adventures of a canoelover

I found another odonate site.

The Ninth Annual Order of Wisconsin River Lovers (OWL) Trip is coming soon, September 26-27, 2008.

My sweet kids got me this cool firepit for last year’s father’s day.

Ian had his second Cross Country invitational this season. It is an inspiring sight, seeing all those kids getting psyched, channeling all the hard work and training into 20-25 minutes of pure, honest effort. It is a family atmosphere, and everyone cheers for everyone. They just cheer a little louder for their school.

From the elite sub-20 finishers to the last struggling, straggling freshman, everyone is in the same family. They are bound together by a culture, and since the root of the meaning of the word religion is “to bind together,” it does fit in here perfectly…it is a religion as much as a sport.

One of the fun things about XC folks is the variety of positive messages on their t-shirts. They’re usually one of a few themes.

First, Cross Country is harder than your sport. That’s because with a few exceptions, most sports have breathers. Football players exert themselves for 10-15 seconds, then rest for 30. Most of the high school kids I saw today could run circles around most professional football players (especially linemen).

Second, some sort of “if you can read this, you’re behind me.” Those taunting messages are more common on young women, interestingly. Probably because they are way more likely to print things on their posterior region.

Third, something inspirational; about finding your limits and exceeding them. These are my favorites. They can be considered trite, but I can tell you that from observing coaches, parents and runners, they all believe this. You are better than you think you are and you can do more than you think you can. If everyone could absorb that into their brains, what sort of world would this be? Probably a lot better one.

These are good kids, the sort you want your kids to hang out with. The XC parties are pretty sedate — cases of Sprecher root beer and massive quantities of pasta in all forms. No alcohol. A pretty decent crowd of folks playing Wii, usually DDR. Lots of laughing and goofing around. And they end early…last night’s party was wrapping up around nine so people could get to bed by ten.

Anyway…Ian had a great race, took a minute off his personal best on a tough, hilly course and felt good about it. His friend Brandon did very well too, so they were both pretty high on life after the meet. We took them to Culvers and they ate like boys eat after a XC Meet.

I’m awfully proud of my boy. He had a tough freshman year in XC, but he hung in there, was helped a lot by his buddy Brandon, who is a year ahead of Ian and has another year of experience. He talks to Ian about how to train better, about pacing and strategy in a race, and about perserverence and tenacity. In short, a good peer coach, and I think the world of Brandon. He’s had a tough home life but you’d never know it from his demeanor, always cheerful and positive. He has been and will continue to be a great friend to Ian, I’m sure.
Mom was proud too.

Respectfully submitted,

Canoelover

Thought you might like a new wallpaper picture for your desktop.

…that tell everyone to work as a team, follow their dreams, etc.?

Me too. That’s why I love despair.com.

But it gets better. Now you can make your own posters. Like this one:

…or this one…

Wishing you hours of enjoyment,

Canoelover

More on the stolen paddle…

So Carl, the guy that owns the apartment building where I liberated the paddle last Monday dropped by the shop today.

I told him the details of the paddle liberation…the stealthy approach…the getaway car in place…the quick retreat. I told him about returning the paddle and placing the twenty bucks on the grip.

Carl started laughing…he didn’t even miss the paddle for the few hours it was gone. Indeed, he chastised me for not stealing both of them and keeping them. He was completely flummoxed by the sudden appearance of a twenty affixed to a couple of seven dollar paddles.

So I guess it all worked out in the end. Carl is bringing me the paddles the next time he comes to town. I will definitely keep one as a memento of my career as a thief and scoundrel.

Ian planted a Monkshood plant, which has lovely flowers and is very poisonous. I think he got the idea from Cadfael, a PBS Mystery series about a crusader turned monk/herbalist. Whatever the reason, it flourished and now has died back, leaving stalks and seedpods. I think we’ll be seeing more Monkshood next year.

I was going to trim back the stalks last weekend but was lazy. Now I am glad, as two Ruby Meadowhawks (Sympetrum rubicundulum) were hanging out on the top of the stalks this afternoon. Two males, still dogfighting periodically, mostly were sitting on the tops of the stalks, pretty much oblivious to me except when I actually touched one to see if he would perch on my fingers, like damselflies often will. Nothing doing, they’d take off, hover, and set down again in the same spot. I put my finger in place of a stalk, and they’d land on a different stalk.

So if you’re tempted to clean up your yard, here’s a good reason not to.

Happy September,

Canoelover