local tourist::rathtrevor beach

I live next to Parksville, which is known for its beaches.  One beach in particular, Rathtrevor Beach is World Famous. We don’t go there as frequently as you’d think considering a World! Famous! Beach! is basically at our backdoor because, well, it’s a provincial park and you have to pay for parking.   A whole three dollars.   HIGHWAY ROBBERY!

You’d be surprised how often you hear a local say they don’t go to Rathtrevor Beach because they have to pay that $3.   We’re so spoiled.

Besides, I have since found several other beaches that are all the awesome in the world, without the parking fees and tourists.  Secret beaches.  Beaches I’ve started to name after me and my family because no one else knows they exist, so I can do that.

Anyway.

tide pools are awesome for the kids

splash!

Rathtrevor is still pretty spectacular.  When the tide is low, the beach stretches for a hundred million miles.  No exaggeration.  On super low tides you can walk for a good half an hour before you hit the water.   There are tide pools and oyster beds, sand dollars, starfish, and numerous clams and snails.  We’ve seen big crabs, and itty-bitty hermit crabs.  Eagles are a guarantee, and I’ve seen numerous Herons.  The Brant geese stop at Rathtrevor Beach during their migration and there are days during the spring where there are piles of Brant geese feeding in the eelgrass beds.  That is quite the sight.

shoreline shrubbery

peaceful

There is a path through the Douglas fir forest that you can walk, sneaking out to different areas of the beach that are all different and unique, and if you’re adventurous, you can walk all the way to Parksville Beach.  I’ve never actually done that because I own a car, so uh, why?  It’s not just because I’m lazy, but also because I have wee ones that probably would walk that distance one way, but certainly wouldn’t walk back and I don’t want to carry three children back down the beach.  

One time I had to carry both Callum and Claire up from the water at low tide, back to the shore while they screamed.  That was fun.  The last time we were all there as a family, all three kids started to scream.  And the inflatable doughnut toys the kids swim with started to blow down the beach!  Callum lost his mind!  Then he picked up those toys and marched off the beach.  Steve followed; the kid marched on up to the parking lot and put those doughnut toys back in the truck where they would be safe from the evil wind.  Have I mentioned the evilness of wind in my son’s mind?  I should.  It’s some story.

Yikes, I’m easily sidetracked. 

I do find that the most beautiful time of day at Rathtrevor has always been early evening for me.  The wind is usually non-existent, the light fabulous, and the tourists have all gone for dinner.

beautiful sand

sand play!

Did I mention that there are miles upon miles of lovely soft sand at low tide?   The best sand castle sand on the island I suspect.

And for added adventure, there is also has some weird-ass fungus that can make you really sick lurking in the Douglas fir forest along the shore, and is especially harmful to dogs!  Not too many beaches can beat that!

the shoreline

wordless wednesday::nature walk

nature walk

what i wish for

I don’t have especially high expectation for my kids.  By that I mean, I don’t expect them to be doctors, rock stars, or award-winning journalists.  All that would be wonderful but what they decide to do with their life is neither here nor there to me.   

I do want them to find their passion, though. Maybe they’ll be taking orders and waiting tables by day, but as long as they are doing something that matters to them, that makes them happy, that gives them peace by night?  I’ve done the only job I’m supposed to do here.

And I want them to think for themselves.  So while this may look like a kid wearing a brown paper bag and pretending to be a Superhero, this was the first time he took something and created his own something with absolute no guidance, or goading, from me.  He’s starting to think for himself (and for Curious George) and I like that.

saving the world from evil

with his monkey side kick

a super hero team

Go forth and be a Superhero, my little monkey.

overheard

“mine needs some more water”

“MINE needs some more water”

“mine tastes like beer”

“mine tastes like COFFEE”

“mine needs more water, now it tastes like better beer”

“mine needs more water, tastes like coffee“

+++++++

“see Mama these are my keys”

“I see”

“this one is for the Michael’s store, and this one for the grocery store, and this one for the beer store, and this one for the wine store!”

+++++++

While listening to their play I feel like Steve and I are cracking open a bottle of wine every day and drinking from the bottle.  Like we have shelves of beer in the fridge that we are regularly reaching for.

Honestly, I don’t drink THAT much.  In fact, I hardly ever drink.  I might have a beer once every three or four months, and when I do drink a beer I drink ONE.  Something Steve finds remarkable not being the one-beer type, he prefers several in a sitting so tends to drink even less frequently than I do.  Plus there’s that whole training for a marathon gig that sort of lends itself to a more prudent lifestyle.

I might have a glass of a wine every couple of weeks, and again, I’ll have ONE glass.  I get so sick, so quickly, that even if I wanted to be cracking open that wine bottle at 4 pm everyday (and admittedly, there are weeks where I would love to do that), my body is an evil traitor and I can’t be a normally functioning person the following day what with the pounding heachache and revolting stomach.  No thank-you.

So clearly they are imitating someone else.  I suspect it’s Grandma.

wordless wednesday::family craft

family craft

the luck of the pseudo irish (or, you know, short and plump red-head)

I’ve spent my life having people tell me that I’m lucky.  I was just born lucky. Isn’t that great?  Don’t you just wish you could give all your kids a lucky charm that protected them like that?   I’d pay big money for that.   Then I’d make my kids go out and drum up millions of dollars while I sat on the deck, knit, and drank coffee.   Where the hell is this lucky charm anyway?

ok, I think I have a point.  Stay with me here.

Lucky was one of those labels I had in childhood, to the point where I got to pick my Dad’s scratch-and-wins.  Once I won him $300 or something (I should probably clarify that story with my Mom  Mom?).

Even when I go and have my cards read I have had the psychics comment that I am a lucky person.  More than I has said it.  Once, in university, I got the highest mark on an exam in my last year of engineering and someone actually said to me “you’re so lucky.”   Instead of studying I guess I just spent the evening prior to the test shoving horseshoes up my ass.

I consider myself blessed in oh-so-many ways that I can’t even count.  The fact that I live here, next to this gorgeous ocean.  The fact that I am surrounded by amazing friends and family (I have an incredible family, it’s true.  The friends, though?  I’m taking full credit for hand-picking them).  The fact that I get to stay home and experience what it is like to really be with these children, in this place, in this time.  The very simple and incredible fact that I have three healthy, happy and normal little rottens.

All very lovely things, indeed.  But is it luck?

I consider myself blessed, certainly, but I have always believed that I’ve made my own luck.  Every single person I have ever met has had good and bad things happen to them and I am no exception.  I have always thought that my attitude and the attitude of the other lucky folk I know is really what set me apart.  You know, the whole when life gives you lemons crap.

well, the attitude, and a nice heaping dose of happy hormones.  I’ve got the happy hormones, so I feel good.  Feeling good makes it a lot easier to make lemonade because honestly, making lemonade is a lot of work.  It doesn’t make itself, you know.  It also helps that Michelle bought me a pretty new blender, too.

All this is a preamble to say that I’m reading “The Element” by Ken Robinson and in it he retells a story about an experiment.  Some guy (the book is upstairs and I’m WAY too lazy to go up and get it and properly quote it so you get “some guy”) was studying lucky and unlucky people and basically determined that lucky people have a better attitude and mindset.  But he did this little experiment that I thought was great.  He had a bunch of actors sitting in a coffee shop, and dropped a $5 bill on the ground.  Then he sent out one of the “lucky” dudes he was studying.  Lucky dude saw that $5 bill, picked it up, marched into the coffee shop and ordered himself, and the guy behind him, a free coffee.  Lucky dude then struck up a conversation with the guy, laughed and chatted and in the end exchanged contact information.  Then an unlucky dude was sent.  Unlucky dude stepped right over that $5 bill, ordered his coffee, didn’t interact with anyone, and left.  At the end of the day, they were both asked if anything great happened that day.  The lucky guy was all “yeah!  Free coffee!  Met a great person!”  and the unlucky guy was all “no.”.  Sure, he didn’t get a free coffee but honestly nothing great happened? Come. On.  You had enough free cash lying around to buy a damn coffee.  And you got to drink a coffee.  I bet it was hot.  That’s something.

I so would have found that $5.  And I’m not the only person I know who would have. When I’m out with Michelle we almost always see something really intersting, like a whale or a neat little bird I’d never seen before.  It’s not that those things aren’t around, it’s just that Michelle is looking for those opportunities and because of Michelle I now see more of those opportunities too.  When my Mom and I thrift together, we almost always walk away with an amazing find because we’re looking for it.  When she’s with me I see more potential because I’m talking with her and using her eyes and creativity too.

So while it does seem like opportunities fall into my lap, I think it is more likely that I’m a bit grabby and take the opportunities that were put in front of me.

So I guess my point here is to be grabby.  And look for $5 bills.

All that said, I was born and live in Canada.  Now THAT is a lucky thing.