Where the Wild Things Are

Moose on the loose
Originally uploaded by littlekidd

As I write this, a mama and baby moose are taking a little nap in the front yard. You can see one of them in the background behind Zack in this picture. They've been here for a couple of hours, watching us watch them through the window. Maybe we are the ones in the zoo. Hope Emma doesn't need to pee anytime soon.

The aforementioned bugs are in retreat, and we are seeing more and more substantial critters around here. One of them (a fox? a raccoon?) has been pooping on our front porch at night. I think the poops are payment for the sneaker it stole off the porch. Not sure why a fox needs just one sneaker.

I'm sure I don't have to tell you that Zack's in heaven. He and I went over to Driggs, ID a couple of days ago to buy a fish tank, which apparently are not for sale here in Jackson. He has been filling it up with fish, water striders and snails he finds in the irrigation ditch behind the house. Today he and his dad are at Kelly Warm Springs, a little magma-heated pond which is home to millions of little critters and every kind of bacteria you can imagine. The took containers with them. I dread to think what they'll bring home.

I'm recovering from a little stomach bug that is making the rounds here. Zack was hit the hardest, and spent a day home from school. Other than that little hiccup, life is grand here at the base of the Grand Teton!

Bugged

Grasshopper goatee!
Originally uploaded by littlekidd

There are bugs everywhere in Jackson Hole. Bugs in our grass. Bugs in our bed. Bugs in the sink and the cereal.

The outside bugs are charming. The air is thick with crickets and grasshoppers. Their song permeates the air.

The inside bugs are not so charming. Earwigs, mostly. They don't seem as bad as they were when we first got here. Last weeked they were having a convention in the kitchen. Nobody had lived in the house in a couple of weeks, and they decided to take up residence. I think they've retreated a little, and we've gotten used to them.

We took a 10-mile bike ride from our house along the bike path yesterday. Zack spotted foxes along the way. And last night as we went to bed we heard an elk bugling his mating call in our yard. This is going to be cool.

"There Won't Be Starbucks"

First, an apology for lack of photos. Jim needs to do a bit of IT wrangling before I upload pictures to this computer. We’ve been in our new home in Jackson Hole since Sunday. We left Portland on Thursday morning, and drove all day to Missoula, Montana. The next day we arrived in Helena where we stayed for three days to celebrate cousin Lo’s wedding and Great-Grandma Mary’s 90th birthday.

We left Helena for Jackson around lunchtime on Sunday the 31st. We came through the stark, bleak beauty of Idaho and I felt like I had fallen back in time. Or maybe fallen into the set for “There Will Be Blood.” We’d drive for miles and miles and see one or two lonely ramshackle houses, and then a few miles later a compound of well-kept white clapboard buildings surrounded by nothing else. Church compounds, I guess. No oil dereks, so maybe “There Will Be Blood” is not quite the right comparison. Maybe “There won’t be Starbuck’s.”

We came screaming over Teton Pass on Sunday with just 20 minutes left before the Sept. 1 price increase on season ski passes. We scrambled to the base of the lift and bought our passes just in the nick of time. It’s the first time I’ve spent hundreds of dollars in a mad rush and felt like I was getting a bargain.

Jim started work the very next day, but I padded around as if I was on vacation, taking long walks with the dog and not really feeling like I had left my Portland home for good. The moving truck arrived yesterday, and reality sunk in. The house we’re in would be a tight fit for our stuff if it were empty, but there’s a bunch of furniture here from its days as a “furnished rental,” so we’re struggling to jam everything in. It looks bit like one of those junk stores with paths from room to room carved between stacks and stacks of boxes and books and random pieces of furniture. The main difference between our place and those places is that ours doesn’t smell like cat pee.

Zack had his first day of school Tuesday, and came home crowing about how he caught a frog at recess. That same day he caught three crickets in our backyard, and a garter snake in his grandpa’s yard. He is in heaven. Every day we walk down our gravel road to meet the school bus. In the distance we can see hot air baloons and just behind them, the Grand Teton. On the first day I picked Zack up at school I saw two moms who arrived to pick up their kids on horseback. There is also a motley collection of dogs who wait at the front door for their kid companions. From now on though, Zack rides the bus home, too. He knows where he lives, and if he loses his way I know he’ll be cared for by somebody safe. Ahh, small town life.

Speaking of small town life, here’s another example. I signed us up for a membership in the National Wildlife Museum down the road. I filled out the paperwork with me “Carolyn Little” as primary member, and “Jim Little” as secondary member. Never said a word to anybody about our connections in town. Our membership cards arrived in the mail a couple of days later, addressed to “Dr. and Mrs. James Little, Jr.” Nothing gets by these local folks.

I’m a little sad today. Missing Portland. Missing my friends. Zack and Jim have full new lives already. It’s going to take more effort and more time for me. And I feel like digging out from under all these boxes has to be my first priorty. I’ll let you know when this feels like home.