Ullr

Ullr Fest happened a couple weeks ago. We had a float in the parade. It involved a drunk W with a "Will Work For Food Sign," a greedy Saudi (Jason looked quite a bit like Jesus, I must say), some American slaves, and a veggie bus. I'll leave out the more sordid details.

It was a little offensive, but I have to say, we had a great response, namely a million snowballs aimed directly at our former president and the Saudi.

Mom and Jack are Oldie-McMoldies...

Mom celebrated her 60th and Jack turned 50. This was the cake some of their clients got them. It was really funny. My mom looks like Vanna White. Jack looks like some German dude named Hans. Or Friedrich.

Perfect music

I love Bon Iver. And DeYarmond Edison. And anything that Justin Vernon has ever done. Why can't I write just one amazing song, let alone many?

Sprouts, strawberries, and skis

Over the past few months, we’ve been having a lot of talks here in the office about one conundrum of living here in the high country--we’re absolutely in love with our mountain environment, but we crave that most simple and ever-elusive delicacy: the fresh, homegrown vegetable.

Local food is a hot topic in many areas of the country, including here in Summit County. And while we may have rich opportunities for hunting and fishing, our fruit and veggie options fall somewhere between “extremely limited” and “non-existent.”

On our office Dream List, we have several dreams that involve growing, eating, and learning about local food options. One of my recurring daydreams involves a community built, state-of-the-art greenhouse, with its very own Community Supported Agriculture group, where families and friends can share a plot and eat carrots together in the middle of winter.

Maybe it’s just my food-addled brain, but since we started talking about it here at the Conservation Center, I seem to find local foodies everywhere I turn. I never realized how many people imagine fresh broccoli while they’re skiing, or see Buffalo Mountain as a gigantic fresh strawberry as they head to the summit. Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but we really do love nature in all its forms here in Summit County, and food is a pretty integral missing piece.

It was great to see the article about Silvana’s Community Gardens last week in the Summit Daily News. Apparently, other people have daydreams too! Conveniently enough, we’ve also just set up our summer workshop schedule and we decided this year to focus on local food, including workshops on home brewing, canning and preserving, and local farms and markets.

Are you interested in learning more about growing veggies here in the mountains? Do you wonder how much impact your diet has on the planet? Would it bring a smile to your face to have our wonderful restaurants here in Summit serve food grown in our own backyard? If you answered yes to any of these, we’re looking for you to be a part of the brand new local food group of the High Country Conservation Center.

This group will provide space for people to contribute thoughts, ideas, and expertise about high country growing, as well as look into possible options for local food production in the future (greenhouse, anyone?) If you’re interested, send thoughts, comments, or ideas to: food@highcountryconservation.org, or call the office at 668-5703. We look forward to hearing from you!

The "radical" lyrics

Thankful that Woody Guthrie wrote it, and that Pete Seeger sang it, all the way through, in front of the world.

This Land Is Your Land

This land is your land This land is my land
From California to the New York island;
From the red wood forest to the Gulf Stream waters
This land was made for you and Me.

As I was walking that ribbon of highway,
I saw above me that endless skyway:
I saw below me that golden valley:
This land was made for you and me.

I've roamed and rambled and I followed my footsteps
To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts;
And all around me a voice was sounding:
This land was made for you and me.

When the sun came shining, and I was strolling,
And the wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling,
As the fog was lifting a voice was chanting:
This land was made for you and me.

As I went walking I saw a sign there
And on the sign it said "No Trespassing."
But on the other side it didn't say nothing,
That side was made for you and me.

In the shadow of the steeple I saw my people,
By the relief office I seen my people;
As they stood there hungry, I stood there asking
Is this land made for you and me?

Nobody living can ever stop me,
As I go walking that freedom highway;
Nobody living can ever make me turn back
This land was made for you and me.

The season

My horoscope says this about this year:
"What lies before you is a glorious year of good fortune. You will have good health, support from VIPs, a real shot at finding true love if you're single, and an opportunity to grasp your dream goal. We only get approximately seven of these magnificent years in a lifetime, and 2009 will be one of those shining years for you."

That bodes well, I must say, but it hasn't really started that way. A couple weeks ago, I threw my back out, and it's still tweaked enough that I can't ski. Heather+no skiing=grumpiness personified. Then I got a sinus infection. Then January came and I had to pay every bill I owe at once, plus the doctor's bills from the back (I will say I love my ob/gyn, who plied me with Vicodin and kept me from becoming permanently stuck in my bed). Now, I'm looking for a house in the middle of winter, afraid to leave my room for fear of coming remotely near my roommate, and about to have a dentist dig around in my face to fix my jaw (what is the term for a fear of dentists? I am whatever that is).

Still, I stay hopeful, because if the horoscope says it, then dammit, it must be true. :)

My new little step-sister

Gabrielle Jo Rodman, born 12/28/2008. Almost exactly 29 years after me. I should note that I made that hat, and as far as I know, it's the only one I ever finished. Yes, I have the attention span of a flea. But it is really cute on her...