CM West :: Retreat at the Beach Impressions

I recently wrote a post about the CM West :: Retreat at the Beach over at Charlotte Mason West where I shared some pictures and discussed our schedule and talks.  However, I wanted to also write a post here to share a little more about what the retreat meant to me.

One of the real highlights of the retreat was the wonderful group of women who got together for it.  Women who talked about books and ideas, who are interested in lifelong learning, and who are passionate about educating their children using life giving methods.  It was such a delight to be around such enjoyable people!

During the retreat, we spent a fair amount of time on our nature journals.  Ever since the Seattle conference, I've been diligently working away at my nature journal, and it has become a fairly established part of my life.  I'm averaging an entry a week, which is right where I want to be.  However, as I looked at other women's journals, I realized how text heavy my journals are.  The writing is a good thing, and the cataloguing and descriptions are certainly useful endeavors.  My observation skills are growing and I am learning more about what I am seeing around me.  However, I realized I would be encouraged to look even more closely and carefully if I was also challenging myself to draw more often.

It isn't that I didn't already know that my nature journaling would be enriched by more drawing.  After all, I own The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady, The Laws Guide to Nature Drawing and Journaling, a couple books by Clare Walker Leslie, and a few others that I've reviewed and then passed along.  I've even spent some time paging through them and reading them.  But it always seemed a little too challenging, a little too daunting.  

However, as I watched some of the women I had come to know work with their journals, I was challenged in a new way.  And this time the challenge seemed within reach.  Because I knew these women a little bit, and because I could see how their journals had progressed over time, I had a sense of what could happen if I made the effort to do a little more.  I had a sense that I could improve over time, and that the time spent practicing and drawing would be enjoyable and enriching.  

So I tried to stretch myself at this retreat.  I did a more involved sketch at the retreat, and with encouragement and some tips, tried some watercolor as well.  The result certainly wasn't amazing, but really, it isn't about the results.  It is about the process, the observations, the willingness to try, and the time spent in focused attention.  And I enjoyed the process, and as I drew I was encouraged to look at the object in front of me in a way that I wouldn't have if I was simply cataloguing it or writing about it.

This is the best I could do with a photo, so I knew I would have to make close observations if I was going to try and sketch them.

I had so much fun stalking these curlews - err... Marbled godwits (oops!) trying to observe them enough that I could sit and sketch them.

Oooh, watercolor!

Since the retreat I've finished reading and commonplacing through the first section of The Laws Guide to Nature Drawing and Journaling, and rather than flipping through the various sections, getting overwhelmed, and putting it on the shelf, I opened to the wildflower section and started working on his first pages for drawing simple flowers. And then I went outside, found some basic five petaled wildflowers, and sketched them.  And you know what?  It was great fun.  I noticed so many new things by trying to sketch as well as catalogue.  And by pairing my sketching with some instruction, I was much more satisfied with the process and the results.  

Drawing practice in my drawing sketchbook

Practicing the techniques I learned in my nature journal

Even though I'm only one step ahead of my kids, I introduced these techniques to them as well.  First during one of our drawing instruction times I introduced the basic methods, then during our nature journaling time we worked on using those methods to draw buttercups.  I was so encouraged to see how much more they enjoyed their nature journaling and the greater confidence they had just from this little bit of knowledge passed along.  

Working with Nathan on sketching a buttercup and also introducing him to watercolor.

One further note:  If you're interested in going to a retreat like this, I would encourage you to seek one out.  Or consider planning one yourself and putting it out there.  There is a strong interest in retreats like this, and I think they are well worthwhile.  They also aren't all that hard to organize and arrange.  If you'd like to know more about how we did it, please contact me and I'd be happy to answer questions via email or a Skype call.  

A Mother's Morning Walk, Redux

Yesterday, due to a cold my children so kindly gave me, I didn't take my morning walk.  It was the first school day where I didn't get my 20 minute morning respite from the noise and commotion of family life in weeks, and as I reflected on the day, I realized what a difference that little 20 minutes makes in my life, attitude, and the atmosphere of my home.

In January I wrote about a new part of my day, my morning walk.  It seems like such a little thing, these twenty minutes or so outside by myself.  I'm not covering any great distance, only walking down the road or perhaps to the creek and back, but it lightens my mood, gives me more patience, and vastly helps me to tackle the challenges of the day with good, or at least better, humor than I would have otherwise.  Even in the few months I've been doing this, it has created deep and beneficial change in myself and my children.

Every day, I challenge myself to notice something in particular. It might be an observation about something I've been watching for awhile, like finally spotting the spider responsible for the web over the little roadside puddle.  Or it might be something entirely new, like a wildflower that has suddenly come into bloom or catching a glimpse of a bird I hadn't seen before.  I also challenge myself to remember things I've seen before and to check them on them periodically.  Is the crab apple in bloom yet?  Are the Pileated Woodpeckers in any of the dead pines above the road?  How are the oaks progressing in their leafing out?  Do I see any new dying pines?  Can I remember the names of the different wildflowers I've been trying to learn and identify?

These walks remind me that that very little is learned quickly.  It takes time to see how many batches of frog eggs will be laid in that roadside puddle, how long it will take before the tadpoles will finally get legs (months, in the case of these leisurely tadpoles).  It takes time and days of watching to finally catch the spider in action or finally get a good look at a bird I've seen and heard many times.  And in this I grow, slowly, in my patience with my children, as they struggle to master the mechanics of long division or the pronunciation of a word.

My observations spill into my family as I bring home news of my sightings.  Sometimes my children will say, "oh, Mom, we noticed the western buttercups blooming below the house days ago!" and sometimes I'm able to share something they haven't yet noticed.  Because of my sharing, they have been much more observant when they are playing outside, as well as more forthcoming in sharing their finds with me and with each other.

I also find that my walks help me to be in a better frame of mind for our morning time.  Rather than rushing through the breakfast clean-up and dressing the young ones or waiting impatiently for my older children to finish up so we can get going on our morning, I come back in invigorated, cheerful, and filled with a peaceful readiness to take on what the day holds.

Identifying and Considering - A Wildflower Walk

Hannah, age 2, considering a Blue Dick flower

"What species is that?" is one of the first questions many people ask of nature.  Identifying plants or animals is challenging and fun.  Species names are useful for communicating with other people, but they can also be a trap.  Many birders will stop looking once they have identified a bird.  The name is not the thing.  Identifying a species is only the tip of the iceberg of inquiry.  It is not necessary to know something's name to ask an interesting question or make a discovery about it.  Ask as many questions as you can, and don't worry if an answer seems beyond your reach at first.  The process of asking questions in and of itself is important.

- John Muir Laws, The Laws Guide to Nature Drawing and Journaling

I took a walk with my mom and the kids a couple days ago and I tried to keep this quote firmly in mind as we oohed and ahhed over all the spectacular wildflowers, looking up the species, noting them in a list on my phone, and flagging them in our wildflower book.  I tried to help us all linger a little longer, looking at the shape of a flower here, the growing conditions there, tracing the twining snake lily from ground to tip and marveling over the spectacular length of the stem, trying to look at each flower and know the name, but also to spend at least a few moments considering something else about it as well.

And largely thanks to my mom, we navigated the  challenges of walking a trail with five children, a stroller, and a 100+ foot drop just off the side of the trail into a river gorge very well.  We looked, examined, considered, and kept the four and two year olds from falling over the edge all at the same time.

And I was pleased that as I copied my list of our finds into my nature journal that evening, I could picture the flowers as I noted them.  They were still distinct flowers in my mind, not just a list of names.

The intricate pod of the Lace Pod is tiny - each pod is only the diameter of a pencil eraser.

Gratuitous kid picture - Hannah insisted on holding Nathan's hand the whole way back. These are the moments I hope to hold in my mind forever.

Keeping Company :: Our Nature Study Collection and Display

I was excited when I saw Celeste's prompt for this month's Keeping Company link-up because I am really pleased with our nature study collection and display.  Our display has lived in a few different places, and at one point moved to a temporary location on the hutch by our dining room table.  Well, this location ended up being not so temporary, because we all decided we liked it in this prominent place.

Yes, there it is, centered under that south facing window on our dining room hutch.

And here's a closer look of our display.  I got this wooden case from a homeschooler who was "retiring" because her kids were heading off to high school.  I'm not sure what she used it for, but when I saw it, it screamed "Nature Study Display!" to me.  My father-in-law informed me that it was a packing crate for soda bottles once upon a time, back in the days before plastic.  When we got it some of the smaller dividers were already missing, which has worked well for our purposes.

We keep bones, leaves, interesting rocks, pine cones, acorns, seed hulls, little things made of natural materials like a few pine needle baskets, dead insects and insect molts, dried lichen and moss, and sea shells on our shelves. We have a repurposed strawberry basket on the left that we use for holding feathers, and another basket on the right for bigger shells.  The wooden box on the right holds my rock, fossil and shell collection from when I was a child (I guess I've always been a keeper!)  My collection is a combination of bought and found, and I take it out periodically to show the kids some rocks, fossils and other things things we wouldn't find around here.

I've tried taking pictures at different times of day but the lighting is always difficult.  I wish I could share better pictures with you!

I lightly dust our display every six weeks or so, and twice a year - generally spring and late fall - I take it all off, dust, rearrange, and together sort through the accumulated treasures, deciding what needs to return outside and what is going to stay.  

Yes, it looks like a mushroom, but it is actually a growth we found on an oak branch several years ago.

The process of deciding what goes and stays has gotten easier as the kids have gotten older and more experienced.  We started this when my oldest was six or so, and it seemed like we had to keep everything forever back then!  But now they are generally a little more selective about what they want to see displayed, and about what they want to keep.  The youngers are a little less discerning, but they are generally willing to listen to their older siblings.  And I've been known to toss a few leaves and rocks outside periodically to keep the display from getting too overwhelming in between the big reorganizations.  I do try to ask first, and generally after something has been displayed for a couple weeks the child won't mind it getting put back outside.

Ladybugs!

About two weeks ago on a cold morning walk I stepped off the trail to watch a seasonal stream course over the rocks through a small meadow near the creek.  As I surveyed the meadow, I noticed a strange red coloration and bumpiness to tips of the dead reeds in the meadow.  As I bent closer to look, I realized what I was seeing was actually ladybugs, clustered tightly together on the top one to two inches of the reeds.

As I looked around, I realized that many of the reeds had ladybugs on them.

I got really excited when I noticed the large clusters of ladybugs under the leaves and hiding amongst the tufts of grass.  I suddenly realized that there were thousands upon thousands of ladybugs in this small meadow!

Some species of ladybugs while in their winter diapause state group together and cluster in sheltered spots until the weather warms and they can return to their aphid hunting grounds.  When it is cold, the ladybugs are completely still and sometimes covered with dew, frost or snow.

But when it warms, the ladybugs are in almost constant motion, only to be still again once it grows cold again overnight.  The motion surprised me, as it doesn't seem like there would be much purpose for it, and there is little food available for an insect that preys primarily on aphids and scale insects.

As you can probably imagine, we've been learning a lot about ladybugs around here!  We've added entries to our nature journals, read about them in the Handbook of Nature Study, and visited them many times.  We're all wondering how long they will stay and if we'll ever get to see this again.

If you'd like to see more ladybug pictures, as well as other daily life pictures, you can follow me on Instagram.  Thanks to Celeste's gentle encouragement, I've started sharing photos there and I'm enjoying it.  

A Mother's Morning Walk

I made a few little changes to my Average Daily Chart at the beginning of the year.  I didn't make any drastic changes, just a few little adjustments to the flow of our day to try and make things even better.  But with kids being sick and a few days out of town, we've had a rough start to the year, and I'm still in the testing and adjusting stage with most of the changes.

Heading to the trail

One change, however, has been wonderful.  I've started taking a 15-20 minute walk by myself each morning before Morning Time begins.

The trail

I can vividly remember a time when I heard a mom with older kids remark that she was taking a walk by herself each day after lunch, leaving her kids home to clean up after the meal.  At the time I couldn't imagine being able to do that...  and now, here I am, almost ten years later, leaving the breakfast clean-up in Emma (13) and Nathan's (7) capable hands.  Emma is also tasked with dressing her two year old sister, and Justin, my 4 year old, is supposed to get dressed, play quietly, and not be a nuisance while I'm gone.  Gregory (10) does some independent work like practicing the piano and typing, and reviewing geography.

The trail junction.  This tree dropped in a early snow storm a few years ago and we left it there to discourage people exploring with ATVs.

There's a not insignificant part of me that feels guilty for not taking the kids with me, and feels guilty for enjoying the solitude and the beauty of the woods without making the effort to bring them with me.

Our recent rain have turned this portion of the trail into a small seasonal creek.

A good mom would take everyone, wouldn't she?  Everyone needs some fresh air and exercise to start off the day!

And then swells into a large puddle that requires some cross country travel or wading.  The sign on the tree says, "No Prospecting, Panning, Sluicing, Dredging, Sniping, or Metal Detecting"  This is gold country, after all, and this section of the creek is claimed and occasionally worked.

But if I bring everyone, the walk balloons into an expedition.  The two minutes it takes me to change my shoes and grab a jacket becomes at least 10, if not 15.  Someone doesn't want to wear that jacket.  Someone wants to bring a large stick and accidentally whacks someone else with it.  Someone starts crying.  Someone wants to be held.  Someone doesn't want to go in the stroller.  Someone else does want to go into the stroller, which makes the first child want to go in too.

Amazing to think this was the dry creek bed of late September!  I wonder what happened to all the banana slugs.

Much of the child-wrangling energy I have is expended getting out the door, getting everyone pointed in the same direction, and then getting everyone home again.  What was supposed to be short, restful, and invigorating becomes long, exhausting, and draining.  Most of the children will come home in good spirits, but there will be one or two who will not be, and will require additional soothing and care before they are ready to be content again.  I'm willing to do it once a week for our nature walk, but every day?

In a few months, this meadow will be a wonderful place to find wildflowers.

And so I go by myself.

The shortcut back to our property, can you see the house just peeking through the trees?

And I come back refreshed and invigorated and I'm much more able to be present and cheerful all day long.

Home!

But I still feel a little guilty.

What my nature journaling really looks like

Photo by my daughter Emma

Yes, it would have been easier to pack up the pencils, call it a morning, and start in on lunch preparations.  But instead I stuck it out at the table after helping the three boys with their journal entries, wrote my entry and sketched my maple leaf, all the while trying to keep my journal in place and my pencils (and toddler!) on the table.  Yes, the table isn't where we generally encourage children to sit, but it was far easier to draw with her there than on my lap.  And in the end, I succeeded.

Nature Walks, Nature Journaling and the Fight to be the Teacher I Want to Be

When I think back over the conference I attended in Seattle, I think there were two encompassing ideas that encouraged and inspired me the most.  The first was a greater understanding of the idea that education is a long term endeavor.  It isn't a matter of a particular book or event or a week of diligent work - or even a year of diligence.  It is many years of regular work, many attempts to do what is right and to keep continuing to press on, even in the face of whiny children, lack of progress, frustration and fatigue.

The second is something that Brandy said at the end of her first talk, that we have to fight to become the teacher we want to be.  This business of trying to lead a rich life full of living ideas and active engagement with those ideas is not an easy one.  It would be much easier to hand out iPads or workbooks to everyone and focus largely on building skills.  Sure, the kids would balk at times to the tedium, but we could push through the work quickly and then move onto whatever else we want to do or needs to get done.  

I thought about both of these things as I sat in the airport on Sunday evening, considering the day I wanted to share with the children when I got back.  I knew I would be home late, and the kids could be a little clingy or overexcited when they saw me again on Monday.  My first impulse - and the one I had planned on doing before the conference - was to get everyone's checklists squared away at the airport, plan my week on the plane, and then jump back into a regular day first thing Monday morning.

But as I considered what I had experienced at the conference, what I had heard and learned and discussed, I wasn't so sure that was what I really wanted to do.  I wasn't sure that was really the best way to draw our family together again after our separation.  I also wanted to bring a little of that post-conference glow into our family life and draw out the conference experience just a little longer.

A banana slug - the slugs around here look just like banana slugs, except they are more of a grey-ish or brown-ish color rather than yellow.

I resolved to postpone our morning time from 8 to 9 and cancel our usual morning activities to take a walk with the kids - a walk that has never gone well with all five children, as it is about a half a mile downhill to the creek, and then of course a steep half a mile back home.  I wasn't sure what they would think of visiting the creek, dry for several months due to the drought.  Would it still be interesting if they couldn't throw rocks in the water?  And I wasn't sure at all how I was going to get my four year old and 21 month old back up the hill if they both fell apart.

Somehow this hill looks a lot steeper in person.  Or perhaps it is the company?

I directed the children to find something to bring home to sketch in their neglected nature journals. I cringed inside as I said it, expecting to hear the chorus of groans that the nature journal usually invokes.  All the children were glad for this opportunity, and even intrigued by my direction to pick something to bring home and sketch.  Is it possible I haven't done this before?  Or has it been so long they have forgotten?  Most of my memories are of dismal failures trying to sketch in the field...  so perhaps it is a common idea that I dismissed out of hand and prematurely.

We had a wonderful walk, and the children were fascinated by the dry creek bed.  We were able to walk up it a ways, discovering 22 banana slugs in the creek bed, marveling at the plants already starting to grow amongst the rocks in the bed, finding a few lingering blackberries and noticing several riparian trees we had not noticed before.  Justin, my four year old, collected a leaf he wanted to sketch, and Gregory (9) found about a half dozen things he wanted to add to his journal.  Nathan (7) was an eager looker, but wasn't sure what he wanted to sketch.  In the end he decided he would use one of his brother's items.  Emma (13) found a maple seed to sketch, and I tore off a small section of an uninhabited paper wasp's nest we found on the ground on our way to the creek bed.

Scouring the creek bed for slugs

We toiled back up the hill, the older boys running ahead, Justin trailing behind and needing a lot of cajoling and encouragement to get back up the hill, Emma offering a steady stream of observations and interest, and Hannah at first being content in the stroller before deciding she really would rather be carried.  She ended up strapped in the stroller against her will and I somehow managed to push it back up the hill while she cried and fussed.  She quickly calmed down when we got home, and everyone set to work on their entries with good cheer.  Gregory, much to my surprise, decided to draw all the specimens he brought home, and Justin was adamant that I help him trace his leaf for his nature journal.  I, thinking of Brandy's talk, helped him to extend his attention a little longer and he made several excellent additional observations and added more detail and color to his tracing.  There was some whining when it came time to label the pictures from one child in particular, but we pushed through and made it work.

It wasn't the idyllic, everything is wonderful and joyous sort of excursion that I, in my more unreasonable moments, am sure that everyone but me gets to have, but it was not the disaster I had imagined either.  Instead it was an in the trenches, trying to do the work sort of outing that I need to keep bringing into our lives.

This post doesn't seem complete without some sharing from our nature journals, so I asked the kids if I could post pictures and they graciously agreed.

Justin (4) - Black Oak Leaf

Nathan (7, Y2) - Pine branch growth - not sure how he got away without labelling...   

Gregory (9, Y4) - Bark, Hazelnut leaf, fern, and a Big Leaf Maple leaf

Mine - I mostly write in my nature journal, but I do try to stretch myself and sketch at least occasionally.  I'm never very happy about how it turns out though!

Emma (13, Y8) - Maple seed sketches and description

Alaska: 17 Days with 5 Children

Our trip to Alaska sprang upon us suddenly one October day in the form of question and a happy answer.

"Will you marry me?"

"Yes!!!"

And all of a sudden our vague thoughts of, "oh, wouldn't it be neat to visit Chris (my husband's brother) in Alaska someday?" became, "We're going to Alaska next summer!"

A view from Skilak Lake Rd in the Kenai Wildlife Refuge

Since we were making the effort to get all seven of us up there, it seemed reasonable to figure out how we could extend the trip beyond what was needed for the wedding.  My husband is a self-employed website developer, which means no paid vacation but it also means he can do his work from any location with an internet connection.  Matt and I have talked occasionally about combining travel and work, and this was a good opportunity to try it out.

Fireweed, gorgeous and incredibly common

We set some priorities for the trip, namely we wanted to be able to be up there for at least two weeks,  to spend some time at Denali National Park and on the Kenai Peninsula, and I wanted to do at least one thing outside that wasn't at toddler pace.  We wanted to visit at least one glacier and see some Alaskan wildlife like moose and bears.  We wanted to camp, but we not willing to camp for the entire time.  We wanted Matt to be able to work for part of the trip, but not all of it so he could have a vacation too.  We also wanted to minimize costs as much as possible, since we didn't have a lot of time to save for the trip.  This meant that there wouldn't be any flight seeing trips, hotels, nannies or long boat excursions.  We planned to eat out only during our long layovers at the Seattle airport.

Portage Glacier

We did very well with the plane tickets because we each signed up for an Alaska Air credit card and used the bonus miles and companion tickets to pay for most of the flights.  I believe we only had to pay for three full price tickets instead of six, which was a great help.  Surprisingly, the single most expensive part of our trip was our rental minivan.  We were able to drop the price by a third by continuing to shop around as the trip got closer, but it ended up being more expensive than the airfare!

A big horn sheep at the Anchorage Zoo

We spent the first part of the trip in Anchorage, where Chris lives and where the wedding took place.  We were able to stay in a rental house with Matt's parents, his grandfather, his other brother and his fiancée, and an aunt and uncle.   Yes, it was a full house - fourteen people in all!  I took over the cooking and a majority of the grocery shopping for our extended family, which helped a great deal with costs and with providing opportunities for the family to visit together.  Matt was able to work everyday, and on one afternoon my mother-in-law watched over the napping 20 month old and three year old while Matt and I took the older three on a fabulous bike ride along the Anchorage coastline.  (Yay, I got to do my one thing that wasn't at a toddler pace!)  I also took the kids to the Anchorage Zoo and the start of the wonderful solar system walk in downtown Anchorage, and as a family we visited the Portage Glacier and Whittier Tunnel, the Anchorage Science Museum, and took some walks along a scenic local greenbelt.

This is an amazing scale model of the solar system, where the sun (pictured) is in downtown Anchorage and Pluto is about 8 miles away in Kincaid Park.  They scaled the walk so that at a leisurely walking pace, each step equals the distance light travels in one second.

The bike trail that runs along the sound in Anchorage

After the wedding, Matt unplugged and we headed off to the Kenai Peninsula.  We had brought a huge duffel packed with all our sleeping bags and pads, as well as our backpacking stove, tent and cooking gear.  Because we were outfitted already for backpacking, our gear was small enough and light enough to be able to bring without too much trouble.  We did have to borrow two more tents from Matt's brother as well as an ice chest, but he was more than happy to help.  We spent three days camping near Kenai Lake in the intermittent rain and drizzle, but had one gorgeous day where we got to float the Kenai River on Chris' drift boat.  The three older kids got to try their hand at fishing for the first time, and we got to see a grizzly and many bald eagles.

Exit Glacier, from a viewpoint showing where the glacier was 200 years ago.  What I find even more amazing is that at the peak of the last ice age, this glacier filled that central bowl and only bit of the peaks on each side peeked through the ice.

The Kenai River - isn't that glacial blue amazing?

After the Kenai, we packed up and headed north.  When we first plannedour trip we had hoped to all camp in Denali, but after a difficult camping trip to Yosemite in May, we decided to split forces.  I stayed in Palmer at a rental suite with the younger three, and Matt drove north with the older two, planning to camp three nights in Denali National Park.  

Wasn't it considerate of this bear to pose so nicely along the river, just after the spot where we put in?

I had a great time with the younger three in the Palmer area.  The rental suite, being a little off the beaten path in Palmer, was reasonably priced (for an Alaskan summer rate, at least) and turned out to be a gem.  The weather was great (although it was funny to hear local kids complaining about it being "too hot" at a very pleasant 74 degrees!) and we visited the reindeer farm, a small local lake, a local park, went to Mass at the local Catholic Church and crashed their parish picnic and drove to the Matanuska Glacier.  On the way to the glacier I got to see a female moose and her calf, but unfortunately didn't have the presence of mind to take a picture.  I was too busy trying to make sure the kids were able to see it too!  This was, by far, the most restful part of the trip, and I relished the opportunity to focus on my younger ones and move at their pace without feeling torn between their pace and the pace of the older kids and my husband.  I taught our six year old to play chess, put littles to bed early and read Daisy Chain and enjoyed watching them interact with the beautiful surroundings.  

Trying to help two kids feed the reindeer and keep the food away from said reindeer and protect the shrieking 20 month old and take pictures at the same time was truly a comical experience.  I love this picture, although I didn't appreciate having to wipe reindeer slobber from my camera after the experience.

Temporarily dividing up the family ended up being a great choice, since Matt and the older kids had nothing but rain, drizzle and cold the whole time they were at Denali.  After getting back from a great but very damp tundra walk and finding a wet tent, they decided to throw in the towel and come back a night early.  Thankfully there was space (and a beautiful sunny day!) to dry all their things at the rental in Palmer, and we were able to spend some time together as a family at the rental and visiting the local musk ox farm.

Their undercoat is amazingly soft and warm, but it takes six hours to brush each musk ox in the spring!  And then the hair has to be cleaned and spun...  no wonder it costs $90 for a small skein!

And then it was time to head home.  We had fresh salmon for dinner on our last night in Alaska and I was able to take one last walk the morning before we left.  Our trip back was reasonably uneventful though long, and we were happy to get home again.  The younger kids missed their toys, and my daughter missed having a little more personal space and more crafting options.  I'm not sure I was all that glad to be back, but I think that's a good indicator of how much I enjoyed the trip.

The view from the parking lot at the Catholic Church in Palmer.

We're already talking about how we could go back to Alaska, and what we would do next time.  I'd still like to go to Denali, and I would love to take a boat excursion out into Prince William Sound.  There's also a longer hike up past Exit Glacier to the Harding Ice Field that caught our eye, as well as a number of other hikes on the Kenai Peninsula.  And with Chris and his new wife Shana intending to stay in Alaska, we have an even better reason to go back!  Maybe in another three or four years...