to the river

There are times when the only reasonable thing to do is strap my children into their carseats and drive away from our house. Away from dishes and laundry and dinner-that-should-be-made...usually we head for water...



The other evening was one such evening...



Mike was planning to hunt until dark, the afternoon was hot, the girls and I were feeling restless...



My daughters are becoming (to my absolute joy) complete river-rats...



It is a week until the first official day of fall, which in Montana, means very cold water...

but apparently no one told them that summer was (nearly) over,





although there were signs everywhere.





Oh, and Amelia looked up at this beautiful ancient tree and said Mama, look at this cottonwood, and is it wrong that I am more proud of that, than when she tells me the sounds each letter makes, or counts to eleventy-six?



We spent a few hours by the river, then drove the road back home slowly...singing along to all the CDs that have been in my car all summer,







savoring the air that still smelled like summer, windows rolled down, mountains rising purple in the distance, everywhere we looked.

gratitude

Lately, it has felt easy to forget the world. My average day's to-do list is full of actions that nurture my family and myself. I take the girls for walks, I make meals, I comfort and carry.

We don't have a television, so I usually stay in touch with the rest of the world by listening to the news on the radio. Often I feel I need to listen to the news with a hard heart...otherwise I cannot bear to listen at all. I haven't been very good at that whole 'hard-heart' thing lately. Maybe it's because my life feels so peaceful, so contented right now, but lately it seems that whenever I tune into the 'news' I am left somewhat devestated.

From the unimaginable violence in the eastern Congo, to the unimaginable ignorance of book burners here in our own country, to stories that are simply tragic; parents mourning lost children, veterans mourning the loss of their pre-war selves. I feel almost guilty for these steady sweet days I've been living.



It can be easy to forget that all these things happen in my world. It is the world I have planted my children into, so full of incredible beauty, joy, violence, and misunderstanding all together.



Where am I going with this? I'm not sure. Except that the other morning as I drove and listened to these stories, I was overwhelmed by such gratitude. Despite the loss, the divisions, the horrible ways people hurt each other...I am blessed with such a beautiful life.



I know I'm getting closer to the person I want to be. Because I carry this enormous gratitude with me every day, everywhere I go.

Gratitude for the mountains painted with morning sun, the foothills tumbling to the valley floor, creased and golden like rumpled bedsheets.



For the silver spray of sparrows that fly like light over my head, their collective sound like water moving over stones.

For the knowledge that everything we really need is within our reach, our means;
clean water from the spring up the road, food we grow and harvest, from our garden or the wild.



I think of mothers all over the world, and I am overwhelmed by my luck -
that when I put my children to bed at night, I have the luxury of knowing they will be safe until morning. I'm not putting them to bed in a tent in a refuge camp, or telling them that I'm sorry, but there's just nothing left to eat or drink.

There are so many mothers just like me that do not have that daily certainty, such a basic thing,
to want to protect and keep your children safe, healthy.



So I guess this gratitude is laced with empathy and a mindfullness of how delicate our world is. How delicate our lives are, our relationships with each other. How we must take the time to stop and breathe, and be greatful for those moments and connections that sustain us.

at the fair

Once a year, at the end of summer;



you can be kissed by a sheep,



witness unimaginable cuteness,


this looks like a stuffed animal, don't you think?

lounge with a prize pig,



cuddle with exotic creatures,



wander past lazy giants,


Aven went to the Ravalli County Fair last year on Friday. She had been born Monday. I'm not sure why I decided that was a good idea...but she was much more impressed this time around.



sympathize with a sweet donkey,



buy then use up all your tickets,



scream your head off next to a complete stranger,



find foods in all imaginable possible forms,



watch the sun go down,



and the lights come on.



Until next year...

one

For Aven's birthday, we planted a willow in the front yard.


Clearly, we need more trees...



Grampa was on hand to help with the planting...





Princess dresses were worn, because really, what better reason is there for princess dresses...?







Then there was cake...



helping mix frosting,







and digging in...







And the prequel...angel food cake made by grandma with a view of the lake...



Sweet Birthday!

a little closer

I've been taking my last few deep breaths of summer,

feeling fall approaching, every day a little closer.



We continue to expore our new valley; from running broad dirt roads, to picking our way along a barely-there antelope trail...





Me to Amelia: "I think there could be snakes living here, so let me know if you see a snake, okay?"
Amelia to Me: "Okay. Mama, let me know if you see a mouse, or a jaguar, or a polar bear, okay?"
Me to Amelia: "Okay."



I scavenged a giant cottonwood log from the barrel pit along the road and viola...a little bench for three - Mike did the actual construction, so I can't take all the credit...very fancy all around, I know...




Aven takes some of her first steps along the swather path in our back field.

Our garden this year is strange. Since we moved in June there was nowhere to plant the tomatoes and peppers I had started from seed in our kitchen window. Until we learned about straw bale gardening...which honestly doesn't seem like it should work...how dow you grow stuff without dirt? But I've actually been pretty impressed with it.... We top-dressed the bales with llama manure and this organic chicken manure fertilizer that Mike sells in his store, and the plants themselves look really healthy. Now if only I could do something about the number of growing days...Michelle Obama and I see a very large hoop house in my future...more on that (hopefully) to come!









they're supposed to be this color...

We've had a handful of red tomatoes this year (all from my 'Silvery Fir Tree' tomato plants - which produced red tomatoes last year before the middle of July - go find yourself some!) but nothing like years past. Looks like we'll be living off the remainder of last year's massive canning operation.

Next post I promise birthday pictures of this short person: