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Micah turned eight yesterday. Over the weekend, we took a few of his buddies bowling and then to Bullwinkle’s Pizza to celebrate.  I realized that it was my eighth birthday that I remember so well, with a party at Peter Piper Pizza and gifts of My Little Ponies. I wonder if he’ll remember this one in the same light.  That’s a TON of pressure, if I think about it that way, but I won’t. I hope I’m getting this thing right. I think he still likes me, so that’s a good sign.

This is how I will always remember Micah, no matter how many teeth he looses or inches taller he grows. About 2 or 3, with his bright blond hair and his playful, curious nature. I’m the luckiest mama in the world.

Today is the last day of school. In just a few hours, I will be the mom of a fifth and a third grader–and a kindergartner!  I remember those days when I thought the baby and toddler years would last forever.  My how we have grown.  It’s no secret that I am overly sentimental, and I wonder sometimes if that means that I dwell too much in the past. But I’m not sure if that’s true.  The older my kids get, the more I love relishing in the now with them, and looking forward to what’s next.

Now that we have had a wonderful stretch of blue skies, I feel my winter skin breaking off.  My flowers are planted, the yard is exploding in green.  Everything is so fresh and alive. I was driving home from downtown this week, with the windows all rolled down, my hand rested on the door. I felt the warm wind rush over me and the physical sensation was intoxicating.  I now walk around in a haze, easily distracted by the growth of the grass or the hummingbird buzz I can feel on the back of my neck. Stopped in my tracks by the mingling smell of the skunk cabbage and the cottonwoods, instantly drunk after a deep breath. Reconnection with parts of me that I lost for a bit. Love sick, I think maybe, with spring.

We have so little faith in the ebb and flow of life, of love, of relationships. We leap at the flow of the tide and resist in terror its ebb. We are afraid it will never return. We insist on permanency, on duration, on continuity; when the only continuity possible, in life as in love, is in growth, in fluidity – in freedom, in the sense that the dancers are free, barely touching as they pass, but partners in the same pattern. -Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Our weekending was nice. The Folk Fest ended. Brian and I spent quite a chunk of time listening to an older gentleman talk about all his bits and baubles that he proudly wore.  He was such a character.

Saturday, my scouts worked the food drive, which raised over 8,000 pounds of non-perishables for the local food bank.  I’m proud of them and the sense of accomplishment they have now.  We had two boys over for the night. I thought it’d be nuts… but they were awesome.  Sometimes, I think it’s a little funny, what these Alaska kids do for fun.  But that’s a story for another day. Also, we had glorious sun. It was so nice and warm and wonderfully perfect.

Yesterday, we all (had to bribe the kids with money!) worked outside to clean up likely years worth of trash that has been uncovered by melting snow all over the yard.  Our house sits on or near what used to be cannery property in the early 20th century.  At one time it was all clear cut, but the forest has taken over in a major way.  We found a neat old metal pump in the woods.  I’m sure it’s the first of many relics we’ll uncover. I love that. Makes me think of the things we used to find at our house in Texas, which sat on the start of the Chisholm Trail.  I’m such a sucker for old junk with fabulous history.

Today, I’m thinking of my grandpa. He passed away six years ago today, death and tax day.  We always laugh at that. What I wouldn’t give for just another visit, a walk together to feed the cows or a corny joke.

I’m going to relish this beautiful day. After I convince Lola not to go to the beach in high heels.

Lola and I have been back from our trip to Texas for over a week now. I just can’t seem to sit down to write about it. It was amazing. Beautiful, emotional, grounding, just what I needed on so many levels.

We buried my uncle’s ashes on the family cemetery in a beautiful wooden box, made by his son and a friend. I caught up with cousins and felt the warm Texas sun on my shoulders. There were even sorely missed thunderstorms and the bluebonnets waved on the country roads as we made our way from Houston to Austin and back. Lola played in the Gulf of Mexico waters, splashing and running and laughing at the people who said “it’s too cold for such play!”

Yes, I needed a reminder of where I come from, where I am now, and what’s important and worthy of swirling and swishing in my brain. Truth is, I have been feeling incredibly low this winter… Getting away doesn’t really make the oppressive shit I bring upon myself any easier… but phew, I can breath again. Life is good, and damn I live in a beautiful place!  And (drum roll) my little sister is moving here!  I don’t know how long she’ll stay or wether or not she’ll love Alaska as I do, but it sure will be nice to have her. Knowing she is coming made leaving my family in Texas behind a little easier. And being away, wow, sure made me appreciate my own little family that I get to come home to.

The weather has turned back to typical August grey skies. Nights are cooling down more. I’ve even noticed that the Mountain Ash trees are starting to turn yellow. Is it really the brink of autumn? In Texas, I welcomed fall with all my being. Here… it’s great… but knowing that winter is right around the corner… um? For some reason, all I can conjure up are images of snow shovels.

As much as the thought of the looming cold, dark winter does not appeal to me, I am really enjoying sitting back and noticing nature’s transformation into it’s fall splendor.

We walked out to Point Louisa yesterday for some beach-combing. There are subtle differences in the land and wildlife. The colors are more orange now. The moss and lichen are going crazy. The snails are covering the seaweed by the thousands and the geese are flying in formation. South already? All the fireweed has turned to seed but the fields of clover are making the air smell heavenly.

We had an impromptu nature scavenger hunt, went tree climbing and found treasures for sketching. Bird did lots of bear hunting. Her favorite book right now is We’re Going on a Bear Hunt, and she loves to quote it: “swishy, swashy, swishy, swashy!”

My two favorite finds were a small green sponge and this strange piece of seaweed (?) that had the same exact texture of snake skin. I have no clue what either of them are. Any ideas? So cool! Also, check out this little piece of the ocean that looked just like a tiny brain. Slimy.

The boys were calling the long strands of kelp “whippie hippies” and tying them to their arms and legs. It was pretty darn funny to watch them–they looked like sea monsters!

Of course, the best part for me is sitting down to draw what I found. The kids walked around the small point with their notebooks and drew for at least an hour, coming back to show me their works of art every now and then. It makes this mama really happy to see her babies so inspired by the natural world. I hope they never lose their enthusiasm.

After our walk, we went by the school to see what teachers the boys will have this year. It turns out Mighty will have J’s wonderful first grade teacher for kinder! And J will be in class with some of his good buddies. We’re looking forward to the new school year as we welcome autumn.

I spent all weekend laying on various beaches in the sun. It was hovering around 80 both days–and it’s continuing today. Rapture! What an amazing send off to the last week of summer. The boys both start school next week so we are going to be out soaking up as much of this remaining warm sun as possible and having all our last minute fun. We have a big day of berry picking planned today: blueberries and raspberries!

J and I took a walk out to our neighborhood beach last night. He held my hand and we chatted about life. We collected the most beautiful oyster shells–ones that we’d never seen before but seemed to be in great abundance on this day. We found a giant red huckleberry bush and a gooseberry bush that we plan to go raid tomorrow. He pointed out neat things for me to take pictures of (like the beach grass that Daddy likes).

My boy is growing up. He rolls his eyes and says “whatever” when I tease him now. He has great ambition to play hard until school starts in two weeks. The house will be sadly quiet when that happens (though part of me is counting the hours). Sigh. As my dad would say (and back before that, I believe it was My Fair Lady), “He’s a good boy, he is.”

I’m lucky. And I realize how important it is for me to connect with all three of my kids on an individual level. On the rare instances that it happens now, I learn so much about their unique perspectives and quirky ideals. So much fun.

I’m in Seattle. All alone–for four whole days and three whole nights. There are days at home when the idea of such a nice break sounds heavenly. But honestly, I’m a little lonely. I really miss my family! Funny how that happens. I am trying to enjoy myself though. It’s certainly a nice, quiet time for me to refresh and get some perspective.

I haven’t been in a city since we moved back to Juneau in December. It’s crazy how shocking it is to be around so many people in one place again! I didn’t realize how accustomed I had become to being in the sticks. I do love a good city though: the culture, the anonymity, the sounds… and all the options. As long as I have the ultimate option of going back home to the wild.

I am not entirely here for pleasure but I do plan on a little shopping, a little museum hopping, and some serious eating of fine cuisine. Not to mention a whole lot of sleep in my hotel room. Sleep? What’s that!?

You just have to watch this.

I can’t stop laughing. I want to meet this person… and I have to admit that I would probably be just as enthusiastic. My favorite part is when he asks, “What does this mean!?”

This rainbow appeared as we were driving down the highway during a crazy storm in Montana last summer. It was probably one of the coolest rainbows I’ve ever seen.

I love salmon. They are good to eat, fun to catch, and fascinating to study. At this time of summer, the chum (or dog) salmon are spawning in Juneau. The streams are swollen with fish; so thick in the water, they are like spunky stepping stones across.

This would be a new sight for my Texan kids this year, so we pulled on our rubber boots, braved the curious binocular and umbrella-clad tourists, and went out into the wetlands of Gastineau Channel (right off the highway and near the hatchery).

Swollen was the stream. And stinky.

Mighty totally did not get that he couldn’t just reached in and grab one to take home and eat. After all, we have been unsuccessfully trying to hook a salmon for months now. I think once he saw the flesh decaying off their live bodies, he got the picture.

Our journey lead to all kinds of interesting questions. Mainly, the boys just could not comprehend how Pacific salmon return to the place they were born, after traveling thousands of miles, only to lay their eggs and die. They were curious to know why some species just don’t stick around to raise their young. And why does their flesh start rotting? All very good questions to which my answers were very rudimentary and I gave them the disclaimer that we’d do further research this coming week at the library.

Equally impressive as the spawning salmon were the hoards of bald eagles feasting on the abundance of readily available delicacies. Most of them were juvenile eagles, with their feathers not quite transformed to their familiar regal adult colors, with the bright white heads.

There really is nothing in this world that makes me catch my breath more than watching the eagles up here. I am stopped in my tracks every time I see one, which could be dozens of times in a day. It is such a treat and oh-so-magical.

When we returned home, the boys hadn’t gotten enough fish-watching, so they continued to observe their own little critters in their aquarium. Coincidentally, they noticed that one of our platies had babies! Sure as the sun sets, there are three little baby fishies swimming their tails off to stay alive. I need to make a trip to the pet store tomorrow to see how I can keep these little ones away from their carnivorous parents. Any ideas? I only remember my valiant attempts as a kid to raise hundreds of baby guppies… that always failed miserably.

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If you’d like to know more about the sustainability of Alaska’s wild seafood, check out the ASMI website. Alaska’s wild salmon habitats are being threatened by the farmed Atlantic salmon varieties, which are escaping from farming enclosures along the Pacific coast.  Support our fisheries by insisting on only wild salmon. Not only will you be helping in protecting our pristine environment, you’ll support the hard working fisherman that are such an important and enriching element in our society. As they say up here in Alaska, “Friends don’t let friends eat farmed fish!”

If you want a retro Ray Troll “Spawn Till You Die” t-shirt, you can buy one here from his fun store in Ketchikan.  :)

This last week was busy and wonderful. Lots of family time and fishing. Good food and beach walks. Berries and wildflowers. Some warm sunshine. Made pebble bracelets (inspired by Maya Made’s nature bracelets) with a roll of tape. Celebrated a great dad. We even got out on the water in our friend’s boat. And now I have lots more crab shucking ahead of me.

Happy solstice!