Go and Sing to the Moon

Random picture (Castle Gardens Petroglyph Site, Wyoming) to match the complete randomness to follow.

I finally broke down and purchased a fracture boot. I reinjured the stress fractures when I was cleaning the bathroom. FYI, it’s not a terribly bright idea to stand on your tiptoes with cracks in your metatarsals. The boot is cumbersome, but I can walk without canes now, and I’ve been able to start making dinner again, which I’m very excited about. Take-out here is basically burgers or pizza or pizza or pizza. I am not someone who enjoys the same flavors over and over again, and we’ve had to have take-out since I first injured my legs back in March. Now we’re back to dinners of Peruvian shrimp with rice and kale, spelt spaghetti with anchovies and olives, emu stew, pad kee mao, and smoked salmon with rainbow chard.

The ranch behind our home was sold to the man who was using the property for his cattle. Sadly, that means Pickwick has moved away with the previous owner. He was spending most of his time in her home these days anyway, so we rarely saw him. I’ll miss him. I won’t so much miss being bitten. Should that ever change there’s always Muggabee, who still hisses at me, as well as the cat we’ve named Foosball, because he’s “the debbil” and picks on Muggabee.

The new owner has brought chickens. We wanted to turn our shed into a coop two years ago, but we need the storage for the tools we purchased to fix up the shed and make it into a coop. He’s already given us one and a half dozen fresh eggs. They’re a beautiful variety of sizes and colors. I’ll take a picture tomorrow if you remind me to charge my camera battery. Nevermind, we’ve eaten them since I began writing this post almost a week ago. They were delicious, by the way. The chickens have already made their way into our pasture and yard. They’ll be a great help with the earwigs and grasshoppers. The dogs have mostly ignored them, though Wicket did herd them back onto their side of the fence one morning. It was interesting to watch, but I’m not sure the chickens would agree.

Wildfire season has been rough this year. Over one million acres of Montana has burned. Not only are the fires here bringing horrendous amounts of smoke to the entire state, we’re getting smoke from fires farther west as well. It’s been hard breathing recently, though the poor folks deep in the mountains have it far worse, and I can’t complain about a bit of bad air when others have lost much more than the ability to open windows. If I could rain dance right now, I would.

If you’d like to donate to the fire relief, you can check out a couple links below. You can also do some searching of your own, but be wary of anything coming from a suspicious source.

đź’“ Seeley Lake / Rice Ridge Fire Fund
đź’“ Lolo Peak Fire Fund
đź’“ Garfield County Fire Foundation Relief Fund

Title From:
Sing To The Mountain
by Elephant Revival

Oh the Desert Dreams of a River

Our camping trip ended early last Thursday. We had rain every day we were there but the last night was storm after storm after storm, which turned the soft dirt roads back to our campsite into deceptive mud pits. Luckily we had been monitoring the weather and had packed up and headed to gravel just before the sky broke.

I don’t have any great pictures to share because I was trying some new settings on my camera that didn’t work out. This picture was taken on the way back to camp the evening we called it quits. It was taken from inside the truck because I’m terrified of lightning. I’m also terrified of moths. There’s no reasoning with my fears.

Many people have tried to explain my chances of being hit by lightning or eaten by sharks but my brain screams back, “You might only have a 1 in 175,000,000 chance to win the lottery but someone does!” I just don’t want to be that someone who is touched by a moth, okay?

We’ll be making a few more weekend trips down again this summer. I’ll be sure to take better pictures then. I can’t wait!

Title From:
From This Valley
by The Civil Wars

And Driving Down the Road I Get a Feeling

On Friday we leave to go camping! The plan is to take a week of vacation every year around this time and camp somewhere. This year we’re going to Wyoming. Next year? Probably the same place. I love Wyoming. I love that at times the air itself smells like sage and I especially love the red dirt. In fact, there is a half-gallon mason jar full of red Wyoming dirt sitting on our bedside table as a bookend. The other bookend is an old pickle jar full of beach rocks from Rhode Island.

We planned for this particular week because historical averages showed minimal rainfall and where we like to camp is difficult to access with too much rain. Now, Ten Sleep and the surrounding areas are experiencing flooding conditions. Hopefully things dry off a little before we leave.

I know some people would be surprised that we’re not camping in Montana. Memorial Day seems to be the start of tourist season and so many people are already flocking here in their giant RVs. Montana is wild and breathtaking, certainly. I can see what draws people to visit; the same things enticed us to make this place our home. But we can explore Montana and all it has to offer any weekend. This week is more of a nostalgic return to the place we called home when we didn’t have one. Plus, there is a little part of me that doesn’t want to be eaten by bears.

Title From:
Take Me Home, Country Roads
by John Denver

Riding Wildfire

It’s been beautifully springy here recently. We’ve had the windows open, airing the place out. Now everything is covered in a thin layer of dirt. The winds were gusting at 60-75 mph today, blowing everything from dust, leaves, and horse poop into the air. We were lucky enough to avoid the power outages the poor folks in Billings are dealing with, for which I am especially grateful. I hate being without power when living on a well. My first thoughts when the lights flicker are 1.) I better use the bathroom now and 2.) I should fill the bathtub so we can flush the toilets later. With the electricity in our Connecticut cabin being so unreliable, we kept buckets of water on the porch for emergencies. So far we haven’t had to do that here but I may start just to be safe, especially if winds like those today are commonplace.

Along with the dust, leaves, and horse poop, the winds brought smoke from a nearby wildfire that’s burning out of control. Fire season here makes me as nervous as hurricane season in Louisiana. Brian grew up in Louisiana and lived there when we met. I was always resistant to settling there because the idea that every year I’d experience the very real possibility that my house could be there and gone after one storm, made me extremely uncomfortable. Now we live where the very same thing could happen. Although unsettling at times, it’s definitely a risk I’m willing to take in exchange for being able to live in such a gorgeous state. Not that Louisiana isn’t pretty, but there is that whole humidity thing.

Note: The picture here was taken in Worland, Wyoming, over the summer. The fire was an impressive controlled burn on a field.

Note: The song for the title of this post is going to be stuck in my head for days, I just know it.

Title From:
Wildfire
by Michael Martin Murphey