White and Blue

It was Heather's birthday recently. My mom was in town which meant we had an automatic babysitter, so we thought it would be a good idea to do something sans kids. You know, something that we used to do before becoming parents.

We could have done anything. Gone into the city. Gone to a museum. Gone up to the wine country and drank ourselves silly. I left it up to Heather.

Well, being the woman that she is, we went snowshoeing. What a girl. Nothing says "birthday fun" like tramping around for miles in the snow.

In the endless list of "Why California Is The Coolest Damn Place Ever" having the opportunity to get up into the snow region ranks pretty high. I mean, it only takes a couple of hours driving before you find youself in alpine conditions. It could be 70 degrees where we live, but after a little bit of drive, you're up at 9,000 feet in the Sierra Mountains.

I'm sure there is a scientific reason for why the sky spreads out before you at altitude in a jaw-dropping wash of cobalt blue. I don't really care, but I'm glad it exists. I've never seen such blue before moving here. To contrast this deep, dark hue against the white snow is really something.

There also must be a scientific reason as to why dogs go absolutely bonkers once they are let loose in snow. Again, I'm not bothered about the reason, but I loved seeing it happen. We probably hiked 8 miles that day, and that dog of ours did double. Back and forth, back and forth. His running was endless that was only interrupted by an impromptu jump into a snow drift for some kind of weird doggy snowbath.

We walked along with the "shoosh-shoosh" sound of our feet moving across the powder. It was the only sound you heard. You feel like you have the world to yourself. As I looked around the mountains that surrounded us everywhere, I simply felt privileged to be here.

It was like a gift. I can see why Heather wanted to do this on her birthday.

So, Happy Birthday to my wife. A woman that is compelled by the simpler, yet more real, things in life. She doesn't want material things, she wants to experience. That's it. She just wants experience.

We returned home after the sun had set. My mother was on the couch looking suitably tired yet happy to have helped.

Heather and I crept into the boys room and had a look at them. It was a great day. A perfect day.

I am a fortunate man.

Quaking...

BA-BOOOOM!!!

I leapt off the sofa and stood there completely caught off guard and wondered what the hell just happened.

It felt like someone had picked the house up and inch or two and just dropped it.

This is not something you want to experience while lounging around and watching TV at 8:30 on a Thursday evening. The dog fuh-reaked out. Seriously, every single hair was up on his back and he was barking like mad.

BAAAA-BOOOOOOOMMMM!!!

The second quake that hit was stronger. By this point I was running to the boys room. I don't know why, it just seemed like something I should be doing.

As I was running, I briefly glimpsed out the back window into my yard. All of the water in the swimming pool was sloshing around. All 25,000 gallons of it. That was the spookiest part.

And then.......nothing. That was it. In a matter of 10 seconds the house had rocked twice and then everything was quiet again. Except for the dog.

The boys didn't wake up at all through it. After pacing around a bit and checking to see if there were any cracks in the pool walls, I sort of resigned myself to the "California-ness" of it all and settled back into the sofa and carried on watching TV.

I think that's the weirdest part.

Anyway, hang in there California. I don't want you sliding into the Pacific just yet.