i'm thinking that maybe i planted the peas a little too soon...

the pay sucks...

but my work has been used over 200 times since March which is something.

fawn illustration

today's quote from Zoe

"I'm 14 for God's sake. Maybe you were a delicate little snowflake when you were my age, but I'm not."

The Mallards Are Back!

After 20+ years I've learned that spring in the mountains doesn't mean warm sunshine, daffodils, and green grass. What it means are wetter snows, mud, and grey skies. Still, I've come to appreciate more subtle seasonal changes like the deer shedding and becoming raggedy, an occasional robin, and when Kitara & Moonbeam, driven by hormones, begin to wander outside of our yard. Another sign that winter is ending is when every year these two wild mallards (just back from migration) remember us and stand in our driveway waiting impatiently for someone to throw them some scratch.

now my car smells like ermine...

which, in case you were wondering, is kind of like musty, oniony, nachos. Our little friend is now living near the trail head to South Piney Canyon and I miss him already. He was even more beautiful than I had imagined and having wildlife like that living alongside of us is exactly why I love this place. But when we took over Elly's care for a friend we made a commitment to protect her. Luckily the canyon is about as close to heaven as you can find around here.

my very Hurley birthday

Yep, I'm a fangirl (well, maybe just a fan). Anyways, Zoe made me this amazing cake and played the Hurley doll's track "dude, I'm starving...I'm nowhere near that hungry" before she lit the candles. So happy birthday to me and if you've never read Jorge's blog click here.

Once Upon an Ermine...

Once upon a time there was an old red barn nestled deep in the forest and high in the mountains. It was home to three fat geese, one very special running duck, and an entire flock of pigeons. Legend has it that in years past when the snow would deepen owls came to the lovely red barn and ate the pigeons. The blog people who lived in the cabin next to the barn learned that during these times they had to shut the barn doors very tightly in order to protect their flock. And that became their custom; freedom and flight among the pines each summer followed by several months of snug and secure roosting. Because it was cold and the weather wicked, the pigeons agreed to this arrangement in exchange for fresh water and LOTS of seed. Life was good. Well, it was good until the blog people started counting birds each night after dinner. Mysteriously, and without a trace, some of their friends were disappearing. Since they weren't magic pigeons who could open doors and fly away, the blog people were perplexed. They started to worry. Worrying initiated searching, which resulted in adjusting and securing and fortifying the little barn. Nothing worked and finally there was only one pigeon left. This saddened everyone greatly because they were certain that no monsters big enough to eat an entire flock of anything could possibly get inside of that barn. But since they didn't know what else to do, they named the last pigeon Jeff (as in Probst, a tribute to being "sole survivor") and released him into the wintery sky where he flits about during the day before settling down each night to the safety of the cabin's eaves. The blog people were at peace with the monster in their barn because sometimes mystery is easier to live with than knowledge. But the barn would have none of it. It still had three noisy geese and one beautiful running duck to protect so one day (today), when the male blog person walked inside to deposit his bags of feed, the enchanted barn held back the cloak of secrecy, exposing the terrible monster. He was/is the most beautiful and fiercest of creatures you will ever lay eyes on but his greatest and most powerful magic of all, is his size. You see he is a very smart monster and knows that ferocity and power have nothing to do with being big. So he folded himself up into the tiniest body he could find, and then, just to make sure that noone would suspect him, he decided to make himself cute. REALLY cute. He made himself so cute and so little that he became practically invisible. Unfortunately, after having seen the terrible truth, the blog people became scared for the lovely running duck as there were no more pigeons to soothe the hungry beast. So right now as you read this, Elly, the only polka-dotted duck in these mountains, is sleeping inside of an empty guest house and boy is she mad!