Letter to Chuck

Hello, Darling-

I hope you are staying warm on your excursion.  There is a font blowing in, and snow expected up here tomorrow.  It might be warmer in Canyonlands; or it might not.  I am picturing you happily paddling away during the day and trading bullshit stories by the fire at night.  And hopefully not sleeping too cold with just that bivvy bag.

It was a windy Easter today.  So windy that working in the garden was not fun.  I retreated with bits of gravel and twigs in my hair.  I found a couple asparagus stalks, though!  That was the good news. The bad news was that Sara asked if she could clean up one of the raised beds, and then proceeded to just rip out all my Russian Sage that I put in last year.  She didn't realize until it was too late.  (Sigh). 

She has been doing an excellent job of doodling on the freezer door, though.  She would like you to cover the whole wall next to the stairs in white-board surface, so she can doodle wildly all over it.  I told her to ask you when you get home. 

Let's see... what else happened today?

Cliff and the boys came down for supper.  He brought lamb; I made a roasted beet salad, rolls and a pecan pie.  Pecan pies continue to baffle me.  In this case, my main problem was that I only have a deep-dish pie pan, now.  I need to replace my regular pie pan.  Trying to fit the pie to the over-deep pan meant that the crust did not go up and over the sides, which meant that it shrank.  That, in turn, meant that when the filling began to bubble and expand, the brown sugar syrup seeped down between the crust and the pan.  The result was a burnt-sugar area that looked like obsidian.  No kidding, there was one piece we could see our reflections in!  The rest was pretty good, though.   Luckily, it was just the Hammonds.  Cliff always says that he likes my flops.  He actually dug around, looking for the burned bits.  I doubled the amount of pecans in the pie, because I like more nuts and less gel.

I filled Cliff in on our plans for the Rogue River.  Yes, he will drive the van home; so you and I can depart straight from the take-out to Seattle to meet your family for the cruise.  

Because of the wind, it became imperative to get rid of the dead raspberry brambles that I pruned the other day.  The wind blew my bramble heap apart:  we won't be able to go barefoot out there for half the summer!  I gathered everything (almost) back up and the kids and I wrapped it in a tarp.  We went for a walk this afternoon and dragged it out to the dumpster.  We hiked up the Little Cottonwood Trail, pausing frequently so Sara could take photos.  There is a notice posted on a fence post up there that says that, if the Wasatch Mountain Accord is approved, the proposed canyon rail line will follow the path of the Little Cottonwood Trail!  No way! A train clattering past?  Nothing like killing the quiet AND lowering our property value at the same time....  I had better find a minute to sit down and read the Mountain Accord carefully.  We are still in the public comment period.  God, just when we had won the battle of the wood burning stoves, we have to go another round? 

Your ex appears to be in a major hurry to get her home building project done.  She had a guy in there all day yesterday ('til dark) and until 5 PM today (EASTER, for Pete's sake). 

I am staying busy and trying not to miss you too much. Company for supper last night and tonight; two major projects I want to work on; looking forward to dinner out with Shirley and Rebecca on Wednesday. Still, I find that I count the days until you are home again.  I will have a stockpile of hugs and kisses waiting. 

PS!  You basement is LOADED with tools.  Implements of every kind.  In the garage today, I even encountered what I guess I would call a DRIFT of small hand-tools, like pliers, up against one of the walls.  I went in search of a nail.  A nail.  Couldn't find one.