Thursday, August 07, 2008

Two Conversations

Conversation #1:

Sarah was in her swim class. I was on the sidelines and struck up a conversation with a lady. This lady was very attractive and appeared to be around her late 50's to early 60's. She brought LittleGirl to the swim class. The conversation went something like this:

Lady: LittleGirl is only staying with us for a while. Her mom is in California.
Me: Oh, are you her grandmother?
Lady: No. I'm her great-grandmother.
Me: Wow.....(that's all I could say)
Lady: She also has a great-great-grandmother.
Me: (no words)

Conversation #2:

I was at a local running store looking at gear. I struck up a conversation with the guy working there. He mentioned his need to carry multiple water bottles when running. Then the conversation went something like this:

Me: Oh, you must do some serious mileage.
Guy: Yeah, I train quite a bit.
Me: What are you training for?
Guy: An Ironman.
Me: Really! Which one?
Guy: The one up in British Columbia.
Me: Is this your first?
Guy: No. My 12th.
Me: Wow.... (that's all I could say)

That's what life feels like here - like you're surrounded by young moms and Ironmen.


At 8:38 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I have a friend who grew up in Eugene, OR, which I believe is farther East. She said the boys grow up and work in Dairy Queen and the girls grow up and have babies. Oregon was also known, when I was in my 20's, as a great state to adopt babies from, due to the number of young mothers. That was told to me by somebody in Massachusetts that was trying to adopt.

I have no dated commentary regarding athletics in the big square state up there.

Of course, here in the bay area, we are surrounded by 37 year old first time mothers that dress their children in Hanna Andersson. (sp?) But we are OK, I swear.


At 3:58 PM, Blogger J Fife said...

Rachael - I had become used to the Bay Area moms. They were all in their mid 30's to early 40's. I think out of all of my friends and the moms at Sarah's daycare I was the youngest. Although it's hard to tell from my extremely youthful appearance (ha!), I'm no spring chicken.

The young mom thing frightens me.


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