I often wonder what my kids will think about or remember about the area they grew up in. For now, and we expect for at least the next five years, we have no plans to leave the area.
When I was their age I lived in Casper, Wyoming. I was born in Casper, Wyoming and lived there until I was about 13. I loved Wyoming and truth be told, I still think back fondly on Wyoming and find it interesting that it is now becoming a destination. I loved the mountains, the open plains, the antelope and deer everywhere, the quiet, the ease to get away to places like Thermopolis, Jackson Hole, Sheridan and Cody and Yellowstone National Park.
Wyoming shaped me as being an outdoor, nature loving person. Our vacations as a kid were usually to outdoor destinations like camping at Alcova and Pathfinder with occasional shopping and zoo trips down to Denver – a long 6 hour car ride and my sister would usually puke on the car ride there. I was on cross country skis doing treks with my parents at age five and was finally allowed to downhill ski at Hogadon when I was 12. We fished and my dad hunted on occasion. I lived about 2 miles from my grandmother’s house where I spent a lot of time with her and Pa, we went to the fair and rodeo every summer. I played t-ball and hung out at my local YMCA where my mom worked when I was about 10.
We floated the North Platte in canoes and for fun played “whack a mole” with the paddles and the giant carp in the shallow sections, we caught frogs while on breaks to have lunch on the bank and grasshoppers to use while fishing. My dad once tipped the canoe with my mom, sister and I in it… my mom used to accuse him of not paddling as she paddled in the front and this time it was true – he had my sister standing up so he could retrieve a beer from the cooler she was sitting on when suddenly we were all dumped into the water.
I lived here until I was about 12.
I mourned Wyoming when we left for Colorado when I was 13.
Colorado was a different place. Something you notice when you cross the border from Wyoming to Colorado is the sudden green out the window. A transition from brown dusty plains to green fields. In Colorado my life was different. I didn’t ski so much because the drive to ski areas was long, and my mom and stepdad did not downhill ski. We spent a lot of time outside within the city of Fort Collins, which was a fabulous place to grow up.
Fort Collins, when I was there had the largest number of restaurants and breweries per capita. I passed my driver’s test there (after three attempts) and ran around town in my little 1979 Mazda RX-7. I remember saying I would never leave Colorado. When I did leave everyone expected I would come back, but Colorado hasn’t been my home in 14 years. I have found since leaving that when I tell people I grew up in Colorado many people tend to ask, “why would you leave?” or they tell me they are jealous, or the like. But things happen and life leads us down paths we don’t expect and it was my career that brought us to SE Washington state.
My region now is actually a lot like Casper geographically. Brown, dry and windy. I have noticed that since leaving life at altitude that my rice turns out well and my cakes rise differently. My kids know this area as home and it is rare that we go somewhere in town and don’t run into someone we know. While I wouldn’t say we love it here, we are awfully fond of it.
I think both AB and I get cases of wanderlust pretty regularly because we continue to bring up the topic of whether we will stay or leave between the two of us. Obviously we aren’t diehard Tri-Citians who never want to leave. We do enjoy our community and feel that we are a part of it and have things to offer back to our community. I hope that our children grow up and leave the region for college – my hope is that they will follow in AB’s and my, their Uncle Scott, Aunt Angie and Grandpa John’s footsteps and will attend the University of Colorado at Boulder. And then I hope that they will see the world at their toes with opportunities abound.
Of course I say this as a mom of a 5.5 and nearly 3 year old where the prospect of them striking out to discover the world on their own is more than a decade away. That’s forever!
AB and I are lucky that we can pretty effectively combat our boredom with the area and our wanderlust needs with weekend getaways. Weekend trips to Seattle satisfy (for now) our shopping, dining and culture needs (whereby we can usually expect Skadi to puke on the car ride, just like my sister only now I have a lot more compassion as her mommy). We are trying to make more habits out of getting to the mountains on the weekends and possibly justify a mountain land purchase in the next year or two with plans to build a cabin eventually. And we have identified our favorite family getaway. Then there are our trips to Colorado and Alaska fairly regularly that usually pre-empt any “big vacations”. But like I said before, we emanate from destination cities, so going to our roots for vacations isn’t always a bad deal.
I wonder what my children will look back remembering as they grow up in Southeast Washington? What do you remember about where you grew up?
Showing posts with label Colorado. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Colorado. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Wear sunscreen!
I am home today and hoping to get a few things done around the house. However, I seem to have a throbbing headache to go along with the nose that feels like someone socked me good.
I went in yesterday to have minor out patient surgery on my nose. From 1991 to 1996 I worked in skin cancer surgery. One in four people get skin cancers and so I figured that given my fair skin and eyes, the fact that I grew up at altitude and the many, many sunburns I have had over my life TRYING to get a suntan. I would be there someday also.
Most of the surgeries we did were on retired people. We had the oddball ones in there - the young, gorgeous model redhead who was 38. The black man with a horribly invasive and misdiagnosed cancer (because skin cancer in African Americans is extremely rare). One uber-famous marathon runner in his early 40's. May, the 90-some year old with large cancers who was probably a case of elder-neglect/abuse. And then my favorite people too - like the elderly guy named Bob who had so many cancers that we used to see him every other month. Despite the fact that we could rarely "clear" the margins on his cancer because we would just run into another, he still was in great humor and would sit in my lab and chat and tell jokes.
I knew one day I too would be in having surgery for skin cancer, but didn't quite expect it to be in my late 30's and that my first would be a squamous cell carcinoma (in the world of skin cancer, the step up from the most common one and the step below a melanoma).
I wasn't terribly surprised to get the diagnosis of the spot on my nose and they quickly got me in for Mohs surgery, to track the edges of the cancer.
Worried? Not terribly. I knew exactly what they were going to do. I knew exactly what was on my nose. And in the larger scheme of things there are people I am close to dealing with a whole hell of a lot more than a bitty skin cancer caught early (since I knew what I am looking for).
AB went in with my yesterday as I sat on the other end of the knife than I was used to over a decade ago. (And the job that I still to this day dream about.)
Honestly I was less than impressed with this doctor mostly because I was used to my old doc I worked for who had a great bedside manner, was friendly, shook hands like a man (thanks to my dad and now my husband I have a severe aversion to wimpy handshakes).
I hadn't met him prior to the point of sitting under his knife. I told him that I was well versed in the surgery after having spent five years working in this surgery in the 90's. We compared notes a little, I was shocked to hear that he does 10-12 cases a day (we did 3-4) and the size of his lab. But he is also the only one for miles that does the surgery. Everything now was fitting in as to why I never saw him prior. He doesn't see any other patients, all his nurse practitioners do.
Then he offered me a job.
I laughed and politely declined citing the fact that I have a great job at The Lab and a graduate degree (i.e., nearly as much education as he does).
He proceeded to remove the offending spot off my nose. Then he stopped and talked to AB about doing laser surgery on his port wine stain - to which AB politely declined (a few times). Then he walked it to the lab.
And that was the last I saw of him. I sat for the next 2 hours in the waiting room with retired old men and their wives.
His nurse came out a half hour later to tell me it was clear and then they set me up for a closure, which I was stunned to find out was performed by a nurse practitioner. I asked a lot of questions about this and AB seemed skeptical, but we went ahead.
It needed stitches. And my thought was that I knew in my mind what Dr. S would have done and if her plan deviated much, then I would be raising a stink. She did exactly what my Dr. S would have done with the thousands of spots I had seen similar to mine. Loosened up the tissue underneath (hated that part), pulled it together with 3-4 dissolving sutures underneath and 6-8 fine sutures on top while flattening the edges so that I have a line down the side of my nose.
Yesterday I felt as though I had been socked in the nose. Today it just aches a little. Tomorrow I will work.
I went in yesterday to have minor out patient surgery on my nose. From 1991 to 1996 I worked in skin cancer surgery. One in four people get skin cancers and so I figured that given my fair skin and eyes, the fact that I grew up at altitude and the many, many sunburns I have had over my life TRYING to get a suntan. I would be there someday also.
Most of the surgeries we did were on retired people. We had the oddball ones in there - the young, gorgeous model redhead who was 38. The black man with a horribly invasive and misdiagnosed cancer (because skin cancer in African Americans is extremely rare). One uber-famous marathon runner in his early 40's. May, the 90-some year old with large cancers who was probably a case of elder-neglect/abuse. And then my favorite people too - like the elderly guy named Bob who had so many cancers that we used to see him every other month. Despite the fact that we could rarely "clear" the margins on his cancer because we would just run into another, he still was in great humor and would sit in my lab and chat and tell jokes.
I knew one day I too would be in having surgery for skin cancer, but didn't quite expect it to be in my late 30's and that my first would be a squamous cell carcinoma (in the world of skin cancer, the step up from the most common one and the step below a melanoma).
I wasn't terribly surprised to get the diagnosis of the spot on my nose and they quickly got me in for Mohs surgery, to track the edges of the cancer.
Worried? Not terribly. I knew exactly what they were going to do. I knew exactly what was on my nose. And in the larger scheme of things there are people I am close to dealing with a whole hell of a lot more than a bitty skin cancer caught early (since I knew what I am looking for).
AB went in with my yesterday as I sat on the other end of the knife than I was used to over a decade ago. (And the job that I still to this day dream about.)
Honestly I was less than impressed with this doctor mostly because I was used to my old doc I worked for who had a great bedside manner, was friendly, shook hands like a man (thanks to my dad and now my husband I have a severe aversion to wimpy handshakes).
I hadn't met him prior to the point of sitting under his knife. I told him that I was well versed in the surgery after having spent five years working in this surgery in the 90's. We compared notes a little, I was shocked to hear that he does 10-12 cases a day (we did 3-4) and the size of his lab. But he is also the only one for miles that does the surgery. Everything now was fitting in as to why I never saw him prior. He doesn't see any other patients, all his nurse practitioners do.
Then he offered me a job.
I laughed and politely declined citing the fact that I have a great job at The Lab and a graduate degree (i.e., nearly as much education as he does).
He proceeded to remove the offending spot off my nose. Then he stopped and talked to AB about doing laser surgery on his port wine stain - to which AB politely declined (a few times). Then he walked it to the lab.
And that was the last I saw of him. I sat for the next 2 hours in the waiting room with retired old men and their wives.
His nurse came out a half hour later to tell me it was clear and then they set me up for a closure, which I was stunned to find out was performed by a nurse practitioner. I asked a lot of questions about this and AB seemed skeptical, but we went ahead.
It needed stitches. And my thought was that I knew in my mind what Dr. S would have done and if her plan deviated much, then I would be raising a stink. She did exactly what my Dr. S would have done with the thousands of spots I had seen similar to mine. Loosened up the tissue underneath (hated that part), pulled it together with 3-4 dissolving sutures underneath and 6-8 fine sutures on top while flattening the edges so that I have a line down the side of my nose.
Yesterday I felt as though I had been socked in the nose. Today it just aches a little. Tomorrow I will work.
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
So much for my big surprise
I had the perfect surprise for my husband all planned out.
You see 15 years ago our first forays "out" as more than lab partners (i.e., friends) were to CU football games. AB wouldn't date me because he thought it bad to mix romance and forced working together (we were chemistry lab partners). I persisted though and finally wore him down.
Anyways, we are going to Colorado over Thanksgiving this year and it dawned on me that CU ALWAYS plays Nebraska the day after Thanksgiving. Ok, I have to qualify *ALWAYS*. The games used to always be the weekend of Halloween. Which equated to - Boulder - Halloween - an influx of red - buffaloes - rivalry - mall crawl era - well it was just more than the city could really tolerate. The game was then moved to Thanksgiving - the time of semester when a good portion of students would be out of town.
I went to my first Colorado versus Nebraska team with AB. I decided to surprise him and buy tickets for the game and arrange for some unsuspecting relative (i.e., my mom) to take care of the kids while AB and I ran off to Boulder and had a trip down memory lane rooting on the Buffs.
I went to go buy tickets.
I could NOT find the link to buy for that game. Where is it? Can you not buy tickets yet?
Finally I doublechecked the schedule and realized I had missed one little detail - "at Lincoln".
So much for my great big surprise.
Sorry honey. I tried!
You see 15 years ago our first forays "out" as more than lab partners (i.e., friends) were to CU football games. AB wouldn't date me because he thought it bad to mix romance and forced working together (we were chemistry lab partners). I persisted though and finally wore him down.
Anyways, we are going to Colorado over Thanksgiving this year and it dawned on me that CU ALWAYS plays Nebraska the day after Thanksgiving. Ok, I have to qualify *ALWAYS*. The games used to always be the weekend of Halloween. Which equated to - Boulder - Halloween - an influx of red - buffaloes - rivalry - mall crawl era - well it was just more than the city could really tolerate. The game was then moved to Thanksgiving - the time of semester when a good portion of students would be out of town.
I went to my first Colorado versus Nebraska team with AB. I decided to surprise him and buy tickets for the game and arrange for some unsuspecting relative (i.e., my mom) to take care of the kids while AB and I ran off to Boulder and had a trip down memory lane rooting on the Buffs.
I went to go buy tickets.
I could NOT find the link to buy for that game. Where is it? Can you not buy tickets yet?
Finally I doublechecked the schedule and realized I had missed one little detail - "at Lincoln".
So much for my great big surprise.
Sorry honey. I tried!
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Monday, July 14, 2008
Disconnected
Slowly I am reconnecting. I expect by this weekend I should be completely plugged back in.
AB and I finished watching The Alaska Experiment that we had Tivo'd the other night. A Discovery channel series where four groups of people were dropped off in different locales with the "bare minimum" of supplies and had to survive for three months. (AB - being somewhat of a survival buff - is sure they would never take us, he keeps telling me this... though I think he is more telling himself this.) We finally finished the series and watched the reunion show the other night. Our favorite group of people, Jeff and Elizabeth, talked about how "disconnected" they felt upon returning to society and to their jobs after three months of interacting basically only with each other and the wild.
Disconnected.
The word resonated with me. Though I only spent about 9 days on vacation and it wasn't as secluded in Alaska and I most certainly had "cabin fever" brought on by too many people in a small place as opposed to traditional cabin fever, "disconnected" still struck me as the word I have been looking for to describe my return from our vacation. I got back from Alaska and felt a strange sense of loneliness, a touch despondent I think, as well as quiet and contemplative.
The day after we got back I couldn't even bring me to check my personal e-mail. I wanted to just hole up with my family and not go anywhere. Absorb myself in them and in our home. Relish OUR quiet home.
I immediately got back and absorbed myself in the details of my work. Often ignoring personal e-mails that didn't require immediate attention. I even reconnected with a friend of mine from high school, one of my closest friends during that time, and couldn't even bring myself to e-mail him back. I still haven't. All week I felt quiet, but couldn't really pinpoint it.
I am not a depressed person, never have been. And actually I tend to be quite even-keeled, if anything, not enough highs and lows to my personality according to my personality style.
It was probably one of my most productive weeks actually. I had little desire to interact with people and pretty much just plowed through work. A few times I felt as though I should apologize to people for being a huge grump. Because I did feel like a huge grump.
I am still feeling a touch disconnected, but I think I am starting to pinpoint the root cause.
I love Alaska. I really, really do. AB loves Alaska.
And sometimes, just sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to live there.
I am curious what will happen when we go to Colorado in November?
Are we really just being hit over the heads with a big sign?
AB and I finished watching The Alaska Experiment that we had Tivo'd the other night. A Discovery channel series where four groups of people were dropped off in different locales with the "bare minimum" of supplies and had to survive for three months. (AB - being somewhat of a survival buff - is sure they would never take us, he keeps telling me this... though I think he is more telling himself this.) We finally finished the series and watched the reunion show the other night. Our favorite group of people, Jeff and Elizabeth, talked about how "disconnected" they felt upon returning to society and to their jobs after three months of interacting basically only with each other and the wild.
Disconnected.
The word resonated with me. Though I only spent about 9 days on vacation and it wasn't as secluded in Alaska and I most certainly had "cabin fever" brought on by too many people in a small place as opposed to traditional cabin fever, "disconnected" still struck me as the word I have been looking for to describe my return from our vacation. I got back from Alaska and felt a strange sense of loneliness, a touch despondent I think, as well as quiet and contemplative.
The day after we got back I couldn't even bring me to check my personal e-mail. I wanted to just hole up with my family and not go anywhere. Absorb myself in them and in our home. Relish OUR quiet home.
I immediately got back and absorbed myself in the details of my work. Often ignoring personal e-mails that didn't require immediate attention. I even reconnected with a friend of mine from high school, one of my closest friends during that time, and couldn't even bring myself to e-mail him back. I still haven't. All week I felt quiet, but couldn't really pinpoint it.
I am not a depressed person, never have been. And actually I tend to be quite even-keeled, if anything, not enough highs and lows to my personality according to my personality style.
It was probably one of my most productive weeks actually. I had little desire to interact with people and pretty much just plowed through work. A few times I felt as though I should apologize to people for being a huge grump. Because I did feel like a huge grump.
I am still feeling a touch disconnected, but I think I am starting to pinpoint the root cause.
I love Alaska. I really, really do. AB loves Alaska.
And sometimes, just sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to live there.
I am curious what will happen when we go to Colorado in November?
Are we really just being hit over the heads with a big sign?
Friday, June 13, 2008
I'm going on a trip...
(Those of you with kids Leif's age can now continue singing the Little Einsteins theme song.)
Done now?
I am going on a trip where Little Einsteins don't exist!
For a whole weekend in August!
The girl's weekend to Steamboat Springs is officially booked.
I kept finding good airfare for departing on Friday and returning Monday. But that would require first that my husband take time off Monday morning to get the kids into daycare/preschool. It would require my host to take an extra day off to get me to the airport (yes, I could take a bus or taxi I am sure if she had to work). But the biggy was it would be three nights away from my kids.
Wasn't sure I could do this. Two nights I can do. AB can do - he can suffer two sleepless nights on a weekend IF it went that way. Which it won't. Both kids will go to bed on time and sleep through the night. But three nights was going to be tough.
I did my every couple days or so check of airfare and yesterday the flight back on Sunday had dropped to the acceptable range. I took a slightly ($23) more expensive flight back on Sunday though just so I didn't have to leave at 8am. I will fly out of here Friday at the crack of dawn and arrive in Steamboat at about 1pm where VargasGirl will fetch me at the airport. Then I fly home on Sunday and should walk in the door just in time to rescue my husband and let him cook a wonderful dinner to welcome me home.
Shopping... spa time... Strawberry Park Hot Springs (which should not be discussed with my husband lest insane jealousy set in)... the mountains... wine with the girls...
Should rejuvenate me.
And I will not complain at all about being abandoned with the kids in Alaska in favor of golf outtings and fishing charters!
Done now?
I am going on a trip where Little Einsteins don't exist!
For a whole weekend in August!
The girl's weekend to Steamboat Springs is officially booked.
I kept finding good airfare for departing on Friday and returning Monday. But that would require first that my husband take time off Monday morning to get the kids into daycare/preschool. It would require my host to take an extra day off to get me to the airport (yes, I could take a bus or taxi I am sure if she had to work). But the biggy was it would be three nights away from my kids.
Wasn't sure I could do this. Two nights I can do. AB can do - he can suffer two sleepless nights on a weekend IF it went that way. Which it won't. Both kids will go to bed on time and sleep through the night. But three nights was going to be tough.
I did my every couple days or so check of airfare and yesterday the flight back on Sunday had dropped to the acceptable range. I took a slightly ($23) more expensive flight back on Sunday though just so I didn't have to leave at 8am. I will fly out of here Friday at the crack of dawn and arrive in Steamboat at about 1pm where VargasGirl will fetch me at the airport. Then I fly home on Sunday and should walk in the door just in time to rescue my husband and let him cook a wonderful dinner to welcome me home.
Shopping... spa time... Strawberry Park Hot Springs (which should not be discussed with my husband lest insane jealousy set in)... the mountains... wine with the girls...
Should rejuvenate me.
And I will not complain at all about being abandoned with the kids in Alaska in favor of golf outtings and fishing charters!
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