A couple miles hike up the Umtanum side canyon that runs into the Yak River canyon, and this is what we found as the sun was setting. It’s hunting season and the hills echoed with the crack of guns in the distance.
Hillside Student Community, the lovely small school where Karen and I teach, is a pretty remarkable place. Student teacher ratio of about 4/1; super academics; amazing group of kids from grades 5-12.
For the first time in its history, we’re seriously concentrating on development and PR. Here’s a photo I took on Friday of our kids at the end of the school day. I’m thinking of making it into a banner for school promo events.
Last week, we paid a surprise visit to Gary in his orchard late in the day. He had just finished spraying and we found him cleaning his tanks on a cloudy evening.
This time of year, his days are long. Production manager at Johnson Foods in Sunnyside by day, Gary makes a bee line to his orchard in the afternoon and works into the night. His pink ladies are the best I’ve eaten and true connoisseur that he is, Gary’s never gotten tired of them himself.
He pointed out hail damage from a couple weeks ago. A direct hit and a sideswipe left its marks.
The weather’s been especially wild this year, with a late cold spring shouldering well into summer and a very late freak frost; another week or two of heat wouldn’t hurt to sweeten things up. Gary holds off picking as late as he can, hoping to harvest by the beginning of November. But when the first big freeze threatens, he calls in the pickers and it’s a race to the finish.
Howard is a big fan and unabashedly grabs an armful of these beauties whenever he drops by.
The two of us head to Seattle with a load of goathorn peppers and a couple dozen apples, and Gary’s back on his tractor.
Howard Lev called me last week after having driven past a patch of downtown greenery filled with goats. I ran down and snapped a few shots of these delightful creatures.
Chatted with Tammy of Rent-A-Ruminant, who asserted this was a cutting edge example of green business sense. The goats gently munch away brush, then poop, and leave.
Mostly, they’re just sweet and pettable and the opposite of camera-shy.
These bright curious animals approached me eagerly, virtually nuzzling my lens. More ham than goat, it seemed to me.
I’ve made a dancing thing with no arms but two beautiful legs.
It lives inside of me, but I wear it like a coat, keeping me in darkness.
Formless, faceless, stacked and grown over years like so much manure,
A throbbing clot in the arteries of my head and my heart.
It stage whispers that I’m both what matters and unworthy.
I gave it legs to run.