Back Home and Oregon Recap

We're home! We arrived in Anchorage on Friday evening, and in Homer on Saturday evening, and were heartened to see that our garden is unmolested by the snowshoe hares! (I have so much to catch up on: let this be merely a beginning.)

 This is just one garden plot with a fence around it, in which we put potatoes and onions as well as kale, lettuce, peas--more 'bunny-vulnerable' crops. The kale on the left is looking great, and the potatoes are flourishing. Of course, there are still plenty of horsetails--and this is a patch that we smothered with weedmat for two years! But even the unfenced beds are sporting spinach, chard, lettuce, peas--looking good. I wonder whether all the chives in the beds help keep the bunnies away.

Lessons of the homeward journey: although my energy is fantastic these days and my blood sugar way more stable, I'm not made out of steel. Especially when traveling and packing everything along, trying to rely on fruit can lead to serious undereating. After a couple days of that, I had my first emotional meltdown in months, of which, of course, Phil got the brunt. Just a couple days of that can trigger all kinds of old habits/patterns that favor starvation, that I've been working to rewire for years. That easy. Communication with another person is such a tender and delicate thing, and regardless of provocations, I respect myself so much more when I'm able to retain some poise, perspective and discernment in my words.

Now that we're home, I'm taking those antibiotics that I was agonizing over. I bought some very expensive and super-potent probiotics at the Natural Pantry in Anchorage that are specifically designed for critical situations like after antibiotic use, and I'm setting an intention to research 'repopulating gut flora' intently to ensure that these seven days are groundwork for better things. Sauerkraut? Miso? What about eating the kinds of starch that feed gut flora? "Feed them and they'll come" seems to make some sense.

Yesterday morning slipped by with gardening, planting and (manual) weed-whacking. The latter is something I wouldn't have had energy for last year, and so I never found out that the blade of the whacker is very loosely attached and comes flying off every time you get into a good whacking rhythm (usually landing in the stinging nettles)! All morning, the smaller birds were bickering away--the chickadee so upbeat, the robin pedantically trying to get his wording just right, but they could never get more than a couple sentences out without the flycatcher interjecting "Free beer!" which is all I ever hear him say.

Some Oregon Recaps:
After my long (10 plus miles with hills and a stiff headwind) bike ride that preceded my last post, I spent some time at the library and then biked through to the north end of town and hung out at the Co Op until it was time to meet with Phil's nephew and his girlfriend to go work on Phil's timberland. I figured that I could probably justify a treat!

 This was a mint flavored raw ice cream sandwich by Rawtatouille. There were several flavors but mint's a no-brainer for me. It was so small, and I think it was the perfect size for something nut-date-rich.

 I've never been a sandwich eater. Even if I'm given something 'Ela-friendly' and sandwich-like, like a nori roll or a tortilla, I tend to pick it apart. But I managed a few bites leaving the 'sandwich' intact before my 'pick apart' instinct took over--had to have it running down my fingers! It was delicious, and pretty simple. Nut-date-cacao 'cookie' and cashew ice cream filling with some brown rice in there somewhere and some spinach for color. I thought it was beautifully presented and I felt thoroughly 'treated.' It was a very strong mint flavor--might have been a little too much for someone who doesn't love mint like I do.

We joined Phil at his timberland by about 6pm or so, and worked past 9, until we could barely see.

 I mentioned the headwind? I was relieved that it was too windy to spray. I'll strap on a backpack sprayer and walk around with herbicide for Phil, but it's not something I feel at all at peace with myself doing. Another of these strange split-ethics that happens when you love and respect someone but have very different ideals from them.

I love that when Phil logged, five years ago, he left several tall trees rather than clear-cutting.

 But the 'woodland' approach, coupled with the fact that the entire 22 acres is a steep hill (up one side, down the other) means that there is no inch of easy hiking!

 Can you see the little cedar tree in the photo below? The deer keep pulling the protective coverings off them, eating the new growth, and some of them are starting to look seriously bonsai.

 Without the protective covers, they're harder for us to see too, and both Phil and I accidentally sprayed cedar when we were killing poison oak on a different day. We keep putting the covers back on, keep trying to devise ways to keep them on more securely. Unfortunately, if the cover's on securely and the deer is determined to remove it, she will strip the bark when shaking the cover off and possibly kill the tree! Thankless it seems. Who knew that Western Red Cedar was so surpassingly delicious to deer?

There are berries everywhere--wild strawberries, raspberries, thimbleberries, salal berries and, of course, the blackberries, which bear some of the brunt of the herbicide.

We spent our last night in Oregon with Phil's sister and brother-in-law. Phil's mom came too. Phil's brother-in-law, Larry, is a painter of murals and also a fantastic photographer, and Phil's sister is an artist and calligrapher: their house is full of beauty and art, including a full mural in their dining area that you can see below.

Phil's sister fixed sushi and it was beautiful--and entertaining, as we navigated chopsticks and rotated the lazy susan in the center of the table, knocking water glasses flying...

One final thought for today. Pick the Brain had a compendium of advice from Aristotle today. When I'm tempted to feel like a snobby Classicist over 'predigested' versions of the Classics like this, I only have to remind myself that 'epitomes,' 'digests,' 'compendia,' 'greatest hits' and other forms of 'anthology,' or its Latin equivalent, 'florilegia' (both mean 'collections of flowers') are an absolutely Classical way of engaging with texts. So, their Number 8 today was this:
"We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit."

Of course, I resist the equation of 'being' with 'doing,' and the concept of excellence as an 'act' seems odd. Of course I'd like to see the Greek original. But I get what's being said here. I get that all the times I don't do my best accumulate and lower my 'average performance.' All the times that I generously spend hours leaving comments on every blog I'm interested in and thus don't have time for my own writing make me more of a supportive commenter and less of a writer. All the times I say something in haste and under stress make me less of an even-keeled person. None of these in an ontological way, but they build an image and impression. So, despite my quibbles with the formulation of this advice, I take it to heart and intend to be more intentional in my choices of action and the habits I form. (And I'll still comment on blogs, but somehow do it at warp speed!)

Was this post too long? Too heavy? I'm looking forward to sharing more thoughts, and a product review. It's good to be back!