If I ever need a reminder of why I love my husband, make me read this post...

I never saw myself as the 'marrying type'. Growing up I didn't fantasize about my wedding, or envision my life as a married woman. I have always been fiercely independent, not wanting to rely on anyone but myself. After Isabella was born, I dated a little, but as she morphed into a toddler, I found myself being really comfortable with the idea of it just being me and her, together always. I didn't need a man, didn't want one. Just thought I'd have a 'friend' around, so as to not always have to rely on a BOB. And then I met Rob. And found myself wanting to share my life with him.

Recently he got in a Facebook shit fest with a woman who insisted as the wife, she is automatically, always RIGHT. That got Rob going, and at one point in the exchange, he wrote this about our marriage:

I thought the JOP at our wedding said it very well; it's not about who is up and who is down, nothing to do with being even. That's impossible. So the best way to surpass the notion that one spousal partner is in a stronger position is to think that way. Financial earning power has nothing to do with this balance either, because if a marriage is going to work both partners contribute something meaningful that goes beyond money. I make more money than Mira at the moment, but she raises our children most of the time and cleans my underwear. And she works weekends to get our ski passes, to which I also contribute by raising the children while she works. So what she does, even though it doesn't bring actual money in, has tremendous value. I think the bottom line is that both partners work together to become greater than the sum of their parts in a successful marriage. And eventually I suspect that once the kids are in school Mira will probably earn more than me because she's ambitious and smart and has boobs and in my profession even the really good engineers top out at around 100k-125k. I have no problem with that because like I said, it's not about keeping it even.

I so needed to hear that. There are times when I feel like my time, my work, is less valued because there is little to no monetary value attached to it. To know that my partner values our life machinery, and what we both put in to make it work was exactly the balm I needed. And the bewbs comment was Rob's snark :) But really, his comment showed me how my husband truly lives our vows, day to day. It was a gentle, loving reminder for me to have that same faith. In the months after our wedding, I often felt like being married was like walking through the world in a hug, silently supported in love. I had forgotten that feeling, and his words brought it back for me.

From our vows:

Will you love and respect her, be honest with her always, and work by her side to achieve the things you both value and dream of, so you can genuinely share your lives together?

...my partner in life and my one true love. I will cherish our union and love you more each day than I did the day before. I will trust you and respect you, laugh with you and cry with you, loving you faithfully through good times and bad, regardless of the obstacles we may face together. I give you my hand, my heart, and my love, from this day forward for as long as we both shall live.

I will love you through good times and bad times, through joy and through sorrow. I will be understanding, and trust in you completely. Together we will face all of life's experiences and share one another's dreams and goals. I promise I will be your equal partner in a loving, honest relationship.

Squee...

Growing

One of the things I love most about being a mother is watching my kids grow into autonomous beings. I love getting glimpses into the workings of their minds. Bridger is everyday becoming more verbal, and wow what a climber he is. Truly my mountain man. Isabella yesterday pulled out The Robot. NO IDEA where she got it, but wowie! She's good. Here's a video:

But the wild life are not the only evolving beings around here. I am drawing to the end of yoga teacher training. It's funny, because in my previous, before children life, I taught riding, and trained horses. So the teaching part is home for me, it's the yoga part that is new. I subbed two classes this week, and after tonight's class, I felt for the first time like I was integrating the me that was with the me that is right now. I recognized myself, I'm still me. What a relief.

Thanksgiving has come and gone, and I am just so thankful, everyday, for the bright souls that I journey with. They light my way.

Taxation

Health-care reform is hot hot hot right now. Lots swirling about whether or not people's taxes will be used to fund abortion. This makes me spit. Abortion is a LEGAL MEDICAL PROCEDURE. There would be much gnashing of teeth if an amendment were proposed banning the use of public dollars for vasectomy. Or angioplasty. I could perhaps see putting restrictions on purely elective abortion coverage - in the same way non-cancerous mole removal are generally not covered by public (and some private) insurance. But to not cover a medically-necessary procedure, be it abortion or chemotherapy, is unconscionable.

Why is it the same people who scream and stamp their feet about a (gasp) government take-over of health care are so eager to see the government involved in women's health care? Why are these things not left to women and their doctors? Not to mention why those who decry government involvement in anything want the government to tell a whole population that they can't get married (oh wait different post).

Look at it this way: millions of Americans find abortion morally reprehensible, and they believe their tax dollars should not go to pay for something they find morally reprehensible. I find pre-emptive war morally reprehensible, as do millions of others. Why should my tax money be used to pay for that? I'd love to know that my taxes didn't go to the war. But this is not how the system works, folks.

Abortion is legal. It needs to be kept legal. And women who are on public health care should not be made pawns in these political games. Legal, medical procedures that a doctor deems necessary should be covered by insurance. Period.

On Foliage and Fear

It's been a cold October here in New England. Last week we had snow (in Boston!), early indeed. We made our annual sojourn to Killington for Columbus Day weekend, for the big ski sale that the Ski Club puts on, and for Isabella to join the Hopefuls Hike, up to Killington Peak. The last time I did that group hike I was 10. Deja vu - my coach that first year lead our group up this year.

Isabella has hiked peak-down several times, the last being Columbus Day '08 - Bridger was 4 weeks old. It was a beautiful mild day. Here's a pic:

This year was cold - forecast was 45 and sunny - not so much. It snowed (squeeeee!) as we hiked past the Glades. Isabella looked up at the sky and declared 'I'm so proud of you sky, for making it snow!' Pure now. In my head I was bursting, so proud that she hiked up to the peak, in really good time and with such heart.

Here we are, by East Glade on Great Northern. Bridger was having a mid-hike snack...

I love fall foliage. It's part of why I love living in New England so much. Something within me rotates with the turn of the seasons. It's like some kind of metronome in my soul. However, as the leaves begin to turn, there is always the mummur that begins, 'here comes winter', 'I hate the snow', 'I'm dreading the cold'. Honestly people, if you hate winter that much, Florida is a quick plane ride away... This fear of winter makes people unaware of the glory around them, the beauty of a changing palate...

But really, there is no such thing as fear. Fear is the absence, the lack of being in the moment. Think about it, when presented with a perilous situation, we jump into action, we react. The feeling of fear appears when we either look ahead to what might happen, or peer into the past at what might happen again. We miss the moment at hand. So rather than look at the changing leaves with dread (or joy) at the winter ahead, take a moment, feel the breath on your nostrils, and be aware of this moment, and the beauty around you.

Blessings and a Haircut

Yesterday we had a party to both celebrate Bridger's birthday, as well as a Welcoming Ceremony, formally introducing his god-parents to our collective village. Our friend Chris helped us to create the ceremony, which was really lovely. Her husband did a Native American invocation; there was such great energy present. The late summer sun filtered through our great old oak trees. We closed the circle with a prayer, said by, and for everyone, as we are all children of a larger community:

These children have been given to us and entrusted in our care.

May we know what to give and what to withhold;

When to praise and when to admonish.

Make us gentle, yet firm;

Considerate and watchful.

So be it.

Bridger also got his first hair-cut yesterday, courtesy of Rob's grandmother. He was less than amused. I, while I recognize that he really did need to see, was perhaps not quite psychically ready. He really looks like a little man now. It's very cute, but I miss his shaggy surfer hair. Grandma El called the cut the 'John-John' - JFK Jr. Here are some pix...

My very wise friend C, (of the 'wiley-coyote moment' phrase), told me that she thinks of this first birthday madness as a season, that it's easier to digest that way. I agree. Having such a pinnacle, on the ONE DAY, was really overwhelming. Thinking of the weeks preceding Bridger's birth, the actual amazing day, and the days since as his 'birth season' has made this turn around the sun easier to assimilate. She's a smarty, that one.

So on this eve of an equinox, I feel a little more balanced. I'm so looking forward to fall, crisp air and frost. Ski season is just around the corner. Isabella is truly excited to help Bridger learn to ski this winter, and I am giddy at thought of watching them both revel in the mountains. I am so grateful for my babies, my family - both the family I was born to and the family I have found in my travels.

Birthday Boy

Happy First Birthday Bridger!

When I woke up this morning, I had bits and pieces of a post in my head, reminiscing on the day of his birth, rainbows and sunshine. And I will get to that, but first...

He is certainly a second child. For Isabella's first birthday I baked her an apple pie from scratch, and knit her a hat. Bridger's cake was store-bought, and I FORGOT A FUCKING PRESENT FOR MY SON. I am a shitty mother.

Knowing that this is my last child has made this birthday hard - all of his firsts are my lasts.

All that being said, he did have a lovely day. We went to the beach.

My little surfer boy stood in the cold water, and tried to crawl out to sea.

All four of his grandparents came for cake, and he does love his drum and puppy (a toy one, not a canine).

And, I have nursed this child for a whole year, with no plans to stop anytime soon. I didn't get there with Isabella, and wanted so desperately to. Score for me. Score for him.

Bridger was born on a Monday. The remnants of Hurricane Ike were swirling by, but it was sunny and humid. I had had weeks of prodromal labor, and was thoroughly cooked. The turkey timer had popped for sure.

One day I will write out his birth story in full, but not now. His birth was amazing. Two hours from water breaking to his appearance. He was born at the North Shore Birth Center, in a tub. I remember how surreal I felt during the labor, like I (monkey mind) was looking at my animal self just DOING it. Labor was like being pounded by surf, but the water made it work, not hurt. I lifted my son to my chest, and he gave this tiny cough, and looked at me, and then we climbed out of the water together. Got to go home that afternoon, pure magic.

My sunny boy.

Happy Birthday little B.

Firsts

Bye Mom! Off she went. To school. For the first time. Wow.

Deep breath. Morning went well, we got to the bus stop on time, Isabella was only a little nervous. I had labeled her lunch box and backpack, as ordered. Very sternly reminded her to be sure she remembered her lunch box. Went to Theo's house, and before 10:30 had a call from the school. Nearly shat myself. She didn't remember if she should take the bus home or not. Love 5. Breathing again, but missing her. Wondering if she was ok, had she traded out all of her lunch yet. Were the other kids nice to her. Was she having fun, or bored.

Made it home from sitting with time to spare, drove down to the bus stop, as we needed to go straight to the Y for ballet. She walks off the bus, big smile - Mommy! My lunch box leaked (all over her pants). She put a full, opened box of chocolate soy milk sideways in the box, as, no doubt, she talked through lunch and didn't finish it in time. This is learning. I ask, sweetie, where is your sweatshirt? thinking it would be in her backpack. Don't you know the one thing I didn't label... was still on the bus. She burst into tears. More learning.

But overall, good day! She has a few friends from pre-k in her class, and a girl she's met at the local playground too. I was left with feeling that sending her to school is more work than having her at home, and more homework for me - the pile of papers (pto fundraisers, waivers etc) to wade through before dinner made me feel sorry for whatever forest got hacked down to print it all. And now we do this all again tomorrow.

I do feel like such a babe in the woods with this school thing. Rob and I are the youngest parents on our street by, oh, a good 10 years. Makes me feel like a freshman at the senior prom, for sure. And I missed her.

She lost her first tooth on Saturday.

Now Isabella is a modern girl. She asked my parents where the toothfairy lives. When they were unable to provide a satisfactory answer, she says 'ok, let's google it, or look it up on wikipedia'. Teh interwebz seems to think (with some Grandpa censoring here) that the toothfairy lives in a castle in the sky, and uses the teeth she collects to do additions on the structure. Ok. The Boxford toothfairy seems to think that 10 bucks a tooth is reasonable - we contracted with her for a 5$ special for the first tooth, and there after a more recession-worthy 1 dollar.

Little man will be a year old in 6 days. Unreal, a year ago there was no longer any space in my body for any sunshine to be blown anywhere. I just wanted to not be pregnant anymore. Amazing what a year does... for all of us.

Such a sun-shiny boy he is. When I'm around. Definitely in the 'stranger anxiety' phase. He's getting ever-closer to walking - tonight he put 3 steps together.

Sometimes I feel like my heart pours out into the outer reaches of my aura. Like the love that these two magical beings has created within me is at once inside every cell, and outside because there is just not enough room. While pregnant with Bridger I worried that I wouldn't love him as much as Isabella, or that there wouldn't be enough for both of them. I'm not sure where the well is, but it never runs dry. It's both serene and terrifying, soothing and painful. But I love it. They are my heart.

A Shift in the Seasons

Today was a most perfect beach day, one of the few we've had this summer. And it's September. Yes, I know that it's still summer until the equinox, but really, summer didn't arrive in New England until a few weeks ago. We had a long extended spring, that dwelled into July, and then proceeded to have a monsoon season through most of August.

I feel sometimes like the seasons are shifting - the weather associated with each seems to come much later into that calendar period. As a child, I remember snowfall well before Christmas, and summer weather that began in May. It seems that in the past ten years or so, we don't get winter snows until February, but they last into April, and then spring rains crowd out those perfect beach days until school starts again. Global warming? Weirdness in the earth's axis? I don't know, but it feels, quite literally, like something is wrong in the universe.

So on to the pic (and video!) whoring - of our perfect September beach day.

B always looks like he's surfing...

My little super-model... I mean really, look at the length of those legs!

A new phase

Today Isabella goes to Kindergarten Orientation. My baby girl is in school. I am a little unable to wrap my head around it.

Isabella is a most endearing child. She is classically, stunningly beautiful - her features are those of an old-fashioned doll. But her spirit, her laugh is what is most alluring. She is all at once, sassy, funny, tender, brilliant. Her memory is scarily accurate, and her ability to integrate and analyse information is far beyond her years.

She was the gift I didn't know I had coming. Her arrival changed my life in every way, and has brought me a lasting gratitude to life for not always listening to my plans. What a blessing that God saw fit to allow me to be her mother.

Adventures on the AT

This weekend we went backpacking with some dear friends. This was the very first backpacking trip for all of the kids, as well as Kathryn. I personally was feeling a little nutty for taking a baby for an overnight hike-in camping trip, but the hike in was pretty easy, and short enough (2 miles) that we could bail if needed. And it was awesome.

We hiked to Little Rock Pond in VT - this is a section of the AT that is also the Long Trail. Although the day was hot and sticky, we got there in time to get settled in the Lula Tye shelter, and go for a swim before dinner. While setting up for dinner, we met a thru hiker named Gozer. She and her hiking partner Fancy Pants (love trail names) are doing the whole Appalachian Trail on only 1000$ each. Amazingly little money - and without mooching. They only accepted our invitation to share dinner when we told them the extra would go to the dogs - we definately could have packed less food :). Very cool people, and I wish them good luck and godspeed on the rest of their journey. Certainly made me realize that any AT trip for me will be when the kidlets are in college or beyond, when I can disappear for 6 months. Perhaps we'll do the Long Trail through in a few years...

Didn't sleep that well - on high alert that Bridger might try to crawl out of the lean-to, which he tried once. But it was cool and not too buggy, and there were owls around. In the morning we packed up, hiked out and went for a dip in the pool at the condo. Rob got to bike a little. Everyone was happy, had a great time, and we all agreed that doing two, even three nights next time was feasible.

Some pictures of our trip:

First Harvest

The garden looks wild. Between the killer slugs, endless rain, and the wedding bonanza (bonanstravaganza to steal a friend's awesome word) weekend that just finished, I thought I'd killed it. But no! Yesterday I picked through the weeds and crazy tomato-cucumber plant tangle and found:

Three cukes and a zucchini.

I'm not too worried about the zucchini being a bit large - there are three others on the plant that I'll catch earlier. This one can be sliced into thin strips and used in place of lasagna noodles - mmm. Happy Happy!

Food Allergies Suck, or, Why I Think 'The Secret' is (mainly) Bullshit

Bridger seems to be increasingly sensitive to eggs. On Wednesday my dear friend C came over with Nora for breakfast. I made waffles, which involved seperating egg whites and yolks. I let the white drain through my hands, but as always, washed my hands well in hot soapy water before touching anything. Fast forward about an hour... Bridger, who was shirtless (flashing those little man-boobs) because it was hot, developed what looked like a cluster of mosquito bites on his back, which in about five minutes has spread to his stomach. Now, with all this rain, there have been a few buzzers in the house, but not enough to do that. B had shared a new brand of rice puffs with Nora, so while C called the company to inquire if they share their processing facilities with any egg products, I re-read the information I have on egg allergy, and then began to think that it may have been contact. The hives were only where my hands go to pick him up. Call to the doc confirmed that that is the only possibility that makes sense.

This makes me pretty nervous, to be truthful. Each reaction has required less egg. The last time he reacted from consumption he had a TEASPOON of a large (12 inch diameter) pan full of gratin that had a SINGLE egg in it. Result? Covered in hives, and puking. Now this time I touch eggs, I touch him, and that contact point is covered in hives, and oh yeah, he ended up puking. I keep repeating in my head, 'he'll grow out of it, he'll grow out of it'. But until then, eggs are EVERYWHERE. Even the flu shot is grown in eggs, so that's off the table this winter. Thank goodness it looks like he has no plans to stop nursing, so I can at least give him any immunity I have. But yeah, this food allergy thing? It sucks. It never was on my radar, we have no family history of food allergies, I followed all the new 'rules' given to me by the doc regarding solids. And yet, here we are. Which brings me to the second part of the post title...

In YTT last weekend we watch the movie 'The Secret'. The book was endorsed by Oprah a while ago. I had heard some buzz, but really didn't know what the premise was, and thus tried to watch the insuing woo-fest with an open mind. What a mistake. The first third of the movie was dedicated to telling you, dear viewer, that anything that has gone 'wrong' in your life you have created with your negative thoughts. Now, as a survivor of sexual assault, I can tell you categorically that I did not THINK my way into being raped. And that Bridger is NOT allergic to eggs for any other reason than his immune system rejecting a protein. That whole section I was really kibbing out - it's been a long time since I sat through a trigger like that. Here are some notes that I took: 'OFFENSIVE', 'where does free will come into play?', 'sometimes shit just happens', 'I BELIEVE one cannot control what happens to us, but one can control how we react to our circumstances', 'skeptical because they are claiming to have THE ANSWER'. There are things in life we just can't control, and this thinking totally ignores that, but at the same time lets you off the hook for the things in life you have control of, the things that you can do to mitigate your circumstances. And wow, talk about blaming the victim in the incidence of violence and tragedy!

Now, in fairness, the movie wasn't a total loss. Once they got past claiming that you can think your way into a 4 million dollar house (how is that the measure of happiness and success, anyway?), there were some good points about gratitude. And I do think that positive thinking is important - we used Hypnobirthing for Bridger, and that labor preparation involved affirmations and 'visualizing' the birth that I wanted. I've used visualization in riding. But all the affirmations in the world sometimes don't play out. Shit still happens, and not because we didn't manifest our intentions well enough.

I think the real measure of success is how one deals with the shit in life, because all life is with some hardship, some pain. I think it's necessary; the heat, pressure and stress all mold us into stronger beings, if we let it. Our bones require stress to lay down new tissue to grow and strengthen. Carbon requires high heat and terrible pressure to become a diamond. My aim is to survive and thrive, regardless of the hand I am dealt.

Time to get packed up to head north - think if I wish hard enough the car won't need any gas?

It's Sunday, Here's Something to Chew on for the Week...

I watched this video today in Yoga Teacher Training - AMAZING! A perfectly scientific explanation of samadhi and oneness - my skeptical nature just loved it. So with out being a spoiler - I have had those moments - few though. Laboring with Bridger, my self saw my animal nature and physical body from afar. In Savasana, being in a moment of present observation. And now I know why - my monkey chattering left brain took a nap :)

Enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UyyjU8fzEYU

Sweetness and light

Yes, Isabella is fishing. Off the porch. This photo just says everything that is best and beautiful about being 5.

We had a wonderful trip, despite the tailend of April showers in July. Fourth of July weekend was spent at my in-laws lakeside cottage. On Monday morning we packed up and spent the next few days in Acadia National Park. It was MAGNIFICENT. Isabella is a seasoned camper, but this was Bridger's first trip. He loved it - particularly playing peek-a-boo in the tent:

Tuesday was overcast and cool, but we did go biking on the carriage roads. Being in such a beautiful place was soothing to my being. It seemed every few breaths was a moment of 'stop, look, be here'.

The rain came in Tuesday night (it was downright raw - 52 degrees!), who knew we'd need hot cocoa in July. Wednesday morning was still pretty foul, so we had lunch at Jordan Pond House, famous for their popovers and jam - yum! By early afternoon, the rain had passed, so we went for a hike around the pond. Although a popular route, the scenery is just beyond belief. There was a loon in the pond, and mist around the bubbles. It felt other-worldly.

Thursday, the day we had to drive home, the sun finally made a real appearance. We ended up hiking from our campground along Somes Sound to Thunder Hole, where we had lunch. It was bluebird, just wonderful. There was time for a little yoga by the water:

This trip definately got two thumbs up :)

And a few other notes, as I've been such a bum about posting... Garden is ... a bit wild. But I think not all is lost after the ridiculous abount of rain we had. I have zucchini blossoms, a few green tomatoes going, and I think there will be cukes as well.

I am now off zoloft. Not entirely by choice, but I'm coping. Truth is it just got to be too expensive to throw $300 a month into appointments and meds - although I wish I could have weaned off it more slowly. The withdrawal was pretty unpleasant. Pranayama has been a very important tool in managing the anxiety that is still gnawing at my edges. So has the occasional smokey treat (boo - I hadn't smoked in over four years...). But I am managing, and now feel like this is a battle I can at least think about losing, rather than a battle I can't even fight.

I'm feeling pretty hopeful on the whole though. A few months ago I felt as if I was a dead zone of sorts - like a sailboat with luffing sails, waiting for some wind to come take me to in some direction. Now there is both purpose, and quiet attention to a path. I have reconciled with my self that right now, in this moment my JOB is to mother my children. I've put together a hodge-podge of things that will help pay some bills, that can be scheduled around my kids. That all speak to my passions and interests, and use my strengths. This is the most secure I've felt in myself and my future in a long time. And it is a lovely feeling.

Vacation!

I will be unable to access teh interwebz until next weekend. A whole week of family vacation awaits - lake, fireworks, camping in Acadia, yippee! I will post pictures etc upon my return.

Peace, M

Time Travel

Yesterday Isabella graduated from Pre-K.

How did we get from there:

to here:

in only 5 years? It's been no time, and without time, all at once.

Drunken Slugs

So the beer did the trick - I only saw two of them on the plants last night when I put out the bowls of beer. This morning both bowls were full of slugs! They really like their drinky time... Woot!

Baby Yogis

Ever noticed how babies and toddlers have perfect posture without being told to sit up straight? As Bridger and Theo have begun moving in earnest, and I've begun my 200 hour Yoga Teacher Training I've been observing their posture, movement and innate yoga asana practice with great interest.

Babies seem to automatically stack their joints; that is they line their skeletal structure up perpendicular to gravity automatically. On all fours, they just know how to line their wrists up under little shoulders, or knees under hips. I have decided that they can do this because they lack the muscular strength to do anything but rely on correct alignment in relation to gravity. As Bridger sits in a most natural cobbler pose (seated with soles of feet touching, thighs splayed) I marvel at how at ease he is, at how open his hips are, and how effortlessly he sits totally erect. There is no tension in his frame - just wondrous awareness of right now.

I spent the better part of last month trying to form a hypothesis as to why babies have such natural posture, and this is what I've decided - without an ego, they have no reason to draw their shoulders forward to protect their heart, or to push the heart forward in defense. They live so completely in the present that there is no somatic repercussion to the emotional onslaught of the outside world. They are utterly authentic. It's so beautiful.

In my own practice I'm exploring moving like a baby. Initiating each movement from my sacrum, and trying to use as little muscular strength in each asana, instead relying on proper alignment and presence to find the edge in my own body - the place between ease and effort. In yoga this is known as sthirasukha. In the Yoga Sutra this is explained with an image from Indian mythology; the asana must be soft and gentle enough to serve as a couch for a god, but at the same time be strong and steady enough to support the whole earth. Another way to process this cerebrally is to rely less on the outcome of an asana, and to focus on the quality of the action. In a lot of ways I think this is how one must be to parent effectively as well.

I know a catch phrase in zen philosophy is 'beginner mind' - in my practice my phrase right now is 'baby mind, baby body'. It's been an interesting exploration - I'm curious to see how it will mature with time.

Garden Update

Finally! The promised garden pictures... (My apologies for the haphazard layout - still figuring out this whole blog picture post thing)

Before:

Like I said, it had sat untended for two summers...

Here's the garden after I cleaned the bed and planted (drumroll please) three varieties of tomato, basil, oregano, thyme, cilantro, parsley, two varieties of cukes, zucchini, eggplant, romaine, green leaf lettuce, bell and jalepeno peppers, and mint. I left the old sage plant, and chives as well.

Good thing I planted when I did, the tomato plants didn't look too good when they went in...

My friend Colleen was over for planting day - Isabella 'helped', and so did Bridger and Nora - they sat out in the sun and oversaw the operation.

Ok, done with gratuitous cute kiddie shots...

Two weeks later, my plants are doing ok! I've only lost a couple - one of each lettuces, one cuke, and one basil. I think all this wet weather has been inviting the slugs to have a little caprese salad - they really like the basil. I remember my dad used to put saucers of beer out for the slugs - I think I'll be trying that too. I'm a bit unsure of when to harvest the lettuce, and how. Do I just pull the leaves I want? Or take out the whole plant? And then replant? Confused... Need to find a organic gardening for plant killer dummies website or something.

And of course, I had to get shots of my grubs

And the snake that lives in the wall - I stepped on it by accident the other day while I was weeding - sorry buddy!

No blossoms yet, I think the eggplant and zucchini look best so far. I just keep reminding my self to focus on the quality of the action - not to be attached to the outcome. Beacuse if these all kick it, I still have our CSA share to get my summer veg fix taken care of.