There is a marmot living under my front porch. I also heard it on the roof (hopefully the roof and not the attic), perhaps having a scuffle with a jay. Most days he/she is lounging on the front step or eating things in the field next door.
I never really wanted to live in Utah. For at least 6 years I claimed to be on the “one year plan.” My problem was with Utah’s urban areas, but the surrounding landscapes turned out to be a huge exploration opportunity.
Yesterday my shoulder surgeon told me I was “stiff, but nice.” I struggled to figure out what nice meant in terms of healing, but then he added, “Most people aren’t very happy with me when their shoulder is still stiff at 12 weeks.” Ugh.
Actually the desiccated carcasses of an invasive species, commonly known as Russian Thistle, tumbleweeds rolling across the open desert are as iconic as it gets. But those weeds can’t tumble forever!
