For all the lonely ladies out there on this fine,
fine Saturday night:
Here are some foxy firefighters for you.
Thank God for the North Cascades Smokejumpers.
Please note: The seventh man from the left IS taken.
xx
The Plume
The Love Letter & Other Random Bits
July 3, 2011 by
*Yes. My name usually has two l’s.*
I just thought I’d share RW’s latest love letter with you.
I just thought I’d share RW’s latest love letter with you.
That envelope is a hum dinger, eh?
RW’s magnificent, shy and kind rookie brother and fellow smokejumper drew this up for me. I’m enchanted by it. Cap needs some encouragement, my friends, can we all put our hands together for him and tell him to never quit drawing. Ever.
*clap clap clap*
Also, he is a track and field star, lives in Tucson and is relatively single (though he informed me his girl situation is complicated…whatever that means…I think it means he’s single or can do better…). So if you’re in Tucson and you want to date one of the best fellows on the planet, please contact me at thenoisyplume@gmail.com and I’ll arrange a blind date for you in autumn.
Why?
Well. Because.
I believe in love.
And this fellow deserves love.
______________________________________________
Righto.
Funny anecdote that will make you snicker (and swoon because a man handling a baby thing is always very touching):
A couple of weeks ago RW and a few other boys were out with their base manager doing something to a fire look-out tower on the top of a mountain. When they pried a board off a wall of the tower, they found a chipmunk nest. RW’s boss took a stick, poked the nest and eventually found a baby chipmunk in it. He reached out, stroked it gently with one finger and said:
It won’t bite.
He scooped it up, put it in his pocket and took it home to his little girls.
I officially have baby chipmunk envy.
I am also incessantly pestering RW about finding me a helpless baby critter in the woods to care for, it doesn’t even have to be a chipmunk, it could be an owlet or a star nosed mole or a young bison. Whatever. I just want something wild and fresh living with me here at The Gables.
*Apparently, Mister Belsby also has a pet flying squirrel he rescued as a baby from the forest…what have I got to do to rescue wild infantile critters??!!! You may or may not believe this, but I watch for them all the time when I’m out and about. I have since I was 12 when I used to scour the banks of the Saskatchewan River for owlets — just like Farley Mowat.*
*Apparently, Mister Belsby also has a pet flying squirrel he rescued as a baby from the forest…what have I got to do to rescue wild infantile critters??!!! You may or may not believe this, but I watch for them all the time when I’m out and about. I have since I was 12 when I used to scour the banks of the Saskatchewan River for owlets — just like Farley Mowat.*
____________________________________________
And in review:
I watched this and it was very good but disturbing (only because it was so real and set in normal, present day). I can’t help it, I think Carey Mulligan is so extraordinary. Every role she’s ever had has been utterly compelling. What ever “it” is, she has it. Watch it.
One of my dear, long distance friends sent it to me.
Not only is the story gritty, breathtakingly beautiful and heartbreakingly real, but it’s beautifully structured and composed.
I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m utterly haunted in every way.
And I love my dogs.
And I’m ever more afraid of rogue pit bulls (but think about it, the breed was bred to fight for centuries…you’re going to have those instincts surface from time to time…) (urp…that’s a sensational topic, isn’t it…).
Most of all, when the author described herself as a gregarious hermit, I understood her. Fully.
Just pick up a copy.
Ukulele and Eddie!!!
I like it because it makes me feel like a feisty, countrified pineapple salad.
Just give it a hear.
Ok?
Ok.
I have to run,
I told Penelope we’d play Scrabble.
She likes to use big words like onomatopoeia.
She likes to use big words like onomatopoeia.
x
Hot hot…
December 3, 2010 by
Most smokejumpers take their coffee strong and black.
Mine likes hot chocolate.
With whipped cream.
Hands off, ladies.
I saw him first.
Summer Begins
May 15, 2010 by
I don’t judge the start of summer by any particular date or outdoor temperatures. Nor do I claim it begins when my tomatoes are of a certain height or when the raspberry patch reaches a certain level of prolific productivity. It does not start, for me, on some lingering solstice when the sky spins with an eternal twilight and the thick scent of wildflowers on the mountain slopes makes my lungs slow and romantic.
I mark the start of summer when he leaves.
It ends when he comes home.
I just sent him to Winthrop, Washington to attend 2010 smokejumping rookie training — to jump out of air planes and fight forest fires. I just sent him on what might be the adventure of a lifetime and quite possibly to the most difficult physical (and mental) experiences he’ll ever have in life! But I won’t be outdone in this realm and I plan to have my own adventures this summer. Lots of them. My head and heart are in excellent spaces, I’m feeling light as a feather.
I stake my claim on this season
and will draw from it
only the
very
best
good.
I stake my claim on this season
and will draw from it
only the
very
best
good.
Bon voyage, best friend and lover.
My heart is steadfast.
And I believe in you.
Wish him luck!
Send him positivity, prayers and strength!
See you about, chickadees!
xx
CUTENESS OVERLOAD with a pinch of the serious…
March 28, 2010 by
OH GOLLY.
RW and I have been making many trips to our local
ranching supply store so that I can hold all of the fluffy baby things.
At the moment, they have rabbits (yes, I know I look like a gleeful 12 year old in this photo).
They have baby ducks.
They have a million precious little waggling chicken butts.
I want to take everything home.
RW reminds me we can get two little chickies as soon as the coop is finished being built.
Then I say, “WAHHHH.”
And we leave with steer manure and a couple of bales of peat moss instead.
Life is unfair.
I must say, on the serious side of things, I feel like I’ve been HERE but mildly absent lately.
From the blogosphere.
From the interwebs.
Besides hosting company at The Gables and being generally, very busy, I realized last week that I’m losing RW very soon to the Northern Cascades and parachutes and airplanes and in a fit of pure panic I’ve been very conscious about taking a lot of time to hold him close, kiss him every time I walk past him in our house, dance with him, bake him treats, cook him delicious food and spend every spare moment I can muster with him before May hits and I find myself without my best friend. Again.
That’s just the way things are right now.
That’s just the way my priorities are lining up right now.
I’m zealously loving my man in the moment before I have to tell him good bye.
Before long, I’ll be wrapped up in a solo summer
wherein time will be full of other things:
*adventure
*personal growth
*sterling dreams
*gardening
*running and extending my mileage on the mountain
trails, foot after foot, long strides, wind in my hair
*traveling by truck in The West
*fishing, hiking, climbing
It’s a dreadfully fantastic thing, being the wife of a wildland firefighter.
I’m learning, year by year, to look at the summertime as an opportunity
instead of a sum of time to be passed as quickly as possible.
I know it’s only springtime
but I’m looking ahead and preparing myself.
It’s the only way I’m sure I’ll bounce, when the time comes.
In the meanwhile, I’m all heart-akimbo
for my manly-mano
and I thank you for your gracious-excuso
for my quiet-itessmo.
Happy Sunday to you all.
I hope your heart and soul are well rested and ready for a new week!
Grab the next seven days by the horns
and hold on tight.
Love to you,
Jillian
PS Awesomeness alert: