little black journal

Thursday was our last full day in Banff, and since our legs were still slightly weary from the previous day’s hike, we decided to get in the car and do some sightseeing along the Icefields Parkway.  Our first stop along the way was Peyto Lake – as we made the short-but-steep climb up to this vista, I started to huff and muttered to myself, “I hope this is worth it…”  And…duuuuuude!  Now this is a view.  ‘Nuff said.

Peyto Lake was impossible to top, but we made several other stops along the way, hopping out of the car to snap a few photos or skip a few rocks.

We spent the afternoon at Lake Moraine, drinking in the view of more turquoise water from our little rented canoe.

And one final quiet evening at the campsite – Shane polished off the rest of our screwcap wine while I kept the fire stoked, and we thought to ourselves, “This was just what we needed.”

On Friday morning, we made one last stop at Lake Louise on our way out of town, knowing that it could be a very long time before we came across anything this beautiful again.  *Sigh*.

The drive home was loooong, but we made it back to Seattle in one piece on Friday night, eager to wash the smell of campfire out of our hair and sleep in our own comfy bed.  And with that, our week in the great outdoors was behind us.  *Double sigh*…

From the second we hit the outskirts of Banff National Park on Tuesday evening, I knew we were in for something special – the rugged, snow-capped peaks set against the blue, blue sky were stunning.  But that first glimpse was just the tip of the iceberg (I know, I just can’t stop with the bad puns!), because we were in for so much more than we’d even hoped for.  Our campsite was just 4 km from Lake Louise, so we were up-and-at-em Wednesday morning for a nice long hike around the edge of the lake and then up through the mountains to the Plain of Six Glaciers.  I’ve heard stories about the indescribable color of Lake Louise, and it’s true, I’ve never seen anything like it.  The glacial deposits in the water give it this deep aqua tint that makes you think you’re in the Caribbean, until you look up and see that you’re surrounded by glaciers.  The pictures really don’t do it justice…  After drinking in the beauty of the lake, we set off on our hike, which began with a nice little stroll along the shore.

Then we climbed…

And climbed…

And decided to stop for photos of each other while we were both still smiling…

Climbed some more, and voila!  Victory!  4.2 miles later, we had reached our destination, where we each flopped down on a nice flat rock and sighed a big fat sigh of satisfied pride.  The view was stunning, the air was perfectly crisp and fresh, the deep blue sky was strewn with puffy white clouds, and I think we each said a silent thank you to God for being so amazingly talented.

After catching our breath, we picked ourselves up and made our way down the mountain in record time, stopping at the bottom to get a good look at the way the change in the sun’s angle had altered the color of the lake.

Our aching feet told us we’d earned the right to forsake our cold cuts on wheat bread for burgers and fries in downtown Banff.  And I will not apologize for eating out while camping, ’cause those sweet potato fries were gooood.  The rest of the evening was spent lounging around the campsite, reading, popping open a bottle of screw-cap wine, and keeping the fire stoked.  And I was convinced, we just might be onto something with this whole camping thing…

Shane and I embarked on Monday on our first-ever solo camping trip – we were up before dawn that morning to pile our tent, sleeping bags, and various essentials into our trusty Civic, and by 5 a.m. we were headed east, excited by the prospect of five full days in the great outdoors. Our first destination was Glacier National Park, where we would camp for night on Lake McDonald, followed by three nights in Canada’s Banff National Park.  I camped a lot as a kid (some of my earliest memories are of sitting by the campfire, watching my mom cook up whatever fish my dad caught in the river that day), and Shane and I have gone on several weekend camping trips with groups of friends over the past few years, but this was the first time we were doing it on our own.  This made me the slightest bit anxious for two reasons:  1) When I found I forgot something (and it’s inevitable that you will forget something when packing for a camping trip), I couldn’t just shout out, “Hey, did someone bring ___???” and hope for an affirmative response, and 2) It’s easy and fun to sit around a campfire all evening and tell stories with a big group of friends, but were Shane and I really up for the task of keeping each other entertained for five solid days?   Fortunately, 1) It turned out I hadn’t forgotten anything that couldn’t be picked up at the little market near camp, and 2) Shane and I are actually pretty entertaining people.  Go figure.

Anyhow, after a long drive, we arrived at our campsite Monday afternoon, tired but eager to set up camp and then explore the sights.  Sadly, just as we began to unpack our tent, raindrops started to fall, and though it never poured, it sprinkled on and off throughout the evening. Thankfully, it was still dry enough for us to have a fire, so we warmed ourselves by the flames while we munched on grilled corn on the cob and bratwursts, followed by s’mores.  Turned out to be a pretty decent night after all…

We awoke Tuesday morning to the sound of birds chirping, and I could tell from the glow of the roof of our nylon tent that the rain had passed and we were in for a beautiful day.  After a short walk down to Lake McDonald to take in the sparkling water, we packed up camp and hit the road once again.

We had decided to take the scenic route up to Banff, via ‘Going-to-the-Sun-Road’ – 53 miles of winding, mountainous glory.  It was an amazing drive, and we ooh-ed and ahh-ed all along the way, from the rolling green hills up to the snow-capped glaciers.  Thank God Shane was driving, because there’s no way I could have kept my eyes on the road with sights like this around every bend!

Our first big encounter with Glacier National Park wildlife:  this guy was just chillin’ by the side of the road, nodding his head to the cars as they passed.  Awesome.

And with one final gander at the beauty of Glacier, we were off to Banff, wondering if Canada’s mountains could top what we’d seen in Montana.  Stay tuned to find out if they did!  (How’s that for a cliff-hanger?!)

We spent this past weekend in the great outdoors, camping with friends at a cool little spot just outside of Leavenworth.  It was a nice little getaway, complete with good food, lots of laughs, and lovely scenery.  The landscape was beautiful, so although I was tempted to spend the weekend parked in my camping chair, I couldn’t resist the lure of the mountains and and joined the group on a hike toward Eight-Mile Lake.

After a couple of hours leisurely picking our way among the lupines and fresh Spring growth, we arrived at our destination, where the ladies grabbed a seat and took a rest, and the boys skipped stones and scrambled over logs.

The rest of the day was wonderfully lazy, with a nap, and lots of just loungin’ around the campsite – the G-man was our little camper-in-training.

Nightfall when camping means one thing, and one thing only: S’MORES!  And we are a group of people that take our dessert very seriously, so standard s’more fare just wouldn’t do – I was pretty proud of myself when I put together this perfect marshmallow-peanut butter cup sandwich.  Oooooooh yeah.

But then Jordan had to one-up me with his feat of marshmallow-Reese’s engineering genius – we all drooled as we watched this skewer turn into a gooey, chocolatey mess.  And we all groaned when he held it over the fire just a second too long and half of this fell in the ashes.  Sigh.

Sunday I awoke the pitter-patter of raindrops on the tent roof and groaned as I pictured us spending breakfast time huddled around the picnic table, trying to cook our stash of bacon and eggs in the extreme dampness.  Ick.  The thought was enough to make me squirm a little deeper into my sleeping bag and go right back to sleep.  Fortunately, we had a super-selfless camper in our midst, and as the rest of us stayed huddled in our tents, sleeping our way through the raindrops, Jordan was expertly stringing a 20-foot tarp over the picnic table, so that we would have a dry refuge from the rain.  It sure pays to camp with people who know what they’re doing…

We ended the weekend with a bang, heading out to Boudreaux Cellars, tucked away in the woods just outside of Leavenworth, for a round of winetasting.  We tasted five tasty wines and got the VIP tour, complete with a stroll though the wonderfully musty underground cellar.

And with that, we pointed our cars west and all headed back to Seattle, eager to wash the smell of campfire smoke from our clothes, but satisfied with a weekend well-spent.

Ummm…Hi, June! Where did you come from, and why are you passing me by so very quickly? Wowsers, life has been busy lately, and I feel like I am running at breakneck speed just to keep up. It’s good, though. I wouldn’t have wanted to turn down any of the things that have kept me on my toes. For example:

Shane and I were invited by a friend I work with to check out the Sounders game on Saturday night. Soccer is quickly becoming my new favorite sport, as I’ve had the chance to attend a few games over the past year and have developed a mild case of Sounder Fever. Yes, there is a bit of monotony in watching the guys run up and down and up and down the field, but the surge of energy that flows through the stadium whenever they score a goal makes all that waiting well worth it. Lucky for us, the Sounders were in fine form on Saturday and scored four goals, which meant lots of jumping out of our seats, clapping our hands, cheering loudly, and catching the glittery confetti that rained from the sky. Good stuff.

Sunday was my first day back in the print studio since my class ended last fall. I had almost the entire day to myself in there and was in art-making heaven, with Bon Iver piping through my headphones, a table full of brightly colored paint to mix and smear and roll, and a printing press just begging to be put to use. I got a lot of stuff of done, much of which I left in the studio to dry on the racks, but here’s a little peek at some not-quite-finished pieces. I am in love with this process, and am trying to figure out what our dining room would look like if we swapped out our table for a printing press. I’m kidding. Kind of.

And now, I am beat. As in, ready for the weekend!

As is usually the case with any long weekend, I am sitting here with the knowledge that I have to return to work tomorrow and wondering, ‘Where did the past three days go?!’. Time flies when you’re having fun, I guess…

I was up and at ’em first thing on Saturday morning to head over to West Seattle for my work day at the encaustic studio. The instructors of the workshop I took in March have a great space set up over there for renters, where I had everything I needed right at my fingertips in order to make a lovely little mess. It was a productive day for me, as I finished a couple of pieces and got started on a couple of others, but still, even after nine hours in the studio, I wanted more. These sorts of intense art sessions are exhausting, but completely energizing at the same time. Can’t wait to get back in there. Here’s a sneak peek – more photos to come when I have the whole ‘collection’ done.

Yesterday we zipped down to Portland for a long-overdue visit with my brother and his family. As I’ve said after every trip down there over the past two years, I can’t believe how Elise has changed since I saw her last. She is taller, faster, chattier, and showing major signs of favoritism toward her Uncle Shane (I won’t hold this against her).  One of her favorite toys these days is the Magna-Doodle that Shane and I bought her for Christmas, and she spent quite a bit of time on my lap this weekend, drawing to her heart’s content.  Whatever I asked her to draw, whether it was an elephant, a penguin, or a picture of her Grandpa, she responded enthusiastically with, “OK, sure!” (her latest catch phrase), and proceeded to give it her best shot.  Granted, all of her doodles bear a striking a resemblance to one another, and I’m not sure I could differentiate her giraffe from her representation of Uncle Shane, but she gets an A+ for effort.  She also loves to read, and had a lot of fun pulling books off the shelves left and right during our visit to Powell’s this weekend.  I like to think of her as a future book club member-in-training.  Goodness, I love this little girl!

And so, another weekend come and gone (sigh).  But it was so, so good while it lasted!

I guess the Schnells are one year closer to becoming an old married couple, as May 20th marked our fourth anniversary.  Lucky for me, Shane was feeling exceptionally romantic and booked us an overnight getaway in a secret location – my only instructions were to meet him at the ferry terminal at noon on Thursday.  His plans were revealed as we boarded the Bainbridge Island boat – he had reserved us a night at a little cottage tucked away on the island.  It felt nice to look back at the Seattle skyline with my husband, to know that we were cruising away from work, from the house, and from the daily grind, so that we could spend the next 24 hours focusing on each other.  We were due for some ‘us’ time.

Any good getaway includes plenty of indulgent food, so after fish ‘n chips and beer at the Harbour Public House, we zipped right over to Mora for ice cream.  They have 48 flavors there.  My lifelong dream is to try them ALL.  Post-ice cream, we headed over to Fort Ward Park for a little afternoon nature walk.  The sun was shining, the wind was whispering the trees, the woods were rich with just about every imaginable shade of green, and so the stage was set for a perfectly sappy hand-in-hand anniversary stroll.  Lovely.  A snake temporarily startled me out of my bliss, but he seemed much more interested in the slug he was trying to devour than he was in us, so we continued on our way.

After our walk, we were ready to check into our cottage, crack open a bottle of wine, and spend the rest of the afternoon relaxing.  Our accommodations were perfect – cozy, quiet, and nestled in among the trees…  Ten minutes there, and I was ready to move in.

We had a fabulous dinner at Agate Pass, and after a spontaneous 20-minute detour to check out the casino we passed on the way back to our place (I won $15 at my first slot machine and decided to quit while I was ahead), we were ready to call it a night.  Turning in at 10 pm is another sure sign that we’re on our way to becoming an old married couple.

Sleeping in is also a crucial part of a good getaway, and so we did just that on Friday morning, rolling out of bed in time to devour the delicious homemade breakfast that was delivered to our door.  Fresh-baked scones and French-press coffee, enjoyed from a little table next to a window that looks out into the forest?  Yes, please!  I really was enamored with the woods – ferns and moss and green, green trees as far as the eye can see.  I can feel myself becoming more and more of a Northwestern-er every day.

And then it was time to bid the island farewell and cruise back toward Seattle.  And yes, that means heading back to work, and the house, and the daily grind, but it also means heading home with the man I love.  Candles and wine and afternoon walks in the woods are all good things, but I suppose there’s also romance to be found in an evening spent on the couch together watching a baseball game, or a quick kiss good-bye on our way out the door in the morning.  So until May 20th rolls around again, I will be savoring the goodness of the day-in, day-out, which is really what’s gotten us through the last four years, and will carry us through the next forty.

Oh, what a weekend…  Busy, but full of so many good things.  The weather in Seattle was phenomenal, and we spent every moment possible outdoors, loading up on vitamin D.

On Saturday morning, we headed over to the International District to volunteer with our friends from our community group at Danny Woo Garden.  This is a community garden which was created for elderly immigrant residents living in this area just south of downtown Seattle, to foster their connections to the earth and to the surrounding neighborhood.  It is an amazing space, terraced with patch after patch of vegetables, fruits, and flowers, tended to by a generation and a culture of people that have an intimate knowledge of and respect for the soil.  Our mission, as part of our church’s urging to ‘bless our neighbors’, was simple:  do whatever needed doing.  This meant weeding, digging, planting, transplanting, sowing, building, chopping, and generally having a blast doing our small part to support the growth and sustenance of the garden.  Once we were all given our tasks, we divided and conquered, and accomplished what I would like to think was a pretty decent chunk of work.  Four hours after our arrival, peas had been planted under a new supporting trellis, much of the garden waste pile had been broken down and prepared for compost, the flagstone path in the children’s garden had been mended, several planter beds were freshly cleaned of weeds, and we were one dirty, tired, happy bunch.

The G-man was a huge help that day – what he lacked in ability, he made up for in spirit:

The dudes, ready for action.:

Shane and Jack were labeled our ‘trusty swordsmen’ and were given the task of chopping up some the larger garden waste for the compost pile.  I can’t decide how I feel about this photo – funny, or kinda scary…?

Michelle, Jon, and I were put on a ‘fern rescue mission’ – moving several struggling ferns from a sunny spot to the this shadier space in the garden.  Here they are, mid-mission:

Some of the gang (Shane was supposed to snap a photo as Jack was in mid-jump, but he’s a little quick on the trigger…):

Some garden lovelies:

It was fun to see us all rally to get things done, and the intent of the garden to build relationships rang true as we labored together, laughed together, and pigged out together as we rewarded ourselves with Vietnamese sandwiches from the deli down the street.  And I gotta say, the good, good earth feels especially good when enjoyed under the sunshine with some of your very dearest friends.

Every once in awhile, I have one of those moments that makes me think, ‘Duuuuude, I love Seattle!’.  Exhibits A and B:

These longer hours of daylight have made me feel like we actually have more hours in the day, so when I got home from the gym tonight, instead of crashing out on the couch and calling it a day, I popped in the door and asked Shane if he’d be up for heading out to dinner at our most favorite pizza place.  With work and work-outs and the general to-do’s of our lives, it’s rare that we spontaneously go out on a weeknight, since we both need frequent low-key evenings at home to recharge, but I felt the need to celebrate our sun-shiny evening.  And I knew a night out at Tutta Bella would be an easy sell to the husband, considering that he has never turned down an offer of pizza in the 11 years I’ve known him.  We took our table by the window and ordered a couple of our favorites – the Giovanni, topped with prosciutto and arugula, was perfection, and the salame Pino never disappoints.  But considering this is the third time we’ve eaten pizza from this place in the last two weeks, I’d say we’re now due for a pizza fast – somehow cheese, salted meats, and pizza crust aren’t part of that ‘healthier eating’ plan I’ve been working on.  Actually, I might just have to rethink that plan altogether…

On our way home, we saw hints of pink in the sky over Beacon Hill, so we decided to jet over to the bridge that overlooks downtown and Elliott Bay to catch the final remnants the sunset – and although it was chilly out there, I felt like we were getting the first little peek of the summer that’s in store for us.  And that makes me very, very happy.

I have spent the past few days sifting through my photos and my memories of our week and Mexico – below is a random smattering of reflections…

First off, hot damn!  This place is beautiful!  From the sandy beaches to the lush jungles just off-shore, I was constantly struck by the magnificence of the landscape.  I don’t know if it’s the vastness of it, or the never-ending rhythm of the waves, or just our innate human desire to be near water, but the ocean has a draw to it that is unlike any other force I know.  And with most of our beach experiences being along the chilly Pacific of the California Central Coast, it was such a treat to set foot in the water at Sayulita and find that it was perfectly suited for swimming.  We were constantly in and out of the water during our whole week in Mexico, hopping in with a boogie board when the waves picked up, grabbing a snorkel mask when they died down, and then popping in just for a quick dip when the sun got too hot.  And seriously, how can you top waking up to the sun rising over the ocean?

Second, sometimes it is good, and perfectly acceptable, to spend a few days just being supremely lazy.  I wouldn’t really call Shane and I ‘beach-people’, but after a full day spent just camped out in a lounge chair under a shade umbrella in the sand, we were sold on the merits of beach-bumming.  On one of our last days there, with absolutely nothing on the agenda for the day, we left our room with a couple of beach towels, our books, and some bottled water, walked out onto the beach, staked our claim at a couple of lounge chairs, and, with the exception of jumping into the ocean for the occasional swim, did nothing but laze around to the sound of the waves for a good eight hours.  It was heaven.  Now if only we could get used to falling asleep to the chirping of the geckos darting across our ceiling, and if only we didn’t have those pesky jobs to return to, I bet we could find a beach-front villa with our name on it (preferably with a bathtub like this one).

Third, I loved being able to get a small taste of Mexican culture while in Sayulita, but there is no denying that this is ultimately a tourist town.  On the one hand, there is comfort in knowing that most shop and restaurant owners know how to speak English, in seeing other Americans crowding the tables of a restaurant and taking that as a sign that the food is ‘Gringo-friendly’.  But I would have liked to have been pushed slightly further out of my comfort zone – to have been forced to recall my bits of broken Spanish, or to have witnessed the customs and traditions that are integral to life in small-village Mexico.  I don’t know exactly what I was looking for, and honestly, I don’t know if we’re quite bold enough to go that far off the beaten path, I just know that there is cultural richness that has been somewhat suppressed in Sayulita.  I guess I want to have my flan and eat it, too – I want all the comforts of a tourist-friendly town, without the presence of all those other tourists…  Nonetheless, the town was still full of charm.  I especially loved the bold use of color – in the storefronts, in the banners strung over the streets, in the beach bags being sold on the sidewalks.  Everywhere I turned, I was greeted with a new shade of orange or blue or gold.  Seattle could take a few lessons from Sayulitans on brightening things up.

And now, as I sit here on the couch, cozied up in a blanket while the rain falls outside, Mexico feels so very far away…  But how blessed we are to have a week’s worth of beach-side memories.