A White Christmas

Ever sledded to mass? It's pretty great!
Stocking fun!

Sweet Chiara

Grandma with the girls

Lucy's favorite gift: her Tinkerbell camera!

We enjoyed a beautiful white Christmas! The snow was magical, and Santa's reindeer enjoyed an easy landing on the rooftop. The girls both received exactly what they had requested from Santa.

However, the snow was less convenient for non-reindeer operated vehicles.

While the Loeb grandparents made it to our house for Christmas Eve in their 4WD, it was treacherous. Our trip to St. Agatha's for mass was very sketchy. But worth it for the homily given directly to all of the young children gathered on the steps of the altar. Our favorite quip: when the priest asked the children what the three wise men brought: "Rum!"

Following a wonderful gift opening session on Christmas morning, we headed out to the Buck house for festivities. We made it through the snow and newly-formed ice with only a few frightening moments. The drive was so dangerous that the planned gathering for the extended Buck clan became a celebration for just our immediate family. We missed everyone, but still managed to have a wonderful time. We had several hours of magnificent snowfall that afternoon that added to the festive feeling of Christmas.

Unfortunately, when it was time to leave, our Jeep had a rough time with the snowy ruts. Luckily, Ryan, Dad, and Tom were happy to help Curtis shovel (and shove!) our vehicle out of the snow and into the center of the road for our journey home.

The snow was so plentiful that even the trusty post office (UPS, Fed Ex and garbage service too!) missed most of the week's deliveries. Now they are busy playing catch-up. Which explains why our Christmas cards have not gone out yet....we just received them! But I promise they will be going out soon.

Now the snow has melted and we are left with plain, old, boring rain. I preferred the white stuff. And speaking of white stuff, Miss Mary has her first loose pearly white! We were shocked to learn that children could lose teeth so young, but apparently the sooner their baby teeth come in, the earlier they come out. So, our early teether is eagerly chomping apples, carrots, and cookies hoping that one of these times, her tooth is extracted in the process.

Time to make a tooth fairy pillow!

Snowland

Portland is getting record-breaking snow....we have about two feet and counting. What does two feet of snow look like, you ask? Well, according to Lucy, it looks like everything is pregnant! The snow atop the patio chairs led her to comment, "The chairs are pregnant!"

Curtis made a valiant attempt to ride his bike to work this morning. Futile and almost laughable, but valiant nonetheless. He returned home with pink cheeks, and asked for the Jeep keys. Here's what the Jeep looked like after a few hours out in the driveway. He made it a few blocks, then decided today was a wonderful day to work from home.

Emily and my Dad made it out of Gresham somehow (where they've actually declared a state of emergency because of the deep snow!) and spent the morning playing with us outside. Emily even showed the girls her famous Sitka Snow Cartwheel!

We love being in a walkable neighborhood, where we can borrow a sled to get groceries or to ferry the girls to mass. We just hope the beautiful, bountiful snow allows the whole family to be together on Christmas. In the meantime, we think Portland ought to be renamed Snowland.

One Cozy (and possibly embarrassed) Canine

Today's high was 28. That's Fahrenheit, yes.

Greta spent the morning hiding under the covers in our bed. When we coaxed her to take her daily walk, she shivered the entire way. So, knowing we are opening her (and ourselves) up to all kinds of humiliation, we decided it's time for Greta to have her first sweater.

Fortunately, although many businesses are closed due to snow, our favorite local dog shop was open. We made the chilly, slippery trek with Greta in tow. The salesgirl made me feel much better about the purchase. "She is a very short-haired dog, really, look at her underbelly, no fur at all," she reasoned as she fitted Greta with a lovely mohair sweater. Surprisingly, she didn't put up a fuss. Our gray girl walked proudly home in her new warm coat (graciously accepted three compliments along the way!) and napped cozily in it all afternoon.

However, when I pulled the camera out to take a snapshot, she immediately looked chagrined. One look at her expression and you'll see what I mean. Chagrined, but warmly so.

But, cozy sweater or not, I'd still bet my bottom dollar that she'll be sneaking under our covers again tonight.

Winter Wonderland

Look what greeted us this December morning!

We're supposed to get 3-6 inches throughout the day, and the temperatures are going to drop into the 20s, possibly lower, as the week begins. Brrr..... but beautiful.

Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!

My new best friend

We've been slowly making new friends in Portland. But, sadly, my new best friend is a little tube of epoxy.

It seems that every time I turn around, another sorry toy is in need of repair. The photo captures this week's lucky winners who get to spend an afternoon with me and my pal epoxy in the basement.

Someone please make me feel better. Tell me your house, too, has a Repair Station as busy as the neighborhood body shop.

It's beginning to look a lot like....

Christmas!

This past weekend, we enjoyed a festive trip on an old steam locomotive. It was an amazing engine, and Santa was on board, which made the ride even more exciting. While Grandma Buck and I rode the train with the girls, Papa Buck and Curtis rode their bikes alongside as the train parallelled the trail. Great Grandpa Fisher would have been delighted to see the girls' interest in the old train. His presence was nearly palpable.

After years of buying Oregon Christmas trees from lots down in California, it was exciting this year to chop one down right at the tree farm. It's a beauty, so tall and stately. The girls named it Sebastian, and so far, only three ornaments have been broken due to unbridled excitement of little hands. Our epoxy is definitely getting lots of use these days (more on that soon).

We also celebrated Grandpa Loeb's birthday this past weekend with a new rifle for the birthday boy, deer steak for the hunters, and German chocolate cake for all.

Wet Willies

Our precocious Lucy is truly a handful. She's happy, energetic, smart....but she's also one of those kids who needs to be busy all the time. As a spirited kid, she leads us into many hilarious situations.

While we were in Bend for Thanksgiving, she awoke from her nap one afternoon and gave Curtis an impromptu "wet willy" on his ear. He thought it was pretty humorous, and explained to her what it was called.

Later that afternoon, we took the girls to the mass at St. Francis. Lucy was in rare form (or should I say rarer than usual form?). She wriggled, squirmed, and struggled to stay quiet during mass. She simply couldn't contain herself. I was starting to feel my face turn pink with frustration. Then, Lucy did the unthinkable. She picked up the hymnal, adorned with a picture of Jesus and licked it. She then turned to me proudly with an impish grin and whispered, "I give Jesus a WET WILLY!" I couldn't help but let my frustration dissolve into giggles, turning quickly away from her so that she couldn't see my inappropriate reaction to her act.

After all, isn't that the job of a child? To walk that fine line between making their parents laugh or cry? These days, I'm trying to choose laughter. And with Lucy along for the ride, that choice is often the easy one.

Oh...and to those of you who are gasping in horror at the sacrilege, don't worry. After mass. we explained that wet willies are not very respectful. (But we're also sure God has a sense of humor...after all, he gave us Lucy, didn't he?)

Leftovers

Mary and Becca with their Gingerbread creation.

The chef, putting the finishing touches on the Thanksgiving feast.
Papa and Lucy in a post-turkey snooze.

Over the mountain and through the high desert, to the Bahrman house we went.

We had a wonderful Thanksgiving celebration in Bend with both sets of parents and Amy & Tom and cousins Chiara and Becca. True to her Martha Stewart tendencies, Amy created the most bountiful, beautiful feast. So, we feasted and feasted. For days. Delicious pumpkin muffins, tasty bolognese, spicy shrimp enchiladas, homemade fig jam and proscuitto paninis, and more Bahrman-specialty lattes than the Starbucks mermaid herself. (You're salivating, aren't you?)

During our long weekend, we enjoyed a trip to the High Desert Museum, a clear evening watching Santa light Bend's Christmas tree, and even the construction of a Gingerbread house (albeit a bit unstable without our resident engineer's oversight).

Thanksgiving left us not only with the usual bounty of leftovers, but also lingering joy and gratitude for a wonderful visit.

Celebrations

Mom, Mary, and Maria

With the bride

Elijah, Curtis, Megan, Hanna, and Yuki

This weekend, we headed to the Emerald City for the wedding reception of my childhood friend, Mary. She was married in the Emerald Isle (Ireland) at a gorgeous castle a few weeks ago. Sadly, we missed the Irish marriage, but there was no way we would miss the Seattle celebration. Mary was a beautiful bride, decked out in the cutest kelly-green shoes you've ever seen, and it was wonderful to see many of the old neighbors from our childhood cul-de-sac.

I couldn't help but remember the hours and hours that Mary and I spent together baking cookies, reading stories, and climbing trees. It's hard to believe we are now the age that our parents were when we did all of those things.

The morning after the reception, we had breakfast with Curtis' college friends, Elijah and Yuki. Elijah works at U of W in biology, and it was the first time we'd seen him since our wedding seven years ago! Yuki lives in Tokyo and just happened to be visiting the states, so it was a wonderful coincidence to be in Seattle the same weekend and have a chance to see her.

Meanwhile, the girls had a grand time back at home with the grandparents, decorating gingerbread cookies and painting toenails and playing with baby dolls. A great weekend. Oh, and the sun was shining!

The only thing missing was a stop at the Ol' Curiosity Shoppe to see Sylvester (Mom's favorite perfectly preserved mummy). Maybe next time.

Facetime

The girls playing in the snow at Timberline Lodge.
Heather and I with the girls at Mt. Hood. This photo was taken by my high school calculus teacher, who we ran into while up at the mountain for lunch, leaving Heather to conclude, with no doubts at all, that Portland really is a SMALL place!

It's true what they say, old friends are the very best friends. This past weekend, my pal Heather came north for a visit. We've been friends for 15 years and stood at each other's sides as we've married, had children and experienced life's joys and struggles. We've seen each other at least weekly. That is, until I moved away in May.

Moving is hard logistically. Coordinating a house sale, job searching, and countless other factors. But, moving is even harder emotionally. Saying goodbye to the friends you see regularly and replacing in-person chats for emails and phone calls. It takes its toll.

We've been lucky to form budding new friendships and to rediscover old friendships here in Portland. But a weekend with Heather reminded me how refreshing it is to be with a friend who knows you almost as well as you know yourself. One who knows your children and is happy to have lunch with your squirming toddler on her lap, or give your preschooler a time-out when she needs it. One who can ask the big questions and who isn't afraid to offer her true opinion on the new rug in the living room. It was a wonderful weekend.

Now that she's back in California, it's back to emails and calls. Today, we were chatting online and she wrote, "I like that I can picture where you are right now." It's true: now she's toured my new world here in Portland, she's seen our new house, she knows where my laptop is perched in the kitchen as I exchange text with her. And that, along with our great chats over the weekend, will help tide me over until the next visit. But how good it was to get some in-face time as a supplement to the past six months of typeface time!

Firsts....and Lasts

Last night, Mary went to bed with a glove over her left hand, in an effort to prevent her from sucking her beloved thumb. We've tried this trick before, and previously, when I've gone in around 11pm for one last cover-up and kiss, I've found the glove on the floor and Mary contently sucking her thumb. But, last night, it was still on. And this morning, it remained, as well. Our first success! She was so proud of herself that she even announced the news to her teacher at school.

This afternoon, we went from celebrating firsts to recognizing lasts. My director called to tell me that, due to budget cutbacks, she was losing her entire staff in a layoff. Including, of course, me. I was not surprised about my fate, as I was only working a limited number of hours remotely. But, it's very sad to be losing her other staff members, who are so talented and bright. I hope and pray that they will find challenging, new positions soon. And, it's pure melancholy that my incredible, supportive director is now burdened with the work of an entire department.

I will miss my projects and most of all, the people. But, the fact that I survived 12 years in Silicon Valley without getting laid off was pretty amazing. So, even this last is a first.

And, now, if you aren't confused enough by the first/last flopping, we're on to another first: for the first time ever, I get to be a full-time, stay-at-home mom, something I've dreamt of for a very long time. A little scary, but mostly very exciting. Let all of the cliche jokes now ensue about who is bringing home the bacon (or elk, as the case may be!) and who is barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen (or just barefoot, as the case may be!). I think I can take 'em! I think.... oh, wait, first let me dust off my proudly well-worn feminist overcoat. Okay, now I'm ready.

Finally, one more (I promise, last one!) first: Happy FIRST birthday to our pal Liam. Wishing you all kinds of cake-smashing celebration!

Baptismal waters

After our cousin Chiara was submersed in baptismal waters on Sunday, the girls decided they needed to be baptised, too. They chose a puddle in the driveway.

Though our camera was forgotten at home, Sunday's baptism of sweet little Chiara was a beautiful picture. Good natured, sweet baby Chiara was a champ through the whole mass. The priest invited all children to come to the steps in front of the altar to see the two baptisms. Lucy and Mary sat nicely on the steps, watching the first baby get dunked in the waters. However, as soon as Lucy saw Chiara and all of us (parents and Godparents and sis Becca) approaching for Chiara's turn, she jumped up, reached her hands out and squealed, "Baby Key-ya-ya!" and scrambled up to the font to be part of the baptism. Tom goodnaturedly explained, "and cousins, too!"

A spectacular celebration. And, speaking of spectacular, check out the view from our sunroom. Aren't the fall colors incredible?

Improv & the Big Sky State

Mary is growing by leaps and bounds this fall. She's beginning to read (using that verb with significant leeway), and loves to "read" everything to us, even if she only recognizes the letters and not the correct pronunciation of the letters strung into a word.

That has led to some comical improvisation. For example, her class created invitations for the parents for a Thanksgiving feast. Mary proudly read me the invitation, "Come enjoy pumpkin bread and Slider." Now, Fr. Slider is our priest at St. Agatha's, where Mary goes to preschool, so perhaps she thought he would be a special guest? The invitation actually read, "Come enjoy pumpkin bread and cider."

And, last night, we were treated to more of the Mary Improv Show. Being the imaginative artist she is, she drew two hearts, cut them out, and attached them to a thin strip of paper as butterfly wings. The butterfly was spectacular. But, Mary felt something was missing. She pointed to the butterfly's little head and said, "Mom, he needs some Montanas!" "What?" "Montanas on his head...you know, those little head tails."

Now, clearly, Aunt Nikki and Uncle Ryan have been remiss in educating Mary that Montana is their glorious Big Sky state, not the little "head tails" on a butterfly. Good thing they are coming home for Christmas. Perhaps during their visit, they can set Mary straight and restore some dignity to Big Sky Country.

A Cinderella Story

Regardless of political affiliation, we all must rejoice that racial equality has improved to such levels in this nation.

Earlier tonight, I was explaining to Mary that this election is historic because it is the first time an African American could be our president. I gave her a brief history of our country, and explained the sad circumstances of many Africans becoming African Americans. Slavery is a heavy subject for a four year old, so I tried to simplify it by saying that they were forced to do all of the chores, including the cooking and the cleaning.

About an hour after our conversation, a thoughtful Mary piped up, "Mom, this election is just the same as Cinderella. She had to do all the chores, too!"

A Cinderella Story, indeed. And a very proud moment for our country.

Tricks AND Treats

It's been a week of tricks and treats.

Tricks: found out my annoying, persistent cough is actually a touch of pneumonia. Who knew? Fortunately, it not severe and a round of antibiotics is now playing Superman to fight the demons. Speaking of demons, we also discovered that our hot tub caused all of us to get a lovely rash, either from the chemicals or a leftover wee beastie of some sort. Plans are in place to drain the tub, get a new filter, and go back to the pool store for a different batch of treatment chemicals. Or, perhaps drain it, get rid of it, and go back to being non-tubbing folk again.

Treats: And speaking of superheros, Curtis (aka Spiderman) is out with the girls for the goblin brigade. Mary was all dressed up as an angel and Lucy was the cutest pumpkin in the world. Then, ten minutes before departure, I found them stripping off their costumes to become a fairy and a ballerina. As they say, it's a woman's prerogative to change her mind.

While they've been gone, over 50 children have already knocked on our door...and it's only 7pm! I'm hoping we don't run out of candy. The only downside of having tons of children in the neighborhood!

Happy Halloween to all our goblin pals!

Harvest Happenings

I've been afraid to even mention this, yet I jinx us, but here I go: we've been enjoying the most wonderful weather-- crisp, clear and gorgeous! The good weather has allowed us to take advantage of all kinds of fall treasures. First, the harvesting of our first squash from our garden and our sunflower seeds.

Next, the Monster March, a fun neighborhood parade with thousands of costumed kids. We were in awe of the sheer number of kids in our neighborhood. The grandparents came with us as we marched in the parade with our favorite goblins.

Finally, the clear skies have given us a chance to try out our hot tub. When we bought the house, the hot tub was a big detraction because we aren't really spa fans and we were concerned about safety. But, we decided, if it's here, we might as well use it. So, we filled it with new water and plopped the kids in. They loved splashing around under the nighttime stars!

God is my co-pilot (or was that Dog?)

A conversation overheard while the girls were in bed waiting to fall asleep:


Lucy, calmly: "We be quiet in church so that we can listen to Dog."

Mary, emphatically: "You mean God!"

Lucy, calmly: "Yes, Dog!"

Mary, sternly: "No, not Dog. Greta is a Dog. GOD!"

Lucy, calmly: "Yes, Mary, Dog! That's what I said."

Mary, frustrated, "I give up! God Bless you and Good Night!"

Lucy: "Dog Bless you, too!"

Have you heard the news?

Today, while biking home from preschool, Mary asked me, "Did you read the news in the paper this morning?" And I replied, "Yes." Mary said, "Isn't it sad? The news that Emma's grandfather died." And I asked, "Emma from your class?"


And she repeated, "Yes. It was in the news." And so I inquired, "Who was her grandfather?" thinking he must have been a public figure to have his death make the news. And Mary said, "Mom, I told you. He was Emma's grandfather." And I said, "Well, why was he in the news?"


To which she replied indignantly, "Because he died! Our teacher said she got the news today that Emma's grandfather died and we all said a prayer for him."

While I was trying to decide how to explain to Mary the multiple definitions for the phrase "the news," she asked if she could call her grandfathers to see if they heard the news and make sure they were not dead. She figured that if I didn't get the news about Emma's grandfather, I might be missing other news stories, as well.

Fortunately, Mary's grandfathers are happy to avoid any news coverage of that variety for a very, very, very long time.

Van Loebgh

A little Mary art on this beautiful blue-skied afternoon. Mary's self portrait (which personally, I think beats Van Gogh's own version) and little sister Lucy (not quite as accurate given that her hair appears straight here, which we all know is not possible for Lu's locks).

Pumpkins and Paternity

Today, we trekked to Sauvie Island in search of pumpkins. While there, we rode in a tractor-pull to the pumpkin patch. A real pumpkin patch, mind you.

Now, good old Joan's Pumpkin Patch in Livermore was an elegantly arranged field of hay bales with pre-picked pumpkins. The Portland version is more authentic. A real pumpkin patch where pickers pluck their pumpkin finds directly from the vine. And where pumpkin hunters also have to step over rotten pumpkins, tromp in muddy rows, and push back vines to reach that perfect find. The girls loved it.

While on the tractor ride, I smiled at the other moms. One of the moms smiled back, staring at Mary and Lucy, and then started into the by-now-familiar inquisition that goes like this:

Stranger: "They are cute...are they sisters?"

Me: "Yes."

Stranger: "They really have different coloring, don't they?"

Me: "Yes."

Stranger, this time with awkward hesitation: "Do they have the same father?"

Me: "Yes. And the same mother, too."

The first time this happened about six months ago, I was blown away. Now, I find it rather humorous. We are taken through this questionnaire at least one time a week, which I've nicknamed the Paternity Poll. I guess today it could be called the Pumpkin Patch Paternity Poll.

Puddletown

Just as we suspected, 'it' has arrived. The gloomy, wet weather. It started raining on Thursday and hasn't let up yet.

Fortunately, the girls don't mind one bit. They love riding their bikes through the puddles, shouting, "Rooster Tail!" as the water spouts up behind them.

Greta, on the other hand, has to be shoved out the door. She does her business as quickly as possible and then bolts back inside, shivering. Poor Greta needs to grow some thicker fur to survive the winter. Right now it's just wet. Soon it will be wet AND cold!

All of you still wearing your flip flops and tank tops, we miss you. Please give your friend, Mr. Sun, our best regards.

Lost...and Found

When we returned from Crater Lake, we noticed that Mary's bike was missing from our corral of bikes and strollers in our carport. Mysteriously, our stroller, Lucy's bike, and Curtis' bike were untouched, though all are much more valuable than Mary's bike, which we bought second-hand at the local bike shop.

We were shocked to think that somebody would steal it. We hoped it would turn up, but we had to break the news to Mary in case it didn't. Mary braved it well and put on a strong face, only commenting that she hoped her new bike was purple, also, and just as fast.

Then, the next morning, we were walking back from the park when I spied something. There, one block from home, was Mary's bike, sitting in the strip between the street and the sidewalk. It seemed in good condition, her "MARY" nameplate still hanging from the back. One of the training wheels was bent, rendering it unride-able. But, otherwise, it looked fine. We rescued it and brought it back home.

So, now it's your turn to help us guess what happened:

Scenario A: The hot September winds carried the bike down our driveway, where it was kicked around until some kind soul put it up out of harm's way.

Scenario B: A preschooler took the bike for a joyride and abandoned it a block away before his/her parents noticed.

Scenario C: A would-be thief tried to steal the bike and while using the stolen property as a getaway vehicle, busted the training wheel and had to abort his plan.

Or, perhaps you'd like to offer up Scenario D?

Peaks and Valleys

For Curtis' birthday, we traveled to Crater Lake for the weekend to join my parents and my sister Amy and her family. Traveling with little ones is always an adventure. We literally and figuratively went through peaks and valleys during the three-day adventure.

On the way there, we stopped at the infamous Rice Hill ice cream drive-in. (It's a bit of a tradition that you must stop there anytime you head south on I-5 through Roseburg.) An hour later, as we were rounding the many curves to Crater Lake National Park, Mary began to feel carsick. Mary's pink peppermint ice cream reappeared as a fountain of sickness. I don't know about Mary, but I can tell you that I'll never be able to eat peppermint ice cream again.

Finally, we arrived at the lake around 6pm, to enjoy a gorgeous scene. We sat in the rocking chairs on the veranda, soaking up the view. And then we learned that the restaurant's next reservation was for 9:30pm. Curtis, ever the problem-solver, concluded that we would just order from the bar menu on the veranda. Except that the veranda was a quiet, serene place with rocking chairs and grown-ups sipping wine and gazing at the lake. And our children, cooped up in the car all day, were wound up like springs. So, we decided to head to our hotel room upstairs in the lodge and have the appetizers delivered there. As the server brought the giant tray of food into our room he said, "Hmm...so this is what the rooms look like." We said, "Haven't you been in them before?" To which he replied, "No, we really don't deliver food to the rooms. This is a first here in this hotel." Oops.

Saturday morning, we did a hike around the rim of the lake with the children. Thanks to careful (and quick!) grandparents, we managed to keep Lucy from going over the sheer cliff to the lake. In the afternoon, Grandma Buck babysat the girls so that we could climb Garfield Peak (a hike which had too many sheer drop-offs for little children who run as fast as Lucy and Mary). It was a gorgeous hike, led by Amy and Tom's daughter Becca who fearlessly forged the trail and reached the top ten minutes ahead of the rest of us.

Saturday night was one of those nights that makes us wonder if we'll wait until the girls are teenagers before we travel with them again. Lucy awoke at 11pm gasping and hyperventilating. After a few scary hours, we were able to calm her down and get her breathing back to normal. What followed was a restless night, with much tossing and turning. We weren't sure whether it was the elevation (the lodge is at 7,100 ft.) or the cold she was developing that night, or a combination of both. But it was truly frightening...and exhausting.

Sunday, we enjoyed a morning hike to Watchman Peak, with both kids safely strapped in carriers. Again, it was a beautiful, blue skied day to show off a glorious bluer-than-blue Crater Lake.

On the ride home, we drove through Bend and enjoyed lunch by the Deschutes River with the family. From there, we went to Gresham to pick up Greta, who spent the weekend with the Loebs since dogs are not allowed at Crater Lake. The Loebs reported that Greta was a good Catholic. "A good Catholic?" we asked. Afraid to leave her home alone in her nervous state, they brought her with them to church. Not in the parking lot. In the church. Apparently, she still has trouble making the sign of the cross, but she did sit through mass without making a peep, which is more than we can say for Lucy these days. "But, of course, we didn't take her up to receive communion," Jim joked. Thank heavens. St. Francis would have approved, but we aren't sure Fr. Charles felt the same.

All in all, a grand adventure and well worth the valleys to experience the peaks. That being said, next time, we pray for fewer valleys and more peaks.

La Playa

We know it is coming. "It" being the cold, rainy, damp autumn.

But, fortunately, graciously, the weather gods are being kind to these sunny-weather-loving transplants. The summer weather continues as though the calendar pages are still in July.

Wanting to take advantage of every bright blue-skied day left in the season, we escaped to the beach for the day.

We spread out a blanket and spent the entire day building sandcastles and letting the waves splash over our toes.