A recipe:

Shred one or two beets (any kind, or a mix) into a bowl. Squeeze in some fresh lemon juice, add some olive oil and salt and pepper. Maybe add some feta cheese if you want to un-veganize it. Mix it all up and eat it.

That’s a good salad!

Unrelated: I got a job. Hooray! More on that later when I’m not overwhelmed and tired. Like June, maybe.

One thing I really like to do on road trips is take pictures of the scenery outside the passenger window. (Conversely, one thing Larson likes to do is take pictures of me dozing.) Since our honeymoon was a three week road trip across the United States, you can imagine how many photographs we have of rolling hills/ lush meadows/ lonely gas stations/ abandoned train cars.

This image was taken on the last day of our trip, somewhere west of Driggs, Idaho and east of Reno, Nevada. It looks so very Western, and I remember being thrilled that we were drawing in on home.

And one mountain pass, a 2:00 am visit to a gas station, and a rainstorm later, we were.

From our pumpkin patch:

They’re volunteers, like the sunflowers. I’m thinking next year we won’t plant anything and will just let the garden do what it wants to do.

So here’s my fun idea: every Friday I’ll randomly select one digital photograph and tell you its story. Let us begin:

Every summer since we’ve been together (except the last two), Larson and I and his parents head up to Carson Pass in the Western Sierra. We usually stay at Kit Carson Lodge on Silver Lake and spend a week or so hiking, fishing, reading, and generally living the good life*. One of the loveliest aspects of our stay, usually in late July or early August, is that it’s wildflower season and the mountains and valleys are filled with Indian Paintbrush, Columbine, Mountain Larkspur, and all sorts of other flora.

There is one hike in particular, to Round Top Lake, that passes through a huge meadow of wildflowers. It was on this hike that Larson asked me to marry him, and it is this hike that I hope to take Calvin on as soon as he’s old enough. And every time we’re there, I plan to tell him the story of when his father proposed to his mother and bore/embarrass him. Every summer. Oh, I can’t wait.

This is that place.

*We love this place so much that during birthing exercises this was our “special place” that we would visualize to bring us to a place of calm, peaceful joy. During labor, when I was pretty near transition (look it up, or don’t if you want to stay calm and peaceful), Larson asked, “Do you want to think about Silver Lake?” And I, neither calm nor peaceful, said (screamed?) “NO.”

Happy birthday Larson.