Monkey Puzzle First Blooming

The Monkey Puzzle tree bloomed this year.  First time since we've been here.  A total of 4 flowers have bloomed.  It looks to be a female tree.  Apparently these trees naturalize pretty well in Oregon especially in the coast range, but they are highly threatened in their native habitat of Chile.  Maybe I can find a male tree to pollinate this one....

Another Birthday

January 13, 2020

Yesterday I completed my 50^th lap around the sun.  Most likely half the total laps have been completed, or more.  That doesn’t bother me too much, I’ve always realized we are a finite.  A little troubling is the perception of speed at which the past 10 years went by.  We have owned this place since Feb 2009.  I passed my 40^th in this house, and now like a blink my 50^th has passed. Snap. Just like that.

I have been asking myself…is this all there is?  While I like putting in the garden every year, and usually the outcome is pretty good, I was telling a friend who also gardens, it starts to feel very repetitive. Hours to days to months to years all start blurring. Some of the perception might be due to lack of note taking. Thus, renewing this blog (and keeping more notebooks), but I also think that our perception of time likely changes with age.  

The house remodel/repair looks to have a tiny little light at the end of the tunnel, so the focus can shift soon to other things. But shift to what?  I’m wondering if I’m making the right impact on the world, and how to evaluate that and change what needs to be changed. I thought for a long time I would persist in the biology/conservation world.  But I choose to divert from that by my own volition and the request of others. I see the natural world burning up (literally and figuratively) and wonder if I can do more, but struggle with what that might be.

I’ve been reading some other works about time.  I’m realizing that the only thing we possess that is priceless is our time.  We trade that time for other stuff.  We trade it for experiences, love, companionship, stories, skills, joy, adventure, security, trinkets, money...and lots of other items of greater or lesser value.  Some of these trades are good ones, others are very backward equations.  So, part of the reflection that happens with age is about these trades.  I think most of my trades have been ok, especially when I think about the most positive ones.  But the perception of fleeting time that comes with these milestone markers makes it feel as if those trades need to be very high quality from this point on.

Now that we’ve moved past the black balloons, old person jokes and cake.  What should the next 50 years look like?  Immediately perhaps renewing my first aid and CPR certification just to be safe. Then focus on new skills.  More sailing, Celestial navigation, plotting and charting.  Actually learning the fretboard.  Getting my yoga practice back on track.  More breakfasts with friends as early as possible with eye contact, stories and too much caffeine. Expanding the mind, brain and soul into genuinely new experiences.  More letter writing and less “social media” Finding efficiencies to the work around here but remembering it will always be waiting until after the hike.  There is so much more and so much time.

The end of an era, a dog shaped hole in the heart.

Wiser people than I have ruminated on the unfair nature of things concerning the loss of pets.  Unless you have a Galapagos tortoise or naked mole rat as a companion there is a pretty high chance you are going to outlive them.  That still doesn’t really prepare you for it….

We official got Layla in March of 2011, likely she was about 4.5 months old. She was the softest, little nugget with a pot belly and comical half upright ears.  

The adoption agency claimed her derivation as Boxer/Mastiff we were expecting a large dog with lots of slobber.  Instead she maxed out at about 48 pounds of pure energy and only moderate slobber.  

We started basic training as early as possible at about 6 months of ages, Thursday nights in a cold barn in Rickreall, sitting, staying, calling, she did well but the prong collar was always needed to keep her attention.  She was a good sniffer, she could find the rock coated with truffle oil placed in the driveway, but we never went as far as truffle hunting. 

Being more likely a terrier she was a chaser. Layla would keep after deer until they managed to clear the fence, returning satisfied and spent.  Once I caught up with her to find the deer halfway over the fence with Layla clamped onto one rear leg getting flailed about.  I often thought she would get kicked in the head but never did.  She knew our cats but would occasionally encounter other cats on the property, she bled badly from those encounters, but never seemed to learn from it.  Her true nemesis was likely squirrels, she knew the word and would take off like a shot to roust them from the bird feeder and keep them tree bound.

For a dog who hated baths, she often found herself coated in mud, poop of various kinds, or occasionally rotten stuff. 

Layla liked slow boats; canoe trips on the Willamette, sailing with minimal heeling. Less enamored with motorboats she would tolerate it but give you the look (leading to the Boring Dog Video series).  Layla attended several boat classes (MOCC) roaming the classroom or field lectures, talking people out of their lunches and giving good cuddles to relieve stress. 

Unimpressed with your object recovery 

She loved the beach and always got the zoomies when she hit the sand, before settling in for a long walk along the wrack line.  Layla could swim but preferred not to her PFD was a great improvement.  She would fetch a ball until the end of time. Her preferred mode of travel was in the truck seat.

 Our vacations were a great time for Layla. She got to hang with the Corvallis Labrador Contingent and apparently had much more lax rules concerning furniture.  Fawn colored in a sea of black doggos, I’d often check social media while away to find that Layla was on some cool hike somewhere…often places I’d never been. 

Ultimately, she settled in to be a farm dog.  Hanging around, chasing stuff, getting in trouble then coming to chill out in the shade while I weeded the garden, or watered trees.  Her head fur stayed soft and she liked to be scratched just below the ribs. 

Eclipse watching

The end came shockingly fast.  In retrospect there were signs, never much of a barker she started reacting with lots of barking in late July and early August.  August 10 brought a huge group of people for a potluck, she seemed to have a good time but was exhausted by nights end.  August 13 was a trip to the vet, but on the 14^th she began waking into walls, bumping into furniture, she couldn’t find her water dish without help, another vet visit… WBC counts and liver tests revealed nothing physical.  Faced with a neurological condition we put her on some meds but failed to fend off the symptoms and decline. 

 She still liked people but lost her over the top circle tail wag.  It seemed she lost a clear sense of who I was, shying away from affection. She’d pick up a tennis ball if prompted and chew it for a few minutes, then wander off with it tucked under her lip.  Her balance was reduced enough that she would fall off the stairs, wander into flowerpots and trip over objects.  On Aug 28, 2019 we tried to go to the coast for one last beach trip, but she couldn’t tolerate the motion of the car.   We decide to relieve her of all of it.  

She looked at me with her big brown eyes as the drugs took effect and slipped off into the ether. 

Godspeed pup I’m gonna miss you.

Sleeping bag...ends and beginnings.

This year for Christmas my wife, sisters and mom teamed up to get me most of the way to a new sleeping bag.  The old one had run its course.  But it got me thinking about the travel we'd seen.  I bought it new in 1995 as I graduated university and was outbound for my first field biology gig.  New Hampshire in the White Mountains where I slept in that bag nightly for several months.  From there more seasonal gigs, Northeast Oregon, Florida,  Alaska for a couple summers and onward.

A good sleeping bag is arguably the most important piece of gear for living "outdoors"  Your little cocoon of warmth and safety when you need it.  I'm not going to lie, I miss those days at times.  the relative simplicity of having pretty much just what you need when you need it.  Plus, space and time to see around you, take it in.

So hopefully this new bag will live up to the old one not only in performance (it's better) but also acting as a capsule into the woods and further adventures.

Dusting off the Blog

Instead of endless scrolling through Facebook posts, I've decided I need to spend that time on better pursuits. Primarily writing and playing guitar...some of the writing will take place here...stay tuned.

Sping is springing

So I found this today while preparing olive trees for fertilizer. Not sure what it is but it's kind of neat.

Olive trees finally in the ground

Today, finally, I got around to getting olives in the ground.  A wet spring and other vagaries of life pushed back enough to focus on a dedicated project.  Last week I tilled out 3 swaths of ground.  As fulfilling as running the tractor can be it is way more gratifying to quietly dig the ground and plant the trees.  The slice of the steel through the softened earth, quiet of the afternoon, sweat, makes for a good day.  At least 2 more plantings are planned but now to revel in the first.

3 rows all the trees are equidistant at 17 feet from any neighboring tree