Puck

Just barely moved into our new homestead in the county and I began feeling a bit overwhelmed with the newness of the situation. I decided to surround myself with some familiarity in the form of a lake which I (and perhaps only I) frequent during the warmer months for fishing, swimming, and the like.
The aptly named “Lost Lake” (not the one in the Chuckanuts) is always a struggle to get to. All of the area surrounding this little gem is heavily logged, and due to this the logging roads frequently change. A compass and a map (or a GPS I suppose) are handy to have in this ever morphing maze of gravel and stumps. In addition to the logging road difficulty, the trail itself that leads to the lake is poorly maintained and requires more than a little tracking ability (and again a compass) to navigate. So, after some time orienting myself and scrambling over washed out trails and newly slain clear-cuts, I was somewhat shocked to see that the old familiar lake had itself transformed, and was covered in a seriously thick layer of ice. I could have been disappointed at this unusual scene but instead I took a new form of comfort in the ice blanketed water. Nostalgia flooded my memory as I stepped out and I recalled pond hockey and ice skating in the East coast when I was growing up. Had I been bolder (and perhaps was wearing a wet suit and water wings) I would have attempted a little shoe skating, but considering myself lucky that I hadn't already fallen in, I was content to walk a little ways out, turn around and begin my search for the trail back to the car. The fish were safe for another few weeks and I was feeling more at home than I had in a long time.
another one minute(ish)video

Ballast

There is nothing quite like being alone in a canoe above hundreds of feet of cold dark water. Lake Whatcom has, since my move here in 2007 been a source of unending wonder to me. I have swum, fished, paddled, and drank from this lake.

Today, I sat perched alone atop nearly 250 billion gallons of water, balanced delicately above almost 400 ft of nothingness. Except for a loon, a cormorant, and whatever lurked below, I was the only one to witness the rain fall on the placid deep.
paddle

Discount Bin

As Vesla goes back to work I am spending more and more time with my daughter. This new found companionship is both a blessing and a challenge. I am a new father but in no way does that make me a clueless one. The combination of being one of seven children, my natural gifts with animals and my creative mind give me a bit of an upper hand when it comes to parenting. It is still a bit draining when she won't take a bottle, or when I let her cry herself to sleep because there isn't anything I can do to sooth her.

Today though, those difficulties were far from my mind as I walked into the grocery store with Zilla under my arm. I was feeling proud and capable and I fielded the approving glances and coos from my fellow shoppers with grace and humility. I grabbed a shopping basket and quickly found the few items I was there for. In the checkout line, with Zilla still nestled in the crotch of my arm, I deftly placed my items on the belt and grabbed a box to place them in. As I paid, the couple next to me in line asked me how old she was and couldn't believe it when I said that she was already 3 months and a mere 10lbs (their son was 6 weeks and pushing 15). I began to explain that she was born small when a third couple got in line with another baby and a toddler and again asked how old she was, what her name was, told me that she was beautiful, etc... I beamed as Zilla smiled on cue and looked into my eyes. "What a good dad." said the elderly woman in the row next to me who apparently had been there for some time but I hadn't noticed. "Thanks" I said humbly and raised my hand as a gesture indicating that this "Super Dad" had to take his perfect daughter home.

So there I was, the model father with his organic produce in a recycled box with an audience of nearly a dozen smiling and wishing me well. I smiled back and began to take my leave. I waved once more and watched as each one of their approving expressions fell and were replaced by looks of horror and concern when I, without hesitation, placed Zilla into the box with the produce and pickles, picked the whole precious package up, and turned towards the door. This to me was the best way to carry each of the items without dropping any of them. To the newly formed grocery store parenting group this was a sign of ineptitude and perhaps even some sort of new child abuse. I hurried to the car before any of them could say a word and burst my already somewhat deflated ego bubble.

In my defense, there were no pineapples or artichokes in the box.

Little lumps of happiness.

Fall is in the air. I've donned my mid-weight jacket more than once and have felt comfortable in a knit hat in the evening. My excitement cannot be contained. Groan and mutter all you want oh sun worshipers. Give me a light mist and a thick gray cloud blanket. From the loam emerge little orange treasures. Ill find them all, and I won't share.

foundations

Today I wrote to one of my heroes and asked him for a bit of advice on shaping the rest of my life and career as a builder and artist. More specifically I commented on his blog because I couldn't find an email address. Here's a link to his blog: lloyd

I would encourage all who like beautiful handmade things to check out his books, they have been a great source of inspiration to me.

Nettlepants

Few things in this world make me happier than walking through the woods with my dog, no trail in site, and no sound but our combined footsteps and whatever animal life we startle. I hike alone in part because I enjoy the solitary experience of a man and his dog in the woods, but also in part because few people I know would enjoy our hiking method.

First of all, we go off of the trail as soon as we are able, often making progress painful and difficult. There's nothing quite like deciding whether to try and cross the thigh deep swamp or to brave the acres of eyeball high stinging nettles, and blackberry thorns (even with her fur coat Maple gets stung by nettles).

Secondly our pace is either blindingly fast or painfully slow, with very little in between. The speed at which we hike is dependent on a number of things, but primarily it has to do with whether we are trying to cover as much ground as possible, or are exploring a new area, leaving no stone or log unturned.

Third and perhaps the most annoying for someone wanting to hike with us is that we get distracted very easily. Maple will smell a year old scent of a grouse at the same time that I spot what I think is a bone or a mushroom several hundred yards away. Either of these new distractions will alter the course of travel sometimes for miles, until the scent grows cold or I realize that my Sasquatch skull was merely a plastic bag stuck on a burdock plant.

So, fair warning to those wanting to hike with me. I will take you on an adventure to a place that few have gone and few will go. I will find amazing things for you, like bones, plants, fossils, and mushrooms, and we will see amazing wildlife in their most natural state.

To experience all of this though you must endure serious physical and mental strain, including but not limited to: Nettle stings (sometimes in your eye), wet shoes, wet clothing of any kind, scratches from sticks, blackberry thorns, devils club, Maple claws etc... I will try and feed you weird wild foods that I think taste good but you will hate. Conversation will be strictly limited to clicks and whistles mostly directed at Maple. You will have to help carry the bones, fossils, and mushrooms back to the car through the swamp, and or field of nettles. I might fire a gun without warning at an empty beer can before putting it in my bag for later recycling. Oh, and finally, don't make plans because we wont get back before dark...

Anyone want to go for a hike?

Arts and Farts

I've started to draw again and have really enjoyed the process though the results are somewhat less than desired. I was inspired by some creative street art in Mexico the last time that I was there, and am copying the concept. Basically the idea is to draw on ceramic tiles and then adhere them to your desired showspace with construction adhesive or concrete. The result is that you can spend as much time as you need on the artwork and very little time installing the piece. I've been drawing mainly portraits from old books that I get for free at the library. Check it out!