Gettin' Wood!

Recently, I went with my husband for the first time to cut firewood.  We have a Forest Service permit, which allows us to cut four cords of wood.  In the past, he's gone by himself or with other men, but this time he asked me to come.  He said it would make me appreciate my warm house more in the winter.  He also told me that sometimes people are in the area shooting and asked if that would make me nervous.

It was then I knew that getting wood was either going to be really fun, or really, really nerve wracking!

The night before I promised that I would follow instructions quickly and carefully without (much) commentary.  The latter ended up not being that difficult, as it's hard to talk over a chain saw.  And with respect to the instructions part--well let's just say I was all about the 'quickly.'  With Forest Service permits, you are allowed to cut wood that is already on the ground (fallen trees) or trees that are standing but clearly dead.  (Note:  they call the latter 'widow makers.')  I knew that felling trees would probably be part of the day's operations, and I admit I was pretty nervous.  So the first time we picked one to cut, hubby handed me a sturdy branch and told me I was the 'pusher.'  He first cut a notch close to the ground on the side of the truck that we wanted the tree to fall.  As he prepared to cut on the opposite side (where we were standing) he told me to push well above his cut to encourage the tree to go where we wanted it to go (i.e. away from us).  He also said that as it begins to fall, I should move back and go stand on a particular tuft of grass.  He then began to cut into the tree and I pushed and watched.  The instant that dang tree started to fall, I leaped for the grass.  The tree landed exactly on target, and hubby turned to me and said "good job, but next time you don't need to throw your stick."  Noted.  

We ended up felling three trees.  He cut, I carried.  He said I had never looked sexier as I did while carrying wood.  I would beg to differ on that account, but it was a nice compliment nevertheless.  I'll also add that we didn't hang up any trees and that all three landed right where we targeted.  I'd like to think it was my innate mathematical ability that allowed me to triangulate the exact place and direction to push, but I think that would be a bit of an overstatement.  At any rate, we are half a cord closer to a full woodshed, and had a little bit of marital bonding to boot!  Not bad for a day's work!

 

Santosha

Yesterday my yoga instructor was speaking of santosha, or contentment.  It is one of the pillars of yoga, and (according to Wikipedia) is thought of as not requiring more than you have to achieve contentment. 

I posted on Sunday that summer brings a sense of contentment, but even still, I struggle with santosha.

It's not that I always want more, but I do often want better.  

I am a planner, a nest-egg stasher, I have big plans.  I think of the future, my thinking folds into worry.

Santosha.  Right.

When my grandfather passed away, I told my parents that I only wanted, really wanted, a couple things that were his.  I wanted more of the ducks that he carved, and I wanted the horseshoe that was over his shed. 

I got the horseshoe.  

You'll note it's upside down.   My father was quick to point this out to me, just as I once pointed it out to Grandpa.  "That's so the luck will drip on me every time I go through the door," was the response I got then, and the response I give now.

Now it's hanging on my garden shed.  In my backyard.  It's part of my home.  We've lived here five years now.  It's not the perfect house.  It's a little on the small side and the back part of the yard is still a little out of control, but we've made it so much more ours.  It's our little nest. 

And now the horseshoe hangs over my garden shed.  Every time I am feeling a little stressed, a little worried, I'll go hang out in my shed.

Maybe a little luck will drop on me.  My husband always says he'd rather be lucky than good.

Maybe I should worry less about things that I can't control, and just allow a little luck to works its magic every now and then.

Santosha. 

Grandpa's Shed

My shed, not yet as worn.

Contentment

Summer never seems that lazy to me.  In the winter, we go to bed early and sleep a lot under many blankets.  Not so in the summer.   The days are long and busy, filled with activities and trips and general craziness.  

It's been hot here lately.  Now don't get me wrong, I love summer, but 95 degrees with no air conditioning is hot.  And exhausting.  I keep reminding myself how much I love wearing shorts and skirts and sandals and how that is all going to come to a screeching halt soon with the advent of fall, and therefore I should not complain.  But hot is hot!  Hot makes me switch from dark beers and red wine to the lightest of whites and summer ales.  Hot makes me want to lay around with no part of my body touching any other part of my body.  Hot makes me tired!

I like the turning of the season that late August represents, even though it makes me a little nostalgic.  It's harvest time here on the Palouse.  It's time to celebrate the season and put food by for the winter.  It's time to celebrate new weddings and the anniversaries of old weddings, at least in my book.  It's time to watch "American Graffiti" or some other end of summer movie coming of age movie.  Hot makes sunflowers and tomatoes ripen!  Salsa time!

The late summer heat with earlier, cooler evenings also brings contentment to me.  In that way, maybe contentment is a form of laziness.  I don't worry so much if the house is perfectly neat.  I don't feel guilty if I can sleep in late or have a quiet afternoon.  The seasons are changing, and we're moving from the period of business to the period of dreams...

I've never had so many tomatoes this early!!

Dug the garlic today!

Beany teepee!

My happy sunflowers!

Salsa time!

The onions are lonely in this bed now!

Palouse August

I love sunflowers and harvest...they remind me of my wedding!

Another gratuitous flower farm picture!

August Days

What fun we've been having around here!  My husband is getting excited about the cyclocross season starting soon, my garden is producing a ton of food, and my son is enjoying playing with all his new friends, especially our new neighbors next door.  After a busy start, we are enjoying a few calmer days as we watch the wheat harvest come in.  For some reason, I love the smell of ripe wheat in the fields, even though it makes me sad in some respects because I know the summer is almost over.

We've been biking to the farmer's market almost every Saturday.  It really is the place to see and be seen around Moscow, and oh yeah, there's produce and food and crafts and flowers too.  I think this weekend we definitely need another outing to the flower farm and the pool.  What other summer things can we think of to do???

I love tea roses, especially ones that don't require pampering!

Stawberries, tomatoes, and peppers, oh my!

Purple potatoes!

I "inherited" a lot more linen this summer.  My mother brought me wonderful cutwork from my grandmother's house.  This piece was one of my favorites; I love the colors so much!  It makes me happy to use these pieces in my kitchen, just as it makes me happy to sleep under an old, loved, hand pieced quilt at night.  I like to think about the hands that made each piece, and wonder what the maker was thinking as she cut and sewed and seamed.  But then I wonder, would I want someone knowing what I was thinking one day when they look at something I've made?   Sometimes I stitch when I'm angry, or frustrated, or sad.  I often stitch when I am very happy and content.  A lot of time I stitch to pass time when traveling in a car, chatting away with the driver or occasionally interrupted to take a picture, restart a video, or pass a snack to someone.  And sometimes, I only think of really, really boring things when I stitch, such as "crap, is this row 8 or row 9" or "should I get up and fold laundry, or just sit here"?

Lots of life happens when stitching, gardening, and otherwise passing time in the summer!  Oh, for a few more weeks yet of warm days and pleasantly cool evenings!!

Montana Adventures

May rolled away lazily, June slipped by like a mountain stream, and July was intense.  So intense, in fact, that I'm just now getting to write about it, as the first week of August winds to a close.

The intensity came from a lot of different sources.  I was traveling for work-related projects, involving more long roadtrips, this time west to Wenatchee, WA and Hood River, OR instead of south to Boise.  Palouse friends were making use of beautiful weather by continuing the BBQ circuit, Moscow hosted the 30th annual Rendezvous in the Park music festival, and my parents were visiting.  

As a family, we took a trip to Whitefish and Glacier, MT.  It was my first foray into Montana as a destination, rather than a pass-through.  We loved it.  Whitefish was just our kind of town:  cute shops, a nice Main Street, a bustling train station, and a great LYS (Knit'n Needle).  I bought some beautiful Malabrigo yarn for a friend's Christmas present. We are definitely going back; we felt this was our recon trip and next time we would really do it right.  A little later in the season, perhaps, to avoid the crowds, or the first week the Going to the Sun road is open, before cars are allowed and bikes rule.  In addition to Whitefish next time we would stay on the eastern side.  The beautiful Montana prairie is a Siren song to me, and I'm getting increasingly fond of the east side of the mountains, any mountains.  Plus, there's a great train station in East Glacier!

Bear grass on Big Mountain in Whitefish

Whitefish Lake

Lake McDonald

Hubby at Avalanche Lake