The many faces of Hannah Rochelle . . .

Right now Hannah is out on the town with some friends of hers. I had been calling her every half hour, and then she told me it was getting embarrassing, so I've limited myself to every forty-five minutes . . . that works much better for us.

At the same time, I am listening to Cole and Brent discuss the "Oblivion" video game they are playing as if they are discussing a real society . . . it's quite a comical conversation to be eaves dropping on. They are dead serious. Every once in awhile Cole will pause during play and say, "look at this mom." He points out a particularly beautiful country side and I am pleased that Cole knows I would like it. But the video game playing -- agh, it can get so out of control.

One child is out and two are glued to the video game . . . summer slowly draws itself out to the point of feeling quite finished with it.

This woman is made of steel.

This woman is tired.

This weekend I was at mountain bike race in Downieville with a friend of mine. Neither of us participated in the race, we were just there to check out the activities and to see if we wanted to sign up next year, we do. It is a beautiful course and it is really too frustrating to be around a race unless you, or someone you are helping out, is in the race.

At one point I was sitting on the ground next to a woman while we were waiting for the awards ceremony to begin. Someone nearby mentioned they were tired and I chimed in, me too. The woman asked me if I had raced that day and I said no, I really had no reason to be tired (other than flying to LA for two days of training for work while still managing the house and family, coming home to out-of-town visitors, and then taking off the next day to Downieville.) I asked her if she had raced and she said she had and when asked how it went, she said it was tough.

A few minutes after the awards ceremony began, this woman sitting next to me, who I complained to that I was tired, got up and went to the stage to accept her second place medal for the women's Pro Division with a stunning time.
Uhhh, congratualtions, is what I said to her when she sat back down next to me on the ground.
I am not made out of steel. I am tired.

Back In The Saddle

With the smoke finally abating from all these Ca. fires (knock on wood, or better yet, some other non-flammable surface), we've finally been able to hop back on our bikes, at least for now . . . and it is glorious to ride again.  Being grounded because of poor air quality created such a yearning I felt as if I were going to burst out of my skin.  It's not good for a person who weights challenging outdoor activities as an important part of life to have that taken away.

My sister Rochelle and I decided since it is in style to label every kind of imbalance (or perceived imbalance) with an acronymable label, we came up with SDD -- Smoke Depression Disorder. "How's your SDD going?" we may be heard to say.

I am happy to report that after a fantastic evening ride tonight -- no SDD resides here.

Photo by Hannah