In which Stuff Happens, and i don’t write much about it.
Just reporting in to let you know I’m still alive. With the warmth and green of summer beckoning me outdoors so constantly, I find that I have little inclination to sit down and write. I am busy cooking, cleaning, and mothering. I have begun many new adventures in the art of bread/pasta/yoghurt/rice milk making. Successes all. Additionally, I have finally mastered—no, conquered—the art of the seed sprout, after many failed attempts. It turns out that my wheat berries were bad, or unsproutable anyway. If any of you out there are interested in such random acts of healthiness, I highly suggest you look into this. They don’t take a lot of effort once you get the hang of it. And they are so tasty and healthy—way better than a multi-vitamin. If I remember, I’ll come back to this topic in later days.
In my gardening adventures I find myself wondering more and more why I felt the need to try this tomato thing so much—they aren’t happy being almost rained to death here in good old Anchorage. Part of the problem may be that as I ruminate on the immanent failure of my tomatoes, I end up looking right over their unhappy shaggy shoulders and my glance falls directly on the most beautiful spinach, bok choy, kale, and broccoli leaves. They are lush, full, healthy, and thriving. Thank goodness. It does make me feel better about the whole nearly-dead tomato thing.
And, my child is suddenly a playground prodigy. Today she managed a ladder, went down a tall curly slide, and climbed up the side of a jungle gym, all while wearing the girly dress she insisted on today. When I caught her (gently) dumping rocks onto the head of the little boy who taught her all of these impressive moves, I was almost proud. She’s actually acting like a normal 2 year old at the playground! Maybe—just maybe—her days of whiny, tantrum, hold onto Mom’s legs days are over! Not that I want her to throw rocks at other kids, exactly.
Also, here are some more impressive photos of the wildlife at Denali:
Tolkat bears: the only place where they come as true blondes. Notice that spring had only just arrived by the end of May.
I know. Bad joke.