Weekends in Pullman. . . .in the summer. . . .and the heat

Friday afternoon . . . . . the day drags on

Okay how do you beat the heat in Pullman, easy you move your bed outside! For the last month I've been sleeping outside on the porch, and I love it. Waking up with the sun, hearing the birds, the wind and rain, it's glorious! I'm thinking about trying to keep it up during the winter - we'll see it can get down to and stay at sub-zero temperatures. I'm turning into a hick I know.

Saturday: Farmers Market
You are looking at our future people!
And by "our future" I mean Idaho's future so don't loose to much sleep,
that is, unless you are from Idaho!

Adventuring Saturday Evening
After market I decided that I would camp in a wheat field, deep in the Palouse, a place where no matter where I looked I would see rolling fields, at least that was the plan.

1180 Peterson Loop Drive
In trying to find a secluded spot to star gaze, a spot deep in the lost and forgotten places, I left the asphalt, and went for gravel, I traded gravel for dirt, and won out when I found the less than dirt roads, needless to say all that traveling tends to coat ones windshield, with a grimy coating of dust.

Waiting for Rescue
So add a beautiful sunset, loud music, and a sharp turn into aforementioned sunset, and you may end up as I did, high centered in a ditch, on a road that no one knows you are on, in a place no one frequents, that is no except your friends with a Suburban and tow ropes that you still need to return, who spend a good twenty minuets trying to track you down on Google maps, and then an hour driving out to rescue you. Thank goodness for amazing cell phone reception!

Sunday: Oversleep and miss church
I was up at 5:30 on Saturday, and did not get to bed till after one on Sunday

So I made a pool and read a couple chapters of Piper
And by made a pool, I of course mean I cleaned out an old horse trough. . . hickish I know


Market Weekend

I wrote three separate blogs entries to go with these pictures from last weekend, and deleted them all. I love the market. These pictures don't do it credit.


WSU Auction and Hair

Well the auction this month was sadly lacking. Nothing really amazing, I spent a good amount of time looking at the book section, sometimes something rare and amazing will appear. Not my luck this visit, no this visit, instead of a good book, I found the indecisive, hovering, stands to close, book stalker. I don't know if you've had the pleasure of meeting this gentleman, dear reader. You might have met his wife, the vocal garage sale bargain hunter, in your Saturday morning adventures. Unlike his wife he does not know what he wants, but he does know where it is, it is right next to the books you are looking at. He is so worried that you or someone else might find that which he seeks that he ignores personal space, and all the rules that keep society afloat, that keep man from descending to the level of the beasts. When he first sidled up to me, I found myself thinking "Oh! Hello! You're close. . . . .uncomfortably. . . . . . . . . .close". I tried to shake him, only to find myself, my books rather being pursued. When I realized what he was after I decided that I was going to have as much fun with this as I could.

Will he follow me?

Sure enough, if I paused anywhere and pulled out a book or two, he was there, if I lingered too long he would move in closer, to get a better look, if he was interested even closer still. At first it was fun to see just how far he follow me, once that got old I decided to see just how close he would get, if I stood my ground. It got to the point where I would look at a book on an upper shelf, stoop down to the lower shelf, only to have him lean and reach over me to get at the upper shelf books. I was having way too much fun, this odd, indecisive, little, round headed man chasing me thru the stacks. I say indecisive because while he gazed at the books with a solemnity that I could not even begin to muster, they were always found to be lacking, but just lacking, as he would drift back, or pick them up and carry them for a while and then deposit them once again on the shelf, and start his collection afresh. At ten cents a tome, I can understand how these choices warred against his soul. In the end we both found that the shelves held little for us, and went our separate ways.

Sorry about all the flower shots lately, I've been to busy to scope out cool locations, and as the flowers are here. . . . . . . . . .


Bad Chicken. . . .

Don't eat chicken that you leave in your car overnight.

It won't be good in the morning

Trust me on this one

Heading home. . .


I should not try to blog when I'm this spent

I spoke to a women today, a women flowing over with wisdom and insight, she speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue. I've only know her a few months, eaten dinner with her and her husband a few times, and yet, yet I feel like I've known them for decades. Not due to many long discussions, talks deep into the night, this is not a feeling arising from mere familiarity, its not the way I get to know the guy in the next office, or the mailman. It has come about from only a few short conversations, I leave feel understood and cared for. I don't feel like I'm receiving any unusual attentions from them, rather that everyone that they meet receives the same. I don't know how to thank them other than by striving to do the same, to share the comfort I have received.

I find that is what comfort tends to do, it drives its recipients forward, spurs them on to be the comfort they received to others who are hurting. If you have ever tutored a group of kids in math you will understand what I mean, the kids will be stumped, and then one will suddenly understand the new concept, the light turns on - everything clicks, and within seconds they are off teaching it to their friends. As I walk this road, I find that I often don't fully know or fully understand something till I can teach it, till I can share it. It is not till I share the knowledge inside my head that I finally start to fully understand it. I think comfort is like this on some level as well, till we share that knowledge in our heads and our hearts, we have not fully understood the comfort we have received. We have not sounded its depths, seen its breadth, nor could we, for when we received it, we were lacking in perspective.

I realize that this is a rambling blog entry that is disjointed at best, forgive me it's been a long couple of weeks. I'm exhausted and going to bed, but before I do I'll toss up a few pictures from my Sunday camp out, (please remember just how weird fire is to photograph) oh yeah it snowed here on Tuesday - odd I know.


In the greenest of our valleys. . .

In the greenest of our valleys,
By good angels tenanted,
Once fair and stately palace --
Radiant palace --reared its head. . . .


Some of you have voiced doubts at just how green the Palouse can be, in the hopes of showing you just how green it truly is I will post unedited photos next to edited ones. I'll post the originals now, and the edited ones later this evening after work.