My Husband, the Dare Devil

I love to sail, and for a while in residency, I crewed on a J-24 during the summer

races on Lake Erie just off Buffalo, NY.  Almost falling into the drink as we made an

emergency tack to avoid a collision is about as exciting as I want my sports to be...

Unless you count snowboarding, which I did do for several seasons,

the longest being during our stay in Boston from 2004 to 2005.

Nothing like going down a mountain in 30 degree weather

and hoping you don't hit a tree... or fall off the ski lift

in spectacular fashion in front of everyone...

No, I like my sporting life to be tame.

And, then there's my husband.

When I first met him, he was a windsurfer.

Soon, I was learning the language of windsurfers,

and when we finally moved together to Minnesota,

I learned about the windsurfer widow's life:

trips to places to windsurf

hooking up the equipment

tearing down the equipment

etc.

I tried it once.

Fell into the water multiple times.

Decided I'd rather be a spectator.

Then he decided to kick it up a notch.

Kite boarding.

Snow kiting in the winter.

Kite surfing in the summer.

A lot more speed and excitement for him

with less equipment to have to haul around.

And trips like our honeymoon meant kite surfing for him

and white sandy beaches for me.

A win-win.

Then we moved to California,

and he found the next thrill...

hang gliding...

I can honestly say, that there was a lump in my throat

on the first day I saw him voluntarily launch himself off a cliff

and into the air.

I'm a medical doctor.

An ER physician.

I've seen people on their worst days,

so I know what can happen.

Until that moment, I didn't think about it 

happening to him.

And, now, three years and many many flights later,

the lump isn't so bad.

I still hold my breath as he takes off,

and say a silent prayer to the God who protects

drunks and small children that my husband has a good flight

and comes back to the ground in one piece.

Getting my ham radio license has made it a bit easier. (KK6FZZ, btw)

I can now provide ground support with weather reports

and instant communication while he's up in the air.

But still, having taken care of three of his fellow pilots

in the ED while on duty, I know there's always a risk.

Of course, there's a risk getting out of the bathtub,

or crossing the street, or sitting in a parked car.

But, those aren't as fun as flying along with jet planes

and eagles...

or so he tells me....

Here's a link to his first blog post:

Jerry's Lite Air Adventure Blog

which, after I read it made my lump in my throat come back...

along with the video I created from our

Memorial Day Weekend trip to, where..?

Oh, yeah, go hang gliding...

All That Remains...

We have goats no more...

The fence is open and empty...

After all of the adventures and misadventures

over the past couple of years,

I gave the goats to a young woman

who is getting into Four H

and has the time to work with them.

It was a difficult decision because I really did like having goats...

but not when they were naughty...

and, they gave me a little parting gift

to remind me that goats are goats...

Those were blueberry bushes and my lemon tree.

Funny, they didn't eat the potatoes in the bottom picture.

Now this is all that remains...

I will miss the goats,

but I look forward to new critters and

new adventures...