Sierra Marlins Stampede

Sierra Marlins sponsored an open-water swim yesterday at Negro Bar, roughly seven miles from the house. Steve and I volunteered to work as timers for the Masters 1/2 mile and 1 mile swims, as well as for the USA swimming competitions (also 1/2 and 1 miles swims), and for the Youth 500 yard swim (kids 8-10).

This is the second year we've worked the event, and we've got it down: I call each swimmer's number (written in black marker on their upper arms), and Steve records their time. It's trickier than you'd think, especially when swimmers wobble up from the water as a bunch -- which they do fairly often -- and we've got to identify numbers that are sometimes smudged, and coming at us at a pretty good clip. But it's great to see the look of accomplishment on the swimmers' faces, and a real treat to be part of the event.

Steve swims with the Marlin Masters each weekday morning at 5:30, and with his Broadstone buds on Sunday. His big open-water event of the year is generally Donner, a 2.7 open-water swim that chews the hide from his skin (cold, cold, cold!). He'd love it if I'd swim too, and I told him as soon as they find a lake that's 90 degrees, I'll definitely be there, babe!

Snakedance

I almost stepped on a common gartersnake during my walk this evening; turns out I saw "him" about the same time he saw "me," and I jumped, elbows akimbo and knees hooked high while he scurried into the brush. I glanced around to ensure no one saw me, knowing I looked pretty geeky. I think the coast was clear.

Sustainable Mango

Just bought a table constructed of sustainable mango.

Sustainable wood is harvested from carefully managed forests, or reclaimed from old buildings and barns, or other wood sources, such as furniture.

To ensure the wood you're buying is sustainable, look for certification, which sometimes comes from a label. Guidelines established by the Forest Stewardship Council (FSC) are the ones most environmental groups trust.

Country Kepner

Here he is, "Country" Kepner, dog-child of Maya and Erich. He's a nine-week-old Labrador retriever, and already knows how to sit! Steve and I now have two grand-dogs, a boy and a girl. I'll meet Miley when I fly to San Diego in October to visit Jena and Jeremy.

Where are the Sandhill Cranes?

Upstairs, my office window is open. I'm waiting for the faraway calls of greater sandhill cranes, signaling their flight over Folsom from eastern Oregon, as they head to the Central Valley, where they'll winter in delta grasslands and marshes.

I'll rush outside the moment I hear them, knowing that even as I peer at the stark blue sky, it will take a few minutes to spot them. And then there they'll be, riding the thermals and singing their songs, and I will breathe again.

Autumn Begins

I haven't been paying attention; the tips of the maple trees have turned pink, and I'm wondering when it happened.

I should have seen it coming, having walked every day last week. But my eyes were on soccer fields and sidewalks and artificial turf, or my chin was tilted downward while my thoughts went everywhere: on the frightening state of publishing and the exit of editors -- one of them from a terrific house considering my historical novel.

My thoughts are scattered. My foots hurts. My oldest daughter is getting married and my youngest just got a dog (they named him "Country" and I've fallen in love; now I want one too). There's a lot to look forward to. And much to think about.

I want to witness the season in all its splendor, inhale the autumn air. I want to crunch acorns beneath my feet and arrange pumpkins on the porch. I want to sip hot cider from a paper cup, and eat a sugar doughnut. I want to see it all, hear it all, taste it all. I don't want to miss a thing.