Change of Seasons

Hey! 

Happy Wednesday!

After the last post, it turned to winter. I was even out with the snowblower! I mean. It's really winter. The snow is building, and it doesn't look like we'll get a break. You can check the weather for 49918. It's either below 32 degrees F or snowing. Or both.

Ha!

So that's my hypothesis!

I'll let you know if we get one more burst of summer. Hahaha!

With winter here, I realized that somebody doesn't really like to run to school in the cold with his boots and snow pants on.

You guessed it.

Today I had to tell him to stay on the side of the road (half a block away), so I could run home and pick him up in the van. He just wouldn't go anymore!

What a stinker.

Oh well. Things could be worse.

And though he won't run in the winter,  I have to give him credit for running in the rain. Like a banshee!

It's pretty quiet up here otherwise. I think most people enjoy that for now. I sure have plenty to keep me busy, and I'm grateful! It's all good things -- even some great ones!

Before I close, I would like to take a moment to honor the late Sharon Smith. She passed earlier this month in her home. We used to be neighbors on the road to the lighthouse, and she was a fellow blogger. The longest standing blogger in da Harbor!

People would check her site A View from the Field, as it had the famous "almost live" webcam looking west across the harbor. She had other helpful Keweenaw links, photography and even her daily journal.

If you read the last couple journal posts, you may notice that it was becoming her time. Even her cat, Grayson, seemed to know.

May your soul rest in peace, Sharon. Now you have a different view from the field. We know your heart is here.

He Runs

So, not only do we have a hiker... we have a runner.

Oh boy!

Not my forté.

I might go for a jog sometimes for a quick workout, but I don't go too far and I certainly don't go fast. I never claimed to be a runner.

But Brady P is!

"Mummy, let's ruuuuuun!" he announces pretty much everywhere we go. Especially to school. 

Each morning.

Even when the weather is cold, windy and rainy, he wants to run to school. He absolutely refuses a ride. Even when the mornings looked like night time!

I just make sure to bring the extra layers he refuses before we leave... cuz he asks for them halfway through.

"Ah!" he shouts, covering his face with his mittens. "Mummy, I need my scarf!"

Luckily it's in my pocket.

He also likes to run on our walks around town now. Sometimes I'll appease, but these old knees don't appreciate bouncing down the pavement.

He gets upset when I don't run.

"Mummy, RUN!"

"I don't want to run right now, Dove."

"Yes, run! Please! Come on!" and he gets a little whiny. I try to encourage him by running with him most times, but, man, running just is not fun!

And this next part is embarrassing.

I think he can outrun me.

He bolts much faster than I jog, so I have to actually run, which I don't do for long distances. Ever.

I'm a sprinter. For a minute. Or to get away if something is chasing me, you know?

But he runs. Runs, runs and runs.

I know. This seems so redundant.

That is how our life is with this running thing. He just goes!

Although I'd rather hike or take him on a bike ride, I am really proud of his new sport.

He is a young man who is much smaller than most kids his age. But he runs.

He was born with two valves in his heart instead of four. He had heart surgery at four-months out of the womb to correct that. Each year I get a survey from the hospital, and one section asks about his ability to sustain physical activity. To me, that says that people who had open heart surgery might have a hard time sustaining a brisk forward projection.

But not Braeden.

He runs.

He can run! With longevity! He tires me out!

I can't believe it. But I'm so grateful.

I think I might have to start biking along side him instead, though. He's only going to get bigger and stronger.

I wouldn't be surprised if he ran a marathon someday. He never ceases to amaze me.

Don't let him catch you!

Splashers and Woofers

Even though we had a teaser of spring, it is still winter.  The fresh few inches of still falling snow just keep proving it.  But hey, it's the Keweenaw.  What do we expect?

Braeden and I expect to make the best of it.  Today is the first day I had to bundle him in his one-piece snow suit since he's been back from Wisconsin.  Otherwise he had the freedom of his lined nylon pants and jacket.  Room to run, run, run!

And run he did.

On Friday he ran and pushed his wagon almost the whole way from the Lake Fanny Hooe boat launch back into town.  At one point we stopped to listen to a wood pecker in a tree, and I realized he was panting.  Really panting like he was working hard.

For a child who had open-heart surgery three years ago, the panting, rosy cheeks and energy to sustain his pace was a miracle to me.  He is doing awesome!

He has also been running along the road to get to the creek in my love's neck of the woods.  We'll run to the creek, then find a nice spot to watch the sunset.  Sweet Bryce will stomp off chunks of snow to throw and sploosh into one of the few spots of open water on Lake Superior's shore (from the running creek).  I make dramatic splooshing sounds, and Braeden throws his arms around like a splashing wild man.

"More." 

"More," he signs after each snowy boulder splashes and busts apart in the shallow water.  Bryce stomps off another edge of the banks.

I admire him as he exerts all that energy to stomp boulders of snow for Braeden's entertainment -- the bigger the better in Brady P's eyes.  Then he climbs up the snow mound and lifts a dripping snow chunk over his head.

"Are you ready, Braeden?" he asks.  

Braeden smacks his head for a yes while his mouth opens in extreme excitement at the size of the next chunk.  I am amazed myself.

"Kasploosha kapew kapew bawoowoowoosh!" I shout as the splashing commences.

Braeden flails in delight.  And signs more.

Mama and Brady P. watching a sploosher

Bryce even took our picture during a sploosher.  Pretty nice view for splashing in the creek!

On Saturday, the Copper Dog came to our town.  The block was nuts.  It was like Fourth of July in Winter.  My body went slightly into panic mode as I saw all the people moving about.  

But Braeden didn't seem to notice.  He just held my hand, looked straight down at the icy slush his feet were stomping through and marched straight ahead.  He only looked up to point when he heard a dog barking.

After a walk through the crowd (and his nap) we came back to try the dogsled ride.  One of the mushers ran his six-dog team that afternoon in the midst of three days of racing 150 miles to let 50 kids take a ride, two at a time.  Bless his heart.

Braeden didn't want to go.  

I asked him two dozen times.  "Do you want to ride with the puppies?" 

He shook his head no each time.  So we waited in a nearby bank, so he could at least watch the dogs and be next to them.

Rosy cheeks waiting for the doggies

The dog team is in the upper right corner under the cedar trees.  But this was the only picture where Braeden was smiling, so I used it!

Sooner than I thought, it was his turn to ride with his friend Maddie from school.  He kicked and screamed.

"He can go with you next round, Mom," the helper told me. I was relieved -- for B and Maddie.

At our turn, I plopped down and set him on my lap, half expecting him to cry and flail.  But the dogs started running right away, and he had no time to figure out how he felt about the situation.  He was instantly excited to be moving and see the puppies running ahead of us.

He pointed and squealed in delight the whole way.  We had a great ride around the park.  Whew!  And another new experience under his belt.