my, how time flies

Yesterday marked a month since Jo moved out. I would do well to keep it in mind that, though it feels as if much more time has passed, it's only been four and a half weeks.

Looking at the four of us coping with this change in our family, we're all struggling in our own ways. It's easy to take a look at any one of us in a good moment and to see how well that person is taking it and how little the change is impacting that person. The bad moments are different for all of us.

The Boy is still really struggling with his schedule. He's getting exhausted just about every day because he has to get up and going earlier in the day. He tries not to complain, and he's really being a champ about it all, but he also has developed a need to be close most nights in order to get a good night's sleep.

The Girl is trying to balance the stresses of home with the typical stresses of being in third grade - homework is more extensive, friends are shifting, and she's getting more and more responsibility at home as well. On the surface, she may be handling things the best of all of us, but I wouldn't be surprised if there's something lurking under there.

Jo probably has it worst right now. She's been uprooted from everything that she and I built over more than eight years. She sees her kids almost every day, but only gets to be their Mama with them one evening a week. I can't imagine how hard that must be, and it tears me up just thinking about it. She's trying to be strong and independent and so I'm giving her that space and trying as much as I can to follow Wheaton's Law.

Me? I work really long days. From the moment I wake up until the moment the kids go to sleep, I'm taking care of somebody's kids. When that ends, I have to decide whether I'll take some time for me (a movie on Netflix or a book?) or whether I'll try to catch up on sleep. I feel lonely, but I think it's mostly for lack of someone with whom I can be domestic. In many ways, though there are so many more responsibilities for me to shoulder, it's easier because I know that they're all mine and I always know who's to blame when something goes undone.

We're entering the wet season, to be followed closely by the dark season. I imagine this will all get a lot more difficult for all of us at that time, but until then, I will try to focus as much as I can on the fact that there is still a lot of love and a lot of laughter to be had.

sometimes you really have to work hard to find the sun

This past Sunday, I sure did. About thirty students and about ten chaperones headed 10 miles across the ocean (saw lots of humpback behavior while we were did that), then took just over eight hours to get up a dormant volcano and back. Here are some images from the hike:

Alaskans are fancy with their offloading. Click any image for bigger versions.

The hike began in rainforest...

...but it didn't take long to transition to muskeg.

Muskeg is essentially the same as a peat bog. Standing in that puddle for long would have been a bad idea.

Sitka TrailWorks put in some nice boardwalks...

...and a bunch of bridges. The manpower involved in transporting and building in these more remote locations is mind-boggling. And the stairs are leg-tormenting.

We're basically hiking through clouds here, which means that the spiderwebs look awesome. Also, TONS of berries low to the ground.

Taking a quick rest with our group and previewing the sunshine.

There's some sun!

No, this isn't the steepest part yet.

From here on up, it's all scree. Imagine a mix of pumice, feldspar, basalt, and bits of obsidian (you know, the crap that a volcano spews out when it builds a cinder cone), where almost all of it is smaller than your hand. Where it's carpeted in low-lying berries, it's almost easy to hike. Those run out halfway up, though.

Yes, those are mountains past the clouds.

This .6 mile stretch took an hour to climb down. Taking breaks heading up was a good idea.

The stakes are there to guide hikers on low-visibility days. They are important progress markers, too, for motivating people to go just a few steps further.

The cairn marks the top of the trail. From here, it's an easy jaunt to the crater (maybe 200 meters).

Panorama!

That's what "dormant" looks like.

Yep, that hiking kilt worked perfectly. We took some group shots and enjoyed lunch in the sun and wind.

Of course, if you go up...

It wasn't so much a "climb" down as a "slide" down.

I do plan to eventually edit this to be black and white with this music in the background. If you don't find that funny, you need to watch more good movies. Don't bother trying to play the movie - I'll share it on YouTube when it's ready to go. For right now, it's essentially just a GIF.

A first glimpse of the ocean! 14 miles and 3200 vertical feet and we were definitely ready to be done.

They brought a bigger, nicer boat to take us back. We still had to use a ladder to get on!

These guys didn't even see the juvenile humpback breach twice in under a minute. It was spectacular - completely vertical, a twist, everything cleared the water except its flukes. No chance I was wasting time finding my camera.

So there you have it. That's how Alaskans do day hikes.

slow, quiet days are bad

I'm beginning to dread my weekends.

Today, I had two things on my agenda: make breakfast for the kids and go to the Farmer's Market. I added a few small errands on the way to the Market, but my schedule was clear by 12:30. Normally, that would sound like a recipe for a great day, but it wasn't quite.

The first problem was that today was rainy. I have realized that I have Seasonal Affective Disorder, which is an adorably-named affliction aside from the fact that calling it "SAD" is much cuter than the actual disorder and the fact that it blows to have my mood connected to my vitamin D levels. I take D supplements on a daily basis, which enable me to do really well on sunny days here and decently on days where there is intermittent sun. A day like today, however, is really rough. Not only was it wet, it has been so rainy that we're on track to double a rainfall record older than me. The gray got less dark at one point, and I guess that's what counts for sun today.

The second problem was that not having anything on the schedule means that I'm sitting here, alone with my thoughts. I had tentative plans to spend all of tomorrow being physically active and some of this evening hanging out with adult friends, but those plans got shelved when tomorrow's forecast canceled the outdoor activity and the overnight babysitting. Instead, I'm cooped up in the house with a pair of great kids who have a lot of energy and good will, but aren't adults at all. It has been pointed out to me recently that stay-at-home parents get to deal with this scenario daily, but I don't even get the relief of having an adult coming to spend some of the evening with me. Normally, when I'm alone with my thoughts, being musical helps to banish the demons. Several hours of attempting that have only helped the smallest of amounts.

I should probably read, but my desire for sociability is too great. I should find something to do, but my heart isn't in chores (and I've done enough laundry, cooking, and cleaning today - I deserve at least part of a day off from that). I have had one nice conversation on the phone with a friend, but a long-distance phone conversation, pleasant as it was, is just not the same as being around people. I should seek out physical activity, but it's wet and I can't leave the kids alone and I just don't wanna try that hard right now.

I don't need much - though I'd love to have someone here to cuddle with, simply having someone (or a few someones) to talk with over dinner or play cards with would be enough at this point. This is the part that's hard for me, and I don't expect many people to understand.

worth remembering

note to self: never take advice of any sort from Joey Comeau

...unless it's about how to be awesome and have exactly the life you want by living completely outside of societal norms.

adjustments

It's taking some getting used to, this single life. For the most part, it's an intensification of my previous routine, with certain parts simplified (no sense asking if a partner is getting the mail/groceries/kids, for instance). One thing that is really an adjustment, though, is that there is so much time for thinking and so little opportunity to share the ideas that result. If I'm lucky, this will result in a more introspective, thoughtful version of myself, capable of listening more than speaking.

mutuals

For all the joy that dear friends can bring, there is nothing that quite compares to the feeling of introducing two dear friends who then become friends in their own right.