When I was young I had a book called This is How We Live in the Town . I don't remember a thing about it except the pictures and the title, but it sprang to mind this weekend when I experienced some of the joy that comes with neighborli…
2018 Reflections
Sarri Gilman‚ a program leader at the Whidbey Institute and an expert on boundaries, shared some questions for end-of-year reflection in a recent newsletter. I enjoyed thinking about the topics she raised, and while I didn't do the jou…
Christmases of yore
I'll never forget caroling in Wickersham . . . Fenway in his sleighbells, Arrietty in her antlers and wreath, the Cain Lake Stables gang, complete with goats and ponies and giant dogs. Those were some of my favorite Christmases. Dahlia …
Arrietty Update
The girls and I visited Arrietty in Sequim yesterday, and I was reminded that she's exactly where she needs to be right now for her health, happiness, and safety. Her weight looks good. Her feet look great. Her stall is warm and dry an…
What would you name me?
Since finding a beautiful pasture and barn for Dahlia near my home, I've been looking for a companion for her. I knew I wanted a small cow or steer for three reasons—1) cost of feed, 2) impact on the land, and 3) compatibility with Dah…
Thanks in advance, Universe
Thanks in advance, Universe, for your next miracle. A couple of days ago I learned that my cow, Dahlia, needs a new living situation. She's been very graciously boarded by a family in Coupeville, whose caretakers are good friends of min…
Susan, Susan, Susan, Susan, and Kate
photo credit greenbrier aussies As longtime readers may remember, I have a thing for Susans. I have blogged about my Susans before—women who have been meaningful as mentors, friends, and elders. Dear Susans—I love you. I also have a thing f…
A view from atop the Ark
Mr. Ark is up there on the roof right now—sweeping off pine needles, loosening moss, and hosing out gutters. He's been at it for two days now, while I've lain in bed recuperating from a cold and reading a Dick Francis novel and two…
It's Possible
I bought a journal with this cover a couple of years ago because I have a tattoo of a flying pig on my back, and because it's my favorite shade of teal. The message—"it's possible"–was fine. The pigs were what I was reall…
Matchmaking
About five years ago, I was working as a Humane Society of Skagit Valley employee and a 90 year-old friend of mine was looking for a dog. I've match-made before, connecting the right dogs with the right humans time and time again, but …
The visitors: in which Russell loses his shit
Russell (center) has dangerously low self-confidence. Yesterday, he reminded me of this by losing his shit when my friend D. dropped by around dinner time. Forgetting how heavy Russell's emotional baggage is, I let my daughter open the…
Heirloom citrus
I now have 8 baby citrus trees growing in pots in my home. My working theory is that the climate of Whidbey Island circa 2018 is roughly similar to the climate of Oakland, CA circa 1885, which is when the parent tree sprouted in what is no…
Four degrees of preparation
I won a first aid kit through my community's emergency preparedness Facebook page the other day. It's been a good resource for getting to know my neighbors, and I'm glad to know they're thinking about caring for one another…
Deer whispering
I once read a book that suggested it's possible to speak to animals—really speak, and really be understood word-for-word. The book made me a little angry, to tell you the truth. It was like a tantalizing but false offer of the greatest…
Plumbing perspectives
The Ark (not pictured) is a fixer-upper. That's why I was able to afford it, and I am grateful for the stained carpet, missing fixtures, overgrown yard, rickety porches, and dripping taps that put this home within financial reach. Than…
Five goals of this blog
I'll tell you a secret—I've always wanted to be an advice columnist. If you need advice, send me your questions. The advice column dream notwithstanding, I do have four goals in mind for this blog: 1) Share a little of the joy and hu…
Russell the Muscle
Someone hurt Russell's feelings once and he has never forgotten it. He is a very soft dog—a fast movement makes him cringe and a harsh word curls him up like a pillbug. Nonetheless, he also has a tremendous, oversized capacity for joie…
Hearing voices
Monday, a friend and I were talking about what made Brays of Our Lives work. Brays was my former blog, written from the point of view of my late mule, Fenway. He had a clear voice—earnest, baleful, wise, and wry. Writing for Fenway felt mo…
F . . . or was it Q?
F said he doesn't mind being blogged about as long as I refer to him with a different capital letter each time. He doesn't want anyone getting the idea his first name is Frank (it isn't) or even begins with F (it doesn't). …
Dahlia
Longtime readers may remember Dahlia, my Jersey cow. Some of you may even remember her as our Jersey cow—saved by 22 people, (the "Dahlia Syndicate") who contributed to her purchase so that she could join my family. She's had…
Imaginarium
“To bring anything into your life, imagine that it’s already there.” Richard Bach I think one of the major contributors to my general happiness is my ability to get tremendous satisfaction out of my imagination, or perhaps I should say my i…
Four senses will do
Living with sensory-impaired animals is interesting—there's so much to notice in how capable they are, and how much they achieve with the senses they do have. Paisley, our deaf Aussie (2002-2013), used to go into the master bedroom of o…
A new story
The other night I dreamed that I was writing again, and I knew exactly how to begin. It was a simple thing—maybe one sentence, maybe two. In my dream it started with just that, and then the words flowed out of me and by dinner time it was …
Tales and tails
My mule Fenway died on June 1, 2018—the day before my 39th birthday. It was terrible, and unexpected, yet apparently painless and instant. I loved him so. I can't continue blogging without mentioning him, as he was the mule behind Brays…
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