Laundry and Bravery

It's been one week since we got back from our weekend in the United States, but I only just now opened our suitcase to wash the clothes we wore. Don't make that disgusted face, I've done laundry since then, just not the stuff in the suitcase. In fact, I've been feeling pretty proud of myself for getting so much laundry done, and at the same time confused because none of my favourite shirts were resurfacing. That's when I remembered the suitcase, and the trip. Then I thought, it's probably not too late to blog about it, since the laundry's not done yet.


My father-in-law is a big BMW motorcycle enthusiast, so we all made the trip to Watkins Glen, New York, for the Beemer Rally on Labour Day Weekend. A BMW Rally is like camping, only without the campfire, and with more motorcycles.

The most memorable part of our vacation for me was the day-trip we took to the gorge at Watkins Glen State Park. This basically involved one hour of hiking up a steep stone staircase, beside a gorgeous and terrifying rocky cliff. Now I'm afraid of heights, and that fear is amplified when I'm accompanied by my children. I kept imagining scenarios in which one, or both of my babies fell horribly to their deaths. Each time I thought of this, my eyes watered, and my stomach lurched as if I was falling. My mother-in-law later said that we wouldn't have gone if she'd known I was afraid of heights, but that would have been no fun (it was the most memorable part of our vacation after all).

Besides death and dismemberment, one of my worries is that William will see that I am afraid, and develop a fear of heights himself. So you can imagine my relief, this Saturday, when he gleefully tackled this death-defying leap at the Bronte Creek Playbarn, a drop that made me fearful when I was two or three times his age.

I think his new buzz cut gives him super powers.