Well in was way back in 1996. I was living in a 4 bedroom house in North London with 16 other people. We had Italians, French and a few feisty Japanese flatmates. Mr Woog and myself were the only Aussies and it could be safely said we were having trouble dealing with the cold. Everyone was stony cold broke, and stone cold. None of the heating worked.

I had a nasty polar fleece blanket - purple if I remember correctly. One evening I was on the couch under it watching Eastenders, when a small ember dropped from my fag and quickly set the blanket alight. Mr Woog poured his can of Tennent Lager on me to douse the flames while I screamed and squealed.

A short time later, after we found out the fire alarms were there just for show and we actually did live in a death trap, I was able to demonstrate to the multicultural household the benefits of having a blanket with a hole in it. I cut another hole in it and VOILA! The Snuggie was born!!

So I heard from Dr Scott McQuate.......

That's neat!

Now, for the rest of the story...

Sometime around 1990, when I finished my undergrad at Asbury College (Asbury University now), I had an idea for a long, warm blanket with sleeves. I was an avid reader and got tired of having to take my hand out from under the blanket to turn the page. (It was hard enough to hold the book!) I was going to call it, naturally...The Book Blanket.

I drew the plans on a sketch pad and presented it to my grandmother with high hopes of enlisting her help to create one that I could present as a prototype. Within one week she had one sewn together. She had used an old yellow-ish blanket and two sleeves from one of my grandpa's thermal underwear tops. It was not 'identical' to my drawing, which was a more flowing, less confining pattern, but grandma had captured the basic idea (and it was free, so I wasn't complaining).

I went down to Columbus, OH to do some patent research, fully intending to patent my new invention. I entered Seminary soon thereafter, stayed to get my Doctorate, and just put the 'Book Blanket' on the back burner. I wish I had followed through, providing page-turning freedom to book lovers everywhere, but I'm glad someone was able to bring it to market to emancipate and warm the cuddled masses. It's obviously been a 'hit'! - Dr. Scott McQuate


Thank you Dr. McQuate! But I both think we know where we are going with this. The Civil Law Legal System.

Mrs Woog's Bio

I can be found in the laundry, folding laundry, sorting laundry and dropping off the dry cleaning. I am mum to two boys, boss of my husband and master of a cat and two guinea pigs. I love to laugh and enjoy a social tipple. Come nightfall, I am a professional channel surfer dedicated to yelling at the screen during the news. During my waking hours I ferry kids around in the car while drinking takeaway coffees.

I think about going to the gym every day.


Dr Scott McQuade's Bio

With Financial crises, food shortages, political upheaval, geophysical changes, social uneasiness and generalized uncertainty staring every citizen of the world in the face, more people than ever are asking the question, where is the United States, even the world headed and what, if any, are the solutions? Scott McQuate, MSP, the author of Blueprint for Bondage, is a voice to speak to those issues in our time.

Applying his knowledge of the scriptures and ancient historical texts to find answers to these and many other relevant questions, he has relayed this controversial, but much-needed message to the world.

McQuate has always known that the truth of the creator, found in the Bible and elsewhere, has guided him on his journey. He has accepted, with open arms, his call to disseminate the truth found within the pages of these and other ancient writings. His message is one of wakefulness and urgency for the preparation of the 'hearers' for their safety, temporally, here on earth and eternally. Unfortunately, most are asleep in Babylon (Isa. 29:10).

It is his sincere hope that his readers who have ears to hear will choose to join him on this journey, spreading the truth to break through the deceptive darkness of lies that have kept the world in bondage for too long. It is time to receive the true blessings that belong to us.

Mr. McQuate grew up in Shiloh, Ohio. He graduated from Mansfield Christian High School and has attended Mount Vernon Nazarene University as well as Ashland Theological Seminary. He received his Bachelor's Degree in Psychology from Asbury College and his Master's Degree in Scriptural Psychology from Midwest Theological Seminary. He has worked as a Licensed Social Worker on Death Row and various Mental Health Facilities, as well as a Financial Consultant. He is the owner of Paxeon, LLC, a Financial Services company focused on sound financial preparedness and rapid debt elimination. (His average client saves $200,000 and pays off their mortgage in as little as 3 years...ALL without raising their payment or refinancing; and they don't even pay for the program out of pocket.) He also owns Paxeon Mobile, a wireless company offering discounted, unlimited wireless plans on the Nations best networks.

So dear reader, taking into account everything you have read, comparing stories and considering our backgrounds, who do you believe invented the Baby Snuggie?

Mon - Noon: 6 miles (1,300') easy. Horsetooth - Wathen - Spring Creek - Soderberg. Some tree carnage on Wathen from the strong winds. Nice cruise.
PM: 4.5 miles (700') easy. Falls loop.

Tues - Noon 4.5 miles (700') easy. Falls loop.
PM: 8.5 miles track. 4 x 1 mile on lap rest: 5:30, 5:29, 5:23, 5:24. 1 mile w-u, 2.5 mile c-d. Wind had mainly died down by the time we got started which made things a little more relaxed than I was expecting. Great group of like-paced guys for this one: Dakota Jones, Chris Aronson, Frank Antonelli and David Rubush. We had planned on 5:30s and pretty much nailed them as a pack the whole way. First two were very smooth, although a little hot through the first 800 on the first interval (2:35/36). Dakota picked up the third lap on the third interval and pulled the group through an up-tempo second 800, and the final interval was evenly paced with a faster last quarter. Really starting to enjoy the faster work, and mildly encouraged with the apparent progress.

Weds - 8 miles (1,600') easy. Falls - Spring Creek - Stout - Sawmill - Loggers - Herrington, Spring Creek, Soderberg - home. Stopped halfway around for a lengthy chat with John Binder who was out with a crew doing some trail maintenance on Stout between Towers and Loggers. He's been running the Horsetooth trails ever since the county bought the land from the Soderberg family in 1982. Most of the trails currently in existence are old Soderberg logging trails, as they logged it pretty heavily when they owned it, milling the lumber up on top of Mill Creek. Great to get some history from a guy who is just as passionate about the trails and land up on Horsetooth as I am. Apparently there is a whole crew of 'old timers' down in the valley neighborhoods who run the trails from Soderberg, although not at lunchtime because I never see them. John was delighted to hear about the burgeoning FoCo trail running community, and was highly congratulatory of my last year of running, which apparently he was well aware of - ah, celebrity at last. Almost didn't run because of the heavy wind - glad I did.

Thurs - AM: 9.5 miles (1,800'). Ran down to Soderberg to meet Pete, Victoria and two of her friends for an early morning jaunt up Towers. Got up at 5:00am after a late night so felt like I was in a dream for most of the run, but the orange hues from the sunrise to the east made up for the general unpleasantness of running while half asleep. A steady 36:20 up the hill and an easy jog back down. Grabbed a ride home from Pete.

PM: 6.5 miles easy @ Pineridge with the mötley FCTR crüe. Beers, good conversation and food afterward.

Friday - 6 miles easy (500'). Valley trails.

Saturday - 22 miles (7,200'). Basic Boulder Mountain Marathon.

Sunday - AM: 3 miles easy with Don and Alex as a warm down after their 5k races at the Spooktacular. Alistair also raced in the kids' sprint. Back to Alex and Ean's afterward for food, coffee and good times.
PM: 8 miles (1,600') easy. Falls - Spring Creek - Stout - Sawmill - Loggers - Herrington, Spring Creek, Soderberg - home.

-----------------------------------------------
Jan: 252 miles (33,700')
Feb: 189 miles (33,500')
March: 488 miles (70,000')
April: 482.5 miles (72,700')
May: 439 miles (79,500')
June: 334 miles (49,000')
July: 279.5 miles (64,400')
August: 302.5 miles (50,100')
September: 237.5 miles (53,200')
October: 301.5 miles (44,600')

2010: 3,305 miles (550,700')
Avg: 330.5 miles (55,070')
-----------------------------------------------

Total: 86.5 miles (15,400')

Looks like I'll be running New Orleans as the goal marathon in February, so that's where the bulk of the next three months of running will be focused. With that in mind, this week was exactly the kind of week I need to be avoiding. Running up mountains is fun, but not great for building speed or, more importantly, recovering from hard workouts to get ready for upcoming workouts. I think moderate hill days on the trails are fine as easy runs, because really it's more about being outside than it is about 'training,' but big multi-thousand vert days need to be kept to a minimum as they tend to take a chunk out of you, especially if you're not conditioned for them, which I'm really not right now. So discipline is the key here. We'll see how that goes.

Good mile repeat workout at the track on Tuesday with a bunch of guys who are all within range of each other pace-wise, so hopefully we can keep that going through the fall/winter. Seemed to push out the 5:30s with relative ease, which is definitely a good sign.

Signed up for a half marathon on Saturday. I'm figuring that if I can go 1:17 or better there, then I should be able to whip myself into the kind of shape that I want to be in for February.

Towers handicapped time trial this Thursday at 6:00pm from the Soderberg trailhead. As always, anyone and everyone is welcome and encouraged to come out and put the hurt on the hill. Sunday is the Fort Collins Running Club's Tortoise & Hare 5k from Warren Park, and once again all are welcome and encouraged to run.

You see XO, (you remember XO the guinea pig) recently joined Mr Woog on the wonderful ride that is fatherhood. So now they can both bitch about it together, one in regular English, the other in G-Pig Squeak. And because they are both dad's to males, it means one more creature in our house can be bored to bits by the book Raising Boys by Steve Biddulph.

When it came to naming this new son, I thought that everyone should have their say. We all chose a name for consideration. I chose The Situation, Jack chose Taggie, Harry chose Fooey Fooey Moi Moi and Mr Woog went with............... Matthew.

So cutting short a long story and a mild to moderate fight, we are thrilled to announce the arrival of Fooey Fooey Moi Moi Woog.

[Image: Photo courtesy of Andrea Tintori and Discovery News].

I love this story: the polished rock walls of a Catholic church in northern Italy have been found to contain the skull of a dinosaur. "The rock contains what appears to be a horizontal section of a dinosaur’s skull," paleontologist Andrea Tintori explained to Discovery News. "The image looks like a CT scan, and clearly shows the cranium, the nasal cavities, and numerous teeth.”

The skull itself was hewn in two; "indeed," we read, "Tintori found a second section of the same skull in another slab nearby."

[Image: Photo courtesy of Andrea Tintori and Discovery News].

The rock itself—called Broccatello—comes from a fossil-rich quarry in southern Switzerland and dates back to the Jurassic. According to the book Fossil Crinoids, "The Broccatello (from brocade) was given its name by stone masons; this flaming, multicoloured 'marble' has been used in countless Italian and Swiss baroque and rococo churches"—implying, of course, that other fossil finds are waiting to be found in Alpine baroque churches. "In the quarries of Arzo, southern Switzerland," the book continues, "crinoids [the fossilized bodies of ancient marine organisms] account for up to half of the bulk of the Broccatello, which is usually a few metres thick."

In any case, to figure out exactly what kind of dinosaur it is, the rock slab might be removed from the church altogether for 3D imaging in a lab; a new piece of Broccatello rock, mined from southern Switzerland, could be use as its replacement.

The larger idea of discovering something historically new and even terrestrially unexpected in the rocks of a city, or in the walls of the buildings around you—as if the most important fossil site in current geology might someday be the rock walls of a ruined castle and not a cliff face or gorge—brings to mind recent books like Richard Fortey's fantastic Earth: An Intimate History, with its geological introduction to sites like Central Park, Stories in Stone: Travels Through Urban Geology, and the Geologic City Reports (Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6) by Friends of the Pleistocene. These latter research files present New York City through the lens of its lumpen underpinnings, focusing on bedrock, mineral veins, and salt, not the city's cultural districts or ethnic history.

But, of course, the H.P. Lovecraftian overtones of this story—a monstrous skull in a church wall—are too obvious not to mention: an easy scenario for imagining whole plots and storylines in which the ancient forms of an unknown species are discovered hidden in cathedral masonry, opening previously unimagined horizons of time and radically revising theories of the history of life on earth.

I just absolutely love the idea that a piece of architecture can become a site for paleontological research, framing an unlikely forensic study of the earth's biological past.

Tre.

I am always behind! I have many more Halloween sets to post, but life got in the way, so, for now this is the best that I can do. I made these for a Halloween birthday. I guess they qualify as monsters, except I don't even know what to say about the little red guy, LOL. My friends and I don't know WHAT he's about...=)

Bild; snodd från nätet

There have recently been some major changes in my life which will mean major changes for this blog, hopefully! I am not quite sure what the plan is yet, but I am working on one =) In the meantime, HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE!

While there wasn't any racing going on, there was certainly some good conversation, plentiful killer peaks, and expansive mountain views. I'm still not sold on the Boulder trails, but I guess they were okay too.

In addition to a slew of cheery Boulder Trail Runners, the group this morning included Scott Jurek (in a vintage WS half-cut top), Geoff Roes, Tony Krupicka, Dave Mackey, Joe Grant, Dakota Jones, Jeff Valliere, Darcy Africa, and Helen Cospolich. Off the top of my head, that list is good for 8 Western States wins, 5 Wasatch wins, 3 Leadville wins, 2 Badwater wins, 1 Hardrock win, 1 Grand Canyon Rim to Rim to Rim fastest known time, 1 American 24 hour record plus a ton of other ultra wins and course records. Not your average group run then.

The proceedings started from Phil's house a few blocks east of Chautauqua with a very mellow trip up Flagstaff, before heading to Green for a short repose on top to soak in the awesome views on what was warming up to be a fantastically beautiful morning. From there it was down Green-Bear to the end of Mesa (I think) to some historic-looking stone building that marked the turn back west for the climb up Shadow Canyon to South Boulder Peak.

As with most ascents up the front side of the Boulder peaks, Shadow is a steep, steep bruiser. However, the South Boulder summit was a worthy reward. With not a lick of wind in the air and a warm sun, the group - which at this point included Tony, Dave, Geoff, Joe, Scott, Johannes Rudolph, Dakota, Ryan Cooper and a couple of others whose names I didn't catch - lingered on South Boulder Peak for quite some time.

Once we got moving again, it was just a short bop down and up to Bear Peak, before the decision was made to round out the morning with a second summit of Green. I was a bit wobbly coming down the front of Green, so I let Tony, Dakota and Joe take off, content to close out the morning with an easy descent in company with Johannes. As always in Boulder, the vert racked up ridiculously quickly, with something over 7,000 feet of vertical gained in not much more than 20 miles.

From Gregory, it was back to Phil's for a fantastic luncheon spread, that would put most post-race food efforts to shame, and a couple of beers before heading back north to FoCo with Pete, Ross and Frank. Good times.

It's that time of the year again and I was so pleased with the Blog I wrote about this subject last year - which barely flickered on any reader's Blog-Interest-O-Meter that I am running it again.

One of the best things about being in Vienna is NOT being in Australia for the Melbourne Cup.

For those of you who may not be aware of the Melbourne Cup – it is a horse race. 

Horse racing is an Australian media-driven obsession – to the extent that some years ago a horse trainer won an Australian “Sportsman of the Year” Award. 

The Melbourne Cup is a horse race which the media has turned into a ghastly, frothing, dribbling extravaganza of gruesome schlock which starts weeks before the event and culminates in an orgy of gambling, alcohol and offensive displays which on a normal day would merit public floggings or prison sentences.

On race day there are live broadcasts ALL DAY by TV and Radio from the racecourse. 

There are Melbourne Cup lunches at which people get dressed up like drug crazed pimps and where they drink alcohol until they fall unconscious head first into their Pavlovas.

Women at the race get dressed up in funny clothes and hats. Poor tortured tarts with gigantic heels, grotesque hats and tits everywhere totter around the grounds and the bars displaying hats that look like they were designed by Edvard Munch on his second bottle of Absinthe. 

People get blind staggering drunk all over Australia and especially at the racecourse and make complete asses of themselves on TV. People queue for hours to bet on horses. There are obligatory office sweeps where you choose a horse out of a hat.

At race time the nation stops and EVERYONE has to watch this gruesome spectacle – which lasts for about three minutes.

And in the end – a brown horse wins the race. The trainer is a hero and gets a prize, the jockey is a hero and gets a prize, the strapper is a hero and gets a bonus. The owner is a hero and gets a prize.

The horse….well the horse gets nothing except perhaps an extra helping of oats – which is much better than if it falls over an breaks a leg – because then they shoot it.

I would change the rules. If the horse falls over and breaks a leg they put the horse in traction and shoot both the jockey and the owner. This would encourage greater horse care. 

Horses wearing Ugg boots would be walked gingerly around the tracks by the jockeys. No one would mind that - the added bonus would be that the races would go for much longer – probably 30 minutes. More time for alcohol, stripping naked and vomiting on the grass.

For me it was the single worst day of the year – every year. It is singly and uniquely the most fruitless, pointless, shudderingly grisly awful waste of time and energy in the entire history of humanity.

But then I am just a curmudgeon so don’t listen to me.

PS: I have nothing against horses. It's what they do to them that I dislike. 

Best audio quality (IPlayer)

Audio

Elephant Man – Vampires & Informers (SubAtomic Sound dub) – SubAtomic Sound
Taby Ley Rochereau – Mere Ando – Sterns
Ko + Friends – Hiding – Yeti
Bishop R McDaniel – Swing low sweet chariot – Yeti
Plankton Wat – Pathways to spaceways – Yeti
Earth – Divine and bright – Southern Lord
Rangda – Sarcophagi – Drag City
Dirty Projectors – As I went out one morning – Domino
Vessels – Ornafives – Cuckundoo
Clouwbeck – The water’s burden – Sustain-Release Private Press
New Age Steppers - My Whole world - On U sound
Round Robin - I'm the wolfman - Viper
Lavern Baker - Voodoo Voodoo - Viper
Wilder - Skyful of Rainbows - Rough Trade
Dirty Habit - Down Below - Dirty Records
Gregory Isaacs - Time Get Crucial - Heartbeat
Gregory Isaacs - Revenge - Pot Music
Gregory Isaacs - Don't Believe him - Jet Star
Gregory Isaacs - Let's Dance - Jet Star
Gregory Isaacs - If I don't have you - Jet Star
Gregory Isaacs - Looking Back - Jet Star
Lobi Traore - A Lamen - Glitterhouse Records
Pete Madtone - Change the Dub

Ok, so this first video doesn't exactly have a lot to do with climbing...but it does have everything to do with getting stoked.    Watch as this crazy, gravity defying, wingsuit daredevil flies way to close to trees, cliffs, giant statues, and pretty much everything else you wouldn't want to hit at incredibly high speeds.


Jeb Corliss wing-suit demo

The next video we've got in store certainly has more to do with climbing than the first but still keeps the crazy element of jumping off very tall things, namely mountains and desert towers.  For those with sensitive ears I would recommend covering them at the 3 minute mark as Dean drops an F-bomb after leaping off what I believe to be Fitzroy in Patagonia.  Enjoy!


Dean Potter: Falling To Fly

Bild; lånad från The Body Shop

My earliest memory is been given a toffee apple while being lifted in to a high chair. I was age 2 and a half and for some reason I think it was around the time my brother, SawHole Middle Child, was born.

At school I was constantly in trouble for talking.

My first relationship was with the boy down the road. He gave me a Golden Book when I returned from eye surgery, aged four.

I don't like talking about that nasty Christopher Pyne.

My most treasured possession is my white gold, diamond and sapphire ring. My Nanna Freda bought it for my aunt, who then gave it to my Mum, who then gave it to me. My daughter, Miss Charisma, has already staked her claim on it. Nanna Freda told my aunt the ring had diamonds. I found out 20 years later they were cubic ziconias so I replaced them with diamonds, as a push present to myself (even though I had a c-section).

My parents always told me to stop talking and taunting SawHole Youngest Child.

I wish I had been diagnosed earlier.

I wish I hadn't dismissed my intuition about a certain boss (not you, AJK, I love you). I was right about the evil boss and BTW he really needs to learn how to hold eye contact.

My most humiliating moment was a direct result of the wrong man's poor behaviour.

My happiest moments were the day Miss Charisma was born. Most of my time at CSU with Mrs Woog and Co and going on jaunts around Asia, Europe and the US.

At home I cook toast and Just Right.

My last meal would be with a nice big dose of Nembutal. That highly effective euthanasia drug from Mexica. I told a doctor this once and she did not see the humour in it.

I'm very bad at hiding my emotions, shutting up and hiding my contempt for the reactionary state of Australian politics.

If I wasn't me I'd like to be Mrs Woog. She has it all sorted.

The last big belly laugh I had was at dinner with my Gen Y workmates. One of them was arguing for a pure free market and we were putting him back in his box.

When I was a child I wanted to be an actress or on television. Fast forward 30 something years and I am a full-time drama queen and have appeared on the Divine Miss M's television show saying how I would go to a Thai prison if I got to pash Mark Darcy. Mrs Woog was with me, of course.

The book that changed my life is The Hours by Michael Cunningham.

It's not fashionable, but I love Celebrity Rehab with Dr Drew.

Friends say I am offensive and obsessed by Joe Hildebrand .

The song I'd like played at my funeral is the Divine Miss M's Blame it on the Boogie (karaoke version)

My greatest fear is being stuck in a high rise when there is a fire. Lucky there is no such as a high rise in Newcastle.

At the moment I'm reading "Sterling's Gold: Wit & Wisdom of an Ad Man," a real book inspired by the autobiography that everyone's favorite silver fox, Roger Sterling.

At the moment I'm listening to the dishwasher and a Disney movie.

If only I could get over this bloody plateau.

The hardest thing I've ever done was say goodbye twice in 12 months. My advice is vodka, disco tunes and going to New Zealand and knocking yourself our. Literally.

What I don't find amusing is how politicians pander to a small group of voters in marginal seats on the fringes of metropolitan cities.

I'm always being asked - are you Mrs Woog? For the record, I am not. We are two different people. One tall, one short. One lives in Sydney. One lives in Newcastle. One has boys and one has a girl. One husband works in finance, the other managed trucks that blow things up. We both have cats. That's the end of the story.

Cat or Dog? Both.

My worst job was working in a restaurant with a psycho chef. He would call us c*nts and bitches during service and then be all nice at the end of the night. PSYCHO.

I often wonder how can I distract my personal trainer today? Unfortuately he knows my game.

What would YOU like to know about SawHole?

Here's a nice diversion for the weekend. Watch the full recording of Stephen Fry's recent performance at the Sydney Opera House. Enjoy. NOTE: Douglas Adams does get a mention right at the end of the performance/interview.

Thanks to Dave Haddock for this top tip. "Stephen Fry and the Great American Oil Spill" will air on Sunday, 7th November 2010, 8pm on BBC Two. Stephen Fry and Mark Carwardine visit Louisiana to witness the impact of BP's Deepwater Horizon oil spill.

Stephen Fry loves Louisiana. Four months after the BP oil spill, dubbed the worst ecological disaster in the history of America, Fry returns to the Deep South together with the zoologist Mark Carwardine, to see what the impact has been on the people, the vast wetlands and the species that live there. What they find both surprises and divides the travelling duo.

[Image: A fenced-off, back alley security stair in Toronto, via Google Street View; view larger].

A link on Twitter from Andrew Lovett-Barron led me to this otherwise innocuous fenced-in back alley staircase in Toronto, pictured here via Google Street View (view larger).

There's something oddly compelling about this minor architecture of out-of-place private access—as if implying that buildings could begin blocks and blocks away from where they actually rest in urban space, splayed out into the neighborhoods around them like chain-linked octopi, reaching out with stairways, doors, and catwalks across the roofs and back streets of the city. A Home Depot vernacular stretched to Berlin Wall-like proportions.

You don't like your address, you simply hurl a chain-linked access stair up over and out to whatever street you prefer—and you enter there, turning a key and stepping into a steel maze of steps and ladders, cantilevered walkways and pillared decks. Fifteen minutes later, passing over and beneath ribbons of other parallel geographies, looping down alleys and nesting briefly on thin platforms in the canopies of trees, walking alone in this isolated cocoon like a private enclave in the city, you're home.

A couple of weeks ago, I did a final trip to Mt. Baker for the year.  I had a choice of going to either the south or the north side, and because I had not been to the south side all year, that was the choice.  It turned out to be a good choice.  Pretty views, lots of blueberries, and several wildlife encounters with almost no other people around made for a great final trip of the season.

Sunset on the Easton and Deming glaciers on the south side of Mt. Baker.

The nights are getting long this time of year, so after a lot of sleep we headed up to the glacier to work on some skills.  The hike to the glacier was as pretty as I have ever seen it.  The sun low in the sky makes for great light from a photo standpoint.

The Twin Sisters from the Railroad Grade.

I have not seen a larger population of marmots anywhere in the Cascades as there currently is on the south side of Mt. Baker.  I spent a lot of time bothering these guys.  I have always thought I am not the most patient person in the world, but when it comes to patients, the marmot may be the least patient of all.  After being scared and running into their hole I quickly set up the shot I wanted and waited less than a minute for the marmot to poke his head back out.  It really is amazing that more predators have not figured this out.

The vicious protector of the high alpine.

Curious Marmot

An evening walk in dark and foggy weather made this photo possible.

Looking west at sunset.

The following day I had some time to wander around and  check out some of the other wildlife, and head up to the Park Butte lookout.  With a forecast of 6-8 inches of rain overnight chances were the sky would be interesting making for some good photos, but in typical North Cascades fashion when I got there it was foggy and wet.  

A dusky grouse.

Fall colours.

The mountain hemlock.

Western hemlock trees near camp.

Another curious marmot.

Park  Butte lookout on a Cascades fall day.

I dont see these guys often, but its always a treat when I do.

A few hours after getting back down from the lookout the weather cleared for what would surely be a sunset to remember, so I ran back up to the lookout for the second time in four hours and shot the following photo. 

The Twin Sisters range from Park Butte lookout.

So the weekend begins and the beautiful Maxabella gently reminds us all to think about what we are grateful for.
So here (in no particular order) is my list:

Dinnertime at my parents house. It looks like this most nights. Except when they aren't home and then we eat on the couch and watch TV. (Some things never change) And yes, I'm still obsessively photographing everything using the new app my brother suggested for my phone. I can't help it.

Have a wonderful weekend everyone. What are you up to?

Due to the fact that his older siblings are at school Mr. Small spends a great deal of his time going everywhere I go.
In recent months this has involved what he would deem "boring" trips to select ovens and tiles, or to choose carpets and fittings for the bathrooms.
Whenever we get out of the car to go into the shop I intone in my deepest, gravest voice: "Now *Mr Small* remember to have GOOD BEHAVIOUR."
And in an equally deep, grave voice he says: "Yes mummy, GOOD BEHAVIOUR!"
Usually we depart fifteen minutes later, with me flustered and sweat dripping down my back with a very cranky Mr. Small in tow.
You see, I can say those words and he can agree with them, but in his eyes they are meaningless. He just likes being able to say what I say. Fortunately these disastrous trips are becoming rarer, as I learn to make decisions more quickly, and he too learns some patience.
In many other ways however, he is a VSH (very small human)
At night-time he loves nothing more than to fall asleep to the sound of his daddy reading him a book. He kisses his big sister whenever she is crying. He joins in everything his older siblings do even though he can't do it very well.
They, being VSH's themselves, are very tolerant and understanding of his need to take part.
He insists on "helping" the builders whenever we visit our house.
He loves nothing more than helping me sort the laundry or if I'm helping out at a craft project at school. He isn't very good at them, and if I let him help it takes ten times as long, but I've really learned that my VSH wants to be an active part of my life.
So together we bake, we shop, we chatter and sing.We are able to go on "coffee dates" together where he gabbles away about everything from the full moon to the fascinating artefacts that clutter our local haunt.
 I've learned to soak up every minute of it.
Because all too soon my order will only be for one...


*Mr Small* not his real name obviously

[Image: Oceangoing ships clipped and stitched from Google Maps by artist Jenny Odell, via things and SpaceInvading].