

It was an early race, and some of Pat's kids didn't run but both teams ran well. The girls got first place and the guys got second. Go, Beach!
Last weekend, Pat and I went up to Big Bear Lake to scout the area for his cross country camp. It is only 103 miles from Long Beach but a world away. The sky was clear blue, the air was crisp and the trees swayed in the breeze.
The lodge grounds were pretty, and I laughed when I discovered a local Girl Scout Troop had the suite beneath us.
It happened to be the evening of the Olympic marathon which was particularly significant because Ryan Hall, a US runner, hails from Big Bear. There were signs like this one at the bus stop all over town wishing him well.
The next day, we got up and did a trail run. It hurt like heck--the first 2.5 miles were uphill to a beautiful overview of the lake but it also felt great. Running on a trail is definitely a lot more satisfying than pavement pounding here in the big city.
In my mind, I envisioned that the cows would be set free in an enclosed area to roam as they desired. However, that wasn't quit the case. Members of a local children's soccer team led the cows around the area. Somehow, we missed the first "plop"which landed on number 777 (a lucky number for someone else, I suppose).
This cow was standing on one of our numbers! So, we shouted silly things like "stay there! Come on! You can do it!" Really--I hope the first and only time in my life that I will encourage a cow to do his business in my area. Alas--this cow just milled around and eventually wandered away.
The crowd got excited when this cow raised her tail but it was a false alarm--just a little pee-pee.
Finally, another cow "plopped." Number 67. How about this action shot?
Then things slowed down. The cows ate some grass.
When I saw the farmers relaxing in their lawn chairs, I realized we might be in for the long haul.
Then the cows got tired of wandering the field. They sat down and refused to move. The farmer yelled at the kids to let them rest.
Pat's dad expertly steered us out of the harbor.
And we looked at all the beautiful houses. I'm pretty sure this is the one Pat's parents have decided to buy for us.
The Taughers were wonderful. Not only did they take us sailing but they also took us out to dinner the next night and invited us to BBQ on Sunday.
I even had the chance to steer the boat. I quickly realized that the best technique was to hardly touch the wheel and just "look nautical." Check out my very "nautical" plaid shorts!
My mother-in-law and I went up to the front (or as boaters fancily say "the bow") and enjoyed the perfect evening.
Around this time, Pat took the helm. However, he didn't manage to look as nautical (fleece?) as I did which really did affect his performance.
Look at Long Beach in the background.
There are four "islands" off the shore of Long Beach. The Walt Disney company designed them to look like offshore paradises. What are they really? Oil wells!
We also learned that this grove of trees was the original setting for the TV show "Gilligans Island."
After we returned to the harbor, Pat and I took the dingy out for a spin. Much more our style...
I finally have time to do a post about our wonderful kitties, Rascal and Stormy. Rascal and Stormy are smart, talented, creative, and adorable beyond belief. They are definitely more advanced than other kitties their age, and we aren't just saying that either! Here is the back story: Last April when we were living in Fort Worth, Pat went out into our little backyard to clean off the deck. All of a sudden he jumped back and said "Oh, my God, there is a cat out here with kittens." Sure enough, one of the local feral cats had given birth to three kittens just a few days before. I knew I might get attached to them so I vowed to ignore them all. My vow lasted for, oh, a few days. Pretty soon I was out there checking them out all the time. Over the next four weeks, Pat and I named all the kitties. We had a feeling that was a pretty bad sign for us. After many discussions, we decided to give two of the kitties a life of indoor luxury. We had hoped to steal them away from Mama Cat when they were about eight weeks old but it didn't quite work out that way. After about five weeks, the kitties were roaming around and leaving our yard, and we were concerned they might wander into the road. So, one morning, while Mama Cat was out, I stole all three kitties away. Pat and I just couldn't see ourselves with three cats, and we were thankful when our apartment managers found a home for the third kitty. However, the next week was heart wrenching. Mama Cat spent the next week prowling in our backyard, crying for her babies. At times, I felt like just throwing them back out there to her! But, then there would have just been three more feral cats in the world.
Rascal is the tabby on the left. She earned her name just because she always looks on the verge of some misadventure. We consider her the MacGyver of cats because she can always figure out a way to get at whatever she wants. A few months ago when we went on vacation, and the kitties broke into our refrigerator, spoiling everything inside, we had no doubt as to who had been the mastermind behind it. Stormy is on the right. He is so named because it was a tempestuous spring weather-wise in Fort Worth. Stormy is a cat ruled by his own desires. We can swat him down off the kitchen counter 18 times, and he will jump right back up if he thinks there is any chance any food for him. We don't have the heart to hold it against him because, while Rascal can be a typical standoffish feline, Stormy is all about the lovin'. He loves to cuddle and snuggle in a warm lap.
The kitties spent most of their first day in our apartment hiding behind a bookcase. But, they quickly warmed up to us!
And, just like us, they love running shoes!
They are the best of friends...
But, they also have daily "Kitty smack downs." In this picture, Stormy has jumped on Rascal and is biting her neck.