Jerry and I just returned from our hike around Mount Rainier. It was too glorious for words. Somehow, though, I'm going to have to come up with words, because I'm writing a story about it for the paper. In the meantime, do you want to see photos? I sure enjoyed taking them, I hope you enjoying looking at them.


( Go look at the photos. Warning, there are a lot. But they're really pretty. )

Look! I made this!





Using this!





(If you look at the TV, you'll see the obvious sign of another obsession. "Star Trek." It's delighfully cheesy. Perfect for knitting or spinning as the cheesy soundtrak makes it very clear when you need to look at the screen.)



Sadly, this is not my spinning wheel. Eventually it will have to go home to its real owner, the lovely Katie who is teaching me how to spin. Now I just need to find a wheel of my own ...

This year, summer has hit me hard.

The sun and warmth arrived and WHAM I'm 18 years old again, planning to skip class.

Sadly, I'm now 29 and I can no longer skip out of class. I like my job. In fact, I love my job. But, when I wake up to the sun streaming in the window, I start to make up excuses in my head. I have a sore throat. Is that a headache coming on? I have a splinter. I'm deficient in Vitamin D. Can you call in sick for a vitamin deficiency?

I haven't called in sick, and I don't plan to, but this amazing weather is sure making me want to. We haven't had rain for weeks. That's bad for the garden, but apparently great for my mental outlook.

In the last few weeks, I've had lots of chances to get outside. I've played in the garden. We painted the fence (with a lot of help!). I've walked the dog and ate shared breakfast outside with the chickens.

I'm also busy. Busy, busy, busy. I've overbooked my summer. It's all good stuff, but the jammed schedule stresses me out a bit. At least until I walk outside and the sun soaks straight into my bones. Then I can think of nothing except how glorious it is to the live in the Northwest. If I lived somewhere like Hawaii, I wouldn't appreciate the glory of a perfect summer.

And trust me, I appreciate this summer. I'm so thankful for all this sun and all the fun.

Last night Jerry came home wearing biking clothes and some blood.

Turns out he'd had a crash. Why? Oh, because a baby alpaca had smiled at him. Yes, that's right. My husband was so busy watching a baby alpaca, he bit it on his commute home.

"It looked like it was smiling at me!" he told us over dinner, while we teased him.

He's fine. Nothing is damaged. (I don't think his pride was even dented. His pride is resilient.)

What makes this even funnier is that the only other bad crash he's had was caused by another animal, in that case, though, it was a chihuahua.

Costa Rica

Jerry and I recently visited family in Costa Rica. It was awesome. Here are some photos, stories to come later.

This is what I did today. (Well, I also went to work and did some stuff there. But trust me, you don't want to hear about that.)



These are our bees. If you're curious, I posted about it earlier over here.

I'll have more from the bees soon.

I'm leaving early tomorrow morning to take the bus to Seattle, and then the train to Salem.

I'm going to hang out at Steff and Jim's place for several days, and then do a long bike ride on Sunday. Jerry will join us on Friday or Saturday and ride with us on Sunday.

I'm really looking forward to this little break. I love that I have friends that I can say "Hey, I wanna come lounge around your house for days, do you mind?" Not only do they not mind, I think they'll be glad to have me, judging by the list of things Steff has for us to do. Ballet. Book club. Blackberries.

I've promised to attack the blackberries in her yard. It's in my best interest, as they are eating her grape vines, and I have a thing for fresh grapes. (By a thing I mean I think they were sent down from heaven just for me. Also, if it were possible I would eat nothing else. Sadly, I would starve most of the year.)

We may also do some running and biking and for sure we'll do a lot of laughing. Also, there will be eating, while Jim shows off his new smoker and his cooking skills.

I think I'll go to bed now, as I'm supposed to be getting up in six hours. I've packed my knitting and the iPod is charging. I'm set.

... We were doing this.



That was a damn good party. We ate, drank and partied surrounded by the people we love. We joked and laughed and listened to some great music. We danced with each other. We danced with our friends. We watched our families and friends all party together. I can't imagine a better way to kick off a marriage.

I've really loved these three years, Honey. Wanna renew the subscription for another three?

I looked up from my shower today to discover a chicken peering at me.

A chicken. Looking at me over the top of the shower curtain.

My husband has a weird sense of humor.

Someone injected the Northwest with a Giant Shot of Happy. In other parts of the world, they call it the sun. Around here we call it "better than Prozac."

I spent the weekend in the sun and dirt. It was glorious. Now I have to actually go work, but it'll be OK, because I still have enough vitamin D to see me through the hours indoors.

This went in the mail today to go to Steff. She made me the most adorable project bag for my knitting. This is her gift in return. I love the project, it's Calorimety from Knitty, which half of the knitters in the world seem to have made. It's Lambs Pride bulky. I loved knitting with this. It's soft and smooth and makes a great knitted fabric.

I really like the button. It's a cute little stone. I'm somewhat worried it's going to be too heavy, but it seemed OK when I tried it on.

I have finished the first book of 2009. How horrible is that? It took my more than three months to finish a book.

Sigh.

Moving beyond that, this was a great book and very enjoyable. The main character is a horsebreaker in Oregon in the early 20th century. The best way I can describe this book is gentle. The main character, Martha, is gentle and that sentiment seems to reach through all the book. Many of the topics addresses are far from gentle, though, including racism and some of the uglier sides of human nature.

As I was first reading, I though that the author was only superficially introducing most of the characters, but I'd changed my mind by the end. There are many characters and you don't spend much time with any other than Martha. But what the author shows is telling. She is particularly good at showing how the many people in the community interact and rely on or avoid each other. I can truly believe that there is an entire, full formed society going on just beyond her words. She shows you the surface, but paints it so clearly, it's easy to picture a full life.

I will say I think the book wraps up to fast, but I hope someone else will read it and tell me what they think.

Overall, great book. I loved all the horses in it. Thanks, Steff, for the gift.

After a lot of time with a calendar and a map, here's our plan for a trip around Mount Rainier this summer. (Crossing my fingers we get a permit.)


Day 1. Longmire --> Devil's Dream. 5.9 miles
Day 2. Devil's Dream --> Klapatche. 10.2 miles
Day 3. Klapatche --> Golden Lakes. 7.7 miles.
Day 4. Golden Lakes --> Mowich. 10 miles
Day 5. Mowich --> Carbon River, via Spray Park. 8.3 miles.
Day 6. Carbon River --> Redstone. 7.4 miles (plus optional 1.6 miles to see natural bridge).
Day 7. Redstone --> Berkeley Park. 8.5 miles.
Day 8. Berkeley Park --> Sunrise. 3.9 miles

I'm happy with this plan. I'd love to be able to spend two nights at one camp, but that's just not going to happen. Jerry doesn't have enough vacation, sadly. Maybe next time. Overall this is a very nice itinerary. The hardest days will be day 2 -- a long distance with a decent amount of climbing -- and days 6 and 7 -- which is over a section of trail that the guidebook describes as "impressively punishing."


In further travel-related news, we just booked tickets to Costa Rica. There aren't words to explain how excited I am about this.

Today, as Jerry was leaving to play basketball, he stopped me before I got in the shower.

"Hun? Would you take the stuff out of the dryer? It's almost done."

"Sure, I'll get it," I told him, and headed back toward the shower.

"It's almost done," he said, and stared at me.

"I'm not getting it now*," I told him. "I need a shower."

"They'll be done in 10 minutes, though, it's better if you fold them while they're warm ..."

"Fine," I said. "I'll do them."

He left, satisfied, and I took my shower -- much shorter than I had planned. I got dressed and went downstairs (before making dinner, I add) so I could get the warm clothes. It makes sense, you should take clothes out of the dryer while they are warm. Then you won't get creases that require *shudder* ironing. (Or, another, rather energy wasteful spin in the dryer.) I know of no other reason why things must come out of the dryer warm.

So I walked down to the dryer, and what did I find? Not clothes. Towels. A few other things, too, but not one single garment.

Obviously he and I are living in different houses. Because in the house I live in, it doesn't matter one stinkin' bit if the towels (or any other item we will not wear) are wrinkly.

You're welcome, Honey. The fresh towels (not wrinkly) are in the closet.


* I should note that Jerry and I have a very different philosophy about "now." I procrastinate. He does not. If he leaves for the weekend without doing a chore (even if we are in a hurry and need to leave soon) he will fret about that chore all weekend. This means that the things that he counts as his chores always get done. The things that I count as my chores get done. Eventually.

Today was glorious. Sunny, warm, beautiful. Sadly, I was working, but I did get off early enough to enjoy a bit of sun.

I found this in the coop today:




The girls are all laying again! Yay!

I'm always fascinated with the eggs, and how they are all slightly different colors.

Every year, about this time, the birds start singing and I start calling my mom.

"Mom? I heard this bird. It sounds like 'Eeeeeevvvvvvweeeep.' What is it?"

"Where are you?" she always asks.

I tell her. In the woods. Near a river. By a huge tree.

She pauses. "So, is it like 'EEEEEEeeeeeeevvwip' or like 'EeevvvWIP?'"

This is an annual tradition. She can almost alwasy name the bird for me.

This year we've made our conversation high tech. This the note she sent me on Facebook.



Ok, Varied thrush.

Eeeeeeee... (imagine smaller fonts, off - key)

long enough pause, you think it won't repeat

Eurrreuurrreuurrrr....(imagine small fonts again, off-key)

long enough pause, you think it won't repeat

AhhhAAAhAAAh...(imagine small fonts again, off-key)



I love my mom.

I spent last weekend at a fiber arts festival. More precisely, I spent the weekend at Madrona in Tacoma.

It was like a little piece of heaven. Knitters were everywhere. Spinners were everywhere. Everyone was wearing stunning handknits, and no one thought you were weird if you fondled the edge of their scarf.

I spent a lot of money on yarn, but got every scent out of it (ha! Just noticed I typed "scent" but I'm leaving it, because I have this thing about sniffing yarn. What? Is that weird?) I came home with cashmere, silk/merino and this crazy thing called tencel. To be honest, I don't even know what tencel is, but let me tell you, it's glorious and I am going to make a shawl. Yes, a shawl. I don't even know if I wear shawls, but I have to make one. They had a sample of it hanging up and it was stunning.

Deciding to knit something I'm not sure I'll even wear solved a question I've been wondering about. In knitting, there are process knitters and product knitters. Some knitters fall into both categories, but most are pretty firmly one or the other. For process knitters, it's all about the process. They love the feel of yarn and delight in new skills and the actual process of making thing. Product knitters love the beauty of a knitted item, and what really gets them going is the idea of a warm, perfect hat or stellar sweater. A product knitter would never knit something they (or someone they know) might never use.

I was beginning to think recently that I am a process knitter. I decided this when I ran out of yarn on a recent trip. I was seriously considering ripping back what I had, and knitting it again. I had Suzanne with me, though, and I'm pretty sure this would have stopped her heart. She's a good friend (and pregnant) so this seemed like a bad idea. In this case, the problem was solved by a lucky visit to a yarn shop. So, I left Leavenworth without answering my question about product vs. process.

Now, though, I have answer. I'm going to knit a shawl. I have visions of wearing it with a slinky black dress, but that will probably never happen. I'm knitting it anyway. I think I'm going to put myself in the process knitter camp.

Not that I don't care about the products. I do. A lot.

Sorry, I got off track, I was talking about Madrona.

My favorite part of Madrona was a class with Stephanie-Pearl McPhee, aka the Yarn Harlot. The Yarn Harlot is a brilliant woman with a killer sense of humor. I've always loved her blog and her books. I wasn't able to get onto her class at first, but put myself on the wait list. I was thrilled when I got a call just a few days before Madrona to say there was a spot for me. I had to get up at 6:30 after working until midnight, but I'd do it again in a second.

Stephanie teaches a style of knitting called lever knitting, or Irish cottage knitting. It looks like this. This is what she was teaching us. It's fast, it's efficient. I'm entranced.

I learned many other things from her, and I'm already a faster knitter because of it. (I won't bore you all with it, but if you're a knitter and curious, ask. I'd be happy to share the tips.)

I also took a class from Ann Bourgeois of Philosopher's Wool. Ann taught fair-isle style knitting. Everyone in this class had already knit with two colors, so we got to try some really cool stuff, mainly cool twists and textures. (There is a video of Ann teaching basic fair-islehere.)

I had a moment of enlightentment during this class. I had always associated a particular smell with my Grandpa Norm. I never thought about it, but I just always thought it was the smell of boats. In this class though, Ann gaves us small bits of her yarn to use for our practice. I opened the bag and the smell hit me in the face. Her wool is very minimally processed and still has the fresh, sheepy, lanolin smell. Grandpa must have something wool that he wears, or used to wear, and that association has stuck with me.

I've been practicing the fun stuff I learned every since, and I'm obsessed. (Not that I needed a trip to a knitting festival to remind me of that.)

I haven't updated for awhile. And the longer I waited, the less I wanted to write. If you're going to be quiet for weeks, it seems like you should come back with something good. Well, I finally have something good.





Noro striped scarf. A friend bought the yarn and I knit it for his wife. I'm having a hard time letting this one go. I was tempted to tell him it was eaten by a giant moth. I work with him, though, so it would be hard to explain when I wore it everyday.

* I had a great ride today on Friday. She was happy to be outside in the sun, and so was I. Once she realized that horses were in the next field over, the ride got more interesting, but she was good.

* My housemates are tiedying stuff. Fun.

* The fire is going and I'm warm.

* I'm falling behind on my Scrabble games.

* I found a missing scarf. Whew. I was worried.

* I applied for a passport.