535: bay beach wildlife sanctuary

This weekend, we went to Wisconsin to visit our parents. There's been a lot of news from both sides of the family, which I'll share soon enough, some wonderful, some terrible, but everything, since the world changed, or really, okay, our world changed, family has become Family and it's all so warm and safe.

527: Colville

On our last day of 2010, we took a small walk around Colville. This pregnancy and all its morning-sick glories have kept me indoors too much; most weeks, my journeys took me only to campus and back. I'm desperate for some sense of fresh air, of observation of the slow moving waters, creaking winter trees.

Ryan and the pups ventured out on the ice, and I quacked back at the ducks.

They say walking is a natural inducer of labor, so I suspect I'll be doing this a good deal over the next several days, waddling along flat paths in town. She's not due until Thursday, but at my forty-one week appointment, there is the threat of medical induction, so I'll take my chances with tea and walks and other gentle attempts. There's far less kicking and much more slithering about; she's truly run out of room.

In 2011, I'll be a mama. So strange. We'll be parents!

525: the blue canoe

It's actually green, but you wouldn't know it until you pull up her drapes. Ryan gave this to me a bit before we left for Wisconsin; he said he figured he couldn't hide it on the way there or even wrap it in much more than a tarp. He also told me on the phone that he had "left one of my presents lying around." Tricky boy, he is. Even trickier is how he picked it up while I was at book club, from the very home where book club was hosted; we bought the canoe from some very good friends who weren't using it any more.


I cannot wait for summer, for lakes and for introducing the minnow to the peace that is paddling along, enjoying fresh air and quiet.

It's a Wenonah canoe and cared for by the Urtels... I pity the poor thing in our hands, but I truly hope it will get to see many adventures with us, bruised or unscathed.

514

I've had so many wonderful poetry-adventures in the past two weeks; I have scribbled notes in my notebook to compose here, and photos and joy, but here's another form of joy: eeking out just before the first snow is set to filter in, several juicy sweet peppers (along with enough hot peppers to last this winter and next, a few eggplants) appeared in our garden. We've had chicken enchiladas and tofu fajitas, using our store of CSA onions in the mix.

In these parts, it's drizzling, and tomorrow, we're set for a high wind warning, which will make the commute across the farmlands a bit precarious, and tonight, we took the pups to Hay Creek, which fills my heart to the brim. Those two are so beautiful when they fling themselves, free, chasing after sticks (indeed, we may not have learned our lesson, though Ryan is careful to trim any sharp edges) and pawing slender holes in the sand. The mosquitoes are still lingering, the leaves are flittering down, and I imagined the cows lowing were moose instead.

512: mud creek

Last weekend we made the trip to Hay Creek, a generally sandy-banked spot, but since we had those Zumbro-flooding storms two weeks ago, the Mississippi and all small expanses of water have kept banks high and swampy. As one can see in that first image, I lost my sneakers in the quagmire, one step, then the other, sunk to my ankles. Ryan fetched them, replete with worms, and scraped them as best he could, but I kept myself stocking-footed for the rest of our journey. We headed home just as sandy and damp as our pups, who actually romped.

507: sunshine and head colds

It was a beautiful day today, meant to be spent in the northern climes of the Twin Cities with my best friend and her little boy, but the first nasty head cold of the season has taken both me and my husband down: he with shivers and temperature swings; me with a throbbing head and an achy throat. I have an OB appointment tomorrow morning (complete with gestational diabetes test), so I suppose I can request a throat-peek.

We still had two rambunctious dogs, and we had a taste of what parenting will be like down the road--it does not matter how very sick you might feel. The kids must be appeased.

The sun was shining, the air was fresh and sharp. Three days ago it was raining so hard and so fast they had to close parts of a nearby highway. Today, there were mud puddles, and tall trees taken down, but mostly, one of those ideal autumn days for the dogs to romp, and two adults to zombie-shuffle along behind them.