I am not sure how things happen but they do and they always work out. There is a quote that I remember from the book Of Mice and Men, "Good intentions of mice and men often go astray."  I have no idea why this particular quote has stuck with me all these years but it has.  I never really liked the book too much.  It seemed negative to me. See I believe in happy endings.  I want to come away from a book with feeling good.  There is enough sadness in the world. I do realize that there are sad, or tragic stories that need to be told.  I just like stories that have happier endings. However I feel about that issue it's just side stepping the adventure we've had. Sundays tend to be days that we have friends over or send our kids out to friends' houses or we have family adventures. Today was the last kind of day only not as planned. It was a beautiful day in the Pacific Northwest, one that calls to  people to enjoy the outdoors. We live in one of the most beautiful places in the world. Isaac opted to stay home because he wasn't feeling well but I'm sure football has something to do with it. Kidding. The rest of us after I took a nap loaded up the boat with towels, snacks, lifejacks, and innertubes. We headed out to the lake for possibly the last day on the water for the year. We put our boat in the water and pushed off.  The motor started like always and we were off.  As soon as we were out of the no wake zone, we dumped the tube in the water and the kids hopped on. They are so light that the tube can hold them both and even Isaac when he's around. We did donuts, we hit waves, we circled left, circled right, and Job flew off into the water.  Out again and we did that all over again.  We made our way to the south end of the lake enjoying the day and the place. We talked and snacked on fresh plums picked only hours before. The water was calm, perfect for wakeboarding and skiing.  Job grabbed the paddle (never leave home without a paddle) and hopped on the tube to paddle around while Lona wake boarded.  I think he likes a little independence.  She practiced her butter turns and jumping the wake. We took a couple of runs around the area and headed back to Job. She was getting a little tired but had one more run in her before Job's turn to ski.  We turned off the motor, had Job hop in and pulled in the tube.  Lona was ready to go when John turned the key on the boat and nothing but a click. He tried again and again. He checked the connection to the battery, He checked the spark plug connections. Nothing. The motor wouldn't even turn over. We were at the south end of the lake with our 17 foot boat, and one paddle. He started paddling towards a group of boats.  I took a turn while he looked at the engine some more. A boat came over but they weren't headed in our direction. Another boat came over and they weren't either however they did agree to tow us to the main channel where we could flag a boat going to the other end of the lake. As we were being towed, we saw the sheriff's boat. We were rescued.  We started waving our flag like crazy!  They were headed straight towards us. Oh what a relief and then they turned around and headed towards another boat. What?  Didn't they see our flag, are we going to have to chase them down? No they made their way towards us and asked us our problem. They were so nice.  They had us put our life jackets on, hook the tow rope to cleat on our bow and off we went back to the other side of the lake. It was unbelievable how fast that boat can go.  Two 250 horsepower engines, that boat put ours up on a plane.  We practically flew across the water. Once they pulled us into the dock, the kids jumped out and took "selfies" with our rescuers.  We laughed the whole way back. The kids thought is was great and loved being towed in.  We could have been upset, we could have gotten angry, it could have ruined the day. However we had fun, we went on an adventure it just didn't end as planned but that is the definition of an adventure.  Our intentions were well planned but they went astray and it was good anyway.

Freedom, a privilege, a tool, a help, a responsibility, a status symbol.  We are so blessed here and yet take it for granted that this is normal. Every since Isaac got his driver's licence I have used it to help me out.  I see the freedom and help that it has given me. Isaac can drive his siblings to the soccer field and I can stay at home. This allows me to have a Saturday morning to get organized and plan out the day. He can drop Lona off at the carpool spot and pick her up while I go to small group.  I have the freedom to get my hair cut on a sports day, which in the fall, winter and spring is every weekday and many weekends. I have the help needed when I need to meet someone to drop off stuff and still get our homeschooling done.  I have help getting a few groceries or turn in an order form. Isaac may think that he has freedom but really I am seeing more freedom on my end. This year, I need to pick Job up from the high school and transport him to the middle school every "gold" day. When these days fall on Tuesday and Thursday, Isaac can do it this quarter and that helps me out.  I am not sure that I could have survived this school year with out Isaac being a driver and taking Running Start classes. I am grateful and blessed to have this freedom and help.

September, can you really be here now? Can you really be ushered in with rain and cooler days. Can you really make me say goodbye to summer? I am not ready for you yet. I am not ready for the flurry of activity in the morning and afternoon into evenings. September you are a fresh start to the year, yet that new year is supposed to be in January but here you are saying, "new schedules, new clothes, new books, new,new,new." A new chance to set goals you say.  September let me just slow down and ease into your season. Let me grab a cup of coffee and enjoy the mornings of sweaters and socks, but you say "quick the bus, the lunch, the sports gear." "Quick, the grocery store, the dentist, the dance class." "Quick you say the leaves are falling, the flowers have faded, the evening is descending earlier." No please, let's slow down I beg you September.  I don't want to see Halloween stuff or Thanksgiving stuff and definitely not Christmas stuff. Let's slow down and crunch the leaves as we walk down the sidewalk. Let's eat the zucchini still growing in the garden. Let's take time to wait for the train to pass counting all the cars. Let's still wear shorts and soak up the last warm rays of sunshine as we walk through the grass in our bare feet because we pealed off our socks at lunch.  Let's still enjoy the little bit of summer left and not charge in like a bull. September each year it seems as though you dash in quickly throwing around to do lists.  Let me ease into you, just dipping my toe in little by little getting used to the waves of activity, but that isn't you is it September.  You are a demanding month, roaring and eager and shouting.  You wash over me as a giant wave in the ocean sweeping me along whether I want to or not, laughing saying "Ready or not, here we go."  So I take a deep breath and jump into you, realizing that somehow I'll come out swimming along with everyone else.

I quickly open my eyes and then moan, rolling over and pulling up the blankets. My eyes are closed, my mind feels closed as well but we've plans and it doesn't involve staying in bed.  John rolls over and intertwines his legs with mine and throws his arms over my body. Good morning he whispers.  I groan and keep my eyes closed. If I stay here maybe the alarm hasn't woken me up. If I stay here, maybe just maybe my mind will wake up ready for the day but it isn't to be.  See we've planned on biking in Seattle.  There are trails close to home, in fact right here in our home town and the county just south has a great trail as well. However we've planned on a trail in Seattle.  I stumble into the shower and then downstairs for the desperately needed cup of coffee. A little real life is thrown into our morning with grumpy kids, arguing, discipline and some of that without grace. All have apologized and we are off to a family adventure with a stop for a new helmet and more bike locks. We are the type of family to drive 80 plus miles to bike 15 miles. Why? It doesn't make sense. We live in a beautiful area but we do crazy things. The five of us squish into the small extended cab of the truck with the bikes hanging over the edge of the bed on each side. We talk, we argue, we get on each other's nerves just to bike 15 miles. Am I stinking nuts? Maybe, quite possibly. We find our way to Golden Garden Park. It's right on the sound, with a sandy beach, compete with volleyball courts, a grassy area, a boat launch and public restrooms.  The last is probably the most important. This trail that we decided to ride goes all the way from the Sound to Redmond. I think that round trip it's 54 miles.  We being woefully out of bike shape could never make it that far. We haul the bikes out of the truck, grabbing helmets, water bottles, leaving jackets and after a pit stop we finally make it to the trail.  Except we really don't know where the trail is. We know the general direction and head that way until we stumble upon it. A quick stop because Isaac's chain has come off and we continue, We go past abandoned tracks, we go past graffiti fences, which Lona says is make-up for trains. We go past concrete buildings with beautiful flowers and rebar as a fence. We bike along the canal and a draw bridge that goes up and down until we get to the locks. Everyone calls them the Ballard Locks because they are in Ballard but they are actually called Hiram Chittendon Locks. I had taken the kids maybe four or five years ago here and have always wanted to come back.  We spend time watching the boats enter and exit the locks. The workers are harnessed in and toss lines after calling out instructions to each skipper. The boats range from yachts that cost more than our house to kyakers.  We could spend hours there just watching a marvel of modern engineering. We can only manipulate our created world. We see fish in the fish ladder but our stomachs are yelling at us, feed me. A stop in the visitors center is extremely helpful as I am given a bike map.  The trail merges with street traffic at this point and doesn't pick up as a designated trail for another mile, mile and a half. Right outside this the locks is a "world famous" fish and chips restaurant.  Job or Lona pointed out the irony of making a fish ladder to help the fish and now we are eating fish. Protect them so we can eat them. I guess that is how it works. We continue on only this time weaving through pedestrians and traffic until we come to Ballard Avenue where I want to spend time photographing the street, the people, the buildings but we are on a mission. We find the trail again and continue on past Gas Works Park, past the wall of death, and to the University of Washington. A couple of weeks ago, we drove past it and I wasn't impressed but upon riding through campus it is another story. The buildings look as if they are castles and they tower over the people with almost a haughty tone saying "this is a place of higher learning, only the most qualified are allowed here." The fountain at the center reminds me a little of ones I would find in Europe and the grounds are kept in beautiful shape. But we have more to see so onward and to the stadium where we look in, then around the stadium and onto the path once more.  Finally we decide at no particular place to stop for snacks.  The kids head of to a Circle K while John and I discuss continuing or turning back. We turn back. We've gone as far as we want. With the kids we discuss the trail, our favorite parts so far.  It's something we do, we recap what we've liked on all our outings and roadtrips. It gives me insight as to watch catches their minds. We turn around and ride with me bringing up the rear.  You see I want to stop and take photos, I want to take time to notice the little things and document them and riding Isaac's cheap piece of blah, I can pedal has hard as possible and still not keep up with them. So I take my time and enjoy the rode, jumping off my bike when something catches my eyes. We arrive back at the truck and the kids are clamoring for McDonalds.  I just can't do that and feel like pizza instead. Siri, where is the closet pizza place and we are given two different restaurants. I choose the snootiest sounding one and off we go.  Isaac doesn't want to walk in. He feels like we are under dressed in shorts and t shirts. We peak in the window and there are fine white table cloths and beautiful stemware on the tables. Yep, I think this is perfect. We walk in and are ushered to the patio area which I'm immediate love.  The floor is cobblestones not cement, there are velvet curtains, hop and grapevines growing over trellises, fountains running, small intimate wooden tables and wicker chairs. It is cozy and comfortable and we are not under dressed. We order pizza that sits lightly in our stomachs, a beer and a glass of wine and we are ready to drive 80 miles again to go home. We recap again the day, our favorite parts are the locks and the restaurant.  The surprises are Isaac losing a bike pedal, how absolutely terrible his bike is, the size of the restaurant, the number of people and variety of people on the trail. The wishes are to come back and stop and look around on Ballard Avenue, to go through the botanical garden by the locks, and to return to the restaurant that surprised us.