getting a wood chip buzz and respecting the boundaries of a lizard named Happy Tiny
Our next door neighbor is an arborist and five or six days ago I chanced into generous receivership of an enormous pile of fragrant, fermenting wood chips and leaf matter from work his crew did on a towering deodar cedar in the alley behind our respective houses (there were some reportedly dangerous limbs). I finally cleared the driveway this afternoon and our yard now has ten different waist-high mounds of bark in addition to bark-lined footpaths and then there’s the big pile of bark next to the boys’ dumpy ramshackle lean-to fort in the backyard (they’re in heaven, because boys and girls love to jump into piles of soft things). It’s all I can do to not scrape away handfuls of needles and leaf-chop every time I go outside, just to inhale one whiff of hot dust and ferment (one whiff only, because something tells me it’s not a highly recommendable thing to do). You can smell our yard from halfway up the street, haha! At any rate, as much as I enjoy filling my lungs with the elixir of woody dust, with the exception of those trees which are sacrificed for necessities such as toilet paper, books or not getting hit on the head by a huge falling limb, I prefer trees intact and I wanted to share this view from a steep, forested mountainside in the Olympic Mountain range. This was when I was on my way to Lake of the Angels, the experience of which you’ll recall I expounded upon with a degree of melodramatic detail last week.This week, Little Brother has been doting on a thumb-nail sized rubber lizard, Happy Tiny, that big brother won at the school carnival last weekend. I’m not trying to be precious, two and a half year olds do things like name their tiny rubber lizards and also blood-curdlingly scream at anyone who dares to move the small lizard from the edge of the dining room table or fruit bowl…….