this one's for haley

Clark was helping the scouts by delivering flyers about the upcoming food drive. Here's what happened:

Clark: Hi. We're helping the local food bank and we'll be back in a week to pick up non-perishable food. If you have anything you want to donate, just leave it by your door.

Lady: Well, this is low-income housing, so I'll probably be getting your food.

Door closes.
End of story.


'baring our souls and telling the most appalling secrets'

One of the classes I took this fall was a leadership class. My classmates and I did projects and case studies and a therapy-inducing 360 review to evaluate and develop our leadership capacity. As the culminating project, we were asked to write a "This I believe" essay to help us identify our core values. Writing the essay was an interesting experience; it made me realize that while my values don't change easily or often, the way I choose to express them does. Needless to say, there were drafts and drafts of drafts before I was finished. The hardest part was knowing that I would have to deliver it as a speech to my class. How much of your soul can you comfortably share with relative strangers? Turns out, not very much; I prepared to get uncomfortable. Some of my classmates' essays were deeply personal, sharing details about losing children, finding forgiveness, and developing or losing faith. Others were more of the bullet point variety. I think mine lay somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. Anyway, I figured if I could share it with them I could share it with you, so here it is:

December 2009

This I believe

I believe a culture that values education will thrive and grow. Education bears the fruit of tolerance, self-knowledge, and positive social change. I believe learning is its own reward and that those who believe money is their reward for education, will get it, and without much trouble but likely without much knowledge. While a college degree happens to be a strong social currency, Education and its applications are not and must not be confined to classrooms. Jed, a young student I met while working as a writing tutor, showed me this (names have, of course, been changed). He returned to college after serving a sentence for a felony conviction. While working together on his essays, he confided that by going to college, learning to focus on math and sociology and writing, he has also learned to control his anger. He now has some good friends, a scholarship, and a fresh start. I believe in education. I believe it is the best solution to long-term problems because it is the only long-term, transformative solution.

I believe in the power of food as a healing instrument and a means of cultural self-expression. Every day I make choices between options that are narrowed by a culture that is powered by corporations and industry. I have the power to take back my original, now invisible options. Common sense and communion and have given way to Gogurt and Gushers, fruit loops and high-fructose corn syrup. Before they came from multivitamins, nutrients came from food. Uncomplicated, unpackaged, unprocessed food. Last summer I found a part of myself as I learned to make cheese from milk as my great, great grandmother must have done, and yet another as I visited the farm where my food was grown and grew more vegetables in my own garden. I can comprehend, though vaguely, the complexities and joys of life halfway across the world as I parse a complicated curry or burn my first souffle. I believe Food is a way to simultaneously connect with the earth from which it came and the people who create meals from its bountiful ingredients. When I make deliberate choices about food, I recognize myself as a part of the whole.

I believe the mouth is one of the most important parts of the body. It is where nourishment enters body and the mind finds expression as ideas exit in the form of words. I believe that I, along with many others, would find more happiness and health if I guard more closely what goes in and what comes out. A large ship is indeed guided by a small rudder.

I believe in the transformative nature of words and ideas. Among others, Victor Hugo, Charles Dickens, and Harper Lee have shown me the power of words and parts of me are real products of their fictions. Scout’s innocence and evolving devotion to justice, Pip’s realization of his self-destructive search for external happiness, and Jean Val jean’s story of kindness, mercy, and personal redemption express some of the best parts of me and ideals to which I aspire.

Although I had read or been read to all my life, the first book I remember getting excited about is Johnny Tremain. I was ten, and my teacher had assigned the book. I read it twice, once for fun, and answered every question with a paragraph where a sentence would have sufficed. A new world had been opened. Reading has allowed me to glimpse the wonder of science, experience the beauty of a diverse humanity, and find companions in this human experience.

I believe that we are connected in ways we do not and cannot understand that are best expressed through literature. Poetry, once inaccessible to me, has given breath and validity to my own deepest emotions and core beliefs. With John Donne, I affirm that all mankind is of one author, no man is an island and that any man’s death diminishes me. I believe, like W.H. Auden, that we must love one another, or die. These words and ideas penned by great authors and poets have allowed me to think their thoughts and become, if only slightly, the product of their ideals. God bless Gutenberg.

Okay, bloggers, Consider yourselves "tagged." If you choose to blog a This I Believe essay, post a link in the comment section; I would love to read yours, now that I've borne my soul. It's a challenge, and knowing that someone else will read it changes the quality of the experience. You'll find instructions here. Who knows? You may like it so much that you'll want to go on the record by submitting it to the NPR Essay database.


the genuine (definite) article

Remember when Clark was studying his maths? Well, it was because he was prepping for the GRE and applying to graduate school. Now it's official; Clark is IN. He actually got notice over two weeks ago, sent in the commitment letter one week ago, but didn't want to announce to the world how awesome he is until things were squared away at work. Now things are squared, and Clark is awesome squared.

Beginning in January, Clark will be a graduate student in the Educational Technology Leadership program at The George Washington University (the 'The' is part of the name. Funny.). The program can be completed online; considering the field of study, it should be a great way to learn. With any luck, we'll graduate at the same time.


what to get your loved ones

available in blue, red, and green

. . . if you want them to have nightmares.


gobble, gobble

Sara asked, so you all get to know.
"Just curious - are you outright vegetarians or will you be feasting upon the turkey this thanksgiving?"

So glad you asked.

I think our friend Randy summed it up best when he said, "So, you don't eat meat, but you're not vegetarians."

It all started because I love food and I love to read, which eventually led to reading about food . . . how to cook it, bake it, roast, it grill it, grow it, spice it . . . and then I got to how it is processed*. I don't have to be too explicit (nor will I, for my bacon-loving friends' sake). But, I will say that don't ever want to a) eat animals as if they are just protein delivery systems, b) vote for unsound environmental practices with my dollars, or c) grace my system with extra hormones and antibiotics. We do eat meat if it falls outside those parameters (eg. chicken that lived a chickeny life, cows that eat grass instead of corn, etc.). It can be hard to find and it's expensive, so we don't do it often. I also feel better since I started eating meat sparingly, so I don't really miss it.

Last year we had a great Thanksgiving which involved a not-great, but free Tofurkey from PETA. This year PETA can keep its Tofurkeys. Ew! We got over the finding-substitutes-for-meat and this-dish-is-supposed-to-have-meat-in-it phase pretty quickly. Vegetable based meat substitutes are generally not a healthy or tasty option because they are so heavily processed, and the texture is always slightly off.

This year, I am happy to say, we found a turkey. My heritage turkey is currently living in Arimo, ID. On Tuesday, just before I pick him up, he will be killed (as humanely as possible) by a turkey farmer I met this summer. My turkey has lived his antibiotic/hormone free turkey life in an open field and eaten grass and bugs to his little heart's content. He is going to taste great with gravy and mashed potatoes. Which reminds me that I still need to blog about our CSA experience, which is good because there is nothing that motivates me to blog more than food and farming.

A happy harvest celebration to all.

*Reality-shattering reading list available upon request


fall fun

So, it's been a while since I've streamed my consciousness here. I just haven't really felt like writing. . . Well, maybe I have felt like writing, but I couldn't allow myself write recreationally when I have so much obligatory  writing to do (see Administrative Ethics. I never wrote this much in an English class). Anyway, here I am.

Fall has already melted . . . or, rather, frozen into winter around here, and I can't wait for Thanksgiving. Despite my loathing of all (most) things Halloween, I had fun taking the nieces and nephews trick-or-treating. This year Clark put together a great costume for the obligatory Halloween fun at work.

it was more effective in the dark - complete with flashing lights

I wasn't home most of the time he was constructing this amazing costume but every night after class I would come home and see the progress on his robot. One night while I was away, he got stuck in his costume - for an hour. Somehow, he got out of it without ruining it before I got home. I found a distressed-sounding text message much too late to be of any help.

In other news, Clark placed second at the poetry slam put on by the Eagle Rock Art Museum. It's a fun event that the museum puts on twice per year. The facilitator randomly assigns people in the audience to rate the poets and then she averages the scores. Before the finalists are announced,  she passes a hat to collect whatever the audience is willing to donate to the winner. Last spring Clark took first place. His winnings: $90 and some change, a half-empty pack of watermelon-flavored gum, and a cigarette. This time he made off with a gift card to Barnes and Noble.


doing maths

Clark has been studying his maths* lately. That may be a surprise. But there is an even bigger surprise: he's enjoying it. This makes me wonder.

Like many people, I didn't have many good experiences with math in my early years.

I see the math paralysis in the eyes of students who come to me in tears because they are near failing despite their hours with tutors in the math lab. Like them, I never savored college algebra. I saved my one required math class (statistics) until my last semester of college . . . and I understood it. I studied it. I even liked it.

So why do so many people fear math?

I have a theory about why. First, I think our brains were just not ready for it when it was first introduced to us as children. The power of abstract thought generally develops in early puberty; this ability is essential in order to understand how 'x' could possibly equal 42. So, that being said, can't we let kids perfect the basics before we mix the letters and the numbers?

Second, people who major in math or science and do well in school have many, many lucrative career options. These options must make teaching seem like full-time charity work. I'm sure that there are some very, very good teachers out there. I had an amazing physics teacher at HHS. (Thank you, Mr. Summerhayes.) I'm just saying that out of the six years I spend in secondary education, I only remember the name one math teacher. One. And I only remember him because he told so many painful, punny jokes.

*I first heard "maths" in plural form from a student from the UK, where, apparently, there is more than one math. Love it.



I have a confession.


There. I said it. Just so you know how serious this is, you have to know that I also hate all caps (QUIT YELLING, already) and excessive use of exclamation marks (use sparingly!!!! - overuse causes punctuation inflation).

I know some of you will protest, but I don't care. You can have your costume parties and your haunted houses . . . and your spiders and rats, and your masks and gory face paint, and your blood and maimed limbs, and your carved and smashed-in pumpkins. Enjoy. I'll be at home baking my pumpkin into a pie instead of carving it into a Jack-O-Lantern.

The past four years I have strategically, purposefully turned off all the lights or been gone that night. When we have littles, I will just buy them the candy they want on that day and we will go home and plan the menu for Thanksgiving.


by the numbers

Today is the first day of fall, which means 2009 is nearly three-fourths over.

For some reason, I often think about life and it's milestones in terms of ratios. I think it helps me to organize and conceptualize the past and make the future less chaotic and more manageable. Either that or it's some type of neurosis that I'm not quite ready to come to terms with. I'm not sure when I started doing this, but I think marking time this way stems from measuring life in context-specific intervals (terms/semesters in school, transfers on a mission, etc.).

So here it is, my life by the numbers:
  • I am 27; I have lived about one-third of my expected life span.
  • I have known Clark for one-third of my lifetime. We have been married for half of that time.
  • We've lived in Idaho over half of our married life.
  • Five years ago today, I came home from my mission . . . and that doesn't divide evenly into 27.
  • In December, I'll be three-fourths done with my degree.
  • I have finished one-fourth of this semester. Even though the work/school pace has been rigorous, I can definitely do this three more times. (This same logic works with exercise - one mile magically turns into two. Three, if you're lucky and optimistic. Try it; you'll like it).
  • There is still one-eighth of my farm share still to enjoy this harvest season (upcoming post - analysis of our first year of CSA membership).
Sometimes it's hard to quiet these numbers in my head (1/4th of my work day left, the week is half over, etc!). In the last months of my mission, I got a letter from Haley, who had then been home from her mission for a several months. In it, she said she had been home for 3 transfers (6 weeks each) and that she felt basically back to normal. I knew then that 'normal' is a relative term and that I would never really be the same.

Reader, how do you mark time? Do you just let life happen and not worry about quantifying it or are you mildly neurotic, too?


a brief lesson in ettiquette

Dear hungry classmates,

The point at which your meal requires a fork is also the point at which you probably shouldn't eat it during class.




to be, or what to be?

When they asked me what I wanted to be I said I didn’t know.
"Oh, sure you know," the photographer said.
"She wants," said Jay Cee wittily, "to be everything."
-Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

I'm coming up on graduation next summer. The process has been extraordinarily short compared with the undergrad experience (5 years! not to mention the two year break for a mission); I feel like I just got started. When it comes up in conversation that I am in school, most people ask what I want to be. I usually just say "educated," in order to avoid the subject.

Really, I want to be everything.


butterfly in the sky

Today Reading Rainbow made its final broadcast. This fact has made me a bit wistful . . . and a bit riled.

What's next, Sesame Street?

Some research-based policy decisions in the Department of Education concluded that TV isn't an effective tool in teaching children how to read.

Really? Are you shocked?

But Reading Rainbow never focused on phonics and phonemes; its focus was more affective - encouraging kids to read because reading is fun and makes life limitless. The kids who know this already are the kids whose parents are likely to donate to PBS, and its a truth that may now be kept a secret from kids whose parents use the television as a babysitter - because they sure won't be able to watch Reading Rainbow.

". . . but you don't have to take my word for it."

Anyway, on a more personal note, my favorite episode of RR is called "How much is a million?" The featured book taught ways to conceptualize huge numbers. LeVar and his friends visit a crayon factory and show the process by which crayons are made - I wanted one of every single color of those millions of crayons so I could draw billions of pictures. Do you remember a fave episode?


false start

Last night I drove home from school with the window down . . . the whole hour of my commute. The feel of the cool evening air and the tricolor sunset just made me feel good. It made me feel like I was in college again . . . . because I am. I live for this time of year; I love the end of summer and the beginning of school. Something about living by the agrarian calendar just feels right to me.

Last fall semester I found myself a bit disappointed in my Master's program, underwhelmed by the expectations of my professors, and unimpressed by some of my classmates. At the time, I just expected more. I wanted to be intellectually intimidated -- as a form of motivation to be and do my best, and I just didn't feel it. I have looked forward to grad school for a long time; perhaps in my anticipation I let my expectations get a bit too lofty.

This semester, I thought I knew what to expect. I was so ready to get back to school that I purchased my books two months ago and started reading a bit. As I arrived at school on Monday, there were more people than I have ever seen on campus. There was a barbecue on the quad. The marching band was practicing. Cheerleaders were tumbling. But, as I approached my destination I could see on the door of the poly sci building a bright orange paper that read, "Classes begin on August 25th". Awesome. Two hours and two-hours' worth of gas wasted.

Yesterday, the day classes actually did start, I got my first dose of Public Policy Analysis, and it made me want to take back every bad thing I have said about ISU (except about its customer service; it's still terrible). The students I sat by had great ideas and varied perspectives. There are more women in the progam this year and more international students (which is to say, there are more than zero). There were thirty people in my class, none of them afraid to talk . . . and what they said was interesting and applicable. The textbooks and reading selections are interesting and full of theory. Needless to say, this will be a vastly different experience than the last. I may just have drive home with the window down every night this semester.


kudos to clark

Clark was recently recognized at his company for his mad skillz. By editing video for it's upcoming convention, Clark saved the company "tens of thousands of dollars" as announced at a pre-convention meeting. He got a Home Depot gift card out of the deal - 25 whole dollars - a sweet kickback from those tens of thousands in savings (?!).

At least he didn't have to attend convention this year. in Florida. in August. without me. We can console ourselves by thinking of Clark's awesomeness . . . and by building a fence, deck screws compliments of Home Depot.


bread fail and other adventures

I have a small obsession with food. I love to talk and read about it, grow it, bake it, cook it, eat it, and feed it to others. Though cooking has come pretty naturally, I am relatively new to baking. In fact, Clark is the baker in this family because I just can't resist experimenting - an endeavor that, when baking, usually ends in disaster. This is the latest:

(The red fan at the top is blowing away the putrid smoke
pouring from the bread machine.)

We didn't have any milk, so I thought, "Why not try almond milk? Who cares if it's chocolate?" Then we didn't have any eggs, and I was already in it too deep by then. I tried an egg replacement technique (corn starch + water) but got the ratios wrong - - obviously. Also, I used honey instead of brown sugar. Maybe three substitutions was two too many.

The bread machine is usually pretty safe for me. Anyway. It's not all failure. I made some amazing pita bread for falafel on my first try. Also, Mom G has taught us how to make artisan bread and it works out well most of the time . . . unless you try to substitute whole wheat - then it burns on the outside before it finishes cooking on the inside and the loaf ends up weighing about ten pounds.

(Yeah, I take pictures of my food. So?)

This post inspired by Cake Wrecks, which I found on Sara's blog, and Craft Fail. Check them out.


the couple we play on tv

Once when we were discussing the differences in how people sometimes perceive us and the reality of us, Clark said, "It's like the couple we play on TV." It just stuck with me and still makes me laugh. So here goes:

Season 4 of Clark and Lindsay in Love came to a close on July 28, 2009. The Landmark show has provided audiences with memorable moments, laughter, tears, learning, and lots of good food. And how could we forget how it all began?

The seeds of the popular prime-time show were planted late in 2000 when Clark and Linds met on the campus of Snow College and became fast friends. In summer of 2001, they started rehearsals for the dating sequence, which wouldn't be filmed until winter of 2005. Fans still talk about the pilot episode, titled 'Coming Forward' when Clark revealed to Linds over a late-night telephone conversation that he liked her "more than friends." And who could forget her stunned response . . . 'that's big'. And it was.

It still is. In fact, regulars from seasons 3 and 4 have now started a spin off and are leaving the show. "The show just won't be the same without those quirky, fun neighbors and their cute baby,"one fan complained. Frankly, co-stars Clark and Lindsay feel the same way. However, you can catch the paul, jess, and ella show here or you can watch it live, if you live in or visit College Station, Texas. Following are scenes from the season 4 finale.

Fans are waiting anxiously to see what develops in season 5.

(Okay, we really didn't spend our anniversary with Paul and Jess; they moved the weekend of our anniversary. Clark and I went out to dinner - twice, made some yummy dessert, and bought ourselves a nice piece of art - good times.)


growing and growing

Remember these?

Now they look like this:

Plant your own; it's fun.
It's still not too late to plant lettuce varieties, radish, peas, and some types of beans (and probably some other stuff, too).


thank you, idaho

Dear Idaho,

Here in the Gem State, we try to enjoy ourselves. After almost three years, only this summer have I begun to love what you have to offer. If you asked me in February, I would probably bemoan the sub-zero temperatures and your months of gray skies; I might even cry (i mean, can't the sun shine a few times between December and April?). But today, I'm feeling the love. Summer in Idaho Falls is a beautiful thing. These are a few reasons:

"I picked these yesterday"
-cute farmer boy at market
, looked about 15ish

  • Easy-to-find yummy local produce
  • Rarely gets above ninety
  • Easy camping
  • My garden = amazingly prolific
  • Hikes within a 20 minute drive
  • Greenbelt - a stone's throw from home
  • Walking to the farmer's market
  • Daytrips to Teton or Yellowstone = F-U-N
  • The drive to pick up our CSA vegs is incredible
  • This old house and the work we are doing with our own hands this summer (watch for pictures!)

beautiful, shiny zuke fresh from the garden!

So, thank you Idaho for your abundance. We've always known that we won't be here forever, but we're enjoying your spoils while we can.

And thanks for our kitty; we love her.

. . . and a job I love, my paychecks, and grad school tuition.
You're the best. XO


fun times on the fourth

It was another sunny Fourth of July. A few days before the actual holiday, Mom H and long-time family friend JoAnne came for a visit and saw more of Idaho than they bargained for. We drove and drove and saw some amazingly beautiful country. On Friday, we visited the Tetons and then stopped over in Victor to pick up the veggie share (This week: baby greens mix, garlic curls, sage, spinach, bok choy, and . . . real tomatoes!).

Despite the load of food then in the car, the fact remained that the lucious vegetables were unwashed and we weren't prepared to fix the raw materials into a meal. So, we stopped in at the Knotty Pine for a spot of supper. For a tiny-town restaurant, the menu was impressively diverse and featured a mix of traditional (turkey & potatoes w/cranberry) and more interesting dishes. Mom and I each ordered "mushroom blue" (which is mushroom soup with melted blue cheese - de-lish), and shared the seared ahi tuna over bok choy and wasabi mashed potatoes. It was amazingly tasty with just one exception. If I ever get an itch to experiment with wasabi and potatoes, I now know I don't need to scratch that itch.

String Lake in Teton Nat'l Park
(Top - JoAnne, Mom H; Bottom - My uber-cold feet in String Lake)

cute Mom H relaxing by the lake

Then we had more guests. In fact, the visits overlapped. Unprecedented! Joel, Katie, and Carolyn-Kate migrated north for a summer visit. Thanks to the chill nature of our fams, we were able to sleep five people comfortably (i hope).

We had ever so much fun:

eating ice cream,

a bubble-gum 'kiddie' cone


going to market,

playing music,

Joel on tamborine, CK as lead vocalist, jclark on guitar


and eating.

waiting for a table at Brownstone
while listening to live, jazzy blues

Oh, yeah. We watched some fireworks, too.

Families: thank you so much for coming to visit. We love to see you. We also love to be home. It's nice we can do both simultaneously once in a while. Thanks for the good times. Love you!


the social problems of a sometimes vegetarian

Okay, I'm not actually a vegetarian; it's just so much easier to wear the label than to than to explain that healthy, nutritious meat from acceptable sources is just too expensive to buy and eat regularly. You can say "vegetarian" in a breath; the other, not so much (and most people don't really want details, anyway).

But vegetarianism, even my benign version, is not without stigma. Instead of asking questions, some people tend to make assumptions . . . broad, sweeping assumptions. These assumptions are not often articulated, but subtly implied. Despite the occasional alienation, it's been kind of fun to decode people's responses.

Assumption #1 - "You are a militant who wants to steal my steak and bacon and turn them back into animals."

My mental response: Do what you do, dude.

Assumption #2 - "You are an anarchist. What's wrong with McDonald's, KFC, and Taco Bell? Abundant, cheap meat is part of our heritage."

My mental response: Unfortunately, so is obesity.

Assumption #3 - "You don't eat meat, so you must be an animal rights activist. That's weird, but whatever. So you have a soft spot for chickens, just please don't spray paint my leather jacket; it was expensive."

My mental response: Animals taste good; I simply prefer them to have been happy while they were alive. Free range animals are much, much, much healthier while they are alive, not to mention healthier for you, for the earth, and more delicious to eat. Also, if you are going to eat a cow, you may as well use its hide for warmth or something.

image from blog.citypages.com

Maybe these are extreme examples, but they are real (if you can believe it). Sometimes Clark privately considers playing to the stereotype(s) just to mess with people, saying things like, "The swine flu is a scourge sent to punish those who eat the flesh of the Lord's fallen beasts." It kills me every time. Really though, do you have thoughts or know of any good writing on the social aspects and acerbic reactions to vegetarianism?

image from mychildhealth.net

All kinds of people boycott all kinds of things; it's the oldest form of protest (homespun, anyone?). Some quit sugar for health reasons, others refuse to shop at a certain store because of its business practices. So, why is it that quitting meat is so socially and politically charged? We give individual stamps of approval in so many ways: money, time, attention, laughter. It can be a powerful form of boycott to withhold support by withdrawing any of these resources. It is not a new idea. I recently saw a bumper sticker that said, "I refuse to participate in this recession." I'm not sure how that could be accomplished (spending rather than saving money?). More power to him, I guess.

Another conundrum is the dinner invite. I love to eat with friends and to feed people, but there are a few inherent obstacles. I don't want to be accommodated and the alternative is equally unappealing. I can't stomach the idea of sitting in front of a plate of chicken; I want to be a gracious guest, but I just can't eat it (at this point, I'll get physically ill - part of the reason for quitting meat to begin with). Also, people generally expect some sort of meat dish for dinner. Our default is to serve pizza. Clark makes wicked-delicious sauce and, even without meat, our made-from-scratch pizza is usually a crowd-pleaser. (Now I can even make the mozzarella!) Want some? You can even BYOMeat, if you want; we genuinely don't mind. And I won't even confiscate your leather jacket.


say cheese

In my quest for achieving a respectable level of domesticity, I have recently made my first batch of delicious mozzarella cheese (quest currently limited to making delicious things I can eat). I will probably never rival the creative craftiness and stellar sewing ability of the amazing Gardner sisters (sisters-in-law included. See example here), which makes it a good thing it's not a contest.

Making cheese is so much fun; each time it's a revelation that I can make something that often comes in plastic pods that have been sitting under winking fluorescent-lights for days, weeks, or months. For example, this

used to be MILK - just minutes before this picture was taken - and I made it into yummy CHEESE with some assistance from my friend Jessica. I love that you can trace the short line of where this milk/cheese has been - cow's udder to jug (with some pasteurizing step in between), jug to stock pot, stock pot to my mouth. Incidentally, I also made this bread and nourished the Basil leaves. Many of the best meals are so simple and hand/home made; Y. U. M.

Thank you, Jess, Barbara Kingsolver, and Ricky Carrol. And thank you, Reed's dairy cows, for your locally-produced, artificial hormone-free, creamy goodness.


weekend in pictures

It all started with some vegetables.
We picked up our first week of CSA yummies: sorrel, chives, oregano, and baby greens mix.

The farm is in Victor, Idaho, which is near . . .

Teton National Park.

So, we camped

in Wyoming, and we hiked

to a lake

in the pouring rain.
Luckily, we each had a change of clothes in the car so we were able to enjoy the scenic ride home through Yellowstone. It was surely the best impromptu mini-vacation ever.