my third summer in roseville:

a truce. 

sunflower drive-in in old fair oaks, classic vegetarian fare. 

nut burger...OHMG. oh dear, i wolfed my down.

kari and me. she is the mistress of holistic systems and unity, our boys are playing at the park. sigh, it's so good to meet like minded-people with small children. another new friend just came home from and introduced me to the women's herbal symposium, a subject which i've recently seen jumping around some blogs i enjoy reading. too fun. i'm going in september and i am so excited.

north fork american river, near codfish falls.

we came at sundown, on these long golden days. we'll be back in the heat to refresh ourselves in this alluring water.

i could drink you all up.

hit up the farmers market, and you got yourselves a stew, baby. ;) purple potatoes, yellow and green squash, tomatoes and shallots, rice noodles. yuuuuum.

contentment,

i recognize it. tears come

as i round the corner

down my street

the crickets are singing their 

purple 

evening 

song

(once upon a time i ran wildly through the front door,

searching for this song

so desperate.) 

keeping tabs on the local elderberries, which are quite prolific in my town. (wow, how far i've come..."my town"?? the presence of ripe elderberries does that to a girl.)

true story: initially i was getting some hesitant vibes from a tree i was gathering from. i listened a little deeper; it turns out the tree wanted to hang on the berries a little longer to ripen them, so i came back a few days later and she gave freely, and i was full of thanksgiving. (feeling really shy writing that. :o  )

the hedges of jasmine yearning

their final yearns 

with that heady

scent,

soon to be

brown.

the roses

wag their ruffled

exquisite

heads

of orange

fucsia

magenta,

lining the sidewalk,

our

cool walkway.

my best friend, the chicory flower.

lighting up empty lots and the sides of roads. when my dad built his house he scattered the seeds of chicory and queen anne's lace...i remember getting outside early to see the blue flowers before they disappeared in the heat.

take a break for these wild artichokes, electric purple giant thistles.

i live in this place,

when i enter the subdivision

it's like removing myself

from earth, (all native things plowed over and away.)

like walking on to some

scientist-crafted mothership:

here, life is pre-constructed!

see: the proximity to food,

educational centers,

recreational play structures!

we take your trash away!

"you mean they cleared a whole potato field for two hundred houses, all the same, just maybe a different color here or there?" "yes, enough for two hundred families but there's 700 families on the waiting list!" "who could ever want to live in such a place?"

last summer i made a chicory flower essence without really attuning myself to the flower, i was hasty.  it did not go so well, lesson learned. 

easy like a summer morning.

i was afraid, i think.

afraid that in time i wouldn't be me---
so afraid that i would shrivel up and die,
somehow.
and become complacent,
stuck in some 
trivial
soul sucking
consumer
vacuous 
rut.

like randle patrick mcmurphy getting a lobotomy.

coffee berry matching it's name.

be jubilant, my feet. 

little teddy wades across. he has a loose tooth...this is one of those parenting milestones that i've been looking forward to. i have a genuine kid. 

walk along dry creek: screaming cicadas, golden heat, the low whistle of a freight train. it feels like i've always been here; like i've never been away, like this has always been home, nothing else. timeless. this creek is so dear to me, running through the heart of old town roseville. i dream of finding a 100 year old little house for sale in this area, subdivision exodus... it's around 3 miles from my house, a quick bike ride away, and my surest refuge.

anyone going to the kate wolf memorial music festival? i realllly want to try and go with my kids.

i guess i just didn't know enough about who i really was.

i have become so strong:


i have never been truer to

the wonder
of my true self.

even more wild and beautiful because of this contrast.

my favorite color. it's like singing.

i used to think that the open spaces between housing lots were just spaces they didn't build on. i didn't recognize the wild land for what it was: a prairie full of life. this is what wilderness looks like here.

and suburbia?

the pits.
it deserves every single criticism.
(an unholy desert dedicated to the gaping maw of convenience, an artless land devoid of creative expression.)


but 
i have a house filled
with
pure
love.

a bike that flies down the sidewalk.

i planted two more fruit trees in the lawn, soon it will be a little orchard.

blue vervain

and roseville?

she's a pretty cool cat
once you know well enough
to look behind
the mall
and parking
lots.

she settled out small, like any other town, with a thriving unique heart and purpose.

a train yard connecting the tracks that reach the sierra summits, an auction market, fruit growers.

a community of musicians and artists

and laborers.

every place starts with a small dynamic core
that sort of spirals and whorls out,
subdivisions at the edges
to house the masses
as the town grows.

some parts of roseville feel so destitute, gritty, and real
that i can't help but feel so vulnerable when there.

wild dill. a cowboy.

the best little helper.

losing elderberries on our score thrifted turkish rug.

simmering away. the finished product (not pictured, for reals?) is in a pint jar in the fridge, lovely as a garnet.

 little sidekick:

coloring.

here, mommy, i'll put the crayons away.

home life.

my little skipper rode 8 miles without a complaint.

a basket full of musky mugwort.

loves the shopping cart at the library. this kid is one pint sized party. i can't help but laugh from joy being around him. every thing he does cracks my mother heart with his cuteness.

this little cutie had knee surgery, he's been real brave, doing more than he probably should. he's just waking up in this pic.

double the naps. he took a week off of work and it's been fun having him around. there's been a lot of loafing to catch up on. we totally would've rocked some awesome video games (beautiful katamari anyone?) but it turns out -someone- shoved something into the console...  

the last celery (and biggest?) of the season. poor baby.

 it's funny the way things work out. ty and i talk about moving a lot, getting a teeny bit of land for goats and gardens, and we're saving..... i want to stay in this area. i love the yellow prairies and the green winters and the view of the blue sierras from the hot valley and the endless green fingers of winding creeks.



and so, ahem, a truce. :)

flower eater.

i can feel the solstice coming, and i want to do something totally appropriate for the occasion.

i'm curious to know what others will do!


xoxo

ps: teddy is going to school! (it's been a long road making this decision, and while i 100% subscribe to every tenet of home schooling, we learned in the last year that there are some major personality differences, resulting in a painful abundance of frustration.) i'm really excited for him, so far it seems like a tree-house dream school.