Melina has several new obsessions that keep her occupied for most of the day. First, she likes to move things from one place to another. I think this is pretty normal behavior for a one-year-old. She will open the buffet cupboard in the dining room, take out one of the green 1970s dessert glasses that lives there, and march it into the kitchen, where she sets it down carefully in the middle of the floor. Then she goes back, finds another one, returns to the kitchen, and sets the second one down. I've seen her do this with up to six glasses. Sometimes if I'm lucky I can get her to put them back, but that doesn't always work.
She also loves shoes. She can say the word "shoe" now ("tchoo") and eagerly sticks out her foot when a sandal comes near. I took her into a baby shoe store and she was overjoyed by the selection. She also loves playing with my debit card. I see a scary convergence of these two interests in the distant future.
Another thing Melina loves is climbing. She had been an enthusiastic stair climber since she was about 9 months old, but now she will also trot up hills, even steep ones, and climb onto chairs and tables. She has fallen a few times, but often she doesn't cry when I think for sure she will. She seems to be a pretty tough cookie.
And then there's the obsession with berries, which I wrote about below. Melina seems to have an innate ability to identify huckleberry habitat, at which point she pipes up with "buoy? buoy? buoy?" When we're at home I've given her enough blueberries to turn her into Violet Beauregard. Lately she's been throwing the blueberries on the floor, though, which means that this obsession is on its way out.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Our Olympics Vacation
Last week we took a little trip up to Olympic National Park in Washington. Here’s the trip log.
Day 1: Portland to Pacific Beach
On this sunny Sunday, all bright-eyed and fresh, we packed up the car and headed up I-5 toward the Olympic Peninsula. Melina was tucked away in her now forward-facing car seat and spent most of the drive making little noises to herself and playing with blocks. I had made reservations at the Pacific Beach state park, which we reached around 5:30. Signs along the road continually warned us that we were in a tsunami danger zone and pointed out escape routes. For some reason I was feeling particularly paranoid about tsunamis, so I was comforted to see that our campground was directly at the end of an escape route. Also, we were the only car in the campground that did not have a big motor home attached to it, so I figured we could make a quick exit if we needed to.
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We were completely surrounded by RVs. Since the campground had electricity, there was no generator noise and it was actually very quiet apart from the sound of the distant waves. We had an ocean view, and during the hour and a half that it took Jeff to get Melina to go to sleep that night, I sat out in one of our dilapidated camp chairs, sipping rosé wine and watching the campfires on the beach and the stars above.
Melina enjoyed the beach, although she refused to walk on the soft sand and asked to be carried. She used a crab shell as a little shovel and ran the sand through her hands, occasionally stuffing it into her mouth. Although she seemed afraid of the soft sand, she showed no hesitation at walking directly into the pounding surf.
Day 2: Pacific Beach to Lake Quinault Lodge
In the morning, we packed up our things, vainly attempted to get Melina to take a morning nap, and finally headed out. We stopped at a gas station with an attached Korean deli, where I ordered fried rice while a restaurant safety inspector stood talking to the Korean owner and pointing out one minor health violation after another. Since my fried rice was cooked directly under his nose, I figured I was OK.
We drove about 30 miles to the Lake Quinault resort area, then continued on the Quinault River road in another vain attempt to get Melina to nap. We drove down to the end, into the national park, with its huge moss-draped trees and wide, braided Quinault River. Finally we turned around and checked into the Lake Quinault Lodge.
I was a little disappointed by our room at first. The carpet was stained and wrinkled, the ceiling was low, bushes obscured our view of the lake, and the fireplace was fake – not even gas, but one of those cheesy lighted things that vaguely resembles a fire if you look at it out of the corner of your eye. Then my good hotel karma kicked in and, before we were finished unpacking, the toilet in the room upstairs overflowed into our bathroom. This meant that we were moved into an upstairs room with higher ceilings, a new carpet, and a nice view of the lake. Hooray for overflowing toilets!
The restaurant at the hotel was quite expensive (entrees started at around $20), so we ate across the street at the Quinault Merc, a classic general store that happens to be for sale (for $375,000). I fantasized about buying it and upgrading it a bit to take advantage of the yuppie trade, like the Mazama Store in the Methow Valley. With some soymilk, a good logo, and high-quality outdoor and fishing gear, you could really turn the store around. As it was, the store was solidly traditional, with a menu limited to fried foods (although they did have gardenburgers), ice cream, and espresso drinks (which seem to be mandatory anywhere near Seattle). For four days we pretty much lived on BLTs, gardenburgers, French fries, grilled cheese sandwiches, and tater tots. I don’t think Melina minded much, but I was definitely craving some greens by Friday.
Day 3: North Fork Quinault River
On Tuesday we did a five-mile roundtrip hike to Wolf Bar on the north fork Quinault River. The trail was easy and almost flat, leading under huge old-growth cedar, spruce, and alder trees, and lined on both sides with huckleberry bushes. When we got to Wolf Bar (a long rocky sandbar along the river with a beautiful swimming hole at one end) we ate lunch, skipped rocks, and tried to prevent Melina from eating pebbles. At one point she found herself a stick and, like a monkey eating ants in Africa, dipped it in the sand, licked off the sand, and dipped the stick back in the sand to gather more. The problem was that if you took the stick away from her, she would just find another stick and start the process over again. The only solution was to pick her up and keep her away from the ground. Jeff found a way to skip stones while holding Melina. He also took his obligatory dip into the freezing glacial melt, and we explored the sandbar downriver. I found what I think may have been a cougar track (too large and round to be a dog; to small and round to be a bear). On the way back, Melina started complaining about being in the backpack, so we devised a system of feeding her huckleberries every minute or so to keep her occupied. Luckily, there were enough huckleberries around to hold out until we got to the car; but Melina got greedy, learned how to say berry (something like “buoy”) and demanded berries regularly for the rest of the trip.
As we drove home, a bobcat or a lynx ran across the road in front of us.
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Day 4: Beach 4
On Wednesday we went to the imaginatively named Beach 4 in Olympic National Park. It was a very nice beach with tidepools and rocks, and Melina found lots of new things to put in her mouth. Almost immediately, she managed to consume a tiny snail she picked off a rock (I later identified it as a black turban snail). Apparently these were a staple food source for coastal tribes, but I didn’t know that at the time, and I spent most of the day imagining a life-flight helicopter landing on the lawn at the Quinault Lake Lodge at 3:00 a.m. to ferry Melina, green and paralyzed, to a Seattle emergency ward. This momentarily overtook my fear of tsunamis.
Day 5: Quinault Lake Lodge
On Thursday we ate breakfast in the lodge, taking turns walking Melina outside on the expansive lawn. After this we briefly considered and rejected the idea of renting a canoe (Melina hates wearing a life jacket) so instead we sat on the rocky beach, vainly trying to prevent M. from consuming handfuls of sand. Jeff went for a swim in the lake. Afterward, we took another five-mile hike on the network of trails south of the lodge to see the “Big Spruce Tree.” The trails were very well maintained and signed, and there was lots of impressive old growth to see. The spruce tree was indeed very big, and Melina looked like a doll sitting at its base.
On the way back, Jeff realized that the deli at the Quinault Merc was about to close, so he ran back the mile and a half to order us a pizza so we wouldn’t have to pay for an $80+ meal at the hotel. This left Melina and I alone in the forest, where my suddenly overactive imagination had me battling sasquatches and wildcats, arriving bloody and mangled at the country store just as the pizza was being taken out of the oven. Of course, this didn’t happen, although we did see a bunny on the trail.
Jeff did arrive just in time to order us a pizza, which we at on the lawn at the lodge, washed down with a nice Coors Light.
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Day 6: Quinault Lake Lodge to Graves Creek Campground
Friday started out poorly, with me in a bad mood due to the impending end of our vacation. After several stops and another BLT at the Merc, we drove down to Graves Creek campground. There, we were assaulted with mosquitoes, and had to settle for a second-rate campsite far away from the river. We rallied, though, and went for a short hike to Irely Lake. Melina demanded buoys along the way, and showed mild interest in the tiny frogs hopping across the trail. After a fairly easy one-mile hike we arrived at the ancient-looking lake, where a large green dinosaur would have fit right in with the spindly dead trees rising from the water.
After our return to camp we fed Melina dinner while trying unsuccessfully to shoo away the mosquitoes. Jeff made a fire, I made dinner (Indian food from cans), Jeff put Melina to bed, and I did dishes illegally in the bathroom sink by the light of a flashlight.
Day 7: Home again
On Saturday we decided we had had enough camping among the mosquitoes, and headed home after another dip in Quinault Lake and one last deep-fried meal at the Merc. There’s not much to report about this day, other than Melina’s shocking collection of mosquito bite welts, and the relief of taking a shower and finding that our house hadn’t burned down while we were gone. We managed to extend the vacation a bit on Sunday by meeting up with some friends at a local pool and then having a picnic in the park.
All in all, it was a nice vacation.
Day 1: Portland to Pacific Beach
On this sunny Sunday, all bright-eyed and fresh, we packed up the car and headed up I-5 toward the Olympic Peninsula. Melina was tucked away in her now forward-facing car seat and spent most of the drive making little noises to herself and playing with blocks. I had made reservations at the Pacific Beach state park, which we reached around 5:30. Signs along the road continually warned us that we were in a tsunami danger zone and pointed out escape routes. For some reason I was feeling particularly paranoid about tsunamis, so I was comforted to see that our campground was directly at the end of an escape route. Also, we were the only car in the campground that did not have a big motor home attached to it, so I figured we could make a quick exit if we needed to.
Video Hosting - Upload Video - Video Sharing
We were completely surrounded by RVs. Since the campground had electricity, there was no generator noise and it was actually very quiet apart from the sound of the distant waves. We had an ocean view, and during the hour and a half that it took Jeff to get Melina to go to sleep that night, I sat out in one of our dilapidated camp chairs, sipping rosé wine and watching the campfires on the beach and the stars above.
Melina enjoyed the beach, although she refused to walk on the soft sand and asked to be carried. She used a crab shell as a little shovel and ran the sand through her hands, occasionally stuffing it into her mouth. Although she seemed afraid of the soft sand, she showed no hesitation at walking directly into the pounding surf.
Day 2: Pacific Beach to Lake Quinault Lodge
In the morning, we packed up our things, vainly attempted to get Melina to take a morning nap, and finally headed out. We stopped at a gas station with an attached Korean deli, where I ordered fried rice while a restaurant safety inspector stood talking to the Korean owner and pointing out one minor health violation after another. Since my fried rice was cooked directly under his nose, I figured I was OK.
We drove about 30 miles to the Lake Quinault resort area, then continued on the Quinault River road in another vain attempt to get Melina to nap. We drove down to the end, into the national park, with its huge moss-draped trees and wide, braided Quinault River. Finally we turned around and checked into the Lake Quinault Lodge.
I was a little disappointed by our room at first. The carpet was stained and wrinkled, the ceiling was low, bushes obscured our view of the lake, and the fireplace was fake – not even gas, but one of those cheesy lighted things that vaguely resembles a fire if you look at it out of the corner of your eye. Then my good hotel karma kicked in and, before we were finished unpacking, the toilet in the room upstairs overflowed into our bathroom. This meant that we were moved into an upstairs room with higher ceilings, a new carpet, and a nice view of the lake. Hooray for overflowing toilets!
The restaurant at the hotel was quite expensive (entrees started at around $20), so we ate across the street at the Quinault Merc, a classic general store that happens to be for sale (for $375,000). I fantasized about buying it and upgrading it a bit to take advantage of the yuppie trade, like the Mazama Store in the Methow Valley. With some soymilk, a good logo, and high-quality outdoor and fishing gear, you could really turn the store around. As it was, the store was solidly traditional, with a menu limited to fried foods (although they did have gardenburgers), ice cream, and espresso drinks (which seem to be mandatory anywhere near Seattle). For four days we pretty much lived on BLTs, gardenburgers, French fries, grilled cheese sandwiches, and tater tots. I don’t think Melina minded much, but I was definitely craving some greens by Friday.
Day 3: North Fork Quinault River
On Tuesday we did a five-mile roundtrip hike to Wolf Bar on the north fork Quinault River. The trail was easy and almost flat, leading under huge old-growth cedar, spruce, and alder trees, and lined on both sides with huckleberry bushes. When we got to Wolf Bar (a long rocky sandbar along the river with a beautiful swimming hole at one end) we ate lunch, skipped rocks, and tried to prevent Melina from eating pebbles. At one point she found herself a stick and, like a monkey eating ants in Africa, dipped it in the sand, licked off the sand, and dipped the stick back in the sand to gather more. The problem was that if you took the stick away from her, she would just find another stick and start the process over again. The only solution was to pick her up and keep her away from the ground. Jeff found a way to skip stones while holding Melina. He also took his obligatory dip into the freezing glacial melt, and we explored the sandbar downriver. I found what I think may have been a cougar track (too large and round to be a dog; to small and round to be a bear). On the way back, Melina started complaining about being in the backpack, so we devised a system of feeding her huckleberries every minute or so to keep her occupied. Luckily, there were enough huckleberries around to hold out until we got to the car; but Melina got greedy, learned how to say berry (something like “buoy”) and demanded berries regularly for the rest of the trip.
As we drove home, a bobcat or a lynx ran across the road in front of us.
Video Hosting - Upload Video - Video Sharing
Day 4: Beach 4
On Wednesday we went to the imaginatively named Beach 4 in Olympic National Park. It was a very nice beach with tidepools and rocks, and Melina found lots of new things to put in her mouth. Almost immediately, she managed to consume a tiny snail she picked off a rock (I later identified it as a black turban snail). Apparently these were a staple food source for coastal tribes, but I didn’t know that at the time, and I spent most of the day imagining a life-flight helicopter landing on the lawn at the Quinault Lake Lodge at 3:00 a.m. to ferry Melina, green and paralyzed, to a Seattle emergency ward. This momentarily overtook my fear of tsunamis.
Day 5: Quinault Lake Lodge
On Thursday we ate breakfast in the lodge, taking turns walking Melina outside on the expansive lawn. After this we briefly considered and rejected the idea of renting a canoe (Melina hates wearing a life jacket) so instead we sat on the rocky beach, vainly trying to prevent M. from consuming handfuls of sand. Jeff went for a swim in the lake. Afterward, we took another five-mile hike on the network of trails south of the lodge to see the “Big Spruce Tree.” The trails were very well maintained and signed, and there was lots of impressive old growth to see. The spruce tree was indeed very big, and Melina looked like a doll sitting at its base.
On the way back, Jeff realized that the deli at the Quinault Merc was about to close, so he ran back the mile and a half to order us a pizza so we wouldn’t have to pay for an $80+ meal at the hotel. This left Melina and I alone in the forest, where my suddenly overactive imagination had me battling sasquatches and wildcats, arriving bloody and mangled at the country store just as the pizza was being taken out of the oven. Of course, this didn’t happen, although we did see a bunny on the trail.
Jeff did arrive just in time to order us a pizza, which we at on the lawn at the lodge, washed down with a nice Coors Light.
Video Hosting - Upload Video - Video Sharing
Day 6: Quinault Lake Lodge to Graves Creek Campground
Friday started out poorly, with me in a bad mood due to the impending end of our vacation. After several stops and another BLT at the Merc, we drove down to Graves Creek campground. There, we were assaulted with mosquitoes, and had to settle for a second-rate campsite far away from the river. We rallied, though, and went for a short hike to Irely Lake. Melina demanded buoys along the way, and showed mild interest in the tiny frogs hopping across the trail. After a fairly easy one-mile hike we arrived at the ancient-looking lake, where a large green dinosaur would have fit right in with the spindly dead trees rising from the water.
After our return to camp we fed Melina dinner while trying unsuccessfully to shoo away the mosquitoes. Jeff made a fire, I made dinner (Indian food from cans), Jeff put Melina to bed, and I did dishes illegally in the bathroom sink by the light of a flashlight.
Day 7: Home again
On Saturday we decided we had had enough camping among the mosquitoes, and headed home after another dip in Quinault Lake and one last deep-fried meal at the Merc. There’s not much to report about this day, other than Melina’s shocking collection of mosquito bite welts, and the relief of taking a shower and finding that our house hadn’t burned down while we were gone. We managed to extend the vacation a bit on Sunday by meeting up with some friends at a local pool and then having a picnic in the park.
All in all, it was a nice vacation.
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