I am a lazy blogger. But seeing as how I write a blog that has no followers, I kind of don't feel bad about. I do believe that one day I will have followers, and maybe if they are crazy like I am when I find a cool blog, they will read deep into the annals of my ramblings and find this completely irrelevant post about what I was up to during the summer of 2013
Firstly, I have a job teaching environmental science to young day-campers in the metro-west area of Boston. Even if it is just glorified babysitting (which it is), I find myself rather amused by the activities we have for the children (searching for tadpoles, building forts, running around with rainbow streamers, looking under logs...) and I typically like the children themselves. In my aimless quest for the meaning of life, I have been allured by the field of environmental education and I really like the feelings this job give me. Plus I am home everyday by 1:30pm, even if I do go back into the woods to take pictures of Indian pipes I find with the kids.
|Monotropa Uniflora contains no chlorophyll. Instead it is a saprophyte, which means it uses its roots to suck up nutrients from decaying plant matter.|
|Excuse the poor quality phone pictures.|
Secondly, as this job is scheduled weekly, I am often finding myself with weeks off and time to travel. Lucky for me, AGP has a similarly lax schedule and we are often bounding off into the contiguous Norths for some pampered "roughing it". I spent a lovely week in a remote, off-the-grid cabin on a lake near Bangor, Maine that is only accessible by boat and spent the 4th of July weekend camping at Ricker Pond State Park near St. Johnsbury, Vermont. We mostly hiked, and I was ecstatic to forage up desserts of wild blueberries and june berries (commonly called Saskatoons in <3 Canada <3) atop Owls Head. We also visited Peacham Bog, Vermont's largest bog, and feasted our eyes upon pitcher plants with their stately flowers (while the deer flies feasted on us).
|A very well protected lake in Maine.|
|Saskatoons I photographed in Manitoba in 2009. These tasty berries are closely related to apples.|
We also have a new addition to the family-- of the feline kind!! I am happy to introduce Tina, our tiny friend, who braved the epic journey from South Dakota as we hauled the tiny house back home mere days after being spayed. In a wonderful tale of happy endings, Tina was the first cat at the Muddy Pumpkin that I loved, while also somehow being the least favorite cat on the farm-- to everyone, but especially the other cats. Tina experienced the brunt of the suffering at the hands (paws?) of the other 12 cats, who bullied her, chased her around, wouldn't let her near the house to eat, and pretty much forced her to live a solitary life on the prairie eating bugs and being really skinny. Except in reality she is super friendly. She is the most feral lap-cat I have ever encountered. So we decided to rescue her and now she spends her days lounging, climbing trees, cuddling, talking (she is one loud-mouthed cat), and getting fat. Expect an epic regarding Tina's story in the near future.
|Tina on the first day that I met her in South Dakota last year.|
|Tina on the car ride across country to her new home... she looks rather happy, doesn't she?|
But the best news of all is news that is becoming more and more real to me everyday. Guess what... I'm moving! To Vermont! Into a house! A freaking awesome house that has a river in the backyard and beyond that a state forest. I visited the house for the first time yesterday and nearly cried with joy in front of the home inspector. I won't spoil any of the beautiful details until I have pictures to share, but trust that I am nearly sick with joy even if I underplay it a bit. I just don't want to offend any sensitivities by constantly going around shouting: I AM MOVING INTO MY DREAM HOUSE *DIES*! Here are a few sneak peeks:
|The double-decker garage with barn-ish doors.|
|Nothing says "Vermont" like a post and beam frame and a metal roof!|
|A poor quality view of the fern-laced backyard and the decent towards the brook.|
Oh, and I STEPPED ON A WASP, barefoot. A huge black one unknown variety. Three days later and it still hurts. At least I can be sure that this all just isn't a dream.