Stories From Seattle

We finally worked it out: a weekend for me to go to Seattle for a few days to take care of my nieces while Erik & Pam go out on a weekend date.


Airport Adventure

My usual plan of parking in economy outside the airport garage was thwarted by an unexpected closure of that section. After finally finding a spot, unloading my two bags, and running to the shuttle stop to barely catch the shuttle, I realized this was just the beginning of the shuttle’s tour. And I forgot to note what section I was parked in. Oh well. I’ve never had a problem before.

I told the security officer ushering passengers into their respective lines that my flight was leaving in 10 minutes, and she muttered something friendly about seeing what we could do, made a token movement towards her fellow TSA officer at the front of the line, and then lost the thought and went right back to sorting the arriving passengers into their appropriate lines. She was fulfilling an essential role, and the airport would certainly fall into chaos and mayhem if she distracted herself with my trivial time problem. I was, fortunately, waved through the security line by some very helpful, jovial women who appealed to the nicety of the others in line who, in turn, begrudgingly forced compliant smiles as they waved me on.

I arrived at the security checkpoint and swiftly removed as much as decency laws allow, hoping to ensure a smooth passage through the metal detectors. “Bag check! Bag check!” Somebody’s bag was apparently in need of a thorough manhandling. Nobody responded. The TSA officer had to stop scanning bags to do it himself. My flight was scheduled to leave in two minutes.

I was welcomed over to the other line by another polite lady, and I was through and running as soon as I had my shoes back on, my laptop tucked away, and my bag of liquids re-packed. As I arrived at the gate, I saw my plane out the window. “Sorry, they closed the doors three minutes ago,” the lady behind the counter informed me, surely with a touch of satisfaction. Drat. OK, I sat down and played Lemmings on my laptop, waiting for the next flight out in 50 minutes, which actually only arrived 25 minutes later because it was a direct flight. Not a bad deal. I should try this running-up-to-the-gate-at-the-last-minute-to-barely-miss-my-flight thing more often when the direct flights cost more. No. Bad.


Getting to Seattle

Twenty minutes later, Clint walked up and sat down next to me. I thought he had already left Utah to go back to Seattle, so that was a pleasant surprise. We chatted in the airport and on the plane, and I headed off to meet Zeke for lunch in Bellevue after our arrival at Sea-Tac. Lunch was good. I have yet to find Thai food in Utah that can rival Seattle’s random hole-in-the-wall places. And I had forgotten how engaging our conversations can be. We packed a lot of talk into a brief lunch.


Nannying Begins

An hour and a half later, Erik and Pam were on their way to their weekend date, and I was rushing Kayla and Elleny off to pick up Julia from her friend’s birthday party, and her friend’s dad answered the door with his shirt on backwards (it was a backwards party) and asked if we were staying or picking up. Upon informing him we were there to haul her away, he said we might have to drag her ‘cause the party was going for another hour. Great. Fifteen minutes on the job, and I’m already the incompetent uncle botching things up. Kayla borrowed a swimming suit and stayed to play on the huge inflatable water slide castle while Elleny and I went to rent a couple of movies for the weekend.

Back at the house, while I cooked spaghetti, Kayla worked on her Zoo Tycoon zoo and Julia and Elleny jumped on the trampoline. We ate dinner and watched Underdog, which wasn’t as horrifically bad as I had expected (but was definitely a one-timer), and while the movie finished, I attempted to make chocolate chip cookies using their sometimes-semi-functional oven. They turned brown fast and cooked unevenly (the bottom burner is out), but with the little extra butter I threw in, they were perfect doughy/crispy cookies to eat with vanilla ice cream. So that’s exactly what we did, with a dollop of cookie dough in each bowl. Yum.


No, That's Not Jam

Then Kayla needed something to drink. Little did I know this was about to become a kid-sitter’s nightmare. I offered to grab her some water, but she wanted milk and said she’d get it. Normally, this would be fine. She’s perfectly capable of getting her own milk. But it’s funny how a seemingly small thing like an unfortunately located jar of strawberry jam can make a long night out of an otherwise mundane task such as removing a milk carton from the fridge.

When I heard the crash, I knew it was not a happy sound. I looked over, and there was a large, broken jar of strawberry jam on the floor right next to her foot. I told her not to move as she started to say “ow” repeatedly. I jumped over and told her to sit down onto my arms, and I carried her over to the chair at the table. Jam was dripping from her foot as I carried her. When it just kept dripping, even flowing, I told her to sit tight while I grabbed my phone and looked for a towel. As she looked down at her messy, red foot, she asked in a tone that indicated she probably knew the answer but didn’t want to hear it, “is that jam?” Now, a more comfortingly deceptive person (AKA wise parent) might have just not said anything or said something like, “Don’t worry, it will be OK,” but having never seen quite such a gash in person before, perhaps I was in blunt “efficiency” mode and just blurted, “No, it’s not.” I added something like, “But we’ll take care of it. We’ll get some help.” I called the parents to ask where the nearest hospital was, and they said to call 911 and have her taken to a nearby medical center.

As I dialed 911, I realized my search for a clean towel in the kitchen was a bust, and meanwhile, a truly impressive pool of blood was forming under her foot, increasing her concern. I grabbed a purple hand towel from the bathroom (I figured a color which wouldn’t show how much blood was seeping through might be a good idea to minimize any alarm on her part…or mine, for that matter). The person on the phone recommended putting a dry towel on the wound and applying pressure, an idea I didn’t relish especially because of the possibility that there may be glass still in the wound, but I wasn’t about to go poking around in it to find out, and we did need to stop the bleeding, so apply pressure I did as gently as I could while still having an effect.

Now, this is one of those nuanced little parental experiences. How do you hold pressure on the gushing wound of a ten-year-old while her 7-year-old sister is increasingly upset and alarmed by the whole scene, and the 4-year-old looks at the blood, politely informs you she’s eaten all the cookie and ice cream she wants for tonight, and backs away gingerly? I kept my attention on the injured patient first and foremost to try to help keep her as calm as possible without seeming insensitive and unconcerned by trying to make her laugh. Delicate balance. Tough stuff. Kudos, parents, for mastering this sort of thing.

As we waited, Julia was very helpful as she calmed down enough to help me by putting Dusty in his kennel and taking down the gate to the dining room, which she did just as help arrived. I was relieved when a neighbor showed up with motherly instincts and support, along with the medics with their calm approach and jovial attitudes. Who cares if they’re insensitive, right? They were great, too. Even made balloons out of their rubber gloves. I don't know whether it was cute or slightly freaky, but it was entertaining and distracting.

When we unwrapped the wound, the bleeding had stopped. I noticed my fingers were lightly stained. Apparently, the blood had soaked through several layers of towel. I was glad I’d chosen the purple one which had disguised that fact. With the bleeding abated, I could see the wound fairly clearly now, jagged and sunken in.

With competent medics attending to the wound and Kayla calmed down a little, I went to see Julia and Elleny. Elleny was doing better, but Julia was quite upset. I tried to comfort her a bit before going back to make sure Kayla didn’t feel abandoned with a bunch of strange men. Patti, the neighbor, was a GREAT help, too, as was her daughter, Kayla’s friend. I think Kayla and I were both quite happy to have them there.

Long story short, Elleny decided to finish her cookie and ice cream after all, Julia played with her friend and calmed down, and Kayla got a blessing from me and a neighbor before loading into Patti’s van to go to the hospital to meet her parents. They all came home at about 2:45 am. Erik and Pam had left their luggage at the hotel. I find it comical that they rented a room to give their luggage a lovely place to spend the night. It still makes me laugh. But they got their credits back, so there’ll be another weekend. Kayla now has 9 stitches and is getting around quite effectively on crutches. Poor kid. She was such a trooper through the whole ordeal.


The Post-Trauma Weekend

Saturday, I went yard-saling (we went in shifts because poor Kayla wasn't in any condition to be up and about yet), and I didn't find a tent or a Nintendo 64 (just to play Mario Kart 64 – SO fun), but I was quite happy to bring back my $0.50 treasure for the day: 4 lawn darts. I went to work out at my old gym and found that my membership was somehow still active (free corporate membership from my job there). We hung around the house and had a good, laid-back day. Erik and Pam went out that night again, and this second evening was much less exciting, thank goodness. The girls had eaten dinner at a friend's house. I ate leftover spaghetti, which I had also had for brunch. Good thing I've always loved spaghetti.

Sunday, we went to church and played around the house and ate dinner. I also made more cookies, this time using the pizza stone, at Pam's suggestion. The cookies came out brown and crispy on the top and almost entirely uncooked in the middle bottom. I flipped one over, and it looked like the underside of a mushroom. I decided to fold them in half, so the goo was trapped between the two crispy halfs of the top. Cookie tacos. Delightful. Pam suggested putting caramel or something in the middle, but there was no caramel to use, so I sprinkled the gooey undersides with cinnamon and nutmeg before folding them up. Loved it. I'd do that again.

That evening, I was off to meet up with the old gang: Stacey, Matt, Stephanie, Joe, Colton, Jenny. We talked about doing a potluck, playing an outdoor game, playing board games, watching a movie…we ended up chatting and catching up for 4 hours and sharing pie and cookies and music. Joe kept trying to convert us all to adoration of Dolly Parton, but we would have none of it. He insisted we were missing out. I'm sure he's right. Matt and Stephanie turned me on to a few bands, including Muse, Lily Allen (yes, Kim, I know you've told me about her before *grin*), and The Boy Least Likely To, mainly because of "Be Gentle With Me", because of the chipper phrase, "I'm happy because I'm stupid." I tried to turn them on to Beady Belle, Mardi Gras B.B., Sia, and Jesca Hoop, but I think only Jesca Hoop stuck. Jenny told us all about Colton's new temp job and his boss who seems to have adopted him. Stacey shared some fun teacher stories and reminded me of her eerie ability to remember dates. It was a great evening. Loved it. I kicked myself for not getting pictures. I always forget because I’m just too busy enjoying everyone’s company. Oh well.


A Few of My Favorite Things

Monday, I worked out again at the Gold's in Redmond, possibly the best Gold's I've seen, then drove through some of my favorite areas, including crossing the 520 bridge over Lake Washington, into the U-district, and meandering up Ravenna Blvd. I forgot how charming and beautiful the Seattle area is. I did, of course, stop in at the U-Village to grab some amazing chocolates at my favorite chocolatier: Fran's.



I met Justin downtown for lunch and bumming around Seattle. We ate at The Salmon Cooker, had dessert at Procopio (I had pineapple-basil and kiwi gelato), and sampled and purchased far too much cheese at Beecher’s, and then finished off the Pike Place tour by buying my favorite lingonberry-mint balsamic vinegar and some lemon garlic and orange olive oil at Sotto Voce. That evening, I did dinner and FHE with the fam and headed back to Bellevue for a last hurrah of banter with Clint and Justin (and, at the end, Mark) at the Cheesecake Factory (avocado eggrolls and vanilla bean cheesecake...yummmm...).


Side Note

One of these days, I'll learn to remember the little quips and hilarious stories my friends and family share, so I can share them in turn. But for now, I'll just say that I really enjoy the comedy of daily life sometimes. And between my quirky family, the things the kids say and do, and the stories my friends tell, these trips to Seattle always provide plenty of opportunity for laughter and uplifting reflection.


Forty-five Minutes Wandering Economy

Tuesday morning, I flew back to Salt Lake in time to get back to work just an hour and a half later than my usual shift. Or, thus it would have been had I written down the location of my car in the economy lot. Funny how far you can run without realizing it when you’re hurrying to catch your plane. Mental note: write down the parking section next time.