All the Ants Died.

Well it has been a month since my last post, yet it feels like several.

The ants are now but a distant, sad memory. Three batches. THREE! And they all died within three days! We thought at first we killed them, but when the second batch died after we greatly restrained ourselves, we began to wonder. Mold? Had the recent deceased left the scent of the dead in the air? Well Carolyn thoroughly cleaned it and ordered another. Another!

"This is it! If the ants don't work, no more!" Excitedly Carolyn and I felt like pros, so we stuck them in the refrigerator for ten minutes to slow them down (as suggested), then began to dump them in.

Failure.  

I grabbed a scrap piece of paper, smaller than a 4x6 note-card, and funneled it. Well, Carolyn held the tube and tapped them in, they began to fall right in. Perfect. Then, she mis-tapped and one fell onto the counter. Well, refrigerated or not, these things are fast and big and can possibly sting. Thinking that all had fallen into the farm that were in the card, I let it go in order to trap the other. Then I freaked out. 

The only way I can justify being a 23-year old woman who screamed and flipped out at ants is to say that movies affect the imagination. "Eight-Legged Freaks," "Honey I Shrunk the Kids," and even "Ant Man," leaves an impression and as I saw those ants climbing up and out of the funnel all I could think was - they are coming for us. In the confusion I can't remember if I knocked the paper down or Carolyn did - but she screamed and the funnel was knocked. Every single ant now was scurrying on the counter in every which way. I took a pop can and tried to trap one. Thankfully, there was a container nearby with water guns. I dumped them out and placed it over the ants. We calmed down, then I realized we would somehow have to get them in. 

Actually that was the easiest part. Carolyn took an envelope and I let one at a time out. She the shook it into the farm. Thirty or so ants were saved that day. But maybe in retrospect I can understand how they died - who could survive that kind of trauma?

The Ants Went Marching All The Way Down To The Ground

The most recent excitement at the library has been our newly acquired pets - Western Harvester Ants. We received them in the mail and Carolyn and I awkwardly filled the farm with sand. It was a frustrating task to funnel the sand into the small slit on the top of the farm. After getting most of it in (scattering much on the counter) I shook it like an etch a sketch to fill the bottom half. Just as it all filled, the bottom fell out and the dirt along with it onto the countertop.

Take two. As we finished, a patron came in and seeing our obvious discomfort at flicking the ants "which may sting" into the dirt trap, assisted us. Another paper funnel was made and the ants were flicked and scooped and placed into their plastic farm.

The fascination of living, crawling things in an atmosphere of lifeless books, greatly attracted us. "Look how quickly those ones are moving!" "Here are some carrot crumbs," "Oh why are there so many dead ones?" The fascination became our ruin. The more we interfered, the more they curled up dead. We were fearful that the dead ones would... potentially frustrate the live ones, so we put double-sided tape to one end of a plastic stick and I personally pulled out at least nine dead ants. Satisfied, we determined to let them be. Until....

"Why are they not tunneling? It's been a day and the pamphlet says that they should be tunneling by now."

"Leave them be, let's see what happens."

"Google it."

"Some sites say sugar water should do the trick." So the sugar water was added. At first, it greatly delighted us to see them giddy over the sugar water. All of them collected on the sugary damp sand, then none of them moved. "Do you think they're dead?"

"Probably not, let's just wait and see."

"No they're all dead! They're not moving! Oh wait, that ones moving, but it's so slow! Are they dead do you think? Do you think we killed them?"

And the ants went marching one by one to drum of death call. One was left. Then we did intentionally kill that one. The dirt was poured out. The ants extracted. And a new batch ordered.

"Don't touch them at all! Let's let them be."

And we shall see.

"It's a surprise, You love surprises..."

TJ had just finished unloading my raised garden bed into my backyard (it is an old water trough and roughly the size of a love seat), when he pulled out a small silver case and an extension cord from his car. He had a strange smirk on his face when he asked me to pull up one of my outdoor chairs.

"A cord, a case, and a chair.... I'm not connecting the dots TJ. What are you doing?"

"Not me, you're doing it." Sly smile getting bigger.

"What is it that I'm doing?" He opened the case to reveal a set of clippers and razors. "Your hair?! I can't cut your hair!" I had been asking if he would let one of our friends cut his hair while she taught me, to which he had been very reluctant. 

"This is what you wanted, so here we go!"

"No, this isn't at all what I said! I have to learn first!" Well, my freaking out did not do much. He assured me that all I was giving him was a buzz cut - even all the way around. I watched a short Youtube video, then ever so slowly began to razor my way through his mop of brown hair. Though it was slower than the barber in the video, and though there are short hairs that are difficult to catch, I finished. He looked very handsome as the mustache also came off, though I worried that I was cutting it too short and making him bald. "That's nature, not you." 

He said I did an excellent job and that he would allow me to do it again. I think I am overly confident now though, because I hope the next one will be an actual haircut, and not just a buzz. 

Look at that curly top!

I couldn't help myself..

Handsome face!

The mustache had not yet come off. 

Flowers

I just love them. I know women who don't, but I absolutely do. I cannot fathom not loving them. There are definitely some that do not smell good, but they are still (for the most part) very pleasing to look at. Or pick from the dozens of ones that DO smell good.

This week I was pressed to take three bouquets of peonies. I brought one to work and the other two fill my home with their sweet fragrance. Previously it was lilacs, and before that hyacinths. I love walking into a florists, but I too often am persuaded by the flowers' cheerful colors and heavy fragrance and saddle myself with one or two plants.

I purchased a few bags of seeds. I say a few as in about ten. I have planted a few in the corner of my yard but have no great hopes for them. Should they bloom though, I will be absolutely delighted! I borrowed pots from the library and set them up with flowers around my little home. They seem to welcome me with their vibrant colors.

TJ left this weekend to go to a wedding that he is in (logistically it did not work for me to attend). Before he left, he gave me a single rose from the rose bushes at his house. It was wrapped in a damp paper-towel and in a ziploc bag. It was such a simple and thoughtful gesture.

It is a deep red rose with perfectly extended petals. 

I just love flowers. 

Jobs with Pottery Sherds Are the Best

It was a day when I was feeling especially thankful for my job. I don't believe I have ever had a job that I actually looked forward to as much as I do this one. There is always something to look forward to in any job, when you look for it, but I have got to have one of the best jobs there is. Every job can be as stressful as you make it, and I see that more clearly than ever when I find myself stressing out about my pretty-chill library job.

Well this day, I was drawing simple hieroglyphics on pottery sherds. It is for the kids to dig up on the first day of "Can You Dig It?" I think they look half-way decent.

Within the next couple of days the Fourth Expedition to Lachish will commence. Many of my Israeli and other friends will be there, and there is a part of my heart that aches for Israel. A total of seven weeks of my life, yet it has impacted me significantly. I learned so much on those two trips and they will forever be some of my favorite memories. I can't help but think how wonderful that God should place me here to do my own small, very different, expedition lasting just a bit longer than the Lachish expedition will.

Writing the hieroglyphics brought to memory one of the latest memories made there. My Coach, square supervisor, had been my Coach each year. When working with someone day in and day out, getting dirty and sweaty, there is a bond that is easily formed. We had the most united square that first year and were greatly attached to our "Coach Ilan." We formed a unique friendship my first trip as my square mates and I looked up to him and worked hard alongside him. That first year, he was called away in the reserves during the Gaza bombings. He came to say goodbye to us and we each felt the weight of his being called away. You can imagine my joy at being reunited to work underneath him the next year and to learn from him again. He is like a great bear. He has a very thick Israeli accent and the first year all he could manage to say to three girls each day was "level it." Every archaeologist's goal. As he became more comfortable, he told us stories. Stories about his wife, serving in the army, or other square supervisors. Since all we ever uncovered was dirt and boulders, it was always a joke among us that we would find the inscription with Rehoboam's name written on it.

Well, on the last day of my last year, along with the aid of my other Israeli friends (also square supervisors and studying archaeologists), I created a fake inscription. I wrote in sharpee marker because the crayon one I did looked too authentic at first glance. The level we were digging in would not have had ancient Hebrew, so I wrote out in ancient Hebrew - "To Coach Ilan, love your angels." I had taken, with permission, a scrap piece of pottery. Oftentimes inscriptions were written on scrap pieces of pottery. That last day, when he wasn't looking, I put the piece of pottery inscription side down. That was the first mistake. Anytime a piece of pottery is lying flat it could indicate a floor level. Which was exactly what we were hoping for. About the same time he discovered mine, he had just uncovered another broad piece lying flat on the ground. Two is better than one. The case and hope for a floor grew stronger. The Director (Yosi Garfinkel) came over and discussed this possibility and nodded and the indications. My face grew hot and I felt sick inside. Should they see that, they could think that it was real, then a forgery and what kind of trouble would I get in? They are now believing it to be a floor level and I have unintentionally deceived them! One of the most important things an archaeologist is to do is keep everything in situ, which is a fancy way of saying "in place." It is important so that proper documentation- photographing, graphing, and diagnosis can be taken. However, since I knew I had placed it there, I kept nudging it out of place with my shoe, hoping that he would give up with my clumsiness (which I am usually very careful) and turn it over, see the joke and laugh, with perhaps a tear in his eye at my thoughtfulness. But it was not to be. He continued to carefully put it back in its place. So distracted was I by my situation that I also accidentally kept knocking the other pottery sherd.

Finally I went to my friend Shifra and told her my dilemma. She came over to Ilan and looked at it with him and finally said, "Well pick it up already." Surprisingly, he did, but his reaction was the worst I could have expected. Seeing the writing, he was too excited to take into account the ancient Hebrew, and that it was sharpee marker. "Erin!" He exclaimed, "You will not believe this! Go get Yosi! Go get Igor!" I hesitated and looked at Shifra. Did he know it was a fake? She said, "No Ilan, read it." Then he realized. But rather than it being a sentimental gift as I meant it to be - he thought it was a joke, a mean one. Of course he laughed at it because he is too good-humored to get mad, but I felt horrible as I tried to explain that it was a gift. It took a while, but then we laughed about it together. Me at my unfortunate mistake, and him at his excitement.

Don't Look TOO Closely

I Couldn't Read that to you, I just copied it, so don't be impressed. But it does look pretty sweet right?

Hence the selfie - I wanted to document that I actually wrote it. 

Coach Ilan! He hates morning! "Aerin, there is noo gud morning."

Here he is being silly with another square supervisor Tal. They are hilarious together!

Well I just transported myself to another land and a previous chapter of my life. I am here in Montana now, making memories and new inscriptions.

The Grass is Green On This Side

My little blue house had been formerly neglected. The previous owners, I have been told by my landlord and neighbors, used the backyard as a dirt bike track.

 When I first arriver, it was February, and I had no great desire to spend any time in my yard, and it seemed perfectly adequate. Yet it all began one very windy Saturday. I went outside to clean up the many branches on the ground and the trash bag that had been torn open and its contents spread all across my lawn. As I did, I remembered the pile of garbage that was hidden in the corner. Conveniently for me, the dumpster is just behind my house. I threw away a rotting table, chairs, the old bathroom sink, and some random medal poles. I soon saw that the trash continued through layers of decaying leaves. I looked around and groaned. Much of the lawn was still covered in dead leaves. I thought that archaeologically, it truly was layer upon layer of human life, but this time, I wasn't amused.

No big deal, just rake them and throw them away. As I was cleaning out the leaves, I noticed that the trees were massively overgrown and growing through the fence, ruining it. Most of the time, I did not have the proper equipment and I just went for it. I borrowed a rake from TJ and slowly moved the leaves into the dumpster. But the piles were never decreasing and the dumpster seemed to fill up way too quickly. Many of the trees branches were dying and were easily uprooted. Some lashed back and clawed at me. It was an exciting fight. I yanked and stomped and sat on branches till they snapped. What a satisfying sound. I used to believe myself a tree-hugger, but not when it comes to defending your home and yard. Sometimes after work or a free weekend day,  I would rake, tear at branches and carry them all to the dumpster, the hardest part of clearing.

When the ground was cleared to satisfaction, I planted grass seed with no expectation of it successfully growing. I hadn't tilled the ground or put in fertilizer. TJ came over and we simply spread the seed and stamped on it. And I have watered it nearly every day.

It was past the time that the hardware store employee had told me that it would grow and there was no sign of life. I was disappointed, but not surprised. It was an improvement to not have layers of decaying leaves and basketballs on my lawn anymore! I have been doing what I can out of doors. I have not had great experience, wishing now that I had learned more from my Mom, but I have made little improvements. Free pots from the library's basement, a flower won at a luncheon, two bags of mulch on sale, small garden lights and soil and flowers on sale, old tires found behind the shed, an old chair found in the decaying pile, and small stones found at the ranch have all helped to bring change a bit of my little blue house's outward appearance.

Early February 

The layers of leaves and clustered branches in the corner.

The other corner and a pile of leaves and branches. 

TJ fixed the porch and was taking down the old screens. 

Trash from the shed, and the pruned branches.

Waiting patiently for food. 

Pot on the left - on loan from the library.

Birthday plants from Robyn!

Repurposed tires

Freshly mowed lawn! 

And what is this??

Then one glorious sunny day, I looked out and saw fuzzy green patches in my far back corner. Exactly where the worst had been. My grass was growing. Oh and those nasty trees? Lilacs - and what beautiful blooms they had!

Next job - paint the porch!

"Would you do anything differently if I was going to be there?"

I love surprises. I don't know exactly what it is about being surprised, but I love it. I think it it the feeling that reality is better than your expectation - and how rare is that?  Sometimes, even if I know something is going to happen, I will check my expectations to the point where I make myself believe it won't happen, in order to be surprised.

I have had a few opportunities to practice that through TJ's art of obvious surprises.

 For my birthday TJ asked if it would be a lame gift to pay for my hair appointment (that I had been uncertain of doing for the cost). Initially I was unsure because, well I love surprises and thought that my birthday might be forgotten if we took that route. Well, no sooner had I said that that I realized I was wrong and that, if he were still willing, I would love it.

"Ok, thanks for being so flexible, we'll see!"

The morning of my appointment (three days before my birthday), before I was ready for work, there was a knock on my door and a TJ standing with an envelope that had the very mysterious writing "Do not open till 5:00 on 5/6/16." I waited till exactly 5:00. There in the envelope was a sweet note and money enough to cover the cost, "Hope it was still semi-surprising. Don't spend it all in one place."

This last time however, was even better.

TJ's mom and sister, Lou Ellen and Robyn, and I were going to attend his cousin's wedding in Idaho and stop in Yellowstone on the way back. Since this is a busy season for TJ, I already knew that he would not be able to come. I was still looking forward to it though part of me was hoping that he could still go.

About a week before, it had been raining and was forecasted to rain that entire weekend. This, I'm learning, is pretty unusual for a Montana spring. My hopes were increasing and I had to keep myself to saying, "I know you will most likely be working, but should there be any way that you can go, I would really like that." Now I truly hardly said anything else. One night when we were working out I felt like I needed a straight answer and asked him what he would be doing that weekend. He still didn't know exactly, "Maybe go golfing. Help out at another rancher's branding."
 I accepted the fact that he was not going, and was satisfied with it.

However, the night before our departure, he and I went to the gym. That night we talked about as much, if not more, than we exercised. I had a package I needed to send for my nephew's birthday and asked him that if he were going to be in town the next day, it would be awesome if he could drop it off for me. He avoided my eyes slightly and with a smirking face said, "I have a premonition that I won't be in town. Just take it with you." I knew that wouldn't work, but hoping the reason he wouldn't be in town would have something to do with a road-trip... I didn't press the issue.

Near the end of our conversation that night he said, "So would you do anything differently if I was going this weekend?" I couldn't help but laugh. "I don't think so. Maybe I'd wear a prettier dress."

"You should wear the prettier dress."

That night I was giddy with excitement, but kept imagining him not there and reminding myself that anything could happen and he could very well have to stay. Yet the next morning, as I drove to the meeting place with his mom,  my heart continued to beat faster and my foot pressed down on the gas. There through the trees, loading his things into the back of his mom's car - TJ gave me the goofiest smile.

"Were you surprised?"

The Way of All New Days

Though making new friends, enjoying new experiences, and beginning a new chapter is all very fine and dandy and exciting - sometimes you just want to be surrounded by people that know you. 

Every time I am in a new place I find it fascinating how easy it is to judge others and put them in a box. It is how we naturally are. Well tonight as I was driving home from work, I simply wanted to be understood. I thought of all the people that I have had in my life that have watched me grow, babysat me, taught me piano lessons, taught me Biblical truths, had me over their homes, listened when I asked questions, and teased me into good humor. The people that know me, those that have grown with me or have helped me grow. My church family. The people in my small community that truly care for me and have guided me in many ways. These people know me. Now I find myself making new acquaintances and hoping that they will fill the roles of those that know me. But they can't, and by no fault of theirs. 

The difficulty of being surrounded by acquaintances is that you find yourself often put in a box they have defined. Let them have the basics of who you are and they already know exactly what category they will place you in, and so often it looks like the following: 

Erin Kleist

23 year-old blonde

Nice smile

Too cheerful

Attends church

Never read Harry Potter

Doesn't drink, smoke, party, etc. 

Conclusion: Simple good girl

Use: Pleasantries, ask her to pray for you if you are sad

 

Then every action following that they interpret a certain way. There is no room for explanation, if you are "liked" - perfect, nothing else need be said. Keep It Simple Stupid. If people like you, don't rock the boat. And if they don't like you? Too bad. You are labelled and shall forever remain in that category unless heaven and earth move. 

I was in that twilight state of mind as I headed home. The sunset touched the clouds and made them radiate with a deep pink. Yet the beauty around me only seemed to dull the ache within. I was thinking of all this and feeling increasingly discouraged. How did Anne of Green Gables seem to find at least three kindred spirits everywhere she went? I grow tired of trying to prove myself. Seeking to excel. Hoping to please. Wanting to belong. My thoughts began to spiral downwards and I knew it was going to be another one of those nights. When I fall into bed feeling like a shell of myself and wondering what I can do to make myself feel whole. 

WAIT!!! Is that true? Ok yeah maybe everything I've written is true. Or maybe it's all my interpretation, but does discouragement have to follow? 

I began to say aloud, "Lord, I am encouraged by Your faithfulness. Lord I am encouraged that You understand me. Lord I am encouraged by Your love." Truth began to flood my mind and I remembered verses, encouraging passages and this song - 

"Lord I know a seed must die, before it bears much fruit. 

So I surrender all that I hold dear, and give it all to You. 

I will hope in Your word, I will hope in Your word. 

I will stand on the promises You've given to me. 

In the light of your word, may I never forget,

That what you said You will do, all your promises will come true. 

I will hope in Your word." 

Now I may have some of the lyrics wrong because I'm terrible at lyrics. But I remembered again my priorities. My priorities right now: 

Glorify the Lord

Seek Him for my future

That's it! Not to fit in, not to be understood, not to be the best - but to glorify the Lord and to commit my way to Him. As I grow I pray that I will understand more and more what it is to be a peculiar people. I will more often than not, be misunderstood. I will more often than not, be labelled and ostracized. And as I grow in truth and His love, it will only become more acute. Yet His promises are true. Forever, and He knows me. 

"Because he has set his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him: I will set him on high, because he has known my name." Psalm 94:1

But I know Whom I have believed,

And am persuaded that He is able

To keep that which I’ve committed

Unto Him against that day.

"Do you have any books with buffalos that attack people?"

The first grade class from the local school came by today for their weekly visit to the library. This is my favorite class. There are others that come that are fun too, but this one has some little characters that greatly amuse me. About eighteen children with the majority being boys. The boys are loud and adult like, dressing like little cowboys and always looking for the animal attack books, cattle books, or whatever has the best pictures.

One little curly head boy asked for shark books. I took him to the junior non-fiction and showed him the selection on sharks. I picked out a fairly simple book that had a picture per page of sharks swimming or the deep sea water. "How about this one?" I asked. "Umm no, that one just tells you about sharks." He checked out Shark Attack, or something to that extent, and the cover was a large shark's mouth displaying his ferocious teeth.

Bonnie, Carolyn and I will typically rotate with reading the book. Today was Bonnie's turn and I almost enjoy watching them as much as I enjoy reading to them. I counted five boys all at the same time picking their noses and eating it. The girls sat in rapt attention as the clouds filled with meatballs and the school was covered by a pancake and the town flooded with syrup. "That would be so yummy!" Cried one boy. "Yeah but can you imagine how sticky it would be?" "No school!!"

When the story is finished each week they jump up to grab the book they will read for the next week. Most of the girls will pick one quickly and sit down to read. Quite a few of the boys will grab the books on display and begin looking through the pictures. One girl stands on the stool and pushes all of my books back on the shelf. "Ha," I said today, "you are my culprit." She has a very long red braid almost every week and she tries to get in the boys group that wants some fascinating animal or great disaster book. "Can you help me find something?" A typical question. "Ok, what're you looking for?" She shrugged her shoulders. "You mean you want me to find something for you?" She nodded eagerly. All the ones I would've liked didn't suit her. She choose a seemingly boring one on insects I think.

                 

As they tromped through today, my name was shouted and the little red-headed girl handed me a dandelion. "For you!" Oh I was so pleased! I love little gestures like that and after my recent experience in my yard, dandelions have a new place in my heart. Then I heard one of the boys say, "Eww, why would you get her a weed?!" Oh hush, today it is a free yellow flower.

"Do you guys have any books here?"

Today was a pretty slow Monday morning, but I had just finished reading to the second grade class and was opening the inter-library loan bags when the door opened and someone came right in and asked the question, "Do you guys have any books here?" Bonnie went to help him, and I looked up to see a handsome man in a junky green sweatshirt with messy brown hair standing at the counter with a smirk on his face.

"Hey!! What're you doing here!" I was so excited I couldn't get my words out correctly, "Bonnie this is my TJ! I mean, this is my boyfriend TJ!"

It was a wonderful surprise. He was stopping in Conrad to get some maps for the pivot project he was going to be working on that day. He had to be out there in fifteen minutes but made a quick stop at the library to see if we had any books. Now that I think of it, he left without even looking.

This afternoon I was outside cleaning out the layers of dead leaves and overgrown trees. I have visions of what I would like to do in the backyard and I've already purchased many flower seeds. It is going to be a lot of work though and I'm not sure that I have that great of desire and dedication. Yet when I'm out there, I want to transform it. Well, my yard seemed to catch on to my dreams and has already surprised me by popping out dainty little yellow flowers all over the ground. Even in patches were there is no grass, the resilient flower found a way to produce a bundle together. They are always together, not just one flower by itself, but in a bunch. I can almost hear them talking to each other. I think they have high-pitched voices and cheerful things to say.

 If it was any other yard, I'm sure I would wonder at the flowers and why someone hadn't weeded them out from the grass. But I am understanding it to be a gesture of kindness and their funny bright faces don't bother me. Maybe it's an omen of great things to come in my little fenced-in yard.

Free Yellow Flowers

"You keep hanging out with us and we'll make an athlete out of you!"

It may take long in the making though....

Friday we received all the moisture a farmer's heart could desire for one day. The day before we finally had a good rain, but Friday was the first blizzard of the year. In Michigan one might say, "This blasted weather! Can't wait to go to Florida!" In Montana they say, "Can you believe this snow? Oh but we needed the moisture and I'll take any form I can get..." Anyway, I also like this because it gives the farmers some time off... so Friday TJ, his sister Robyn, her husband Chris, and I played basketball. At first I was dreading it because the night before TJ and I had played with a 4th and 6th grader and they both out-scored me. But after we started playing, it was a blast! Then I rolled my ankle. Crazy how fast that can happen. I walked it off for a little then we kept playing. It looks like a small softball, and isn't very stiff. I didn't know that walking it off helped, but if I had sat it would have stiffened up so quickly and I would've babied it because....well, because I can be a baby. 

Saturday was a beautiful day, fifty degrees and the snow was rapidly melting. I did a little bit of this and that. Figured out my student loans. Got depressed. Got UNdepressed because I remembered that God is my provider and nothing is overwhelming and I have a goal now to accomplish! Talked to my mom AND my sister, wonderful Saturday at that point already. TJ stopped by to deliver the Children's Church material and he headed inside to try to fix my bedroom door (that's an adventure in itself! He had to replace it because it was falling off its hinges, but it wouldn't close because it was just a tad too high. So I sanded and sanded and sanded using a power sander to make it fit. Well as soon as it was done, I shut the door and....it wouldn't close. Tried again and it just swung open. The latch wasn't the right size for the door. Ah home projects. I'm a big kid now.) While he was inside, I was outside, because that is what we do when we are alone. I cleaned out some trash from his car then started picking up the sticks in my front yard. After he left I went to grab the huge pile and take it to the back when I was startled by a black creature! A small cat with bright green eyes was staring up at me. "Oh hi Mr. Black Cat, shew." I don't like cats because of allergies and partly because I just don't like animals that much. But he wouldn't leave me alone! I took the sticks to the back and found a pile of feathers... I think Mr. Black Cat had been hungry. He kept rubbing against my pant leg. I could resist no longer and pet him. He was sweet and I could feel the purring motor through his rib cage. He was skinny, but he also had a collar and I was not going to take this thing in. 

The snoopy Mr. Black Cat

Well, Mr. Black Cat clearly needed friends and after I tidied up in the yard and went back inside, he was crawling on my railing, jumping on my window sill and scratching at my back door meowing so loudly I thought that the neighbors might think I was possessed! But I would not become that cat lady and simply ignored him. Eventually he went away, presumably back home. And that's the end, totally anti-climatic but right now I'm just cataloging the day and therefore am only half trying to make it all sound exciting. 

Marias Valley Golf Course

Later that day TJ called to see if I wanted to go golfing with Chris and Robyn. Golfing. That sport that has that tiny ball that supposed to go sailing through the air after receiving the blow from a large medal stick transferring power from your body straight into that tiny ball. And somehow its supposed to end up in a tiny hole. Eh, I'll watch for now, besides, my ankle was swollen, that's a legitimate excuse. Ankle or no ankle, I decided it would be more fun to tag along instead of have them all wait for me as I tried for the fifteenth time to get the ball out of the woods. But I will try it sometime. I've gone skiing and played basketball, helped herd cows and (surely there was something else slightly athletic....) well that is all I can think of. I don't mean to make myself sound prissy, I was just never the athletic type and it always took me forever to learn. Once I get passed the low-self esteem part, I really enjoy playing whatever, as long as its active. And it was yesterday that Chris made the comment after I tried to shoot at one hole. Oh if he had said that to my high school self I would've either glowed at the idea or shrunk back into a book. 

But who knows what this Montana Erin will someday do! 

"Yep, foliage is great." - Emily Steenbergh

Pretty sure she was getting a little tired of hearing, "Look how green it is Kathleen!" "Oh Emily, what's your growing zone? I can't believe how many flowers and trees grow here!" And occasionally Emily would respond to our constant comments, by, "Yeah, foliage - gotta have it!" Well foliage is a good word, so I'll give you that.

Our time is Tacoma was lovely, once I figured out that it's spelled with a c and not a k. The green though was truly beautiful. Kathleen and I drove from sunny, but brown Shelby, Montana and into bloomingly beautiful Tacoma, Washington. Lilac bushes, tulips, rhododendrons, dandelions (still flowers), cherry trees (or crabapple - we were undecided), hyacinths and flowers I couldn't name were in full bloom all around us. The homes were Victorian style with pristine landscaping and the water was so close you could touch it. One night we looked over the dock in Tacoma and stared at the depths of deep blue, water that flowed in from the Pacific Ocean. Since Kathleen has married a farmer, her appreciation for growth, rain, and growing zones has grown probably almost 100%. And I like to just jump on the bandwagon and pretend I know what all that means. Seriously though, there's something about living in a small town supported by farmers and hearing "We need the moisture," if a few snow flakes fall. Not to mock it though, I never realized how important rainfall and "moisture" really is. And I've only been here two months. Kathleen and I are also two among our friends that are in a pumpkin growing contest and therefore getting into gardening (Kathleen has been - this is new to me though) therefore we each have done some research to understand growing seasons, zones, nourishment and things of that nature (see that's a cop-out phrase that reflects my depth of knowledge on the subject). Anyway, all that being said, Tacoma was lovely and Kathleen and I appreciated it as much as a soul could.

Friday we toured a bit of Tacoma and craved and received Mexican. Saturday we hiked for two hours in the Cascade mountains and overlooked the little homes and viewed the mountains from a small opening in the trees as high as the trail would take us. We then hiked back down and played cards at Emily's friend's apartment - Euchre, a Michigan game. :) It was nice to see another face from Michigan, the land of our roots, and our conversation could lead to things we knew and people we loved. That night again we craved Mexican and nachos was a just reward (only $5 for a dome-like plate of fried tortillas soaked in beans and sour cream). Sunday we walked to her church then sampled some Legendary donuts on our way to cloudy Seattle. Pike's Market was a whirl of booths and balsamic oil samples, and flowers and more flowers. We saw the first Starbucks and it looked like the trillionth Starbucks I saw on the corner a mile down. We tasted delicious fish and chips while we watched the chef and his entourage serve up fried fish, grilled salmon, shrimp cocktail, and clam chowder, all while yelling and laughing and trying to look cool. But they were kinda cool, just because their food was so good. I was not super impressed by the gum wall, though it didn't stop me from contributing. And the Fremont troll was pretty cool. We climbed it, got a picture and said, "Cool." Then we walked, and that was my favorite thing we did together. Walking Seattle, the Board Walk, Pike's Market, downtown Tacoma, the bridge, Emily's neighborhood, the dock - walking and simply enjoying being with each other. Oh but I really liked the Ferris Wheel too, those things are sweet. Any direction you look is fascinating. Whether it's back at the city, scanning the sky scrapers and seeing the different styles of buildings. Whether it's viewing the wharfs and the major cranes and freighters carrying products all over the world. Whether it's at your friends laughing and smiling. Or whether its watching the machine itself flowing in a perfect rotation. Then of course there's the water to view and  the light of the sun moving in delicate ripples on the waves. We ended our trip with more walking, some talking, and a movie and junk food. Lovely, lovely, lovely. Kathleen and I left and settled ourselves for the long drive home.

And I was looking forward to the quiet of the small town. To seeing TJ and talking to him. To making myself a good, healthy meal. I was looking forward to brown and sunshiny Shelby, Montana.

One of my favorites. 

Mount Reindeer.

TJ's livelihood - grain elevator!

Kylie, Emily, Me, Kathleen (bad lighting)

Dome shaped nachos!!

Legendary Donuts

Pike's Market!

The Flowers!

In front of the first Starbucks, we had to make it a little more exciting than it was. 

Nasty wasty gum wall. 

Emily enjoying a fry from the sea food restaurant. 

Kathleen REALLY enjoying the clam chowder from afore mentioned restaurant! Not even a restaurant really, a fryer and a booth to watch them and the market. 

Seattle Skyscrapers from the Ferris Wheel.

Fremont Troll. Cool beans.

Blooming flowers on our walk in Tacoma.

Sunset in Tacoma, last night.