pocatello — Page 6

The Dog Days of Winter

February 26, 2010 by The Noisy Plume

At some point, this afternoon, a girl put her torch down at her soldering bench, walked up the back steps of her house, wandered into a spare room a boy was busy renovating and said, “Let’s go for a walk. Let’s go for a walk and let’s take the Happy Dog and the Weenie Dog.”

So they did.

The sun flexed its puny little brink-of-spring muscles and the girl took a chance and wore nothing but wool and a teal dress.

When they arrived at the other side of town, the girl and the boy released the Happy Dog into the park.

The Happy Dog ran free and wild.

No other dog could keep up with his pace.

He frothed at the mouth.

He whirled and leaped in the February sunlight.

He peed on a couple of rocks.

He bit his sister on the bottom.

He even managed to get his own spit all over his face.

Then the Happy Dog turned into Psycho-Ewok-From-Hades (which is sort of like a Basilisk in its ability to cause death with a single glance).

The Weenie Dog, quaked and trembled atop her digger paws.

The girl quaked and trembled in her Birkenstocks.

The boy yawned, looked at his wrist watch and said he was hungry.

Then the Happy Dog used the facilities as the heavens above opened up and shone down on their chosen canine of goodness, gladness, sniffiness, and excellent Master Hunter skills.

And the Happy Dog looked out over his domain and

thought, “Idaho is a darn tootin fine place!”

And the humans were happy too and so was Weenie (even though she’s blurry in this photo).

And on the way home, they all stopped at the squirrel tree and laughed

out loud as five of the pests poured out of the squirrel hole and ran up the tree trunk.

And they all had burgers or kibble for dinner

and it was a good day.

________________

DEDICATED TO CY

BECAUSE HE LOVES FARLEY SO

Filed Under: dogs, farley and penelope, idaho, pocatello

Morning Has Broken

October 21, 2009 by The Noisy Plume

I woke up feeling like I’m a different person than I was yesterday.

I crossed the street and meandered up into the hills this morning. I was actually in search of a sunrise. With a perfectly blue Idaho sky I knew the sun would pierce the night with certainty and clarity.

I wanted to pierce the night in the same way, so I sought the sun, young in her nest, winging her way high.

And she did not disappoint.

Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning…

Up in that holy blaze with the mountains in the distance and the sage at my knees I did a bit of thinking, a bit of singing, some strolling, some smiling, some praying, some glad hearting…

…and still the sun came on strong.

It became tangled up at one point

until I reached down and set it free once more.

Smooth sailing in endless orbit again.

Oh sigh for the sun the wind the rain the earth the

even keel of the universe.

Keeping on.

Up in the hills, I’m part of something larger than my little plot of earth; my solitary prayers.

I’m untouchable when I’m part of the greater whole.

I’m under a wing.

I’m on the back of a bird that carries fire in its mouth.

I’m poured out on the earth in a sad stream.

I’m lifted up on the hands of the wind.

It’s all apparent.

My hurts and bruises fade to pale white and I find myself unscathed.

Healed.

I’ve been inoculated against the woes of this world.

Baptized in tree sap.

Washed in holy rain.

Broken down and raised up again fresher and finer than before.

Clean and glad and pink enough to have the frost of morning settle on my cheeks and hands.

Joyful enough to spot Talulah wagging her tailpipe at me, begging to be started up and warmed out of her chilly October nap.

Cozy enough to stroll in my front door and into the arms of the

best fellow I know.

It’s going to be a very good day.

The sun said so.

I’m going to make it so.

Love you,

JSL

Filed Under: hiking, hills, idaho, mountains, pocatello

Morning Ride

October 15, 2009 by The Noisy Plume

A coffee date this morning with Kate!

I was running late (as usual) and was tempted to take the car down to the University area but at the last minute I hopped on a bike instead and cruised on down the hill for a bit of caffeinated libation and conversation.

Whilst headed home, I considered hopping on this thing and winding up who knows where but I learned my lesson about riding trains the first time I heard RW’s train hopping story (he’s lucky to be alive and furthermore, lucky to be walking).

I took a good long squint at the Hotel Yellowstone, one of my favorite buildings in Old Town Pokey. It was then that I realized that I didn’t want to be done riding my bicycle around town for the day so I headed for one of my favorite places in town. The cemetery.

The first time I ever saw Idaho or Pocatello, for that matter, was when I rolled into it on the wheels of a Uhaul truck. The first sight to greet me in this fair little town was the cemetery. Cemeteries are such quiet places — everyone there is sleeping so hard they’re turning to dust beneath their marble and granite pillows. The trees in the Pocatello cemetery are maple and elm mingled with some ever green conifers. It’s quiet there.

So I grasp on, push the door open, and find the silence.

Trucks rumble past but I can’t seem to hear them.

I’m not even sure what I think about in this space but there’s rest for my mind here and quiet for my eyes. I go to the cemetery to look at the changing colors of fall, to tell the dead they aren’t forgotten, to recognize the fullness of my life. To listen to the grass grow and if the season is right, to hear the snow fall.

For being a place of the dead, there’s so much life here.

So much scope for the imagination.

And when I had enough I biked home, stopping only to sketch an idea by the river that flows through town.

I didn’t have the time to make the time for this today

but I ignored that fact and sucked a little marrow out of life instead (I had a sort of crummy day in the studio yesterday and it put me into a bit of an emotional tailspin…).

Sometimes it’s alright to push at the deadlines, to expand my immediate space and take a little time of my own and squander it how I will.

And now you know,

I sometimes hang out

in cemeteries.

See you tomorrow!

PLUME

Filed Under: cematery, idaho, pocatello

Wednesday’s Soup (not full of woe)

October 2, 2009 by The Noisy Plume

Well, as you know, RW came home from a fire on Wednesday, quite unexpectedly. We celebrated his return by taking Farley hunting in a beautiful area up in our mountains.

I love the first snow because no matter the date, or the plummeting temperatures, it always manages to catch everything off guard. We get caught with our pants down, figuratively speaking. We realize we should have picked those tomatoes, we should have canned a couple more pints of plums…we should have….we should have.

Even the wildflowers are guilty of wishful thinking.

“I should have sowed more of my seeds. One more bloom wouldn’t have hurt.”

The aspens are lanky beauties as always, with their heads in a continual rush towards blond this time of the year.

Some are embarrassed to still be green, with the onset of snow though it will only cap the mountain tops for a few days before melting away and flowing down the hillsides in creeks that will join rivers that will meet the sea.

All things seem to wear the first, fine dust of crystals like crowns. Royal when caught in their natural state. Kings and queens of the forest crunch underfoot as I carry myself over the hill crest into the spruces (so serious and quiet with their snow loads).

The deer, somewhere, behind that tree over there, raise their small black noses from the forage and wonder why I walk on two legs instead of four.

And a long line of ladies wave me on.

Farley, wet with effort and snow spray from low branches, turns his face into the wind to catch scent as it flings itself off a handful of paunchy ruffed grouse.

He steps forward, with sureness, locating the scent. His stubby tail is the only indicator of how hard his heart is beating with excitement. And then he locks up, his body tense, not a muscle moving. I lean into my steps and listen to the long draughts of air he sucks in through his nose, that scent must be delicious. He drinks it like a thirsty man. “Right there,” his body says. He’s waiting for Robert who will walk ahead, through the brush, flush the bird and shoot it from the sky. Farley will hold staunch until he is given the command to fetch.

And then he brings home the bacon.

And holds it in his mouth until we reach down and command him to drop it, still warm, into our hands.

RW inspects the harvest and pops it in his bag. Farley hears the words, “Get on.” And he takes to the forest like his heels wear wings, to do it all again. For the love of birds. For the love of us.

In the meanwhile, my feet and hands are very cold. My cheeks feel wind kissed because it’s blowing cold up in the mountains, out of the shelter of the valley. In the distance, the trees have faded into old age, and the meadows are white lace on the edge of sundown.

But even in all this white, there’s so much color to behold and my heart is bold with RW nearby. I hear him call out commands to our dog as I stop to inspect nature.

Before long, it’s time to drive down the mountains, to our warm little home and our toasty little dinner plans. We load the dog, hop in the cab, turn on the heat and coast down the hills into town.

We reach home and warm up with a fresh batch of potato soup, toasted homemade bread, lavender tea and a nip of port.

Cold Weather Potato Soup:

1 tbsp butter

1 cup celery, chopped

1 1/2 cups green onions (white part and 2 inches of green)

4 cups potatoes (peeled and diced)

1 cup carrot (chopped)

3/4 tsp dried thyme

1/4 tsp black pepper (I usually do a full tsp)

1 tsp dried dill

1/2 tsp salt (skip this if you aren’t using a low sodium chicken broth)

4 cups chicken or veggie broth (best if you make this yourself)

1 cup buttermilk

Melt butter in a large pot, add onions and celery. Cook and stir for 5 minutes or until veggies begin to soften. Add broth, potatoes, carrots, thyme, salt and pepper. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium low, cover and simmer for 20 minutes. Working in batches, transfer food to a blender and puree until smooth. Return to pot, stir in buttermilk and dill. Simmer for a few more minutes.

Serve with fresh baked bread or buttermilk biscuits. If you find the soup to be hothothot, cool it off with an extra drizzle of buttermilk.

Filed Under: farley and penelope, hunting, idaho, pocatello, recipe

Feeling Brisk

September 30, 2009 by The Noisy Plume

Only two things can make me smile like this:

I woke up to snow this morning. The west bench is glazed with the good stuff. Down valley, in Inkom, there’s a generous dusting to behold. These hills come alive with a little bit of white. Also, it’s doggone brisk outside. I’d say that today we are experiencing our first cold, fall winds in Pokey though the word cold doesn’t do the breeze justice. I tend to refer to the fall winds as freshly flung daggers of ice that penetrate wool, down and fur like they’re cutting through jello (I have a flair for the dramatic though…). If you live in my town or in my area of Idaho I know I’ll get an amen from you. One of my favorite things to witness, when the weather turns cold, is all the emo kids in their skin tight pants and greasy hair under dressed for the weather and walking down Main Street like freezing to death is cool. Even the Ramones wore coats and whilst they weren’t really emo, they DID wear extremely tight pants if you recall. Hey. Ho. Let’s go.

Holy crow! While preparing this blogpost, RW walked in the door!

I guess that’s the second thing that makes me smile like this (quick post revision).

What makes me smile even bigger are the following facts:

1. I had a terrifying fit of insomnia last night. Tonight I’ll sleep deep and I’ll feel totally safe.

2. The Snake River Hotshots are officially unavailable which means RW is almost done work which means I’ll have a family again very soon.

3. Hot tea and books in the living room tonight.

4. Farley will be ten times less neurotic since he’s going to get to hunt 7 days a week starting today.

5. Cooking for two is so much easier than cooking for one. No more pita chips and hummus for dinner!

Whew. I have to get out to the studio and do a bit of work now.

I hope you’re feeling the season change where you are!

Oh gosh. It’s blizzarding! What a welcome sight.

Skis, down parkas, mittens, rosie cheeks:

PLUME

PS Pardon the green yard. The snow isn’t sticking in town yet…

Filed Under: hotshots, idaho, pocatello, snow, weather