BACK ON THE HORSE

I am going to play soccer tonight. It will be the first time I will have kicked the ball around for almost nine weeks. I got clearance to ditch the walking boot that was protecting my broken foot three weeks ago, and have been running a few times recently, crawled around on some boulders with the family at the local trout stream, and am ready to test it out between the chalk lines. Regrettably, those nine weeks also represent the last time I have written anything in this journal – not for lack of events or interest, but mostly due to a lack of time.

Six weeks in a walking boot and crutches is not a fun way to spend the end of winter/start of spring. No fly fishing, no surfing, no running after or carrying my boys. The end of lobster season came and went. I don’t think that Landon or Colt ever really grasped the extent of my injury. They would look at my funny shoe and acknowledge that I had an “owwie” and they seemed to understand that I couldn’t pick them up or carry them around. My crutches made fun toys to wave around. But almost every day they would hopefully ask if my “owwie” was gone, and disappointedly frown when I pointed to my still armored foot.

But all is better (knock on wood) and forgotten now. Last Sunday we journeyed over the bumpy dirt road that eventually parallels Trabuco Creek, and the boys spent the late afternoon throwing rocks in the water, looking at bugs, and generally relishing in getting dirty. I was able to not only pick them up, but to also navigate stream crossings and boulder hopping with a boy in tow. I didn’t see any trout, and the only newt I tracked down scurried under a large rock before I could point him out to Landon, but it was an awesome way to spend a spring afternoon nonetheless. The flowers and trees were embracing the season, there was even a small stone fly hatch to watch. Colt repeatedly licked dirt from his fingers.

March 1st we celebrated both of the boys’ birthdays with a pirate themed extravaganza at the local park. It’s hard to comprehend that Landon is already four and Colt now two, it seems like we were getting ready to go to the hospital only weeks ago. The party included a thirty foot long pirate ship bounce house and slide that dominated the park. We had a treasure hunt, cupcakes adorned with skulls and crossbones, and lots of kids running around with pirate hats on their bouncing little heads. Landon’s two close friends from school, Andrew and Jack, attended, and the three of them raced around like a miniature version of the three musketeers. I hobbled around like a peg legged participant, and even grew a pirate beard of sorts for the festivities. The boys both got overly spoiled with presents (again) and all of the family and friends coming together to celebrate our little munchkins made for a memorable afternoon.

A few weeks later we headed out to celebrate Colt’s actual birthday as a family, with a second attempt at an Amtrak ride to San Juan Capistrano. This time we boarded the train and Colt giggled as he bumped along on his first ‘real diesel’ train ride. We got a quick bite to eat at Ruby’s and watched the model trains chug around the ceiling. Then we raced back down to the station (as much as I could race on crutches) so we wouldn’t miss our return connection. We got there just in time and sat down on a bench to catch our breath and wait for the train’s arrival. And we waited. And then we waited some more. It was a hot spring afternoon so eventually Rhiannon decided to trudge over to the ticket booth to find out what had caused the delay. She returned with a look of disbelief - another bummed out person decided it was a good Saturday to die, and jumped in front of the train down in Solana Beach. This was the second suicide that had confounded our plans to ride the rail within the past three weeks! Either this is an epidemic that I was never aware of, or we are some sort of beacon, pulling miserable souls to the tracks like moths to a flame. Regardless, we were stuck at the train station with two tired boys in the ever warming afternoon sun. It was a long three hours, but we finally made it home. The boys were pumped again on the train ride, although I informed them that we wouldn’t be coming back for a very long time…

I have a lot more to write, but my commute home and soccer game are beckoning, so I will be back soon… I promise… maybe as early as tomorrow.