Tuesday, April 04, 2017

Treefort 2017 pt 1


I'm not going to impose order or make sense out of this. I'm just doing to do a photo-braaaap. This is my friend Jason shooting the amazing band The Coathangers at the Linen Building.


Thunderpussy on the Main Stage.


DJ Henry Pope on the Radioland stage. 


This is Ora Cogan, who played at the Boise Contemporary Theater before Grouper. Ora Cogan was gorgeous and intensely enjoyable, but the big impact came from Liz Harris, aka Grouper, who did not allow photo or video. An amazing set that I'll be writing more about momentarily. 


Had a great day out with Theo. Here's the boy being a DJ.


Theo the Strongman, complete with strongman mustache stamp.


Theo on the air guitar. 

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Theo on lead vocals. 


Friday, March 31, 2017

Treefort 2017 pt 2


DJ Sol Rising makes a dance party of Radioland. 


Whippoorwill came from Fort Collins to knock us out. 


And knock us out they did.


There was a giant gorilla.


And there was Lizzo. Dang, was there Lizzo. Most fun set of the weekend. 


Theo had his first laps around the Rhodes Skate Park. 


Sisters and everyone who watched them had a blast. 


And our pals Sienna and Emily came home to hang with us. 

All in all, a great few days. 

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Sayulita getaway


We just spent a fantastic week in Sayulita, Nayarit, Mexico. 


We relaxed, swam, ate, relaxed. 



Theo and Cathy made fast friends with Duke, but somehow I was able to keep him from coming home with us. Dude had it pretty good living on the beach.


These pics are not the best, and they're a bit fuzzy, but it's taking me a while to transfer the good ones and I wanted to get something up here. I'll replace them soon. 




No, I did not catch this rooster fish. 





We're home, and sad to leave the beach, but glad to see Josie and our house and drink from the tap and eat lettuce again. 


More to come!

H Is for Hawk


This book is turning me inside out. It is one of the most surprising and gorgeous and affecting and powerful things I have read in a long time. 

This book is breaking my heart. 

It's no undiscovered gem--it was on every list imaginable when it came out a couple years ago. And deservedly so. A memoir, a meditation, a weaving of stories disparate in time and character, a deep examination of memory and language and life and death, Helen Macdonald has created a thing unto itself, a tumultuous series of arcs and plunges through joy and despair. 

The depth of inquiry into nature--both the wildness that was and that is disappearing but that still surrounds us, and that within all beings, human or avian or otherwise--is remarkable in its clarity and its curiosity and its profound understanding even as the story dwells in the agony of not understanding. 

Macdonald's dad died, suddenly, and she has a hell of a time with it, to say the least. It capsizes her life and her mind and sends her reeling into herself, into isolation, into falconry. And while the trapping and raising and training and sporting of birds of prey has never been at all interesting to me, every word and interaction and relation is totally mesmerizing. The world seen simultaneously through a human at the ragged edge of sanity and a bird, a young goshawk, at the beginning of her life and her relationship with this human who is both in charge and in need. Desperate need. 

The transformations in the stories are beautiful and horrible, fulfilling and terrible. And the words used to relate these things are just unbelieveably exactly right and memorable. 

This is a strange book. It's scary and powerful, though it may not seem so at first. I can't recommend it enough. But, be careful. 

This is how

Monday, January 16, 2017

Holiday at Bogus with Theo


Bluebird day at the local mountain, and Theo was off-school for MLK Day, so guess what we did. 


We headed up the hill and skied pretty much all day. Connected with some friends, explored the tree cave...



And did run after run of fantastic groomer snow. 




I love that we get to do this. 


Before heading back into this, beneath the inversion, where it's cold and buried beneath a low ceiling. 



We'll be back here, though, very soon. Big storm blowing in this week. And what do people do around here when a big nasty threatening winter storm rolls in? Why, drive 16 miles up a windy mountain road to play in the snow, of course. Duh. 

Tuesday, January 10, 2017

Winter has come


I've been trying to remember when I last experienced a winter like this one. I remember one in high school, back in Illinois, that was COLD for a long time, windy, icy roads, lots and lots of snow in the way it gets in the midwest. 

That's a long time ago now. 


This one has been challenging. It was great for a while--the snow just kept coming right through the holidays, the skiing was better and better, it stayed cold enough for the snow to stay fresh and soft. We had fun. 


We skied and played and sledded and ran and hiked. 


We stayed indoors and got cozy and prepped for the coming of this hygge thing. Good practice. 


We took a New Year's trip to Sun Valley and had a fantastic winter vacation in the cold and snow and sun. 





We came home, and the snow kept falling. 


And the ice came, and the cold stayed. We found interesting ways to entertain ourselves, like creating a reading box. So Theo had a place to read. This was our neighbor Amy's idea. Genius. 



School snow days meant working from home with a new office mate. Lots of fun. Productive, even. 


We got out. Went for a couple walks. Went to movies...


It was tough to escape. These days, we're spending our time on ladders with ice picks, or in gutters with wading boots, chipping ice and clearing ice dams and trying to find and open storm drains to prepare for the impending melt flood. 

I'm remembering what really having winter was like, as a kid, in Illinois. Much of it is great. Some of it is not. But, there's always one fantastic thing, if you just make the effort. 


Get out and have fun. Play in the snow. Seek the sun. Stay human. 

And stay warm and dry, Boise.