Yak Attack

A place to unwind and spend some time yakking.

Monday, July 24, 2006

Check this out

Have you been by Kirsten's place at Enjoy Every Sandwich? It's worth the trip anytime, because she's a thoughtful and entertaining writer. This week is extra special at EES, however, because Kirsten unveiled Warren Zevon Week. She's posting a Zevon song each day, and she'll be doing some cool give-aways. I've personally met the Chip Ritter snowglobe, and he's a cool cat and a lady's man, when he's not fighting pirates. [note: make sure and scroll through the pictures in the photo album page]

Also, I'd like to say a hearty hurrah to the return of Real ID Rebellion. There's been several posts since the 23rd of June, 2006. I'm adding this blog to the blog roll, over on the right hand side of the page.

Sunday, July 23, 2006

Day Four on the Circuit

After all the miserable rain of Day Three, it was a treat to wake up and get paddling on Day Four. Yes, our tent was soaking wet when we rolled it up and put it away, even after we shook it out vigoroiously, but these actions marked a new day.

By Day Four, Tee and I were beginning to get our stride. We weren't always the last canoe of the pack, and the other canoes in the end positions weren't always just taking in the scenery. We couldn't maintain a deep digging in of our paddles for a long time, but it helped that we could do it more effectively than when we took off on Day One.

We still paddled Isaac Lake, but this was to be our last day on it. As we canoed, we spotted bald eagles and ospery; slim falls wandered around on the interior hills.

Keeping our rain jackets handy was an every day occurrence by now. Tee wore his rain pants, as well. By the middle of our paddle, I wished I'd kept out my rain pants, because my walking pants were soaked.

Once we set up camp and built a fire in the shelter that services three campsites, we were feeling pretty good. Half of the shelter was lined up with our gear, drying it out. At first we occupied all the tables in the shelter, but not long after we moved in, an older couple arrived at the shelter and set up their camp at an adjoining campsite.

The couple was Burt and Dehlia. They were so cute! Both of them were in their 60s, and were avid outdoorsmen. This was their fourth time around Bowron. After they got their camp settled, and they took ownership of one of the picnic tables in the shelter, Dehlia ambled over and we began to chat.

Besides canoeing, this incredible pair sea kayaked, although Burt could be, at times, too hard core in this sport for Dehlia's taste. They hiked. In fact, Dehlia said her recipe for success in staying active was to walk 90 minutes every day, rain or shine. It worked for her, because she was one hip lady. Burt was quiet. He'd nod politely as you'd walk past him, but rarely did he strike up a conversation, or help maintain one when one of men would try and chat with him.

At this point on the circuit, Isaac Lake meets up with Isaac River. Where the two join, there is a small "falllet," if you can imagine, and it's called "The Chute." You can run a canoe through the Chute, but it's not a good idea to do so with gear in it, because usually the canoe will then capsize.

By the afternoon, the sun came out to play. The boys were ecstatic. They threw on their swim trunks to go swimming. Tee came and talked to me as I laid down in our tent, trying to get rid of the pounding headache I devloped while we paddled that afternoon.

"Mom, can I do the Chute?"


"Yeah, E. and Vlad are going to do it, with their life jackets on. Can I do it, please?"

I was not at all comfortable with the thought of Tee body surfing the Chute with only his life jacket on. He can swim, but he's not a strong swimmer. I got up to check out the situation.

Vlad and E. did run the Chute, body surfing. They did so feet first, just like you would if you were in a capsize situation. I watched them from the shore, wondering if I should let Tee do the same. The current at the bottom did bring you back toward shore, but I wasn't sure he'd be able to break free of it, and make it the rest of the way to the bank. Vlad assured me Tee would be fine, and that he'd wait at the bottom fo the Chute for Tee.

I wish you could have witnessed the smile Tee had on his face as he reached the river bank, after running it. He had such a good time. Up to this point, our trip contained far too much plain existence without playtime, so I was very happy to see the kids enjoying themselves. Tee asked if he could run it again, and I gave him my blessings.

I headed back to our tent to lay down again, but I did toy with the idea of throwing on my bathing suit and trying the Chute myself. I wasn't in my tent for long when Dehlia stopped by, announcing that she and Burt were getting their suits on, to make a run. I was quite surprised, since she was worried about the kids doing it. She stood next to me on the bank, brows knitted together in concern, as Tee made his first run. What the hell, if the couple in their 60s was going to do it, I was too.

As it turned out, everyone in our group ran the Chute in their life jackets. It was so much fun! Dehlia did it twice, with Vlad catching her at the bottom, so she didn't float down stream. She said she'd now do this every time she returned to the Bowron circuit. Pirate Jay and Lower Case Jay ran it a couple of times in an empty canoe, and they said it knocked them around a bit. They didn't dump it, though.

As dinner cooked, a rainbow appeared between two points of land down river, with the end sinking into the Isaac River. The view was stunning, and we all snapped bunches of pictures of it.

I have to say this was my favorite day of the trip. We spent a lot of time chatting, getting to know each other better. Ike told us stories from when he lived in Alaska. The boys started a chess tournament, which occupied them for hours. Pirate Jay whittled a canoe paddle that each of us signed, and we hung it from a rafter beam before we headed out the next morning. Dehlia and Burt were so nice. I was amazed at how she brought needle point with her, and kept the white fabric clean.

I shook things up a bit as we sat around the adult campfire. We started it in the site's fire ring, overlooking the river. All the men in our group were making a point to not swear in front of me. It had reached a point of absurdness. So, when Pirate Jay burned our popcorn on the fire grate, then offered it to us, one of the guys burnt the tip of his finger on it and started to swear. He quickly stopped himself and I said," Come on, let's just say it. Pirate Jay f#cked up the popcorn." I startled P. Jay, because he fumbled his popcorn cup, spilling it all over the ground. We all got a good laugh from this, and all the guys loosened up a bit after that.

When Dehlia and Burt packed up the next morning, she made a point of stopping by and giving me a big hug. She thanked me for my friendship during the past 24 hours, and then they were off to finish the circuit. After we got back, and we had dinner with the other group from our troop, I found out that this pair caught up with them, and had such pleasant stories to share about our time together at the shelter on the Chute.

Saturday, July 22, 2006

Another case of state nannyism trumping personal medical decisions

This time it's in Virginia. Check out the story here.

Hungry bears will try anything once

I'm really glad this bear was in Utah instead of Canada: Bear Bites Boy Scout. I feel for this boy, though, who was already worried about the bear sightings near where he camped, before the bear bit him.

Day Three on the Circuit

The largest lake on the circuit is Isaac Lake. It's 23.5 miles long. We spent three of our days on this lake. You have to be careful while you paddle it, because strong winds can kick up at any time. If you're in the middle of the lake when it happens, it's a long way to shore. And finding a good place to pull over can be difficult.

The paddling for Day Three was pretty uneventful. We took some time to explore the Harold Lewis Falls, which is a fall about 11 feet in size. The trail had devils' club, so we needed to be cautious about what we touched. The top sides of the leaves can be gently pushed aside, but if you touch the underside, or the stem, the thorns located there can stick into your skin. Once in your skin, it's hard to get the thorn out, and it will start to fester, which is not pleasant.

The rain wasn't bad during our paddling time. It did sprinkle a lot-- enough that we all pulled out our rain jackets on one of our breaks, and by the time we reached camp, we all had them on. Once we put up camp, and started our camp fire, it poured buckets (upon buckets). While the beach and forest was gorgeous at this site, the downward slope of the camp area made it ripe for flooding. And flood it did.

Day Two gave Vlad the opportunity to try out using a paddle to prop up our group tarp over the bear caches. Day Three gave him multiple opportunities to try different ideas out. Several pairs of paddles were duct taped together to prop up our tarp. Gunnel pads were placed on the top paddle, to give more flat space for the tarp to rest on.

Unfortunately for us, the tarp run-off flowed to the part of the ground that pooled up water the most. The boys sprung into action, using our canoe bailers to scoop up sand from the beach and build up a wall, between the pool of water and where we had our chairs and packs congregated under the tarp. It turns out that Ike's son, Blarney, is an excellent trench builder. We were glad to have our own "Blarney Corp of Engineers," along with us for these torrential downpours.

During one of the sun breaks, Pirate Jay, Ike and I went through the gear boxes more thoroughly. It turned out that we had more kitchen gear in another box (we thought we only had kitchen gear in the box marked "kitchen"), and there was a 28 quart stock pot in that box. We parked that puppy under the tarp flow during the next rain squall, taking turns dumping the water well away from our tarp space.

Pirate Jay, whose good-hearted and humorous nature was tested during the rain on Day Two and Three, tried to keep our spirits uplifted by joking about where the pit toilet was located. "It could be worse; imagine being washed away by a lahar of urine and feces." We'd all chuckle, but I wonder how many of us snuck a look at that outhouse perched on the top of the hill, above our precious tarp space, and wondered if it just might happen.

In order to keep our camp fire from blowing out, Pirate Jay and Vlad took a few canoes and set them up sideway, in between pairs of trees. This served as a wind block, and it saved our fire. We also used a large wood round on the fire grate to shield it from the rain.

One of the most important camp jobs was filtering water. There was no tap water on the circuit, just water from the lakes and rivers. We brought along a collapsable bucket and two water filters with us. The bucket was a pain in the ass-- it kept folding inward as we'd try to get a full bucket load of water. Also, the bucket had this distressing habit of falling over, spilling all that damned water you just worked so hard to scoop up.

Vlad puzzled over this dilemma. On Day Three, he tried out a wooden crossroads of two sticks, tied together with string, to keep the mouth of the bucket open during the filling process. He used a gear box strap to tie up the bucket handle, to prevent spilling. This contraption worked pretty well, until Kevin's son, B., lost the sticks in the lake.

The weather did clear enough so that the adults who wanted to go out on an evening paddle could do so. I chose to stay back at camp and wash my hair. I snagged the stock pot, and found an isolated piece of beach to scrub my scalp. I filled the pot with lake water, and used this to wet and rinse my hair, since it was too cold to go into the lake for a swim. I must of looked like a yetti, with my hair all wild and wearing my camo rainjacket to keep my shirt dry. Pirate Jay's son, Lower Case Jay, was skipping rocks on the beach when I walked out to the water's edge to dump the pot of water. I scared the crud out of him.

Day Three did bring some relief for Tee and me-- we no longer were the keepers of the cheese. Day Three's meal was individual pizzas, and our group had a dry bag filled with packets of shredded cheese. It was our job to park this bag into the lake when we set up camp; make sure it didn't float off or land on shore, thus becoming too warm; and we had to remember to pull it out of the lake and drag it with us to the next camp site. We both were so happy to let all that cheese get eaten up.

Speaking of Cramps...

This entry will get a little personal, so if you are squeamish, or put off by "women's issues," I suggest you skip this one and wait with bated breath for my next entry.

Speaking of cramps, I was experiencing some of my own. On Day One, I chalked it up to the intensity of the portage, and the weight on my back. By the middle of Day Two, I knew that my ovaries were tap dancing, and my uterus decided to dance along. Damn it all, those stupid birth control pills didn't work!

For three months prior to leaving for Canada, I took birth control pills, to (hopefully) keep myself period free while on the circuit. The "white pill" period started the Sunday before we left, so I skipped them and continued with the yellow pills, which contain the birth control juju. I was doing just dandy, thank you, until Day Two. My cramps increased, and yes, the vermilion Lady M decided to pay me a visit.

Not only did she decide to pay me a visit, she canoed along with me until our last night on the circuit. This was the longest period I've ever had. And did I mention there were two ziploc bags I forgot at home? The first one-- I forget what it had in it, and in the end it didn't really matter, because the second one I forgot contained my just-in-case stash of "feminine hygiene products." I became quite creative with the 8 travel-size kleenix packets I brought along as my second luxury item. Even with them, however, I bled on everything I brought with me. Thank goodness most of my pants were black, and my fleece pj pants were too thick to bleed through.

The "Be careful, or the bears will get you" video didn't specifically mention anything about menstrating and attracting bears, but it was in the back of my mind. We saw bear scat right on the portage trails on Day One, so I know they were within the vicinity. I brought along a big pack of body wipes, so I could sponge bathe, but I did worry about the lingering blood smell. Thank goodness all of us stunk-- my stench wasn't any worse than anyone else's.

Also, rinsing out my clothes wasn't much of an option. I washed my Day One shirt in the lake on Day Two, before it rained. Even with the quick drying material my shirt was made out of, my shirt didn't dry until Day Four, because the weather was so crappy. I took every opportunity to dry that stupid shirt over the camp fire, in between squalls.

Day Two on the Circuit

On Day Two, I realized I was going to have to gently assert myself and do most of my own canoe packing and assigned jobs, or by the end of the trip the men in our group would resent me. Being of a "gentleman" mind set, most of the guys offered to help Tee and me load and unload our canoe, help with our jobs and offered me their seat if one of the kids nicked mine. The oldest guy in our group would say something to this effect, "Here, let me do that. This is man's work." He'd say this even though I'm almost 15 years younger than him.

Through out our time on the circuit, though, Tee and I needed help getting that darned canoe onto the cart. The easiest way to place the cart correctly, it turns out, is to have one person line it up with the thwart in the middle of the canoe while the other person lifts one end of the canoe high into the air. After lining it up, the cart person slides it into place under the canoe, and the canoe person sets his load down on the cart. Neither Tee or I could heft the canoe up high enough to slide the cart into place, so we'd have to be humble and accept help with this job, although we tried each portage to do it for ourselves.

My biggest obstacle in getting the canoe loaded or unloaded was Tee. He'd meander around the shore, or take his time getting his canoeing gloves on or off. Tee's biggest obstacle in helping with this task was me. I'd tell him to pick up the pace, and he'd stop to defend himself. This chore was definitely an exercise of patience for both of us.

We got out on Indianpoint Lake a bit late. We also saw our first moose on Day Two, and spent a long time watching the bull moose eat and wander around in the mud. When we portaged from Indianpoint to Isaac Lake, and started to paddle, the wind kicked up. I don't know if it was nerves, or some sort of reaction to the Day One's dinner, but Tee experienced painful stomach cramps. We paddled through some large waves, but they didn't reach whitecap size. When we stopped for lunch, I asked Pirate Jay if the group could stay closer together, in case we ran into trouble before we reached camp. He was okay with that, but some of the boys didn't like it when the group was paddling, since we were struggling to keep up. Before the end of the circuit, we earned the nickname "the Turtle Brigade." Vlad used it on the sly, but I overheard him refer to us that way a few times.

By the time we reached Day Two's campsite, Tee was in tears, his stomach hurt so bad. He sat in the bow, which is the powerhouse of the canoe duo, so he had to work extra hard to pull us through the waves. After we set up our tent, he took two peptobismal tablets and slept for over an hour, while the other boys swam in the middle of the lake with Vlad, Ike and Pirate Jay.

Renton, Kevin and I stayed behind, at camp. Kevin took this opportunity to sneak off for a while and smoke one of his contraband cigars. He'd snuck them into his pack, even though L. had told him to leave them at home. Since the boys were otherwise occupied, I certainly didn't see any harm in him sitting by the lake to enjoy a smoke. My only concern was how he was going to put it out, so no impromptu fire blazed. I was under the impression that he put it out in the lake, but I never saw him smoke, so it's still a mystery to me.

When Tee woke up, he was 100% better. He worked with Renton to make our dinner. We huddled under our tarp, eating chili, as it rained. This was the first incident (of numerous periods) of heavy rain we'd experience on the Bowron circuit. We weren't so giddy during this evening.

Walking up in Seattle

When Rosie works at the zoo, I usually walk at a nearby lake. I enjoy the challenge to myself, trying to beat my previous time, and the people watching is supreme.

Folks of all ages, and physical abilities, wander, speed walk, jog and run around this lake. There was this older gentleman who was out for a walk the last time I was there, and he was so cute. He sported a day pack and a trim beret on his head. He had on black socks with his neat khaki shorts, and walked quite quickly with his cane.

It amazes me how dedicated the runner types are. This one guy's nose was bloody. A rivulet of blood ran from his nose, down his chin, onto his bare chest. Yet, he kept his pace and ran as fast as he could. In my opinion, that's too much dedication, and after seeing him, I didn't dare fill up my waterbottle again, because I could see him stoppping at any of the water fountains to clean up. EEEWWW.

The vast majority of walkers were moms with strollers, chatting on cell phones. I passed at least a dozen of them. I don't get that-- the lake is gorgeous; the boats on it are so fun to watch. Plus, as I mentioned, the people watching is supreme. Think of all they miss while they blather on the phone.

I'm still recovering from my last walk there, however. My walking shoes were toast, as were the socks I wore. A big, huge, humongous blister formed on the balls of my feet, and the one on my right foot popped =(. I did all that portaging in Canada with no incident, only to come back to the Seattle area and hobble myself. I promptly went out and bought a new pair of walking shoes!

Friday, July 21, 2006

Day One on the Circuit

For Day One on the circuit, we had to get all of our stuff to the park's registration center and load up our canoes, after getting the gear going into our canoes weighed. The park allows only 60 pounds of gear to be loaded into canoes. If you load more than that, the trails you use through out the park will get mucked up by the heavy loads, producing nasty ruts and pot holes.

Day one on the circuit actually contains about three miles of walking. Portaging, that is. This is where you carry your stuff, including your canoe, around water obstacles. Most people use a cart to lug their canoes on these trails. We were no different. That's why there's the weight deal, because the wheels get bogged down on wet trails, causing the ruts and pot holes. These extra obstacles make potaging a real bitch, so I completely understand the concern about weight.

So, we arrived at the registration center with all of our gear, our canoes and carts. As we unloaded the canoes from the truck, Renton, my friend D.'s husband, realized that he'd left his waterbottle somewhere. He couldn't go out for eight days without his waterbottle. The guy who delivered our canoes needed to run back to his shop to get three more bailers and bowlines for our canoes, so Renton hopped a ride with him to hunt for his water bottle. D. told me that Renton, and her son Little Dee, were notorious for leaving things behind, so I got a quiet chuckle from this mishap. He was pretty sure he'd left it in the car he rode in on the way to the center, which narrowed down his possible hunting places.

The commotion associated with this whole process was immense. Our gear boxes were weighed by a park employee. We'd hope and pray during the weighing, because unloading a few pounds of our pack gear into the canoe would be a nice deal. Tee and I lucked out-- eight pounds of our pack gear could ride in our canoe, so in went the little chairs we brought with us. I know this sounds like a vain luxury, but keep in mind that none of the sites without shelters have picnic tables (only three of the sites we camped at had shelters, and two were very far away from our sites). Only crude benches are nestled around the site camp fire grates, and when they get wet they're slimy.

And what about our backpacks? Is anyone curious about how much they weighed? Before L. and J. left, my pack weighed 36 pounds, with my chair and an empty waterbottle. Tee's weighed 30 pounds, with no chair and an empty waterbottle.

With their departure, we had a major change of tenting arrangements, because of the extra weight we'd all have to carry. Our group was down one canoe. They were slated to carry all the tents, so each canoe duo had to carry their tents now. We ditched the tents the boys were going to use, in favor of each parent tenting with their own child. This way, we brought along six tents instead of eight. Tee and I squished our tent into a smaller dry bag, which Tee carried, and I carried the tent poles and pegs. So, once we put our chairs into our canoe and filled our 32 oz. waterbottles, both our packs weighed around 36 pounds.

Renton didn't get back until most of the boxes were weighed. He was successful in locating his bottle, and would not have to beg for sips of water from other members of the group. This was a huge relief for him.

Getting our canoes to balance on the carts, with weight inside, was a chore. We had a ten minutes tutorial on this task before L. left the day before. We received a few more pointers from the canoe delivery guy, but it turned out that the best tutorial was just doing it as we muddled through our way around the circuit.

After watching the scary "Be careful, or the bears will get you" video, and receiving our orange garbage bag (which doubles as a rescue flag when placed on your canoe paddle; Tee quipped on day four, "That is so stupid. We haven't even seen a ranger. Who'd even be around to see you waving your paddle as your canoe sinks?"), we were ready to trudge up the hill and portage to Kibbee Lake.

L. told us repeatedly that the first two portages of the circuit, both during Day One, were the hardest. This kept me going, I admit, as we reached the crest of a hill, only to see another hill in front of us. Tee and I didn't get very far before Vlad, the firefighter, offered to help me with our canoe, while Tee helped his son E. with theirs. Tee and I had done a poor job of balancing our canoe, so it was extremely difficult to portage. Vlad and I didn't comprehend this, however, until we went to balance the canoe for the second portage.

I'm very grateful to Vlad and E., because there was plenty of "asshole" potential, with my huffing and puffing up those hills, and the way we loaded our canoe. Instead, they were kind and just helped us without ill comment. During the first portage was the initial glimpse I got of the way Vlad's mind works things out to make tasks run smoother. He created a harness out of the bowline on his canoe, so Tee or E. could hook themselves up to it and pull the canoe up the hills. It worked like a dream.

I'm proud of myself for making it through both of these portages without keeling over because some of the hills were very strenuous and Vlad and I never dumped our canoe off of the cart (the guys in front of us did it five times; he whispered to me, "Let's not be like them."). Also, I'm 5' 3" and he's well over 6' tall, so one of his steps is like three of mine. I was doing double time up and down those hills. I needed twice the amount of rest breaks, but I made it without incident!

The first lake we canoed was Kibbee Lake, and it was pretty small and marshy. After the second portage, we canoed part of Indianpoint Lake, and when we set up camp, we were gleeful at the good weather we'd had all day. We knew the other group must have encountered some icky weather the day before, as they portaged, and our good fortune made us giddy.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

And then there were 12

Thankfully, our group did not go out on the circuit the same day L and J hightailed it to the border. We were scheduled to check out Barkersville, a gold rush town that's been preserved from that era. People dress in period clothing and give guided tours as key players from the town's inception. The buildings are original, rebuilt after the fire of 1868, which burned down the whole town.

I was glad to have this diversion; it kept my mind from dwelling on the fact we'd be heading out without an experienced guide. I'd say that all the other adults held similiar opinions. We each experienced moments of trepidation.

All the adults had lunch together, and the restaurant in the China Town portion of Barkersville. This gave us the opportunity to start to gel as a group, and get to know each other. BTW, if you ever visit Barkersville, stop by this restaurant and order the spicy wonton. I can't say enough good things about this dish. Excellent!

Each of us took a turn panning for gold. I think I walked away from that experience a $1.50 richer. It was quite fun, and not as easy as it looks.

About 3:30pm, vicious dust devils started to whip through town. The stage coach ride shut down, because dust was getting into the horses' eyes. At 4:00pm, a torrential downpour hit. We had to sprint to our cars, and we still were drenched. Little did we know this was an omen for our week.

Monday, July 17, 2006

I didn't get gobbled up by a bear...

... and neither did Tee.

We made it back from the Great White North. Our canoe trip was a success, even in the face of a few difficulties.

First, let me tell you about the canoe circuit we traversed. Tee and I canoed the Bowron Circuit, which is a big part of Bowron Lake Provincial Park, located in eastern British Columbia. The circuit is a chain of 14 lakes and 3 rivers, laid out in a rectangular fashion. As the crow flies, the length is 82 miles of canoeing. For those of us who experienced some issues with keeping our canoe straight (we won't mention any names), the actual canoeing miles is probably closer to 100. In addition, there were several spots where our group would hug the shore, due to the weather.

We were in a twelve person group, and we canoed the circuit in eight days. Originally, we were to be a fourteen person group, but our leader, L, (and coincidentally, the only person who had done the circuit before) had to drive his son, J, home. J fell out of a top bunk in the cabin he was staying in, pre-trip, and broke his arm. After a few hour tutorial on the circuit, we morphed into a group of twelve gifted with a reluctant leader, Pirate Jay. I think all of us experienced pangs of panic when L and J drove out of sight.

Pirate Jay turned out to be a terrific leader. He's an experienced outdoorsman and canoeist. He's laid back and uses his sharp sense of humor to lift low moral. It rained on the circuit every day; on one lake, I swear it was rain/snow mix. When it was cold and wet, it was difficult to maintain a positive outlook on life, but then Pirate Jay would blurt out some deal, and he'd have us all laughing within a few minutes, and life looked much better.

I have more to describe about the trip, but I'll do it in smaller batches. Anyway, I'm glad to be home. I missed Lew, Rosie, Zander and Tony very much. I think Lew missed us as well. I received a phone call from him the nanosecond my cell phone started to receive reception again. He attended his family reunion in Eastern Washington, but broke camp to come back and be with us when we got home. We arrived home within five minutes of each other.

Sunday, July 09, 2006

Yak Attack

Yak Attack
As you know LewLew is on vacation. The Ubertrusty Lew here feeling some obligation to carry some wealth of information to the masses(or at least you folks who have read this blog). I have a quick garden update and then on to important stuff. I have taken over the reigns in the garden dept. Yes, I got out the hose. Turned it on, whew. What next? The harvest? Better wait til I turn off the water. Yahoooweee!! We have sugar snap peas, ready to wash, and eat. At least a dozen or more. I decided to fertilize and water all the plants in the house and garden. The plants on the front porch are looking a little, ok, a lot wilty. At least I still have another week to nurse them back.
The Good stuff!
Rosie has decided to give her mother the gift of a clean room. I started wondering when she was so bored this week she cleaned the kitchen without being asked. This kind of thing rarely happens at our house, and usually warrants a bear hug, and/or cash. In this case both! She worked at it all day, unearthing three garbage sacks full of crap from under her bed, sorting the good crap from the bad. And, finally moving it all to the living room so she could rearrange her bed. She was so proud of herself. I`m sure LewLew will be proud too. Do something to make yourself proud today. I did! Lew

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

see you on the flip flop

I'm out of town for the next ten days. Check out what the wiki has to say about Albrecht Durer; I hope this will whet your art appetites until I get home.

My husband, Lew, might try out blogging while I'm gone. Check in every now and then, to see if he's posted anything.

See you soon!