May in Missoula

For the family.  Okay: I'm backtracking all the way to May here.  (When it comes to vacation posts, this is how I roll.)  A few days before Mother's Day we drove up to Missoula where my husband's brother and his family now live, plus my mother and father-in-law now live there too, plus, my sister-in-law's parents were there visiting (they're like another set of grandparents to my kids), so it was all one big awesome shebang.

Seeing family is always filled with so much goodness, like slipping into a warm, easy pool where we can all touch the bottom (versus that cold, deep ocean where I struggle to keep my head above water).  I get all warm and fuzzy surrounded by people who love my kids as much as I do, when it is not just me and my husband alone wrapping them in our blankets of unconditional love.  If my kid slips, she won't drown.  If she takes off in a wayward direction, I'm not the only one calling her back.    

I don't often get good photos from these family trips, though I do at least get snapshots with crappy lighting for the family album.  There is a degree of presentness that keeps me away from the camera, although I usually regret it later.  That presentness is a good thing.  We still have the snapshots, even if they don't make it to the sphere.

But here, some photos I did get from our time in Zoo-town.

:: Caras Park, just our nucleus of four.

 

:: In line for the Carousel with cousins Owen and Sam.  My kids are obsessed with this carousel even though Hazel's only been to Missoula twice and Juniper was just a baby when we left Montana.  Their grandma gave them a booklet of all the horses and they quickly memorized each one, naming their favorites.  (Click here to see Juniper riding as a babe, and here for last Thanksgiving.)   

:: Spring unfolding.  

:: As my mom puts it, Juniper has no social filter.  So she doesn't think twice about adopting a dog from a perfect stranger.  (She has been obsessed with pets for two solid years...we need to get a dog.)    

:: At Nana's new apartment just down the road from Aunt D and Uncle M.

:: Downtown (no where near Nana's apartment) walking to the Farmer's Market where I bought the tomato plants that are now producing nicely in my garden.  (You go Sweet Million!)  

:: Lunch downtown with the kids and Aunt D.  

:: Winding through a narrow valley to Aunt D and Uncle M's place.  You'd never know this is just 20 minutes from downtown Missoula, the second largest city in Montana.

:: At their homestead.  Barbed wire and blossoms, kids playing in the creek, the cows.    

And my nephew, Sheriff Owen, going after the bad guys.  

:: Huge family playdate at the pool.  

:: Mother's Day.  It went like this: my husband and his brother awoke early and went on a wild turkey hunt, literally.  

The rest of us awoke to snow.  The husbands came back in time (shocking!) to get ready for our Mother's Day Plan.  The plan was to surprise my husband's mother at church (even more shocking!), presenting her with a corsage--a tradition she'd had with her own mother and aunt--and join her for the service.  

My sis and I had gone out the night before, so Mother's Day was really about this lady^.  

I think she liked it.  As for my kids, it was their first time in church.  Juniper adored Sunday school (they watched a video, so of course) and Hazel made it about half way through before she and I ended up sitting in the truck.  

:: As for me, I got the best gift: a night out, a rose, and a card full of love:  

"I like the way you talk."  --Juniper

"I love your fingers."  --Hazel

"I love how the birds sing songs to you."  --Juniper

"I love your little boobs."  --Hazel

"I love the way that love fills your heart."  --Juniper

"I love your soft things."  --Hazel  

:: And it's always glorious to come home.  

snaps, the finale

(Or is it?)  

I'll admit, even though the last official day of summer was just last week, I feel a bit like I'm creating a July post in October.  Already, it feels like summer ended months ago.  We had a late frost, but early snow on the mountains.  Our dusted peaks are ghostly and ethereal, like they now belong closer to the heavens than to earth.  Yesterday, with many thanks and gratitude to my visiting sister-in-law, I went deer hunting for the first time in 5 years.  And, I got to go with my better half.  It's been many years (ten? twelve?) since I've walked through snow and green-leaved aspen at the same time.  Songbirds hummed and aspen quaked gently in a day that otherwise seemed to be holding its breath.  Quiet, ethereal, ghostly.  No deer that day, but my heart was filled with gratitude.       

Okay, big breath, here we go, September snaps:

:: Last summer camping trip.  Close to home.  By a river.  Gorgeous mountains.  Hot springs.

We caught a couple of brook trout.  J bug played with them like stuffed animals until she wore all the slime off (it's on her shirt).  They were dead, of course, but she pretended to feed them, "I'll take care of you honey...."  We feared they would be mushy by the time we ate them, but they were as tasty as ever.    

My wedding sandals.  Ten years and going strong.  

The kids ran back and forth between our camp and the river, all giddy and wild and free.  

The view from camp:  I've climbed three of those lovely peaks, back in the day.  Looking forward to climbing them with my daughters.

Turn 180 degrees:  

Mixing "hot cocoa."  

Loitering at the hot springs.

Sigh.  I'm still hoping for an autumn camping trip.  Fingers crossed.  

Things I've been loving in September:  

:: Some lazy afternoons at the park.  And Hazel's ear-freckle; I've been wanting to show you that...can you see it?  It's been there a long time.  Not since birth, but a long time.  It's a great place to kiss.  

Slide-hair.

:: My great-grandma Mabel's vase.

:: The outside coming in.

:: First roasted root medley.

:: Hazel insisting I wear her apron over mine.

:: Like brook trout, garden produce gets well-handled before it is consumed.

:: It doesn't rain for months, and then it does.

:: Indoor scribbling makes a comeback.  

:: Daring to photograph a sleeping toddler-babe.

:: Juniper was never a countertop kid.  With Hazel, it is often the only way I get morning coffee made.  The little turkey.

:: Juniper's pets.  For most of the day she is either a doctor, veterinarian or dog-walker.

Here, she is zoo keeper tying a rope to an elephant to load in the truck.  Obviously.

:: I have been preparing some garden beds for spring.  Hazel begs, pleads, demands, insists: "Dig worms!  Fine a big one!"  By far, it is her favorite activity.  We dig worms and potatoes.  When I find one I yell, "Hazel, I found another worm!"  She practically hyperventilates, oh, oh, oh, oh, and then she gently picks it up with a sweet, cooing, "Ahhhhhh.  Tuck.  In."  Then she places it back on the ground and covers it with soil.  Juniper busies herself tucking-in worms too, but also rinsing and washing and polishing her little pink jewels (some tiny, pea-sized potatoes--last year's volunteers).  

   

:: Playgroup at the park.  Love our playgroup.

:: Admiring my future winter / late fall garden.  Rutabagas the size of Hazel's head, parsnips, kale, turnips, cabbage and strappy leeks all nodding to the thick frost saying, bring it on.

Yes indeed, bring it on.