My dad is in the ICU on a ventilator. Covid.
I remember nothing.
Diagnosed and fixed my car issue my own damn self 🏆
Mmm not exactly what I was looking for, but I will for sure drink the whole bunch.
It’s fallish, and I’m ready.
Spending it with these babies this weekend.
They’re little trees. 2450 of them. It’s a hardwood buffer planting in its infancy, and will be a home for inland birds and insects and other animals, and provide food for all of them. Really nice, high-quality food. It’ll also provide important filtration of water before it reaches the Great Bohemia Creek, which is riiiiight there to the right of the photo.
I and my coworkers have to keep the trees upright in their protective tubes for, well, years.
I’m so darned proud of this planting. I didn’t do it, but I feel privileged to help maintain it, as long as the grass isn’t up to my chest, ha. We just got done a lengthy no-mow period, because of fawn season and some other (carefully planned) reasons, and checking tree tubes was bonkers.
But now? It’s the greatest, actually.
Soundtrack: https://youtu.be/gF8fnsyjCoI Not surprising, right?
Can’t wait to get out there today.
Gym (swim). Short meeting (Narcan training-do it if you can!). Nap (disco). Beach (Rehoboth). Beer and dinner (Dogfish Head Resolve, a great salad).
Good, as days go.
I’m starting to love summer again.
Looking at bugs, seeing who’s here.
Hawk Mountain’s beautiful native habitat garden. Tranquil. Inspiring.
I wanted to visit the Pinnacle, but by the time I got there, I didn’t have time to do about 10.5 miles before nightfall.
I’ll try again. Still, I got my boots on here, just a little bit.
We came back: exhausted, sore, covered in bruises, sunburned in hilarious patterns, and Small Craft Safety certified. I feel proud about it.
I’m glad to be home at my sweet park. I loved the other one, but I missed it here.
The people who have lived here know there’s magic.
The people who haven’t lived here figure it out.
The woods have my heart, but now the water calls me, too.