Happy Spring! It's trying very, very hard to be, anyway. Just like deciding when to take off your snow tires, gambling on when to put away the winter boots and long underwear is something of a crap shoot. There may be two inches of snow on the ground for the drive to work, only to end up 60 degrees and sunny by the end of the day. Between the tempestuous mood swings and working in a sauna (also known as a greenhouse), I've learned to dress in layers. Lots and lots of layers.
The warm, moist environment of the greenhouse may be enough to cause humans to wilt but all things green are loving it. The peas are getting taller every day, and we've already harvested savory spinach, leafy lettuce, succulent baby kale, spicy arugula, and crisp radishes. Next week we may even plant some things outside. Yes, I get excited about simple things like this. But it's pretty good going to work with my dogs, listening to sand hill cranes and water fowl across the fields, and getting my hands dirty with green growing goodness.
When I'm not playing in the dirt I've started running again. We celebrated St. Patrick's Day up in Bozeman, me running a 10k in a teeny tiny track suit, and Carl drinking beer with the dogs. Behind every athlete there is a stellar support team.
In other news, I had a birthday. The big three-oh, three whole decades on this earth. Despite the gray hairs and stories, I still can't believe I've been around that long. To celebrate, I added to my collection of tattoos. This design is based on a compass from a journal written by my great-grandpa in, about a sailing trip he took in 1937 from Seattle up to Vancouver Island, retracing one of Captain Cook's voyages. The tattoo artist cleaned it up and added a bit of his own style before applying it to my upper back. Afterwards Carl took me out to a delicious dinner to forget about the pain and celebrate another revolution around the sun. It's been a fantastic trip, and I can't wait to see what comes next.
