all the favorite places

Still my favorite stretch of ditch trail -- about a quarter of a mile from home, and right before "the pipes" (old cattle guard).



Thursday: Hiking in the big backyard, up the old logging trail.



Friday: Black lake, Rainy Lake, and, after a hike, North Lake. We found tons of huckleberries -- I was glad I didn't miss the season. And got home so late we ended up eating down the highway at the Sawtooth Roadhouse. Aptly named, as it's near an old mill.

Saturday: Rendezvoused with the Elams up at Lost Lake! Megan and I managed to go swimming. We persuaded Mum to play a round of Cranium with us, and we realized how hard it is to guess humdingers (even when Megan did a pretty accurate rendition of Brick House). On our team, we somehow correctly fielded a question about George Washington Carver (peanuts! cotton!) and Eames originals (furniture!). Patrick taught us how to make s'mores even BETTER by pre-melting chocolate over the fire. Nothing like catching up with friends around a campfire.



Today: Went hiking with Mum up Lookout Mountain. At the top, we ran into a couple with this AMAZING dog. He was everything that could make me break down and become a dog person: white fluffiness with tan spots, floppy ears, huggable, not too big, not smelly, not drooly, way friendly, and did I mention the FURRINESS. Unfortunately he was a mutt, so we have no idea how to find another quite like him.

Before heading back down the highway, we checked out Teacup Lake (really: scuzzy pond) to scope out the huckleberry situation. Which wasn't happening -- we found ourselves trampling through brush to get one or two elusive, tiny berries. Huckleberries, my friends, are TINY. And it sucks when someone beats you to the picking grounds. But you know what WAS happening at the scuzzy pond at dusk? MOSQUITOES. I have a long standing hatred of mosquitoes. Not just the usual, yeah, they're ick. But truly, hatred. I think because, having dermographism, my skin freaks out whenever it's scratched, and gets even ITCHIER, and then mosquito bites go from irritation to CAN I JUST SCRATCH MY SKIN OFF HERE WHERE IT ITCHES?! I think that experience kind of gives you hatred, which you direct to the obvious culprit, MOSQUITOES. So I doused myself in some DEET lotion that Mer left in her room (sorry Mer, I'm borrowing it, I promise not to use it up, and I'll give you my zebra striped dress next week). Somehow, despite wearing jeans, a hoodie, and high concentration bug repellent, THE MOSQUITOES STILL FOLLOWED ME. I think I killed more mosquitoes than I picked huckleberries.

Luckily, dinner was waiting for us at home. Buffalo roast! Truly, roast beast. I love it: it's like getting to eat beef again, only not. And I made biscuits and Mom coached me through making gravy.

Somehow all my posts end up being about food.