this is water, this is water, this is water...

yesterday, i long rambled the mushroom path, ate this-plate-is-very-hot fajitas, read a book about nantucket basket weaving practices, and then boba and i saved the world. it was a good day

last night i dreamt i was living in a rambling old share house, like the one where uma lived in sydämen koti. we were having an open house, an art show, a huge party, and in the middle of it i found my grandmother, my short, round, finnish lake witch grandma, not my tall, angular, adirondack mountain witch grandma. she had moved into the small room, an old cupboard, off of the kitchen. i got to hug her and walk her through the house, showing her all the lovely people and all the lovely things. the crowds of guests parted as we walked through, everyone taking extra care not to jostle the old lady. i don't dream about her often, once a year maybe, but it's always so nice when i do. i could still feel the hug when i woke up.

last week, we went firefly camping in a ghost town. we saw forty elk, grazing in the darkness, twenty merganser ducklings, seven black bears, six wild turkey poults, and too many fireflies to count. it was a good week

we went swimming in cold clear river water, the spot we've been going to since before they were born. that place always resets something in me. i'm trying to hold onto it now that we're back

fallie and i hiked up jake's creek, through the gap, down panther creek, and along the middle prong, and it felt so good

as an experiment, i packed a whole party cut pizza into single serving bags for lunches. it was a nice change from sandwiches. i also premade a batch of veggie rice bowls and that worked well too. camp cooking is fun but i wanted less camp time and more woods rambling time this year

today should finally be sunny and dry enough to set up the tent in the courtyard to dry and sweep, pack away properly for next time, and that will be that

i foraged a stack of old trade magazines last week. i started processing the paper this morning

after a too dry spring, we've had inches and inches of rain the last two weeks. there are mushrooms all over the place. yesterday, i cut through the sanctuary to the owl prowl, without getting trespassed by the old lady again. the woods were so lush, the trails were dark tunnels. i finished a new mixtape and i have almost enough trimmings for a sprue

last night we ate faux-fil-a nuggies and fancy fries, drank dollar bucket nonsense, and talked about firefly camping next week

i think the camera i here is the same one i used to shoot all the polaroid jesus pictures. it's old and well used. i know the new film chemistry isn't the same. a lot of the old stuff for it isn't made, isn't safe, isn't legal anymore. the new formulas, not quite right yet. the prints don't smell right when they're developing. still, i think the old camera has the most say in how these pictures are turning out. they're getting more and more painterly. i love how they look against the dark

also happy cunty mix season for all who celebrate

we've had so much rain this week. it shutdown the highways and overwhelmed the water treatment plants and hid the horizon with fog

in the last month, boba's brought me two dead moles and one chipmunk. they're limp and lifeless but unmutilated and she trades them for just a couple of treats. she's so excited when she presents them to me, and i'm proud of her, but still sad for the little beasts

everytime she heads out, i warn her against interfering with the songbirds, but i know if she has a chance at a cardinal, she'll take it

last night, i slept well and dreamt of a life in a tall tower and dreamt of going to another room to kiss a girl and dreamt of signs with almost words dancing and shaking into the shapes of happy animals

later today, we're going to heat up a cast iron wok full of peanut oil and deep fry natural casing sabrett's and crinkle fries and i'll drink a tall boy and fall asleep watching baseball on the couch