About Susan Andersen

The Triplets are four!! Where is the time going?

Photo right: Me and the Tripz at Hood Canal (Caitlin on the deck, Sophie and Hayley draped over my lap)

Photo below: Caitlin, Hayley and Sophia doin' "angel arms" in the cabin.

GOD’S COUNTRY

When I was an infant, my parents discovered this tiny beach resort on Hood Canal. It was a simple stretch of sand with a half dozen or so tiny cabins, a café, a boathouse that launched fishing boats down this cool little railway-looking track and the most killer view of the Olympic mountains you’ve ever seen in your life (photo at left: Olympics at sunset). We spent two weeks there every summer. I remember them as being endlessly golden, although-- this being western Washington-- it was just as likely to have rained occasionally. I didn’t care. Rain or shine, I ran wild with my brothers and my cousins, kicking up sand on the pristine beach, climbing the cliffs on the other side of the public access and swimming in the salt- buoyant freezing cold water. (My cousin Phillip did this great, walking-off-the-end-of-the-dock-while-reading-a-newspaper schtick that cracked me up every time) As we grew older we collectively took up water-skiing, fishing out of my dad’s old Hollywood, and perfecting our tans.

When I was nine, my folks bought a piece of property down the beach from the resort and built a little two bedroom cabin on it. In the intervening years, a lot has changed. The boathouse burned down years ago. The resort closed. The salmon don’t run nearly as often-- and the spit that kept the beach sandy filled up and was never dredged out again. That stretch is now rocky and largely covered with oysters.

But kids still run wild. The salt water is still as buoyant as ever. And that killer view just keeps getting prettier all the time.

Out the back door

I used to be a summer person. If I'd had my way as a teen, in fact, I would've held down a lounge chair seven days a week, fifty-two weeks a year, doing nothing but perfecting my tan. Then a couple of things changed. One, the Doomsday Sayers started kvetching about tanning not being good for the skin. Talk about sucking the joy out of life. I frankly didn't believe I would ever turn leathery or develop wrinkles when I was twenty. Didn't believe it when I was thirty.

I started becoming a believer somewhere around forty. Bummed me out, lemme tell you. So now what was I supposed to do for fun? Luckily I discovered something to take the sting right out of losing my favorite activity-skiing.

Actually, I used to downhill ski back in high school. And, boy, did I suck at it. My feet froze, my fingers froze, and as the soul mate tells it (I've known him since I was 16 ) I was very vocal about my discomfort. Hey. I do NOT whine-I don't know where he gets his ideas sometimes.

But I digress. X-country skiing is different than downhill. A girl stays warm. Even if you start off with frozen fingers, you pump enough blood to all your extremities to toast things right up within ten or fifteen minutes. And it's quiet out there in the mountains. And pretty.

A few years back the S-mate and I bought a little place in what we Pacific Northwesterners call 'east of the mountains' and everyone else calls eastern Washington. This is the view out the back door.

Doesn't that just open up a space in your soul and put you at peace? Dang , I love winter.

Breast cancer runs in my family. My mother is a two-time survivor, I lost my Auntie Jean to it a couple of years ago, and this year my niece-in-law Monica was diagnosed with a particularly virulent case. She had her mastectomy two months ago and has completed two courses of chemo so far. She still has 6 weeks of radiation to look forward to, but is doing fairly well and has demonstrated amazing humor and fortitude throughout her ordeal. Wanting to do something, I signed up for the first annual NW Hope & Healing Breast Cancer Half Marathon this past Labor Day weekend. I'm no runner, but I am a walker and I completed the 13.1 miles in 4 hours. Yes, I know, I hardly set the record books on fire, but I was proud to have finished and to have raised $1300 for the cause. (and you have to understand that I consider this a particular triumph considering my sister-in-law Sue, the trips grandma, conscripted the entire Friends and Family list, and I had to scramble for people to hit up for donations. She even got to Mimi, MY best friend, first) Last I heard the event brought in nearly $70,000.

Of the 22 of us (out of 140 runners and walkers) who were there to participate in Monica's name, we represented the oldest (my 79 year old mom and her friend Winnie, who turned 80 the following week) and the youngest (Monica's nieces Kiva and Marimar, who both ran and are 16 and 13 years old respectively). My nephew Erik ran with the triplets in one of those racing stroller thingies, but I'm not sure if the girls were counted in that number, since they didn't do the course under their own steam. They did, however, get out of the jogger to cross the finish line on their own. Our group also represented the first to cross the line (Monica's brother David) and the last (M'ma and Winnie).

NW Hope and Healing is a nonprofit foundation that meets personal needs that insurance can't. They provide transportation, child care, counseling, meals, and education. They also create "healing baskets" which are filled with items of personal care and comfort and are available at no cost to those who are newly diagnosed. The foundation is fueled by volunteer power, overhead is nonexistent, and results very direct. My cousin Colleen (The Cosmetics Queen) was so impressed with it that she started a Midwest Hope and Healing with the help of the Illinois hospital where she works. Anyone interested in finding out more can log online to www.northwesthopeandhealing.com or, coming by mid-December, www.midwesthopeandhealing.org.

My Heartfelt Thanks To the Following For Their Generous Donations:

Rachel Gibson
Lou Andersen
Penny Wade
Patti Berg
Stan and Toni Andersen
Christina Dodd and her husband Scott
Stephanie Bond
Sabrina Jeffries
Linda Flajole
Adele Ashworth
Donna McFarlane
Teresa Mederios
John & Elaine Anderson
Marc & Miriam Perez
Michelle & Ken Wilcox
Kathleen Eagle
Theresa Huard
and the Starbucks corporation for its matching funds charitable donation plan