Twenty Years of Vanguard
One must always maintain one's connection to the past and yet ceaselessly pull away from it. To remain in touch with the past requires a love of memory. To remain in touch with the past requires a constant imaginative effort.
-- Gaston Bachelard
Saturday, August 5, 2000
Two years ago: Voices
Three years ago: Film as Dream
I had some time this morning to do email stuff, while combing my hair. On the DECLUTTR list, someone asked for a new topic, in sort of a snippy way. "I am getting really bored with all this discusion about clothes, as it just doesn't pertain to me at present." I do not approve of such conduct, especially since she made another poster feel bad. "Sorry, seems like everytime I post here, someone ends up annoyed. I didn't mean any harm..."
So I replied off-list to the person who was apologizing, and decided to set a good example. If a list's content doesn't appeal, one should start a topic that does appeal to one! So I talked about using the swiffer, last year, and all the work Jack and H--- helped me with on my bedroom. I've been able to maintain fairly well since then, even if things haven't improved a lot. I ended with a link to one of my first entries about a list being what you make it.
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My sister arrived a few minutes before I expected her, so I had to send email to Jack (to warn him), then log off, shut down, and so on. We drove north, the two boys in the back seat. We chatted merrily about this and that. After an hour, B---- started poking his brother. My sister almost immediately pulled to the side of the highway, and moved him to the seat in the far back of the station wagon. (She stood for no nonsense since she's taking them both on a camping trip starting tomorrow.)
Jack was almost ready when we arrived. M---- hadn't been to his place before, and the boys have never been farther north than Edmonds. We caravaned in both vehicles, Jack's Blazer pulling the trailer with the raft. A stop at the grocery store and sub shop, then east out the Mount Baker Highway.
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We went through Deming, all the way to Mosquito Lake Road. (Sounds enticing, doesn't it? We haven't visited the lake yet, but maybe it's named that to keep the outsiders away!) We dropped off the raft, then Jack and M---- drove to where we planned to take out, while I and the three kids (Jack's daughter H---- was with us, also) pumped up the raft, and went over safety drills.
We hadn't been on this part of the river before, but we'd scouted the put-in a few weeks ago. Jack figured that if we ran into someplace where the raft couldn't go, we'd portage around somehow. It was a beautiful morning, and the river was great. There were a good number of snags to be avoided, which we accomplished with little trouble.
My nephew B----- was enchanted with the ride. "This is much better than an old-fashioned wooden boat!" (but I'm still unclear on what made it so much better.) "I wonder how many miles per hour we are going?"
After we negotiated the confluence of the North Fork and South Fork of the Nooksack, we pulled up onto a sandy shore and ate the lunch we'd brought in the ice chest. (I felt very pleased with myself, because I'd had the idea of filling all the water bottles I'd accumulated from dancing, and freezing them at my place. So we had "ice" for the ice chest, and cold water to drink! along with sodas, of course) Jack found an eagle feather back under a bush, and gave it to my older nephew J--- when B----- wasn't interested. J---- did some scrambling around on a steep hillside with H----. His mother watched, and restrained herself to only a few winces. He did fine, and didn't fall in the water or injure himself.
The rest of the trip was good (but boring for H----, I fear). We were impressed again with the tall shale/clay cliffs, and with the large t-shaped concrete objects that are preserving the bank west of Deming.
We pulled up onto a broad beach of rounded river cobbles. Jack and my sister again went to get the other vehicle, while I waited with my nephews. B---- threw rocks into the river, while J--- and I chatted.
When the others rejoined us, M---- and the boys drove back home. Jack, H---- and I loaded the raft back onto the trailer. This process goes quickly now, as we learn the most efficient way to do it. We stopped at the video store to pick out movies for H---- to watch tonight, since she didn't want to join us at Vanguard.
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After Jack took a shower at his place, we drove south. I bought dinner at the Buzz Inn. I like this inexpensive, quick steak place! Another restaurant in this chain was where Jack and I had dinner last Valentine's Day. I'd wanted to shower and change clothes at home, so that's what I did.
We were a bit later to Vanguard than I usually am, but that was ok. Twenty years of Vanguard! But I've only been attending since the early nineties. I had a good time, talking to friends, sitting on the front steps or in the basement. I got a look at the book Margaret Organ Kean has just illustrated -- Petronella, by Jay Williams. I like it! The pictures are good, and it's a fun story.
We could make nametags for ourselves, listing the year we started coming to Vanguard, and who introduced us to it. I think Melissa Shaw urged me to start coming (I was shy at first), and it was 1992 or 1993. I typo'd Jack's nametage, and wrote 1999 when it should have been 1998!
Jack is so good to me! All this driving made a long day, but he knew I really wanted to go to Vanguard after missing a few months. He's good to me in other ways, too. And I guess I'm good to him!
