I have a confession: in our two years here in Washington state, I have started to think of Mt. Rainier as mine.
Yes, I know that Mt. Rainier is a national park and, under duress, I will share it with America and the rest of the mountain-loving world. The problem is – or I guess it’s not a problem at all – that most times when we venture into the park, the crowds are light and we can end up on roads and paths and in spaces where we’re the only two people around. Just us and a waterfall rushing toward a creek below.
Add to this the fact that every visit to Mt. Rainier National Park is a religious experience to me. The mountains and valleys and acres of trees inside the park are my synagogue, my chapel, my spot to connect with the divine. There’s no place I’ve been with fresher, cleaner air, which seems to fill my lungs while simultaneously cleansing my spirit.
Continue reading “They’re apparently making me share Mt. Rainier…”
I love mornings in the Pacific Northwest. There’s something about the chilliness in the air, even in July or August, and the crisp, clean smell of evergreens mixed with salt water that just infuses my soul with thankfulness. After two years here, I still find myself borrowing a few moments just to take it all in, observe the scene before me, and send up a prayer of gratitude.
Each new day here reminds me why I love this place so much. I have to do weird things here, things I never anticipated when I lived back east, like check the tide tables so that I know which foot ferry I want to use. When the tide is out, the ferry dock a quarter mile from my home has such a steep gangplank that is like climbing up and down a ladder to get to the float and on the boat. It’s not fun, especially since I’m in a medical walking boot right now due to tearing the fascia tendon in the bottom of my foot, so I’ll choose to use the ferry 1.5 miles away in town as it’s in a marina and doesn’t require feats of strength to get on the boat.
Who could anticipate a Midwestern woman worrying about tides?
Continue reading “Mornings of wonder and gratitude”
In our two weeks (plus one day) of home ownership, we’ve already learned a few things. Mainly, how to do stuff. Last night, I watched my husband, who was convinced just six weeks ago that we would need to hire someone to do every little repair around the house, fix a toilet that wouldn’t stop running. He spread the instructions to the replacement parts out on the sink, got out his toolbox, and got to work. An hour later, the toilet was working correctly and the satisfied, proud grin on his face made me laugh.
Continue reading ““To dos” and gratitude”
When I got the word that the job was mine, I had exactly 5 weeks to prepare to move the family across the country. Continue reading “Finding our fit”
I’m at war.
I’m being pursued… by the Indominus rex, while running in heels, while trying to talk on the phone, while carrying a dozen eggs.
I’m exhausted. I’m trapped. I try evasive maneuvers, but my enemy is stronger, smarter, far more powerful. Continue reading “The war I can’t win”
I’ve been a salmon addict ever since I first started coming to Seattle for training and would eat at restaurants where I would get perfectly seared salmon filets. I relished the flavors – wood/fire smoke, lemon, that crunchy bite from the caramelization – bursting on my tongue. It was worlds away from the canned salmon patties I ate while growing up back in Indiana. Now that I live here in the Pacific Northwest, where fresh fish is in abundance, I’ve become absolutely addicted to Steelhead Trout. (And no canned salmon will ever get within 20 feet of my lips again!)
Continue reading “My favorite food on the planet”
The snow-capped peaks of the Olympic Mountains in the distance, and Puget Sound in the foreground. (Photo under the cut.)
Continue reading “Today’s view from the office”
Merry Christmas! To anyone that reads this, I hope that your Christmas (if you celebrate it) was beautiful and completely free of stress. As for us, we couldn’t have asked for a more low-key holiday. Honestly, as the sun slips away and darkness arrives once again, I find myself maudlin. Continue reading “Merry maudlin Christmas!”