This Wednesday, December 11th, I will be back in my old stomping grounds (I grew up in Corvallis) for a book event double-header, presented by the Calapooia Watershed Council, Greenbelt Land Trust, Ten Rivers Food Web, Bluebacks Chapter of Trout Unlimited and the Albany Public Library:
6:00-7:30pm Albany Public Library. I will read from and discuss Closer to the Ground with novelist John Larison, followed by question/answer session and book signing. Most likely topics of conversation: Foraging, conservation, kids in the outdoors, wild food, importance of place, etc. We’ll also have books for sale in case you need a copy or two for holiday gifts.
8:00pm-??:?? Cascadia Fly Shop. We’ll pack up in Albany and hightail it back to Corvallis for a more informal–and fish-centric–talk at the fly shop. I have some new, fishier writings to read and will talk about fishing, conservation and anything else anyone wants to discuss. Followed by book sales and signing. I also hear they have beer.
So…if you’re in the area, please come on out to one or both of the events. Good excuse to get out of the house after this long, chilly week, and you can knock off some items from your shopping list while you’re at it.
Or just come out to listen and talk. Either way, I’m looking forward to meeting you in person. Hope you are all well.
With frozen air still pouring down out of the Fraser Valley, things haven’t thawed here in almost a week. Hit 17 degrees last night (very low for our maritime climate), and looking to be even colder tonight. And outside, it looks like a gorgeous early summer morning–bright low-angled sun, blue skies…
We did have a light dusting of very fine snow yesterday afternoon, just enough to briefly raise the kids’ (and my) hopes for Snow Day fun, but it evaporated almost as fast as it fell. Funny how even as a grown up, I can feel the excitement rising whenever there’s even the slightest chance of snow.
Animals are busy trying to fuel up to keep warm. I watched kinglets working over the salal and salmonberries with unusual urgency, searching out the tiny bugs and spider eggs they eat. Love those birds. Especially how they hang upside down to peer under leaves. A couple deer spent the better part of the day in our yard, too, eating pretty much everything they could reach. And on that note, I think I better head into the house to fuel up myself…there’s a box of leftover Thai food calling my name. Stay warm everyone!
Just a quick reminder, I will be selling/signing books at the Charette Holiday pop-up store (130 Winslow Way) here on Bainbridge this Friday evening (5:00-7:00pm) for First Friday Art Walk. A great opportunity to pick up a signed/inscribed copy or 7 of Closer to the Ground. Did I mention it makes a great gift?
This little shop of cool gifts is curated by the fabulous Jil Smith, and she’ll be selling her gorgeous, handmade lampshades along with a host of other artists’ creations. Her work has been featured at the Seattle Art Museum gift shop and stylish homes, stores and restaurants throughout the West.
If you’re local and doing Art Walk, come on by and say hello. Or hop on the ferry and head for the Island–First Friday is a fun, lively evening. This commercial message is now over, and we return you to your regularly scheduled programming. Hope you are all well.
Icy north wind blowing tonight, supposed to drop down to the low 20s, and here I am pounding on the keyboard in my unheated office. Full puff gear, sherpa hat, fingerless gloves (almost as good for typing as they are for fishing) in effect. Still have to keep stopping to warm my hands in pockets or blow into ‘em like I’m throwing dice.
In the house, though, it’s toasty. Of course, I’m already concerned about the rate at which we’re tearing through the woodpile, but it sure feels good. Nothing like a good wood stove.
Keep warm, everyone.
We pushed through the prickly salmonberries and crouched on the mossy bank of a tiny, local stream. Skyla and Weston knelt at waters edge, watching. In front of them, lying in a nearly still pool, a female chum salmon held in the clear water. It seemed miraculous, this big, ocean fish in a stream that seemed too small to hold even trout. And that she’d made it here, deep in the woods, having survived all the perils of the open sea. And now, she’d made her way back to spawn where she was born.
We crouched there for a long time, just watching, until finally, the salmon summoned her strength and pushed upstream leaving a trail of silt in her wake. We felt lucky to have seen her.
A small thing, really, but I’m thankful for it. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!