the first bountiful harvest

I am blessed with peas this year.

I did my first major harvest today; I've been picking a pod here, a leaf there for salad, but I hadn't picked anything in bulk yet. I knew there were peas out there that were starting to get a bit too big, so it was now or never. After a gentle morning rain, much appreciated, I went out and picked two gallons of sugar snap peas, weighing in over ten pounds.

I'm glad these are sugar snaps and not pod peas. That would be a lot of shelling to do for maybe one or two meals of peas.

I also picked a daikon radish that was starting to push itself out of the ground. These have a mildly spicy flavor and are great raw, in salads, or in stir fry. This is the first year I've planted them, and they seem to do very well.

And, here's the "garden art" of the day. I'm really starting to like Swiss chard, which was also a new vegetable for me this year. This is the "bright lights" variety. I planted another variety from seed, Fordhook I think, but it wasn't germinating very well so I got these transplants from the garden center. Then the seeds started to sprout under cover of these big leaves.

The Hermit and I were drinking our coffee in the screen house this morning as it was starting to rain. He remarked that plants seem to respond better to rain than they do to being watered, and I agreed. I wonder why that is? Perhaps the barometric pressure changes right before a rainfall stimulate the stomata in the leaves to open up more and be receptive to the rain? I don't know. I may have a degree in biology, but there is so much I do not know.

more Lyme disease

Edited to add: This is what a bullseye rash, the most obvious symptom of Lyme disease, looks like. I saw three of these in the morning; by afternoon there were a dozen or so all over him. However, not everyone who gets Lyme disease shows such an obvious rash; I didn't. But once the doc got his eyes on this, there was a prescription in my hands in ninety seconds flat!

Yes, it's almost official; everyone in this family has now been afflicted with Lyme disease or erlichiosis, another tick-borne illness. Mr. Attitude was showing some strange symptoms last week, spiking a moderate fever every evening and one night writhing with pain in one leg. We had an appointment set up a week ago, then cancelled because he was starting to feel better. Today as I was waking him up, I noticed a small round red rash with a lighter center on his arm. I checked him over and found two more similar rashes. This was an exact repeat of the sequence of symptoms Starflower had two years ago. So today instead of going to daycare and work, we have a 10:30 appointment with the doctor.

Lyme disease is nothing to mess with. It is entirely treatable with a course of antibiotics if caught early, as Mr. Attitude's case probably is, but left untreated all kinds of chronic problems can occur. They say prevention is the best cure; wear repellant, long pants tucked in socks, and check for ticks daily. Yeah right. With three kids playing outdoors constantly, and the ticks the size of a pinhead or smaller, prevention is next to impossible.

Mr. Attitude, by the way, is feeling just fine right now.

Fourth of July melancholy

Despite the ominous title of this post, for the most part yesterday was far from melancholy. I awoke with no particular plans; The Hermit was away on business and we had not received any invitations to family functions (I would not have minded spending the Fourth where I spent so many other July days growing up, my grandparents' lake place that now belongs to my uncle but...never mind. another post for another day.) It was a gorgeous sunny day, and I decided to singlehandedly decimate every single spotted knapweed plant on our property before it got too hot; then I could have an excuse for goofing off the rest of the day. I did not quite achieve my goal, but I have greatly reduced the potential for flowering and seed production of this invasive weed.

Starflower came out looking for me at the end of the driveway; she said Fred had called and that he and Missy invited us over for an afternoon picnic. Perfect! It was a fun, relaxing afternoon with good food and beer as per usual. Calvin and Starflower played with their best friends, Sally frolicked with Fred and Missy's two German shepherds, and we played a few tunes along with Chris, guitarist from the Whistlepigs. We probably started the music too late, however; musical ability, although perhaps enhanced by one beer, seems to have an inverse relationship with the number of beers consumed subsequently.

The kids had decided they wanted to go see the fireworks in a nearby town with their friends that evening, so instead of heading home, which I was ready for, we followed them to their house. Despite my fatigue at that point, when Mr. Attitude was jumping on the trampoline I joined in because it looked like fun. It was, too much fun for a 39 year old! I found out I can still do a split jump and touch my outstretched arms to my toes. I stopped short of jumping off the upper rungs of the twelve foot stepladder the kids had placed next to the trampoline. My heart skipped a beat as I watched Calvin and Starflower do just that.

All too soon it was time to drive into town. By the looks of things, the normal population of the town had increased at least tenfold for this event, a definite challenge for a crowd-impaired person like myself. By the time we found our friends and sat down, I was feeling tense and jittery and wishing it was all over and dreading the exodus, the long drive home, and all that lay in between. Even though we were with friends, I was missing being with The Hermit. I felt lost and alone in the darkness and the crowd.

The fireworks started, the usual resounding cannon noises and crackling stardust and screaming comets and momentary bursts of color, larger than life, a nice show all in all but I kept thinking "Why am I here? Why is everyone here? Why is anyone here?" Here we are, celebrating excess, celebrating ideals and prosperity and victory, celebrating with flashes and loud noises. Hooray for us. Hooray for freedom. Hooray for the appearance of freedom. Hooray for the thousand idling, petroleum burning cars that brought us here. Hooray for our children; we take for granted it will always be like this for them. God help us. God help them.

Sitting in the van, waiting for traffic to inch along afterwards, I felt trapped, tired, and alone. Alone in the glare of a thousand headlights. Alone with my near-sleeping children. Finally, inch by inch I arrived at the main street and turned east out of town, still in a long line of cars, still alone. The cars dropped off with each cross street and the freeway, until at last, after the next town I turned down the dark road leading ten miles to our house, alone, yet feeling oddly safer and more calm out of the crowd.

We returned to the midnight stillness of our dark house; I had not thought to leave a light on. I got everyone in and into bed, but still I could not sleep. I went out to the cook shed and poured myself a glass of chardonnay, then sat alone in the silence.

I can't quite put words to what it was I was feeling; something ominous, something uneasy. The significance of the day was not lost on me; on this day when we reflect and celebrate our nation's independence, I can't help but look around and see it slipping away. Unless. Things can never stay the same; that is a given. But in what direction are we headed?

This is why I take solace in my garden, in the woods, in music, in the natural gifts of each passing day.

Monday morning musings

First, some blogging housekeeping. If you are getting bounced email notifications of your comments here, you are not alone. I don't know what's going on; I even turned off the spam filter entirely, and oddly enough I'm not even getting spam. I wonder what else I'm not getting.

Also, the Site Meter says sometime soon, probably in the next 24 hours, Sand Creek Almanac will have its 20,000th visitor. It's been about a year since I installed the meter, so...wow. Thanks to everyone who visits here, especially the "regulars". :) Whether you leave comments or not, it always makes my day that you take the time to read this stuff.

Now on to the usual news from Sand Creek. 85 degrees and sunny yesterday, a little too hot for my tastes but it sure made that afternoon swim in the pond feel good! I'll have to post some pics of Sally (5 month old yellow lab) swimming if we go today; she's a natural in the water, and anyway someone has requested a "pupdate".

Before the swim, Calvin and I had a fishing adventure on the creek. He's been really getting into fishing lately, even though we've only caught creek chubs and common shiners so far. We usually fish from the north side of the creek, which is easier to get to, but I wanted to go to the south side to stay in the shade. Getting there required a shortcut through the horse pasture and some brush busting, but we found a spot that worked even though I had to break off a few alder branches that kept reaching out and snagging the hook.

In garden news, I don't have to water today; we got abouth 1/10 of an inch this morning, which was much needed. We had a meal last night that included barbecue pork sandwiches (we know who raised the pig), steamed sugar snap peas (yum! And there's plenty more where they came from!), and a new experiment, batter-fried garlic scapes. I just learned about garlic scapes this year. Supposedly you get larger bulbs if you cut off the flower shoots (scapes) before they open up, and they have a good mild garlic flavor. So I de-scaped all of the garlic, dipped them in beer batter, and fried. They were pretty good, a little tough in places but sort of like onion rings. I did wake up this morning reeking of garlic, though.

One thing I noticed when I was picking peas: Our garden has, as of yet, no fence around it. I have seen plenty of rabbits around here, even right in the garden walkways. There are some pea vines off the trellis, hanging over the edge of the raised bed, heavy with ripe pea pods just beckoning some critter to come along for an easy meal.

So far, no takers. I want to ask why, but when one is the recipient of such an act of grace, I feel questions are inappropriate. I'll just enjoy it for what it's worth.

Off to enjoy the day!

too-cute-for-words kitten blogging

a midsummer evening

The lingering twilight of a northern evening beckons me outside, away from the small quarters I share with four other humans, one dog, and 1-3 cats. Tonight it is two cats for now; we have brought in the Cute Kitten Of The Year to be protected from the unknowns (probably tomcats) of the outdoors. Flame point Siamese with sapphire blue eyes. Pictures to come, of course.

Stillness surrounds me outside. Our area is remarkably quiet, even with a few people up to celebrate a holiday weekend at their cabins in the woods. A few 4- wheelers roared by as we lounged and swam at the pond; as they passed by I yelled "This ain't your playground you city bastards!" Of course they could not hear me, but it felt good.

But at twilight it is still; even the neighbors across the road have subsided their f'nheimer-laced family brawl, which they engage in once a month or so. A few roosters still break the silence with their barbaric yawp, and the ever-present veeries float forth a liquid, ethereral call. It's a toss-up between the Veery and the Ovenbird for official breeding bird of Sand Creek. Honorable mention goes to sedge wrens, song sparrows, catbirds, phoebes, and chipping sparrows. (no kingbirds here ;) )

I walk among the rectangular beds of my garden, noting the sugar snap peas which are ready for a genuine harvest and a substantial meal or two. When I plant, it never looks like it will be enough, but at harvest time, I am overwhelmed by the yield from a few square feet filled with horse manure.

I spent a great deal of time today just doing the basic tasks of living; putting away laundry and doing dishes, as well as ongoing straightening-up. It was hot enough to work up a sweat. I could be living in a subdivision with air conditioning and a dishwasher, but then I'd just need more expensive toys and golf club memberships and fast foods and alcohol to delude myself from the fact that the bank really owns my house, I'd have to call a professional if any of the mechanical things sustaining my level of blissful ignorance were to suddenly stop functioning, and my life wasn't really my own.

I pay the price in some ways, but to be serenaded by veeries and tree frogs on a cool summer night, to delight in fresh eggs and produce from the garden, to cool off with a swim in my own pond, is worth everything. This is the life.

Attack of the Tyrannus tyrannus

It started out as a perfectly ordinary day at work. I had two inspections to make for aquatic plant control permits, so I headed out in the morning before the weekenders started taking to the roads. The first permit took me to one of the more gorgeous lake homes I had ever seen; it was good-sized but not a huge screaming look-at-me deal; the cedar siding and green roof on the Cape Cod style house fit in nicely with the site. My job there was to look for three rare species of plants; I may have found one.

The second stop took me to this beautiful site:


It was a long downhill walk to the shore. Little did I know what danger awaited me down by the dock.

An Eastern kingbird (Tyrannus tyrannus) was perched on one of the dock posts, scolding me with a persistent chirping call as I stepped onto the dock. As I walked out, noting the thick beds of water lily and trying to get a look at submerged species, the kingbird was getting more and more agitated. It flew to an overhanging tree, scolding, and by then I knew it must have a nest close by. Suddenly, as I approached the pontoon boat moored to one side of the dock, all hell broke loose.

The fearless Tyrannus started dive-bombing me. At first it circled threateningly overhead, during which time I managed to capture a photo after two failed attempts. Then one swoop, and I felt its wings brush against the back of my head. Okay, I get the message, I'm outta here! If there had been an onlooker in a passing boat, I would have looked hilarious as I ran up the dock, a bird swooping after me.

Time for Plan B. The owners wanted to clear an area about 50 feet away from the dock for swimming, so I put on my waders and went out to have a look around. The kingbirds (by now the mate was scolding me as well) were still agitated, but I thought they might realize that I was now a safe distance away and that I was not out to steal their young. But as I waded waist deep among the yellow water lilies (Nuphar variegatum), one of the kingbirds started circling again. Suddenly it dove at me, and I don't think I've ever moved so fast wearing waders before. I scribbled a few quick notes and headed back up the hill. I think I heard a catbird laughing at me.


Don't mess with us!

I didn't even get a chance to see where the nest was; I didn't see anything in the overhanging tree so it may have been right in the pontoon boat. Those folks are in for a big surprise if they want to go for a boat ride this weekend...

new profile photo

Okay, so some of you may have noticed that I changed my profile photo. I thought the old one looked, well, obnoxious in a way so I finally took a self portrait that I didn't hit the "erase" button on the camera right away. I'm strange that way, I guess I haven't quite accepted my "late 30's look" the way I should. When I was in college, I would have given anything to have hair that color (it was much lighter then, kind of a honey blonde).

it's really the middle of summer now

Fireweed is blooming. A sure sign of July. How does time slip by so quickly?

Never mind. Pohanginapete said it better than I could have. As usual.

It's called wabi sabi.

my secret walk

This is where I go when I can't stand to sit indoors at the messy lunchroom table making idle chitchat. There's no time for that nonsense in the middle of the summer, not when a place like this beckons!

This mowed path runs along the top of a berm with a fish rearing pond on one side and a river on the other. Thickets of honeysuckle, grapevine, staghorn sumac, and other shrubs line the pond side, while tall willows and other trees shade the path from the river side. Through these trees I can hear the water rushing over rocks.

The pond now contains young muskies and minnows, plus crayfish, turtles, frogs, and other critters. A family of geese was lounging on the other side of the pond in the sun. Red winged blackbirds called from the cattails and bulrushes at the far end. Sometimes I will startle a great blue heron or green heron from the shore. Today's bird sightings included a male cardinal, catbird, red breasted nuthatch, and a male redstart, which kept calling to me until I located his flashy presence.

I don't know if many other people know that this area is considered open to the public, or have the idea to go walking there, because I never have seen anyone else there at noon. I'm happy about that, though; this is my place to disappear for ten or fifteen minutes in the middle of the day.

more marmots

The Hermit found these while mowing behind the garage today. I think Puffball is the daddy. His reproductive ability has since been altered.

It should be illegal for kittens to be so cute.

more rock moving

Here is my new and improved blueberry patch. Note the "D" shape--D for Deb.

nice marmot

Okay, this picture definitely deserves some explanation. First, it was taken and posted at the request of Starflower. This is Puffball, our one year old, semi Siamese obnoxious cat.

"Nice marmot" comes from a family favorite movie. If you can guess the movie, you'll win, well...we have a nice new crop of "marmots" here and you can have your choice...

So how did Puffball get to be known as a "marmot"? I had a dream the other night that I was wearing none other than a live marmot around my neck, and I went to a meeting for work and everyone was saying "Nice marmot!" I woke up to Puffball curled up on my neck. Puffball weighs about ten pounds, a significant thing to have curled around one's neck at 4 in the morning.

finished planting...I think

This was the project du jour, and I think it is one of the lovelier things we have done here. The Hermit built this rock garden a week and a half ago, from the abundance of boulders we have lying just beneath the surface of our soil. Today we filled it with horse pasture dirt, and I proceeded to plant the miscellaneous plants I had left over from our greenhouse shopping spree last Friday. There are perennials, annuals, herbs, and a few vegetables, but all in all it looks nice. I even planted a few morning glory seeds that hopefully will still have time to grow up and twine around the rain gauge post. This garden is about twenty feet from the patio door that leads from the future family room in the new house, so it will look nice from indoors. As if it didn't before; look at that great view looking east over the swamp!

Sometimes the rocks can be a real pain; when you try to dig anything you end up hitting at least one no matter where you go. But I have visions of more and more rock gardens, rock walls, walkways inlaid with flat slabs and creeping thyme, maybe even a rock garden shed. Our new hearth will feature a back wall faced with smaller pieces of sandstone, granite, and greenstone that the glaciers left here. We are rich with rocks.

That pretty much completes planting this year, save for the blueberries, elder and serviceberries that are still sitting in their big pots. And the rhubarb and asparagus roots I never got around to preparing a bed for. And the succession plantings of lettuce. I guess I never really am done.

the calendar says it's summer

...but the thermometer says 39 degrees F this morning! I just dug out my wool socks; glad I didn't stash them away too far! I have mentioned before about how I live in The Coldest Spot in Minnesota; I'm beginning to believe that deep down by the bedrock (Hinckley Sandstone) right underneath this place, there lies a giant ice block that never melted after the last Ice Age.

But really, I much prefer this to heat and humidity. My peas, Swiss chard, lettuce, and spinach like it too. The tomatoes and peppers, however, are going to get their plastic hoophouse covers put on today, to give them a little boost. Maybe "Sub Arctic Plenty" will be my best new tomato variety of the year. I'm not joking; that is a real name of a real open-pollinated tomato developed in the 1940's for the US Air Force base in Greenland. If it works in Greenland, it just might have a chance here.

I took a day off work today, so I get to play in my garden! That is, after I finish mowing the foot-tall grass in the back yard. I should just let the sheep graze back there, if we had a way to keep them fenced in. Of course, I do have a nine year old boy with no plans for the day.

solstice blessings

and long live baseball. That's Calvin, looking the most ready of all.

Here's to the shortest dark night of the year. When I go to bed the northwestern sky will still turn the trees into silhouettes, and when I wake the northeastern sky will long have been light. We have maybe five hours of total darkness these days. But, believe me, the winter more than makes up for it!

The sounds I hear these days are tree frogs, with an occasional green frog chiming in with its banjo twang. Calvin found an enormous green frog yesterday; I had to remind him of the "no frogs in the house, I don't want to find them in the middle of the night" rule. I also hear birds; ethereal veeries, squeaky black and white warblers, insistent phoebes, and teasing red eyed vireos are the main singers now, more often heard than seen. I saw my first yellow-billed cuckoo today, and I probably convinced my coworker I was insane. I eyed it from a moving truck, and as soon as I saw it I was so sure of my identification I practically yelled out "Wow! A yellow billed cuckoo!" We birders are so oft misunderstood... Later, it was butterfly weed blooming, but I was much more restrained in my delight at the observation.

Although I'm still technically planting, the garden is bursting forth into an oasis of life. The sugar snap peas are absolutely thriving, and I should be enjoying the first harvest of them within a week. I have lots of lettuce at a time when, curiously, I am not especially craving lettuce. What's up with that? Have I lost my inner rabbit?

I offered my own song up into the twilight, out on the back step before the mosquitoes got too thick. I played a few random strings of notes on my flute, then broke into my medley of "The Maid Behind The Bar" and "Sheehan's Reel". Not having played much lately my tone was terrible, breath control nonexistent, and coordination sloppy. Hope I didn't offend the birds or the frogs.

Calvin's birthday

My oldest child is now nine years old. On this day that many years ago my life changed in so many ways. Today we celebrated with a small ceremony at home, a new video game, and a special hug when no one was looking. His best friend is spending the night; they plan to sleep in the tent but it's been raining so we'll see.

Parenting, the act of discerning when the time is to let a child test his/her wings, is naturally fraught with anxiety. Lately I've been simultaneously trying to let my children know that I trust them to be responsible for more things, and then feeling concern for every fledgling bird around here. There is a family of young ravens nearby, and sometimes I can't discern their raucous calls from human cries of "Mom! Hey Mom!" Which I hear often enough.

Then there are the moments such as this morning, when I awoke briefly, stretched, and my youngest son, feeling my movement in his sleep next to me, rolled over to put his arms around me. I stayed in that position, that innocent embrace, as long as I could (well, until my cat started intervening...)

Sometimes they can't mature fast enough, but most of the time you just want to hold them a little longer.

closeout sale day at the greenhouse

Lord help us.

But, we needed all this stuff, really. We needed a reason to make one more, gigantic raised bed. We needed a few perennials for the rock garden The Hermit just made yesterday. We needed three more blueberry plants, and we could not afford to pass up the "buy two, get one free" deal.

And, we saved over fifty dollars off the regular prices. Which means we spent...well, never mind.

By the way, a '91 Honda Accord makes a nice greenhouse. It would be even better with a sunroof.

first flight

This little downy woodpecker found out the hard way this morning that windows should be avoided. We don't have a large picture window, but occasionally a bird will hit one of our regular-sized windows, especially if it is inexperienced at flight. I was out in the garden watering when The Hermit brought the woodpecker to me. We debated about where to put it, because we wanted to keep it safe from cats. First we tried the ledge of the bird feeder; no luck, the woodpecker flew right into the window again. We decided to put it on top of the shower, where it would have a clear line of flight in three directions. When I checked a half hour later, it had flown. I hope it learned its lesson, and that I will see it again this winter at the feeder.

Laura Bird, Canadian singer/songwriter

In 1996, BK (before kids), The Hermit and I traveled to the Merle Watson music festival in Wilkesboro, North Carolina, for the second time. We flew, packing all of our camping essentials into two giant duffel bags that we checked through. We rented a small car and stayed at a nice US Army Corps of Engineers campground nearby, in nearly the same site we had camped at the year before, when we had met Firewalker (who deserves a post of his own).

My memories of the festival are limited to the Sam Bush set, and I think John Prine was there that year. Otherwise, we hung out at the campground drinking gin & tonic or Merlot, picking tunes, and meeting fellow campers. There was a contingent of Canadians camped next to us, some South Carolinians whom we knew from the year before camped across from us, and we sat and drank and played music with Firewalker and hid our drinks from the park ranger whenever he came around. Alcohol is not allowed at USACOE campgrounds.

I remember in particular one woman named Laura Bird from Canada. She played and sang a couple of Cheryl Wheeler tunes before totally blowing me away with an original song. I just found a journal from that trip today, and I had written down her name and how her music left me inspired. So today I did a Google search, and voila: Laura Bird.

Check it out, listen to the songs, buy her music, she is good. And I remember the ultimate compliment, when they were leaving, and she asked "Who was singing 'The L&N Don't Stop Here Anymore' last night? That was good!"

That was me. I am beaming again with the memory.

all we are saying, is give peas a chance

These are the best looking pea plants I have ever grown. They are Sugar Snaps, which make the most sense to me to grow because there's no waste with the pods. And they like cool weather, which we've had no shortage of, at least in June. Late May was a scorcher. The peas are just starting to flower.

This is bunchberry, the "chihuahua" of the dogwood family. They are a low-growing woodland plant, and they bear clusters of red berries later in the summer. They grow wild here along the path to the cabin.

My bedroom phoebes have fledged. Let the building resume, I intend to be in there by September!

And, as long as I'm rambling, this is a good chance to let you know about my alter ego blog, Songs from Sky Blue Waters. SBW is a chance to let the writer in me come out, without distracting from the content and theme of Sand Creek Almanac. I will still continue to post here as usual, and even take some creative license, I just felt it was time to start another venture where I could experiment more with poetry, songwriting, and prose. I consider it a work in progress, very experimental in nature, so be warned. But feel free to offer constructive criticism as well!

forget-me-nots revisited

news from the garden

The raised beds, all 21 of them, are filled now, and all but two are planted. I decided to hold off on planting the last two on Sunday because...well, notice the tarps laying here and there? On Saturday and Sunday nights, tomatoes, peppers, and other tender stuff had to be covered up because of FROST. Yes, I've learned around here there's no such thing as a "last frost" date. I have also learned that even if the local forecast on the National Weather Service website does not mention a frost advisory or freeze warning, if the predicted low temperature is in the low forties, I might as well count on frost here.

Why is the low temperature here consistently ten degrees cooler than the surrounding area? I don't know, but I have a couple of theories. One, Lake Superior, fifty miles to the northeast, has a moderating effect; the thermal mass of the water might push cold air to the south, and we may be just far enough away to be on the receiving end. Another theory, actually more physical fact, is that even though Sand Creek's "valley" is hardly a deep ravine, there is enough difference in elevation that cold air settles in along the creek.

Because of the tarps, and the motivation of The Hermit Sunday night when I was too tired to trot out to the garden after dark, most of the garden escaped with little damage.

Artistic cutworm collar


Colorful- and ready to eat


We also planted three apple trees just south of the garden area; we bought all hardy Northern varieties developed by the University of Minnesota ag experiment station.

And just as I thought I had the remaining garden beds all spoken for, The Hermit went to the closeout sale at the garden center yesterday and bought more tomatoes, peppers, eggplant, basil, and even okra. I'm going to be planting in buckets pretty soon!

life is precious

Yeah, I know, how trite. But sometimes it hits home. Times like tonight.

While filling my tank at the gas station today, I ran in to a man I knew from the church we attend occasionally. We exchanged the usual "how's it going?" stuff, then he asked if I'd heard that Wendy, a church member, had passed away yesterday from cancer.

That hit me like a bullet. Wendy was the same age as me. She left behind a husband and kids.

I knew Wendy had been diagnosed with breast cancer and had seen her on and off for the last year. Wendy was a nice woman, shy but sweet, and she had worked at the local grocery store. Whenever Mr. Attitude was in there, she would have special smiles for him. Because of that, when we went to church he would always seek her out to say hello. And now she won't be there anymore.

Even the guy I talked to, a devout Christian who says he submits to God's plan, seemed at a loss with this one. His words: "It just isn't supposed to happen this way..."

It sure isn't. My prayers are with her family.

tiger swallowtail on chive

more garden pix to come.

first occupants of the new house

This is the ceiling of The Hermit's and my new bedroom.

This is what's living there already (click on photo for a larger image)

Early this spring, a pair of Eastern phoebes decided these timbers looked like a nice, protected nest spot. They were right, as long as we humans were not too anxious to close it in with windows, roof, etc. At the rate construction is going (which will pick up here shortly!) these little featherballs will be fledged and eating mosquitoes long before they would have to worry about finding a way out.

tomorrow's m.v.p.

I think I may have major league baseball's next big star right here...that is, if his first Little League outing is any predictor. According to Calvin (I wasn't there to see it, sorry) he went 3 for 3 at bat (3 homeruns, that is!) and fielded a triple play. (!) This from a boy who has more hours with a video game controller in his hand than a baseball glove.

I'm not holding my breath, of course, and I keep telling him that there's always room for improvement, but with the salaries of major league ballplayers nowadays, this is looking good...

it's that time of year

This is what was there to greet me in the driveway yesterday afternoon:


Snapping turtles are out and about, leaving the water to lay eggs in gravel nests. When this female, with about a 12" diameter shell, was finished, she made her way towards the pond. I knew we had a few painted turtles in the pond, but...she better leave the kids alone when they're swimming!

Everything is flowering, mating, reproducing...ths morning just down the road I saw a doe and her fawn at the roadside, running and disappearing into the woods as I drove by. Then on the main road, just where I saw them the day before, was a hen wild turkey with a brood of chicks. They had to have been a week old or more, and they can fly already! Ten years ago that would have been a rare sight in those woods.

And the other evening, as The Hermit and I were sitting on the back steps, we heard a hummingbird chattering in the gray dogwood bushes. Through the leaves we could see the male flying back and forth in a U-shaped pattern, then landed next to where we saw a moment later there was a female hummingbird. What energy, what drive and purpose these tiny creatures have!

forget-me-not

I have always loved these little flowers. Even when I wasn't "into" flowers, which now seems unimaginable, I knew what these were and loved them. Perhaps it was the simplicity--this is the typical flower form a 5 year old might draw--or the sky blue that is not often seen in the flower world.

This species, genus Myosotis, is not native here, but it has naturalized along some lake and river banks. I'm not hearing anyone clamoring to exterminate it as an invasive, however, and I'm not going to lead the cause. I have had some success growing it in rock gardens before, and if I remember in a few weeks I will return to this riverbank for some seeds.

this is what it's all about, really

I am the richest woman in the world.

This photo would not have happened if our life had gone the way it was "supposed to". If I'd had it my way seven years ago, we'd still be living in a small house in an outer suburban development too near the freeway, and nothing would have changed in seven years. Or we could have been at any one of the steps along the journey that led us back here, afraid to make yet another change.

Stress, yeah. Second-guessing? Yup, done it a lot. Regrets? Just look at the faces in that picture. NO.

We didn't have to go anywhere to do this. Our pond, our beach, is right there, and the water is always cool and inviting. By the way, it really isn't that green, otherwise I could not have survived the dip I took in it. I have the biggest garden I have ever had, we are working on a beautiful dream house, we eat some of the best home-cooked meals to be found anywhere, and we even have SHEEP! :)

I just could not be happy living in the city, or the suburbs. Some people could, but not me. I need my space, I need the bird songs, I need the frogs, I need quiet, I need my white pines, I need my garden. Sure, I need some of the things we cannot grow here once in a while, but an occasional trip to a city is okay.

The furthest I went today was out to the pond. Life is good.

garden of dreams

Almost all planted! Now, GROW!!!

I really thought today would be pure torture. Yesterday while I was still at work I started feeling really achy, and by the time I came home I had full-blown "flu-like symptoms". I spent a feverish, aching night wedged between Mr. Attitude and the wall, with Sally preventing me from stretching my legs. She's decided that since she's getting too big to sleep under the bed, the logical place to sleep is on top of the bed. And what Sally wants, Sally gets. :) Oh yeah, and Puffball started doing "cat adoration time" at the usual 4 AM. I awoke feeling groggy and miserable. This did not bode well for the day, THE DAY that I intended to get the rest of the garden planted.

But, amazingly, after a few cups of coffee and a couple ibuprofen, I started to feel better. I headed out to the garden thinking, okay, I'll do the bare minimum if I have to. Planting beans isn't that strenuous, is it?

I planted beans. And squash. And peppers. And tomatoes. I cut weeds and mowed a little. I hauled horse manure to a little flower bed on the south side of the cabin. And when The Hermit came home with a new 200 feet of hose, I hooked it up and watered the garden. Yes, it is that far from the well pump to the garden, and last year we were hauling jugs of water with the garden tractor. I'm getting soft these days, demanding such luxuries.

Speaking of luxuries, how about 4 new lounge chairs from K Mart, to replace the ones by the pond that had brittle, broken plastic and rusty ratchets so it was hard to position them just right. Ahh, I'm living like a queen now!

And at 8:30 PM, still no sign of recurring flulike symptoms! Strange, but I'll take it.

things noticed

For the past two days, a flock of cliff swallows has been converging on a tiny mud puddle in the parking lot of the building where I work. There is a river just a few hundred feet away, where I'm sure they could find as much mud as they wanted, but apparently the mud in this puddle is just the right texture or something. I was going to try to photograph the swallows when I went for a walk at noon, but I could not get close enough without them scattering suddenly, like seeds in the wind, and disappearing. Then I looked down, and right at my feet was this:

I can't remember the name of this moth, but I was fascinated by the eye spots. It was dead, probably fallen off the front of a car.

As I walked on downtown, I passed a lilac bush where--was it a week ago already? Two weeks? --I had deliberately stopped to bury my nose in the clusters of pale purple blooms, inhaling the sweet, earthy fragrance. The flowers were gone now, just shriveled brown petals. When did they go? When did the first buds of spring give way to full summer? Where have I been? Sometimes it seems each flower, each marker along the continuum of the season, blooms for only a precious day before it is gone. Sometimes you don't even see the petals fall.

Across the street, at the senior apartment building, I glanced at the flower garden that someone takes the time to tend beautifully, and saw among the usual annuals a lupine in full bloom, with a color just on the raspberry side of purple. I had not seen a lupine that color before. It, too, will be gone like each passing day.

The streets seem quiet and deserted; yesterday was the last day of school. My own children are home, spending their first day of freedom from the classroom. The summer stretches out endlessly before them, while I just want to grasp and hold on to each moment, each petal as it falls.

big garden day

(practically falling asleep at keyboard...sorry!)

I took today off work because a) Mr. Attitude goes to daycare on Wednesdays, just to get a little social interaction with his peers and a break from the brother/sister hierarchy, and b) the weather was good for gardening, a little hot but not like the last weekend. First The Hermit hauled old horse manure and dirt from the horse pasture to the garden beds with the tractor, then I arranged everything, weeded, and planted. There are still four raised beds to fill, and tomatoes, beans, peppers, eggplant, and a few other things to plant, but I think we're well past halfway planting.

No pictures today. No more vivid descriptions or lists of what was planted. I'm just too tired.

Oh, The Hermit saw a wolf yesterday, less than a mile from our house. A real, honest to God timberwolf, running across the road. Good thing we have the sheep fortress.

cats...*sigh*

I didn't ask for cats here. I did not bring my own cats when we moved here, although I had two, one of whom is now my dad's housemate. But they appeared from the farm across the road, one cat had a litter here and that was it. I started feeding them just so they wouldn't steal food from our old Brittany. Then, one by one, I adopted a few. I have one indoor cat, Puffball, and two semi-indoor male cats, plus a couple others who were indoors at one time but were moved out when they became pregnant. Hey, I couldn't afford to spay/neuter all of them, and I couldn't just kill them either.

But now it's kitten season, and I've decided most of these cats do not have any inborn mothering ability, either that or they are responding to some unseen population check. Two litters earlier this year have died within a day after birth. And two days ago, I witnessed what was perhaps the most casual birth I'd ever seen; a small calico was walking along the path, and when the kitten, placenta and all, dropped from it it didn't even stop walking. I picked up the kitten and put it in a somewhat protected area. Later I found the other kitten, abandoned in the woodpile. I put it with the other, thinking maybe the mother would have a change of heart and start caring for them. Wishful thinking.

And a lot of mixed emotions ensued. I could try to care for the abandoned kittens, feeding them milk every hour or so. But we have so many cats here, and there is so much else I need to focus my attention upon. Or I could kill them instantly, drowning them in a bucket. But what if...just what if the mother decided to come back? And I didn't have the heart to do it either. I'm not God, and I don't pretend to be. So I had to listen to their pitiful meowing yesterday and today, struggling, clinging on to life, while their mother casually lounged around, oblivious. I didn't imagine they would last long. I think the first one is finally dead, the second soon to follow.

So why do I feel all messed up emotionally about this? I was hoping they would die, so we would not have any more cats to deal with. And I was hoping they would live, because...well, just because. And in the end I decided I would not be the one to decide.

On the other hand, there is a litter of four kittens in the canvas garage, two weeks old and perfectly healthy. I'm prejudiced; I'm pulling for them because their mother is a Siamese mix, with blue eyes, and I'm convinced Puffball was their father, before I took him to the vet. Puffball is also a Siamese mix, blue eyed and grey pointed. The kittens are all snow white, which suggests they will develop colored Siamese points as they mature. I'm an absolute fool for Siamese cats. I have already decided I will keep one, or more, I'll see.

Damn cats.

new lawnmowers

By the way, there are three of them in the picture. I just noticed the front one looks like it has a head growing out of its butt!

I can now add "shepherd" to my resume. We've been talking about getting sheep for years, thinking they would be quieter than a lawn mower and fresh wool to boot. Well, last week The Hermit found these three lambs who needed a new home; their previous owner had gone to a nursing home and the family was anxious to get rid of them. When The Hermit picked them up they were in a small dirt enclosure, with no access to fresh grass. They won't have that problem here!

This is the "fortress" we built for them yesterday. We added a tarp for shade at one end. When all the grass is grazed down, The Hermit will just hook up the tractor and pull the fortress, sheep and all, to a new patch. Right now they're working on the side yard of the new house.

I'm off to look up carding and spinning equipment on Ebay! Okay, maybe that's a ways off in the future, but it's something to think about!

dealing with the heat

Okay, you folks in southern climes may think I'm whining here, but DAMN it's HOT!!! 91 degrees in mid-afternoon. How do you get anything done in this weather?

Of course, I'm not 100 percent to begin with. I have some undiagnosed illness that is causing loss of voice, coughing up unmentionable stuff, and general stuffiness. I thought it was maybe an allergy to pine pollen, but allergy meds brought me no relief.

I did get a small flower bed weeded, at about 8 AM, before it got too hot. Then, in a frenzy of God-knows-what, I helped The Hermit assemble a portable sheep pen for the "lawnmower" sheep we are getting soon, some day when it's not so hot. It turned out to be more of a sheep fortress. No predator has a chance here, I tell ya. This was at midday, mind you, the peak of the sun. I was already sunburned from the day before. I was not a happy camper.

So finally we went for the pond, after the oppressive rays of the sun were starting to wane. I brought a pitiful excuse for a beach umbrella, which did not last in the variable wind. I soaked myself, roasted myself, and walked back to the house for cough medicine and Kleenex. I told The Hermit that a simple dinner was the only alternative.

Well guess what? We ended up driving to Cloquet, to that wonderful Mexican restaurant we ate at last week. The kids showed unprecedented manners, the food was as great as before, and it was air conditioned. And they have good margaritas. ;)

pupdate

tired girl

Sally is almost four months old now, which I figure is about seven years old in people time (4 x 12/7...I can only do this math after two cups of coffee!) She's starting to settle out of her wild puppy ways, learning the rules of the human pack and eager for approval and acceptance.

And, she likes to swim, which is good since it's going to be in the upper 80's here today (yuk). Looks like another afternoon at the pond.

But, there's gardening to be done! Yesterday I planted broccoli, cauliflower, Swiss chard, carrots, parsnips, daikon radishes, rutabagas, onions, and more lettuce and other greens. A lot done, but still a long way to go. And it doesn't help that I've got some kind of upper respiratory crud that leaves me coughing and short of breath.

Last night, after hamburgers and corn on the cob (and mashed potatoes per Starflower's request) we went to a bonfire at a friend's house. When we got there, it was just getting dark and the fire was blazing strong. So strong that it was just on the verge of spreading beyond the fire ring; this was no wimpy fire. But we got it under control, marshmallows were roasted, s'mores were consumed, as we plotted the constellations of the starry sky. A whippoorwill serenaded us from a distance. I played a couple tunes on the mandolin but I think I was no match for the bird.

starflowers

Trientalis borealis

If you came to visit me today, and you took not the driveway, but instead the path that leads through the edge of the woods to my cabin, this is what you would see scattered on the forest floor.

Monarchs and starflowers and...

Just a quick post to say that monarch butterflies have been seen fluttering around here the last two days. Starflowers are now blooming in the woods; I would have taken a picture tonight but it's been raining off and on and it looked like the sun was disappearing behind a thunderhead.

And...as I was driving Starflower home from Girl Scouts we saw a black bear! It was in the road about 3 1/2 miles away from my house. It was the first bear I'd seen in a long time; I know they're around here but usually in the spring one at least makes an attempt at the bird feeder.

So that's my world here, tonight. I may take the day off tomorrow to get a long weekend and do some gardening.

nodding trillium

deer

My most amazing sighting for the day: a doe and her newborn fawn crossing the road in front of me, about five miles from home. The fawn was struggling across the asphalt, but it made it and I was patient.

If there is such a thing as karma, may that deer and her fawn not come northeast to discover my garden.

Who you callin' a weed?

Not these violets; I'm constantly trimming the grasses from around my raised beds, and occasionally pulling clumps of grass that migrate inside the beds, but I try to spare the violets. They're pretty, and they're not hurting anyone.

I do get some unusual "weeds" surfacing from time to time; I had a few ferns in my squash bed last year, and then there's this one:

I don't know, it sure looks like a trillium to me! How it ended up in a raised bed is beyond me. We have no large white trillium on our land, just a few nodding trillium here and there in the woods. Perhaps, just perhaps, a trillium seed ended up in a hay bale we bought from somewhere else, then was consumed by the horses, then the manure was used to fill this bed?

And I thought trillium were difficult to propagate. Whatever it is, I'm digging it up and putting in a flower bed.

More! More!

As I recall from an earlier post, I said one of my gardening strategies for this year would be more. Well, today I came home from work and found that my gardening space had been increased by one third; The Hermit had assembled five new 4 x 8 raised bed frames. I now have a total of eighteen raised beds, not counting the 4 x 4 potato bins. I could just kiss him!

Of course, the beds need to be lined with feed sacks (my half-a$$ attempt at keeping the weeds out) and filled with aged horse manure, but that's the fun part!

And a deer fence...might be needing one of those...

In other news, I learned yesterday that hummingbirds have a lot of nerve. I had just set out a new hummingbird feeder, and was going to empty the other one and replace the nectar, when I heard a high-pitched chattering, buzzing noise coming from up in a tree. There sat Ruby Throat, madder than a hornet, and cussing me out for even thinking of touching his feeder. I backed off; I don't need any hummingbirds mad at me.

Birds seen or heard today include: Sedge wren (all night!) robin, red winged blackbird, raven, crow, chickadee, blue jay, goldfinch, purple finch, baltimore oriole, ruby throated hummingbird, red breasted nuthatch, eastern phoebe, American bittern, common merganser, purple martin, tree swallow, magnolia warbler, black and white warbler, ovenbird, yellowthroat, brown thrasher, and catbird.

good dirt

We put the tractor to use Sunday morning, scooping up old manure from the horse enclosure and hauling it back to the garden area. From there, I got some good exercise shoveling and filling the raised beds. These are all old beds from last year, but the soil had settled enough that they needed to be refilled.

ready for planting

I got three raised beds filled yesterday, which means I now have four beds ready to plant. However, the temperature dipped to 25 degrees last night, reminding me why it is not good to get too eager to plant here in Minnesota. The average last frost date is just that: an average. I do have peas growing already (middle left edge of the photo), but these should not be harmed by the frost. And I can probably get away with planting seeds any time now. Tomato, pepper, and eggplant seedlings will wait another week or so before I plant them in the cevered hoophouse beds.

We also lifted the enclosure where we were raising the meat chickens, exposing a rather odiferous pile of chicken manure. I think once it airs out a bit, I'll move most of it to a compost pile, cover the rest with dirt, and plant the squash there.

The hermits go on a date

Yes. A date. Quality time together. Adult conversation. Good food. Good music. No "Hey Mom!" every two minutes. No one else but a dog and a cat in bed.

It was much needed.

For The Hermit's birthday I had bought tickets to a John Prine concert in Duluth. Although we're huge Prine fans and have seen him several times, I knew The Hermit was equally excited about the opening act, Pieta Brown with Bo Ramsey.

The kids spent the night at their friends' house, friends they don't get to see too often. They live on a small farm about 25 miles away; we buy all our pork from them. The only child who even took time to say goodbye was Mr. Attitude.

From there we traveled up Highway 61 to the town of Cloquet, about fifteen miles west of Duluth. We had heard from the older kids that there was a new Mexican restaurant in town and it was pretty good, so instead of going to a touristy place on Duluth's waterfront and enduring long lines, we decided to give it a try. In a word, it was excellent. Fast, courteous service, good margaritas, and the best Mexican food I have had, anywhere, for a long time. The Hermit and I both ordered seafood dishes.

Then it was on to Duluth, to the auditorium on the waterfront. We were a bit late and missed part of Pieta Brown's set, but were impressed with what we saw.

What can I say about Prine's set? He played just about every song that I would have wanted him to play. He played and sang for about 2 1/2 hours straight, even though his band took a break, I was amazed that he could keep singing for so long. He opened up with "Spanish Pipedream" ("Blow Up Your TV"), which set the tone for the evening; lots of old Prine favorites. His second song was "Your Flag Decal Won't Get You Into Heaven Anymore", one he said he resurrected by request of the President. Well, George W. didn't actually make a request, but he was askin' for it, Prine said. During his performance of "Some Humans Ain't Human", from his recent Grammy-winning album "Fair and Square", some human a few rows down from us decided it was his patriotic duty to stand up and shout obscenities when Prine got to the part where he said what he felt about the war in Iraq. I guess I support the right of both to free speech, but Prine had a lot more class. With rights come responsibilities.

It was interesting to note that most of the audience was probably over 40. I guess that's the demographic I identify with the most: a bunch of old hippies. Everyone knew all the words to "Illegal Smile". Pieta Brown was probably the youngest one there as she sang along with Prine on the last song, "Paradise". A fitting way to end the evening, but does the audience demographic say that today's kids have lost any idea of what Paradise might be?

The sound quality was lacking, though, to the point where a mandolin didn't even sound remotely like a mandolin. And my threshold for tolerance for loudness in music was exceeded several painful times. I guess I'm just used to smaller venues and smaller sound systems. Plus I can do without the crowds. But all in all, it was worth it to see Prine. And it was worth it to get some time away from the kids, something I'm convinced now that all marriages would benefit from.

the joy of music

This scene was just a bonus gift, a case of being in the right place at the right time. I would not have seen this if I had not been driving Starflower and Mr. Attitude home from Starflower's first piano recital.

She has been playing probably the shortest time of anyone on the program, but she did well. She got lost during her first song, one she had played over and over at home, but I understand perfectly well the performance anxiety that was going through her mind! Unexpected things happen, and that's why actual performance experience is so important, not that the anxiety will ever completely go away , but with experience you learn to handle it when it happens. I still start shaking uncontrollably sometimes when I play a solo at church.

There was the usual assortment of students of different ages and abilities, some who hammered on the keys with no inflection, like a robot, and some who nearly took my breath away. One girl in particular, who was maybe ten years old, played with unexpected maturity, with an innate ability to capture the expression of the music. She could have made "Twinkle Little Star" sound wonderful. I hope Starflower was as inspired as I was.

Some people are gifted at music, many have gifts that lie elsewhere. But I think it is important for children to have the opportunity to discover their gifts through experience. Not everyone is going to be Yo-yo Ma or Edgar Meyer, but I think there are great benefits from going through the discipline of learning to play a musical instrument. At the very least, one learns that not all music has to be recorded and prepackaged. And I wish more of us could re-learn to listen to and appreciate homemade music.

I asked Calvin when we got home if he would like to learn piano, but he reminded me that I was going to teach him guitar. I am going to commit to a half hour lesson with him weekly.

2:15 AM

I was in the middle of one of my epic movie-plot dreams, the kind that happen when I've had beer with lots of hops, when I felt the familiar but startling plop of a cat jumping on my legs. Slowly and cautiously it made its way up my body, each step exerting nine pounds per square inch on some tender body parts. A wet nose nuzzled my face as a furry body settled across my neck. My head was in a position where I could see the clock. "Puffball", I said groggily, "It's 2:15 AM!"

I was preparing to remove the purring animal from my neck when a small voice startled me.

"It always amazes me how you humans are preoccupied with that glowing number thing. It tells you when to wake up, when to eat, when to sleep. Ridiculous, if you ask me!"

"Puffball? Am I dreaming or are you talking to me?"

"It most certainly is me. I am here to tell you that it is Cat Adoration Time, and you WILL participate!"

"Hey--since when do you tell me what to do?"

"Listen, that thing you had the vet do to me three weeks ago was just plain unforgivable. But if you will indulge me in this ritual, at times of my own choosing, I won't have to vomit hairballs on the carpet."

"Sheesh...the things I do for you animals..."

"And another thing...what kind of a name is 'Puffball'? Sounds like some kind of fungus!"

"It's the kids' fault...whatever...just let me go back to sleep...well heck, now you've got me awake, I have to pee."

"While you're up, my food bowl is empty. That silly obnoxious dog's been in it again!"

Animals...

I've been sharing a queen bed with three kids, a 4 month old lab puppy, and at least one cat for the last few nights.

this moment

The woods are wet with this afternoon's rain, and now the air is pregnant with the songs of spring peepers and toads. I watch the sunlight fade over the northwestern sky as an ovenbird makes its final calls in the twilight. A hummimgbird buzzes by, almost not noticing my presence on its way to the feeder. The creek, full with the recent rains, rushes over the big beaver dam, half a mile away back in the swamp, as a mist moves in and out. The air smells of damp pine needles, of dirt, of wood smoke, of life. In the distance, a woodcock peents, then flutters in a wide circle to the sky.

Welcome back

The ruby-throated hummingbirds are back! This is admittedly not the greatest photo, but I could not let the opportunity pass me by. What an amazing creation, the hummingbird. So unlikely.

There is also a pair of yellow bellied sapsuckers causing a commotion in an old aspen tree near the house. Warblers are here, I have seen a Nashville warbler and heard a black-and-white warbler. I'm sure there are more.

A Minnesota Mother's Day

Mother's Day is the second Sunday of May. The fishing season opener for walleye (and northern pike, but mostly walleye) in Minnesota is two weekends before Memorial Day weekend. The two coincide more often than not.

Walleye is Minnesota's official state fish. A major part of my job is raising and stocking walleye into lakes, although a large proportion of the walleye caught in Minnesota are not stocked, but from natural reproduction. Still, we are criticized that we don't stock enough.

My Mother's Day dinner consisted of fried walleye, purchased from the local grocery store, and commercially caught in Canada. Two pounds cost about as much as one fishing license. I will purchase a fishing license, when I get around to it, because there are still a lot of crappies and bluegills to catch this summer, and maybe even a walleye.

Accompanying the walleye, which were very tasty, were grilled vegetables and a wild rice blend. A wonderful meal, all in all.

The Hermit is off to Edmonton, Alberta for a week of work. I'm keeping the home fires burning.

prodigal lemon balm

Last year, if I remember right, I bought a little pot of lemon balm at the local greenhouse closeout sale, because, after all, what's a garden without lemon balm? I planted it in a flower bed on the southwest side of the cabin, one where I mostly stick in a few annuals to make the place look nice.

As luck would have it, the lemon balm survived the winter and now looks as if it is poised to take over the garden plot. And I'm asking myself, "just why did I need lemon balm in the first place?" Yes, it smells lemony, but it's the kind of lemon scent I associate with aerosol furniture polish.

So what exactly can I do with lemon balm?

mother's day

Those who know me know I'm not too much for Hallmark sentimentality. I'm really not much for holidays in general, perhaps because it means another obligatory empty family get together where we all eat and sit around making empty conversation on a nice day when I could be out really doing something.

But today when I walked out to the mailbox, on a cold, windy, slightly rainy morning, I opened it and found the weekly advertiser, a form letter from my college asking for money, of course, and a big pink envelope addressed to me. The return address was Lincoln, Nebraska, where my stepdaughter Sarah is in graduate school.

Deb- happy Mother's Day! We love you lots! Thanks for always being there for us and for providing us with love and support. We love you, The Big Kids. :)

I was too young to be much of a mom to kids age 12, 10, and 8 when I married The Hermit, but it was part of the package and I did the best I could. Only Ryan, the oldest, lived with us full time; Sarah and Tom were there some weekends and all summer. But I had it easy; they were all wonderful, so loving and accepting and thankful for every little thing. So thank you, Big Kids, you made my day and even made me shed a tear or two.

According to Starflower, I am supposed to sleep in tomorrow morning and we will have a breakfast of blueberry pancakes in bed. More likely, Puffball will park his recently-neutered self on my neck and shower me with purring, and Sally will jump up on the bed trying to wake Mr. Attitude, until I hear the beep of the coffee maker signaling that my morning salvation is ready. At about 6:15 or so.

Emerson random quotes

Just wanted to alert you to a cool sidebar thing I've added. If you scroll down past all the blog links and past the "other interesting sites" list, you'll see a quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson, courtesy of the Transcendentalist website (there's a link by the quote). Every time you view this blog, you'll see a different one. Cool, huh?

I probably read a snippet or two of Emerson in high school or college, but for some reason I wasn't into reading beyond classwork back then and didn't pursue anything outside of class. In fact, I didn't start reading books that I picked out myself, just for fun, until I was in graduate school! I squandered my youth, I tell ya. But lately I've become very interested in Transcendentalist literature, Emerson, Thoreau, and others, because their views on nature, and spirituality, are very similar to mine. They were the original nature lovers and poets in American literature.

the Lone Ranger rides

doubly blessed

Rose breasted grosbeaks arrived today. Aren't they beautiful?! And I didn't know they liked thistle seeds.

clouds

photo by Starflower

marsh marigold

Looks like cool, windy, rainy weather for the next few days. I listen for new bird calls every morning, and yesterday I heard the beautiful flutelike Swainson's thrush. No warblers yet, at least not noticeable.

I'm giving a presentation to a high school class today, basically a "this is what a fisheries manager does" type of thing. I used to almost enjoy doing educational programs once in a while, but now I'm looking forward to this one like I'd look forward to a dental appointment.

Now if it were something I was excited about, like how to raise your own food, or birding, I could maybe get into it.