Summer

We've been surrounded by insane beauty, and I mean that in a good way.  Beauty as in nature, nurturing relationships, and plenty of opportunities to equanimously practice staying-in-the-present (as opposed to freaking out in the face of an emergency).  Case in point: We took the RV to Port Townsend for Kai's Fiddle Tunes Festival Kids Camp.  It's a three hour journey that involves a ferry ride to the Olympic Peninsula.  Halfway into our journey, one of the RV's rear tires blew with a sickening noise.  There was no jack in the RV, and after several phone calls to several places, and after unsuccessfully using a borrowed jack from a gas station, we realized that we needed professional help.  And the saga began.  Two tow truck companies (don't ask me) and three hours later, we were on the road again, having missed our ferry reservation and having had plenty of opportunities to practice the aforementioned staying-in-the-present attitude (as opposed to freaking out in the face of an emergency).
Here are Steve and Kai heroically trying to detach the spare tire, which was stubbornly secured with rusted nuts and bolts, while I unheroically hid in the RV, trying not to sob hysterically while a very, very bored four-year-old Eva jumped on the bed, screaming for the 107th time, "When are we leaving, when are we leaving?"

Alas, things looked up after this particular hiccup.  In fact, Fiddle Tunes and visiting with our dear friends Joy and Cedar was a blast.  We parked the RV in their driveway, next to their amazing paradise of a garden.  Kai biked the ten minutes to Fort Worden every day, learned several new tunes and honed his fiddle skills.  Eva played with our friends' little daughter, frolicked on the beach, and consumed massive amounts of strawberries, thimble berries, raspberries and cherries.  Lukas, the good sport, tagged along merrily wherever we went.

Since fiddle camp only occupied three hours in the morning, we spent the afternoons lazing at the beach, visiting with friends, knitting, and just plain being lazy.  It does wonders for the soul, that business of being lazy.
When you live in the wilderness, as we do, spending time in a place like Port Townsend is kind of earth shattering.  It's such a foreign and blissful notion to be able to bicycle to any place you want, say the bakery, or the Food Coop, or the library.  Where we live, it takes an hour drive in the car to get to these places.  

Back home in our wilderness paradise, we were greeted by lots of weeds, lots of produce ready to be harvested, and a grateful old Pluto-dog who looked older somehow.  The grass grew to epic proportions in the five days we were gone.  Kai remedied this on the riding lawn mower as the goats watched him.  Steve immediately got behind the rototiller to "weed" the garden paths.  Apples, plums, and blueberries waved at us enticingly, not quite ready for harvest, but soon, soon.  The clematis had climbed over the goat shed on top of the fig tree, while many other flowers competed for our attention.  Ahhh, home, sweet home...