Sometimes extraordinary things happen in life that just need to be shared. This is one of them.
Back in the Summer of 2010…
8 years ago today my sister got married!
Roadtrip Hotlanta: The Conclusion!
UPDATE: I AM HOME FROM MY ROAD TRIP!!!
Yes, I do realize it’s February 2016 and my trip ended last year. But I didn’t want you to think I’d forgotten about you. I really tried to blog from the road, but after 2 nights pecking posts onto my iPhone, exhausted from driving and my wonky ear, I said FORGET THIS. Road trips are supposed to be fun! So please just sit back, pretend it’s 3 months ago, and enjoy the ride.
Friday we got another foot of snow. Yeah, I thought spring was on its way too, but HAHAHHAHAHAHHHH!! We live in Maine. So yesterday (Saturday) we decided to put all this white stuff to good use. Via SNOW TUBING. We drove to Seacoast Snow Park in Windham. Only 25 minutes yet a world of fun away!
Here we are at the bottom of the hill. When we first started we were feeling perky and WAY EXCITED! So we hoofed it up the hill. I overheard a family walking alongside us saying it was GOOD to walk, that we were all doing it the old fashioned way. (Old fashioned = code language for WORK OUT)
Here we are at the top. I cannot tell you how much FUN!! it was cascading down. Snow spraying hitting your face, the wind in your hair. I felt positively giddy. As you can see, there’s not a huge wait for a lane. This is b/c there are 12 lanes to choose from. And snow tubing sessions are divided into 2-hour blocks. Only *so many* tubes are sold per session, so things keep moving. Single riders can go in any of the 12 lanes, but if you want to link your tube up with other riders, you have to choose the proper lane: 2 riders, up to 6 riders, or more.
The four of us hoofed it up the hill once and rode down. Then we hoofed it up again and went down again. After this we were TIRED. The hill’s not that high but it ain’t that short either. So we decided it was time to be carried. That’s right; CARRIED! Not on the backs of sherpas but via conveyor belt or rope tow! The conveyor belt works just like you’d imagine. You step onto it and stand with your tube as it whisks you up the hill.
We didn’t use the conveyor belt method. Mostly b/c all the double tubes had to be carried that way and the wait was much longer. As we were all using single tubes, we opted for the rope tow. The rope tow line was fairly short and the method more appealing. You sit in your tube and relax. A handle connected to your tube is looped onto a metal claw attached to the rope. You and your tube are yanked up the hill to the top, where at a specified location you toss yourself off your tube and proceed a few steps to collect your ride.
Here we are waiting at the bottom of the hill in the rope tow line. You can see the mechanism to the left, pulling the happy tubers up to the top. The wait was short and while waiting we listened to music over the loudspeakers. They were playing “The Q” – the Top 40 radio station here in Portland. Very toe tapping / booty shaking music, sure to put you in a good tubing mood. My younger daughter is a BIG Q fan – but that’s for another post altogether..
Me & “Greenie”
Here we are back at the top, waiting in line for Lane 1. Lane 1 is the best lane – single riders only – it’s curvy and has a mogul in one spot. Worth the short wait.
After this I couldn’t take anymore pics b/c my iPhone camera stopped working. Personally, I think it got jealous of the fun we were having and decided to stick it to me. So I didn’t get any shots on the rope tow, or while tubing down any of the lanes. But that’s probably for the best. We went a total of 9 times in our 2 hour session, mostly linked together in a big mass of four tubes. The added weight only served to increase our speed, velocity & fun — so together we FLEWWWW down the hill, Whoopping & hollering and having a BLAST!! I’m glad I couldn’t take photos — for once I simply sat back and enjoyed the ride. 🙂
My dog Max died two weeks ago. Although his legs had begun to fail, he was otherwise in good health and spirits, and his passing was wholly unexpected. We’d taken a long walk the day before and he’d been so full of joy! Rushing ahead, leading the charge, till finally he was so spent he’d practically collapsed. He woke us early the next morning, about 3:30 am, crashing around downstairs. My husband rose to let him out, thinking he had to go to the bathroom. Max went out into the yard and laid down in the grass. He wouldn’t get up, even after John called him several times. His breathing was labored, his tongue hung to one side and his lips felt cold. Something was seriously wrong.
John came and got me, and together we went outside and rolled Max onto a blanket and carried his heavy (150 lb.) frame inside. We placed him gently on the rug, then fetched blankets and pillows for ourselves. We laid, side by side, as if on a camping trip. Petting him, speaking to him, sensing – somehow – that this was the end. Just shy of 4:30 his breathing became almost imperceptible, punctuated only by a few deep gasps. He didn’t seem to be in any pain. John woke the girls in time for them to say goodbye. And then Max was gone.
His swift departure has left a hole in the heart of my family. Max lived with us his entire life, from 7 weeks to almost 10 years. He grew up side by side with our daughters, and neither can remember life without him.
We miss him terribly. But even in death Max remains a steadfast presence in our lives. I see him when I walk the woods, I feel him beside me at the beach. Each morning as I rise, I meet him in the hallway where we parted, and every meal I fail to finish I take out to his yard. 2 weeks ago, Max died, and we buried him under the apple tree. And next year, when flowers bloom from his grave, I will think of him all the more.
A dear neighbor gave us a book of poems to help us through our loss. Many are consoling, some difficult to even read, but the one which has touched me the most was written by Rudyard Kipling and is entitled Four-Feet.
I have done mostly what most men do,
And pushed it out of my mind;
But I can’t forget, if I wanted to,
Four-Feet trotting behind.
Day after day, the whole day through —
Wherever my road inclined —
Four-feet said, “I am coming with you!”
And trotted along behind.
Now I must go by some other round, —
Which I shall never find —
Somewhere that does not carry the sound
Of Four-Feet trotting behind.