Sea lions sunning in Seattle
I love Seattle
I had heard there were sea lions around Seattle, but in the 21 years that I’ve lived here, this was the first time I saw them – during a harbor cruise around Elliott Bay.
Pretty City
Seattle has a wealth of beautiful views, but I think my favorite is checking out the skyline from West Seattle.
I’m rather fond of this view, too.
Georgetown Trailer Park Mall
It was the crumbling bricks that first attracted me to the Georgetown neighborhood of Seattle, then the old signs, store fronts, cafes, bars, and the post-industrial, bohemian vibe. I’d driven through before, and promised myself that I would return with my camera when I had more time.
That was a couple years ago.
Last week, as I was driving around with my husband and daughter, looking for something random, and out of the ordinary, my husband suggested we hit Georgetown again.
Eureka.
As I was ooh-ing and aah-ing over the textures and colors of old bricks, facades, and signs, I stumbled backwards into a parking lot. Then, I turned around to discover the Georgetown Trailer Park Mall.
Random.
Out of the ordinary.
My heart swooned.
A caravan of converted trailers, plying assorted wares from handcrafted jewelry and locally produced art, to vintage furs and grandma’s Corning Ware.
I loved the vibe on this bitterly cold and foggy afternoon. I can’t wait to catch the vibe as the weather warms, and the crowds come out to mingle, at ArtAttack, or during a summer happy hour.
What made your heart swoon this week?
Tour de Pink
Cancer didn’t make me stronger; it sapped my strength like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.
You know what made me stronger? Having to make tough decisions and stand by them. Calling bullshit on bullshit. Moving forward despite the fear. Getting up every single day to be a mommy to my little girl, no matter how crappy I felt. Showing up for every treatment, even when I wanted to hide under the covers. Being a part of a support network for other young women with breast cancer.
We don’t get through this alone; we are all so interconnected. There is strength in numbers, in solidarity, in community. We take turns having bad days, and on our better days we lend our strength to others. There is strength in knowing I am not alone. Others have traveled the road before me, and my experience will provide strength to those who come behind me.
There is strength in helping others, in standing up and fighting for a cause. There is strength in giving back, and paying it forward. There is strength in understanding, and being understood. And there is a great deal of strength in our collective knowledge of how to survive and thrive despite this nasty and devastating disease.
This is why I am so passionately supportive of my support network for young women with breast cancer, the Young Survival Coalition.
A week ago, YSC Seattle held it’s annual fundraising event. Instead of the usual party and auction, this year we held an athletic event. Tour de Pink indoor was our first cycling fundraiser, and it had a completely different kind of energy than the party. We packed the room with spin cycles, great music, and awesome people. Perhaps it wasn’t the same fun as partying, but there was collective energy of focus and determination that was quite different from what happens on the dance floor.
Energy builds on energy, focus encourages focus, and it’s hard to give up in a room packed with that much determination.
We raised $11,000.
Up next is a bigger, outdoor ride. Tour de Pink West Coast is a 200 mile ride from Thousand Oaks to Foothill Ranch, CA, to benefit YSC across the nation, and it’s less than two weeks away. I won’t be riding along, but I will be with them in spirit, you can, too.
A sudden gradual change of seasons
Autumn always sneaks up on me.
Back to school sales start when the temps are still in the 90s. The thought of wearing leather, or wool, or flannel is laughable. The sun sets a little earlier, but not so early as to impact my day. And the trees might start to take on a little more color, but I’m never really sure whether it’s because fall is coming, or that we just went six weeks without rain.
*Seattlites don’t really want outsiders to know that it rarely rains here in August and September, so shhhh…. let’s just keep this between us.
We live on a little lake, populated by ducks year round. Theses ducks are a part of our landscape, any time of year. In the spring, they’re accompanied by ducklings, following their mama around the lake, until one day I notice that mama duck is accompanied by smaller ducks. By the time fall comes around, I can no longer distinguish the parents from their offspring.
The trees around the lake are just starting to show a hint of red and gold. The color change happens gradually, but I never experience it that way. One morning, in the not too distant future, I will look out over a brightly colored landscape and wonder when this transformation occurred.
It happens this way every year.
Just as every few months I look at my daughter and wonder when did she get so big, but she was maturing right under my nose all along.
