Developments

First off, I'd like to thank those of you who continue to check and read this ambling, sorry ass blog. i've been slacking a fair bit. Course, it's summer in Maine and if it's sunny I'm outside or feeling guilty that I'm not outside in which case I should be doing something productive, like checking the online weather service to see when the next sun will be coming to a square foot near me. That kind of thing.

Summer. It's here. It's kicking ass. The lupines are in full, stunning bloom and the forests are dizzying green. We took our first canoe paddle on the lake last evening and watched two blue herons on the shore. Despite her protests, ("Don't wanna go in the canoe.. no... no canoe... yes... canoe") Raelin loved it. Yup, this is the time of year when you remember why you left places that are temperate year round. Raelin and I wander down to the lake, stopping to pick buttercups and bushwhack just enough off the path so it's over her head and exciting, but not so far that one step doesn't put her back on mowed grass. We follow butterflies and plunk our butts down to watch the dogs leap and romp their way to the lake. We duck as they race back to us, slack lips flapping in the breeze.

Since Raelin has turned two, she's become quite mature. She plays for longer periods of time by herself, often singing bits of various tunes as she busies (is that a word?) herself doing various toddler tasks that are hard to describe except for the ones that are easily identifiable, like making muffins in her kitchen. She strides over to me purposefully and proclaims, "Muffin for Mama!" and places in my hand one clammy black bean. I thank her profusely and comence loud chomping noises. Grinning madly, she hurries to put in another batch. Toddlers, you gotta love 'em. More and more fun by the day, she pushes boundaries one minute and then croons, "I love you! " the next. It's maddening.... maddeningly wonderful.

In other developments.... I'm feeling less like a tool on the soccer field and started taking a class at the Y with the most phenomenal physical instructor I've ever come across. I took one of her classes the first year we were here. Entitled "Expect to Sweat" I think a more apt term would be, "Expect to Sweat... and Drown." This class, "High Intensity Training" is no less enticing. I think we easily drop to do at least 50 push-ups in various configurations throughout the hour. The woman- Kimberly- is a frigging rock. She's also sweet, spirited, and kicks our asses. I love it. (though, not the part where I start to slide on the floor trying to do push-ups because of all the sweat that has dripped. that's kinda gross.)

I attended a really nice full moon, Solstice women's circle the other night. Great vibes... really down to earth and open people. Nice to be out doing a ritual in nature again. We did a little thing at the end where we released something we wanted to let go of. I decided to let go of obsessing. I mean, it's time. Obsessing gets me no where. It's pure mind-fucking, and not very a very good one at that. So- rational contemplation is ok. Obsessing, not ok.

Our young, fluffy chicks are sporting full, real chicken feathers! While they are losing their baby cuteness, they are still just too comical for words and so remain endearing. Supposedly I am building them an outdoor house on wheels this weekend. A chicken tractor, they call it. Huh.

Well, that's about the scoop from our neck of the woods.

It's summertime, and the living is easy...

Over and out.