How My Garden Grows

I really like gardening. With relief I can say we did fine with it this year.

Picture me: I stand to rub my dirty hands with introspection out of doors,
for some things die and others baffle me with their resolve to live,

living for the sake of it. They merely chose. They can, you know. Right?

These sweet peas were not-- with their feet planted-- going to bloom until I actually tied and trained them to something. "Can't you climb that yourself? You're supposed to." Then I broke down, got out the twist ties, and they resolutely held to the agreement in less than a week.

A barely peeking sunflower here, a mass of belated cosmos there.

My favorites are the aromatic and the edible (herbs and vegetables) as they tend to be thoroughgoing and unassuming. Good qualities.

Perfect for the summer climate that wasn't. We've bonded over it with the neighbors. Which means they in turn took part of the fence down. We're flattered in a way...

We adapt, grow, change.

Growing until, with good conscience, you stops to wonder how it all had progressed right before your eyes.

I Spy

It seems this trip was almost like a game.

Quite a trip, an average late summer day. This is the view from a tiny wave tossed boat on Lake Crescent. I spy something beautiful.

Unique.
....no, Fascinating!

What a sight. Then, we were out just long enough to rescue novice rowers that couldn't make it back to the old Lake Crescent Lodge. (They took a picture of us too.)

I'm not sure how I'd describe this.

What, Dear? Your turn? (Two year olds don't know the concept of the game yet.)
...His name is Baker.

This is Shasta. Their names change a lot.

Oh, don't show them that. A potted Lavender I killed. We're working on it.

What else can you see?
Mom.

And now what's this?

Oh, "paper mache."
....I......... wouldn't have guessed that.

The Waters

"We have no borders on the waters."

We quietly went downtown to to the harbor before going on vacation. We saw in drizzle a majestic event called the Tribal Canoe Journey.

Though the tradition of dugout canoe travel is historic, it's been revived by tribes of the region. It is great to watch--Jake said he'd always wanted to see a canoe come in. You don't know what they are saying in song but catch a glimpse of the experience it must be through the sound of their voices. A few hundred miles, several paddling days. Uniting peopled tribes. To usurp "it just isn't there any more."

There are 10 practiced Canoe Rules for any such event. Eleven if you count: "Never, never call a canoe a boat." But the ten are more like philosophies.

I like Canoe Rule two, regarding real trust: "Respect and trust cannot exist in anger. It has to be thrown overboard, so the sea can cleanse it. It has to be washed off the hands and cast into the air, so the stars can take care of it. We always look back at the shallows we pulled through, amazed at how powerful we thought those dangers were." 

Togetherness, Redemption, Peace within. Beautifully universal themes. Every one that participated finished safely.
It was a great way to spend an afternoon in the place where we live.

(Port Angeles has a Japanese sister city, as well.)

Gem State (Part Two)

As soon as we got there, we ...well, we slept.
But then the next hot day, we went to a wedding. A perfect one involving a really fun couple. See?

Oh, the power of the blogger. (me.) Here's another. (I love you, Brock. I really really do.)

Shout out to bridesmaid/sister Kaeley who got her Learner's permit. Yay!

Great Uncle Mark was a hero at the luncheon. "He looks like my Grandpa and he's fun, too."

I say he was great, I tell ya. After the family visiting from the wedding party left, we left to Uncle Mark's cabin in Island park.

We played with cousin girls every chance we got.

At the end of the week, Jake and I had the opportunity to visit BYU-I and that was overdue. So yes, after the "sweltering" welcome luncheon, I pushed Jake into their state-of-the-art greenhouses and stood with relief amidst the greenery. And in front of the cool-wet air system. My moment of "home."

We saw Donkins, Dormans, Jenkins, all good friends.
While in Rexburg we hopped over to the Hospital to meet my new niece, Mercedes, born that day...

And then after all that we said our good byes in a gentle, well wishing rain,

We stopped at a roadside stand in Yakima for Rainier Cherries (which with a chocolate reserve saw us through) and came home where some slept on and on.

This is NicWoo reporting, completely un-sunburned!

Gem State (Part One)

Have I ever mentioned that it takes us about 16 hours to drive to the one and only Idaho?
Well, I'm sure I have. But we had a wedding to get to. An hours old baby to visit. Cousins to revisit. Kitties to wrangle.

Let me show you around.
First, it is a complete luxury to have a place like this for your childhood. The view hasn't changed yet. At night, Pocatello splashes on the hillside in twinkles. And the sunsets are panoramic.

Your kids get to sleep in the same sheets and blankets you did.

Grandparents with raspberry stalks to get lost in, like you did.

Instructions in farmer-talk for anything that could be considered transportation. And you know the feeling.

I mentioned kittens. I liked kitties just as much. We took two well cared for fuzzies home with us (You're welcome) and the rest went to be mousin' barn cats...

"Country Roads, take me home:"
48 hours driving+ fun in Island Park, Pocatello, Idaho Falls, Rexburg, Blackfoot+1 week= 2,500 miles.