BaNNeR RooTS

Big Juicies

The blues are now squishy as ever from the multiple frosts we've had the past week. We've now moved onto blackberries...crunchy, juicy, tundra-tasty blackberries. They'll add the perfect contrast to creamy akuutaq this winter. And they're a blast to pick, NOW!

 

 

Why are they a blast to pick? Because they're tough. They hold their own...VERY unlike the blues. Blues get picked and they're a little pissed about it. They threaten to cry and smash and squish and make a purple mess. Blackberries head to the bucket with pride almost. Even making a proud noise when they hit the bottom of the pail. It's quite fun. I pretty much "right on!" the blackberries every time. It's quite satisfying.

Sid just asked me, "Are you talkin' bad about blueberries?" She has a point. Blueberries, while they're a little fragile, are the most versatile berry we've got. The tangiest and boy do they pack a punch when you pop 'em in your mouth.

But blackberries. Just look at 'em!

 

Sorry Sid, but they are more fun to pick.

Pick

 
I love picking with this girl. She reminds me so much of my mother - optimistic, goofy, sweet, crazy, loving. And she's a picker! I'm quite the proud lady. I know Ma is too.

 

 

 

"I almost picked as much as you," she said. And she's right!

Really Super Special Haiku Friday

Today's a sparkling day. Here's why. If you're a lucky ducky person and you're in a place where there's a clear sky, look up. Tonight is the peak night to view the Perseid meteor shower. And it's fantastic. It's one of those happenings that hollers nicely, "IF THE UNIVERSE CAN MAKE SOMETHING LIKE THIS HAPPEN, THERE ARE WONDERFUL POSSIBILITIES!"

Now a story. Five years ago, an extremely new friend and I viewed the Perseid meteor shower together. We had just met that summer and we were lucky enough to be outside the night the Earth was traveling through the comet, Swift-Tuttle's, orbit. Swift-Tuttle. Say it out loud. "Swift Tuttle." Fun, isn't it? Anyway, it blew our minds. And bonded us in a way that only pieces of comet junk traveling through the Earth's atmosphere can. And so today, we celebrate. And in my celebration with you, I share the Really Super Special Haiku I received today from my now forever friend.

It doesn't directly address meteor showers, but it does speak of wonderful possibilites and I have come to fully appreciate that message.

 

Sunrise

We finally got a good break in weather yesterday and celebrated by having a picnic on our favorite sandbar on the Nome River. Sid played in the river current, while Joe and I tended the fire. After rain and more rain, the warmth was quite the delight!

And this morning, I couldn't help but stop and appreciate the sunrise.

If it holds (we've learned never to take weather for granted), it's another picnic. 

Still Celebrating...

 

 
 

Nothing Lasts Forever

 
...not Jack LaLanne and not even my Steger Mukluks.

Yes. Jack died earlier this week. And my Steger Mukluks earlier this month. It's been a rough one for tough ones..

Here are a few words about the mukluks. They were dependable. And old. Not as old as Jack, but they were 13, which is old for a boot. Especially a boot I wore just about everyday in the winter. And they were warm. Real warm. Like 60 below warm. I'm not even kidding. As long as I kept moving, my feet stayed warm in 60 below.

And they've been with me. Ptarmigan hunting. Rabbit hunting. Heading to the outhouse during a snowstorm. Running away from angry moose. Snowshoeing. Mushing. I even played basketball in the 2010 Thanksgiving Belly Bowl in these guys.

 
And they got tired. See?

 
So it goes that I retire my first pair of Stegers--a gift from my mother. Tear. A sigh. And a pout. And I move on.

To another pair of Steger Mukluks:

I picked up the parcel from Shari at the Post Office. And opened it. With excitement. Same style. Different color. 100% awesome. 'Cause that's how I talk.

  

Mmm, the smell....

 
It's 20 below and the sun is just setting behind the base of King Mountain. The kids have been out for 20 minutes and I just put a pot of water on the stove in anticipation for their return to the wood-stove-warmth of home. When their excited voices, red cheeks and chilly fingers make their way inside they'll get hot chocolate with marshmallows, but first something from Ma.

 
Or rather, I will get something from them. And I can't wait. I can't wait to squeeze their little bodies and kiss them on the cheek, like I do most every time they come in from the cold. I love those warm-lips-meet-cold-cheek kisses. I love them most of all for this reason--I always get a good sniff in while I'm doing it. The kind of sniff grandpas give when they kiss you. Noisy. Close to the skin. Full of love. And full of one my favorite smells in the world--the smell of outside.

It always amazes me that the smell of outside can linger for a good few minutes after taking off the layers of clothing and cumbersome boots. I always try to capture it after the kids' arrival indoors. So now I'll hit "publish" and wait. It shouldn't be long. 

Like a Grain of Sand

There's a meteor shower tonight. I can't wait. It's supposed to be clear. I've been thinking about it all day. In anticipation. Like it's Christmas or something.

A few years ago, in August, I saw the most amazing meteor shower, with a (then new, but now like family) friend of mine, Moriah. The stars were falling every 10-15 seconds or so and I had never seen anything like it. What I didn't know that night (early morning, ahem) was that what we were seeing was the Perseid meteor shower. Each falling star was actually a tiny bit of junk in a comet's orbit. The Earth was passing through the orbit and when the pieces of junk hit the Earth's atmosphere, we saw a falling star. And we oohed. An ahhhhhed. And oohed some more. The shower we saw is called the Perseid shower because it looks like the stars are "falling" from the constellation, Perseus.

And before we get too technical, let me say that each falling star is usually the size of a grain of sand. I know! I had to pick my jaw up too. Incredible. Fricken' great. So that's what I've been thinking about all day. The upcoming Geminid shower and the pieces of junk the size of a grain of sand that are going to liven the sky the only way meteor showers can.

 

On a Walk

The Old Donut Club

BaNNeR RooTS features a tour!

Sid has a new office at the creek where she does business transactions and negotiates prices for her products. Our new, little entrepreneur. Her business is called The Old Donut Club. Yes. It's also a club. And a studio. And a place to climb on the willows.

 
Each guest is required to sign in at the office. And today Sid hired a guard (Joe). He stands at the door with a sword and if you don't know the secret hand gesture, you'll get run through by the Nerf sword. She's pretty selective on who's eligible for entering her place of business, so don't even think about it if you haven't received the proper instructions from the proper people.

 
Those fortunate enough to enter Sid's office will first see the Rainbow Tree. The Old Donut Club is a place of color and love. And business. And pictures of hearts with square sunglasses. And really good directions:

 
And here we have it. The Old Donut Club office. Sid made the desk herself with a piece of plywood and blocks. She's a real DIYer. Her chairs are made of driftwood, stolen from the woodpile. Chickens are welcome. Now. A person might ask: so what does she DO in the Old Donut Club Office? Valid question.

Sid sells things. Great things.

 
The tiaras are $1.00 and the bracelets $.75. A real bargain. They also give fencing lessons--instructed by Joe Kinneen, a real master with a Nerf sword. And as I was typing "real master", Joe walked in the door saying, "It's my lunch break."

I wonder how business is going. Of course as their mother, I'm their #1 customer and I'd recommend their products and services to anyone.