Our wee cabin in the woods
That is our landlords' place down the hill. So you can see how their proximity affords me weimaraner visiting privileges. I'm not sure why it looks slanted. Our house is level. Huh.
Peeked outside the window one morning to check the weather and saw this!
She proceeded to help herself to the garden.
That is a picnic table of ordinary height. Can you imagine sitting there? The moose's belly would be at your head.
And then munch on some trees.
The doorway to the shed is orinary size. GAH! Giant moose!
A moose is a moose, with a big caboose,
Your friend that rhymes like Dr. Seuss
and no one can talk to a moose, that's loose.
That is, you goose, unless the moose, lives in your neighborhood!
Will send you out to ask the moose
Who'll give you the answer that's not abstruse.
So don't be obtuse, (and don't spill your juice),
Go on and talk to Madamoiselle Moose!
Bunn on his shelf. Whatta jerky expression for a jerky guy. He annoys Millie and attacks me. Can we get him deballed, again?
I bought Millie an area rug this week.
She apparently still hasn't gotten used to hard floors; the humane society said she had grown up a hutch rabbit. Unlike Bunn, who grew up indoors with both carpet and hardwood. Making him an ingrown hare. Hahahahaha!! A-hem, anyway. Millie loves her carpet! She binkied as soon as she got on it, and now she hops around and flops on it! Haven't seen her do the Bunny 500 yet, but Bunn has, on the hardwood floor... he then slammed into the cabinet. Poor guy!
This is Rae.
She comes to visit sometimes. Her sister, Simone, who is a bit more frail, does less often.
I pun at her, poor girl. "Well hello Rae! Feeling blue? Why the long face?"
Here is some of the local produce from the farmer's market.
Available only in Summer, unfortunately. This has been a bad year, weather-wise (cool and rainy, which is unusual for Fairbanks, which is usually warm and dry in the Summer), but we still have all these lovely things! Check out them tiny apples!
I've never seen a sky so blue...
... as it is here in Alaska. It reminds me of the (rather breathtaking, in my opinion) dictionary definition of blue--"the pure color of a clear sky." Whoda thunk that ol' Webster was capable of such poetry? He must have been to Alaska.
There are lots of mushrooms around here.
I saw a nature program once in which a bear ate some psychedelic 'shrooms and staggered around for a few hours. I wonder if that really happens, or it was dramatized.
Photos from the drive up.
Return to Main Page