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So, officially, no more experiments. “I’ll steal you a radish” ????!!!!! Seriously, wtf, brain? I’m leaving town for a couple of days, for training that, funnily enough, my mother has already done.  She’s done all the trainings.  The training will take us to Kalispell. Stomping grounds. The Flathead Valley is my mothership.

It was College Weekend on the mountain. I hate college students. I’m sorry, I love you, but I hate you, with your lack of responsibilities and your hangover-proof bodies and your alarm clocks that are so easily snoozed. Ski well, jerkfaces.

Tonight I am also a glowbot because I booked a luxury caboose at the Izaak Walton Inn, midway between East and West Glaciers, for a couple of days in two weeks, without bebes.  Vacation-children+nightlit ski tracks=hell yes.  The man on the phone put it this way, “Because when you can stay in a train, you should, ya know?”.  Absolutely correct, inn man.  I have the normal money anxiety, but then I have to say, GODDAMIT WE EARNED IT. Which is true. Glacier National Park is our love ship.

Still listening to butter. So should you. I’m looking forward to sleeping in an entirely different woods from my most glorious creatures. Did a lot of sledding in the last 24 hours. Whoosh! Inspiring speed. Because when a two year-old asks if it is time to go swish, the answer better damn well be yes. I don’t think there’s been a better moment this week than that whoop at the bottom of the hill.

Thus comes the poem:

Lessons of a Northern Childhood

Come, be an army of makers. Make tracks and soup. Lie on your back in the snow and ease in the blue. Talk to the sirens, the hot flakes, and give a lip flirt back. Here’s the evidence of angels.

Listen to it calling in the morning, on the tin roof about a house made of wood, the snow


What’s more poetic than azure, in the winter? Nothing, really.

Sled while the sledding is good, is the first lesson. It could call the vow to increase the company of women in my life, because these are the ones who know the holy of sunglasses in the wintertime.

These pregnant cold banks are secret ministries.  Here is how long a minute takes: How long is a minute?

When you hold a minute, don’t be surprise by my hand reaching in. Soon it will be the time for March.


I’m excited about taking a class this week. I haven’t been in a class as a student in a long time, unless you count CPR or CPI. If I could take any class in the world, though, it would be Yoga On A Beach For Credit. What would you take? Happy Saturday!