Marshmellows And Other Foodstuffs

A sampling of our diets.

It’s five a.m. and I’m on my third marshmallow with the coffee brewing. Off to a good start.  Not the best food choice but I seem to be doing well enough for my age – years of exercise, perhaps.

Speaking of marshmellows, we decided to roast them for Easter this year. We prefer to incinerate them. Nothing beats a carbonized shell filled with what survived. The inside also makes a nice dirt magnet and hair sealant.

We whittled sticks for the occasion but I couldn’t get mine thin enough. I might as well have been using a broom stick.

Surprisingly, our son, whom we’d dragged out of his trailer for family time, suggested we roast again the next day.

Dusting off the lawn chair.

My husband is easy to feed and I like to cook so we’re good for each other. He’ll eat anything except seafood (some varieties look like insects, he says) and cottage cheese.

He finds tortillas especially useful and would put a trout in one, only the fish is too close to a seafood (I guess).  Yesterday, I saw him crammed into the pantry from the waist up, looking for a snack. Later I caught him ladling last night’s hamburger gravy into a sourdough bun he’d hollowed out. Not so bad except he was eating it cold. I’m grateful he recently discovered cooking with Chef Ramsey.

We always have sweets around but we also keep plenty of fresh fruits and vegetables on hand. It’s tick season so we have a cutting board filled with fresh cut garlic and tomatoes to snack on throughout the day. Garlic can make you nauseous if eaten by itself, thus the tomatoes. We smell but that’s the point – theoretically, the ticks also think we stink.

We could do away with the sweets and be perfect but what is life about if you can’t enjoy a charcoal encrusted lump of sugergoo that’s guaranteed to dissolve your tooth enamel on contact?

 

Wood Gathering: A Poem

At night in the woods.

Disclaimer: This is kind of a cliché poem but I had fun writing it.

Air sharp as glass, ice scraping flesh

Breath escaping in frosty plumes

Feet frozen, struggling up hill to the place where the wood lies

Snow glows bluish, dark shapes fracturing it’s crust, frozen in escape

Stillness, snow holding tightly to all sound but the travelers

Constellations assume their poses, looking back through time with patient curiosity, eyes extinguished for millenia

Flashlights swing right to left and back, searching

Pausing, putting down the wood bag; catching breath

One stands watch while the other sets to work

Listening; sharp crack, blade falling

Wood rending under blows

Load bundled, nervous glances; fears better left unvoiced

Back to light, too far away

Not too quick, not wanting to look behind

Home close, steps quicken in urgency

Silent reassurances; nothing is there

A sound from the darkness, wood flung aside, clattering

All thoughts of fire forgotten

In flight, flashlights abandoned

Stairs, porch, door flung open, in

Dawn brings light, safety promised

Door opens, cautious glance

Long shadows cast by an early sun reveal clawed tracks in the snow

26219371_10214707809985948_2243291202558779177_n
A track my husband found right outside of our trailer last winter after hearing howls “like out of a movie” nearby.

Fire

The ban has lifted.

My husband and I love to sit by a campfire. Who doesn’t?

We had to wait until the burn ban was lifted before we could have one and the other day it finally was.

Eastern Washington is a wildfire waiting to happen. Being dry and moderately arid out here, it seems as if there’s always a fire somewhere during the summertime.

Recently, there was an especially large one just past the neighboring town of Kettle Falls on the far side of the Columbia River. It lasted for a couple of weeks before they gained control of it. While out and about, we watched helicopters dip water buckets into the Columbia river then head back to the fire. It was impressive to watch.

During fire season, there seems to be a perpetual haze in the sky. The air quality was so bad once, you could see the haze inside the grocery store. It seemed as if almost every day we’d hear the siren going off, summoning all hands to a fire.

With the all-clear, we had our first fire tonight.

I’d like to eventually create a nice sitting area around the fire pit, with rocks set into the ground like a patio.

Since the times when fires are allowed is short, we’re looking forward to some some evenings out here before the snow and cold arrive once again.