and death. Safe gun storage can save lives.  If you find a statistic that proves easy access to guns makes children safer, I'd be interested to see it. Because, see #3.  As horrific as school shootings are, more children are killed by accidental gunfire.  If we're getting fired up about school safety, let's also get fired up about keeping children safe in our homes.

5.  I'm going to support common sense gun reform with my voice and my money. I firmly believe we can create safer communities without abolishing the second amendment.  A background check seems like a reasonable expectation for someone that wants to own a gun.  If you're a domestic abuser or violent criminal, no guns for you. We can do better at preventing accidental shootings.  We should be gathering, studying and openly sharing statistics about gun violence so that our solutions can be rooted in facts and not rhetoric. If you agree with any or all of this, maybe you would like to join up with an organization working for common sense gun reform.

6.  I'm going to pray and think and pray some more.  I believe that our leaders need prayers for wisdom, compassion and strength.  I believe our broken world needs prayers for truth, reconciliation, civility, and hope.  I believe our children need prayers for comfort and safety. I believe that miracles happen and I will boldly pray for peace.

So, that's my plan.  It may not change the world, but then again, perhaps it will. I refuse to sit in fear and do nothing.  I refuse to pretend there are no solutions. I refuse to send my kids to school with a bullet-proof backpack and hope that it's enough.

Ashland + Kids - Shakespeare = Fun.

We're half way through week two of winter break and our natives were restless.  So, we packed up for the night and headed north to one of my favorite getaway places, Ashland, OR.

I lived just outside of Ashland for a few years before I got married, and we return about once a year for one reason or another.  Southern Oregon kind of feels like home.  But as familiar as it all is,  every time I visit I find something new that makes me fall in love with the Ashland area all over again. Typically our visits to Ashland include plays, fine dining, wine tasting, historic bed and breakfast stays, and tax-free shopping.  We've never taken the kids because....well, frankly, none of that is more fun when your kids are around. But it has come to my attention that there are actually things for kids to do in the Ashland area.  So, we gave it a shot and we weren't disappointed.

The highlight of our trip was the non-traditional lodging choice.  I debated long and hard over the $99 room at the chain hotel vs. the "Not even in the neighborhood of $99" stay at a local organic farm.  Cheap or charming?  Affordable or awe-inspiring?  Free breakfast or free-range eggs?  Choices, choices. My husband (the heart-thinker balance to my head-thinker existence) convinced me to go for it, throw caution (and the budget) to the wind and go with the farm stay. 

City slicker at the farm

Friendly mama goat

Willow-Witt Ranch is a beautiful property located about 11 miles east of Ashland.  Actually "up" from Ashland would be a more accurate description....it sort of feels like you're driving to the top of  world.  And once you get there, it is a mountain-top experience.  This place is 400 acres of organic farming, off-grid living, and plain old peace and quiet.  The owners and farm hands love their work and happily answered 101 questions from my kids while tending to their farm chores. We watched them milk the dairy goats, gathered eggs, soaked in the wood-fired hot tub and enjoyed the small patches of snow that persisted through this warm, dry winter. (We are told they are normally blanketed in a few feet of snow this time of year)  The sound of silence was my favorite aspect of our stay.  You truly feel the peace and tranquility of "Gods Country" at Willow-Witt Ranch, and that alone was worth the price of admission for me.  Fresh eggs and my first taste of goat milk were unexpected bonuses.  Even if you don't stay overnight, the ranch is a great destination for a farm tour, a scenic hike, a round of disc golf, or a peaceful picnic.  Don't miss the small farm store that sells a variety of meat and dairy products. 

Classic playground fun!

We were super excited to discover "Kids Kingdom of the North" (a playground similar to the original, wooden Kids Kingdom structure in Redding) at Bear Creek Park in Medford.  This old-school gem has tunnels, winding staircases, a rocket ship (or a castle turret, depending on your interpretation), and plenty of corners for playing hide and seek.  Admittedly, it does also have some of the less popular features, namely wide availability of splinters and no way to really keep eyes on your kids at all times.  But we all enjoyed this bit of nostalgia.  If you want to experience it too, you might want to visit soon, because renovation plans are underway.   

Photo op at the Rogue Creamery

After some park play time, we headed to the Rogue Creamery.  The small shop offers a wide variety of cheese samples (they are famous for Blue Cheese, but there are many other tasty varieties to choose from), and a window into the production area where you can watch them make the cheese.  This fun pit-stop also sells wine and snacks, and offers small tables to sit and enjoy your purchases.  Right next door is a chocolate shop and a wine tasting room, so you could easily stretch this quick stop into an afternoon of culinary treats.

Our plan was to catch the Harry and David factory tour in the afternoon, but upon arrival at the store, we were told the tours were not running during the New Year holiday week.  If your kids like food and/or are intrigued by the How It's Made TV show, I'm guessing this tour would be a hit with them.  Our crew was disappointed to miss it (and a little annoyed that the website didn't provide any holiday schedule information) so we'll have to try it another day. The Country Village store, where the tours begin, was still a decent stop, with all of the Christmas goodies 50% off, wandering employees offering free samples, and some unique produce and foodie items.

After a relaxing evening back at Willow-Witt Ranch, day two started with a visit to the ScienceWorks Museum in Ashland.  I don't know if this is standard among kids, but my kids will generally spend HOURS in any science museum.  ScienceWorks is a small but mighty museum with tons of hands-on activities for kids of all ages.  It took us about two hours to exhaust every last corner of the inside, and then the kids spent some time outside on the "climbing through time" climbing wall and the giant spider web. Definitely a worthwhile stop, especially for those that are members of our local Turtle Bay museum, since your membership card gets you into ScienceWorks for FREE.

Glassblowing at Gathering Glass Studio

Our next stop in Ashland was the Gathering Glass Studio, where they sell incredible, hand-made glass items and offer the opportunity to watch artists at work in the studio. This might not be a great option for younger kids that have a hard time keeping their bodies calm in the midst of a room full of expensive breakables, but our 6 and 9-year old kiddos loved it.  They are typically blowing glass Weds-Sat, but you might want to call ahead to confirm if you really want to observe the artists in action. Just around the corner from the Gathering Glass Studio is the Ashland Food Cooperative, which is a fun place to find locally sourced and organic food items, grab a sandwich and a smoothie, or enjoy some good people-watching.

Even with kids in tow, I couldn't resist a quick stop to the heart of Ashland's shopping district, so we headed to Lithia Plaza to grab lunch and do some speed shopping.  If your kids are patient about browsing unique shops, you can find all kinds of awesome stores in this area. (My personal faves are Paddington Station, Lithia Park Shoes and  Bloomsbury Books.) But if your kids are like mine and have the attention span of a gnat when it comes to shopping, you'll have to plan your route carefully.  We hit the toy store, and made a stop at the Lithia Water Fountain, which spouts mineral-rich "health water" from a nearby spring.  Spoiler alert: It's fizzy water that tastes a bit like rotten eggs.  But you have to try it at least once.  Bonus points if you can convince your kids to taste it.  (-:

We were pleasantly surprised with the easy flow of things to do for kids in Ashland/Medford.  So parents, fear not!  There is fun to be had in Southern Oregon, even for those too young to appreciate Shakespeare under the stars.

FOOTNOTE: Hotel rooms are much more affordable in the winter season (Nov-Jan) when the Oregon Shakespeare Festival goes dark.  Some decent hotel deals can be found in the summer if you stay on the outskirts of town, further away from the theater district. Some restaurants, shops and attractions in Ashland also take a break in the winter, so do some advance research to avoid disappointment.