Small injuries + full hearts

There have been some ailments in the house this month. BearCat got beat up by something while roaming the night and had to spend 24 hours at the vet's getting a burst abscess cleaned out. Then Zuri ran straight into my knee and knocked me flat, luckily no permanent damage but it definitely hurts! It's put a snag in my running game. And lastly, Zuri developed a infection in a mammary gland and is on antibiotics/anti-inflammatory meds. She also had some cooked chicken bones as an accidental snack and so waiting for that to clear has also been a little stressful.

I wouldn't trade having animals in my life for anything. Growing up, my dad taught me the importance of having compassion for small creatures. He has a huge heart for animals, so we brought home a lot of strays. Stray cats mostly, and bunnies, and once we had a hedgehog for a couple weeks. I snuck a kitten into my room by hiding it in a shoe box. I knew if I could get it past my mom, it would be enough to convince my dad to keep it. My mom was mad. My dad was compassionate. We kept the cat. Every animal was unique and special to him, regardless of where it came from. When Pip was hit by a car, my dad cried for me and for the dog.

Even how I got BearCat was strange. My friend had discovered a litter of kittens under their porch and needed to find homes for them. I was freshly moved into the trailer in LA and needed an animal to keep me company. My friend Doug said he had one for me and brought me BearCat on a whim, tucked into a little travel box, to a concert I was at. Bear sat in the crook of my neck through the loud music; he had fallen asleep.

My vet bill this past month was insane, I put it all on a credit card. I don't care. There are a hundred people in my life who I cherish and adore, who I couldn't live without...but there is nothing compared to the secret spot of understanding and adoration I share with my dog, or the absolutely care-free moments of pure fun I share with my little wild cat. I hope my life is always full of silent moments with dogs who need love from me, and moments of warmth from small things tucked into the corner of my arm or behind my knee as the sun goes down. There is nothing I would trade that for. Nothing ever.

California Dreamin

Sometimes you have to leave the familiar and experience something new in order to appreciate where you are. This past weekend, I flew down to Sacramento to visit my best friend KTW who is in law school at UC Davis. 

California holds a really incredible feeling for me. Warmth, joy, a deep appreciation for memories created there. And especially in Central CA where I've spent a lot of time working at a summer camp and exploring the area. When I go back there, I feel a sense of incredibly loving nostalgia. My friend Emily joined me on the trip and we went hiking through some rolling hills, and then up a big waterfall trail, we raided Trader Joe's twice, I took time to watch the clouds roll by and see the sunset's pink light reflect off the green hills and happy cows. 

But I could never leave the PNW. It makes my heart hurt even to leave the little pocket of Walla Walla! On the plane home, I looked out the tiny window and saw the little Blue Mountains and our long endless roads, going to all corners of the valley. I ached for my home! For my husband, for Zuri Girl! The familiarity of home. Far away from busy cities and long commutes. Nick is applying for nursing schools in Portland, and the thought of leaving within the year sends a little bit of panic through my body. Finding a new job, new house, figuring out where I can do my grocery shopping. Little things really, but the familiar is so important to me. 

I know eventually, the Hams will need to branch out and move somewhere else. Create a home elsewhere. Because we're young and we need to have lots of adventures and experiences, but oh my home! I need to be brave, but this bird loves a safe place to land. 

January one is no fun

Okay, I know, it is 2016! Amazing! Light the fireworks, I love! Pop the champagne! Wake up feeling fresh! But please do not share your new years resolutions with me. I hate those.

I understand the importance of goal setting, I'm 100% on board with that. I also understand the importance of doing continual work on your projects, whether it be personal, physical, spiritual, etc. But why do we have this unofficial national holiday where we make people feel bad about what they need to do in order to make themselves better, or acceptable? I don't know...does anyone else feel like it's too much pressure? Is there another way?

My friend Emily refines her goals list in the summer time! To me, that's a great time to wake up and decide that "today is a new day, I'm tan, here's some pink lemonade, and I will begin working on my goals now." Personally, I set new goals for myself in October, while I was on a pumpkin spice high, and I have never been more hopeful or productive. They were simple goals:

1) Go to the gym every other day
2) Read books
3) Stop beating myself up for not having a perfectly organized house

Very simple, broad goals! What do they mean to me? Mostly, these goals are to help replace some of my bad habits.

I watch a lot of television. The couch has developed a Becka-shaped nest in it where I sit while I watch TV. Stories and comedy are my junk food- I love to see a story develop and I love to laugh. I've binge watched through some (most) of the essential comedy series on Netflix. This...is not the worst thing I could be addicted to, but it's also not super healthy.

Luckily, I got the Netflix app ON MY IPHONE, and now I can watch Parks & Rec while I'm on the treadmill!! Ah so good. Every week since October I have gone to the gym and squatted, pushed, pulled, pumped, jumped, and almost passed out for about 30 minutes. Then I reward myself with walking on the treadmill and watching TV. Harmony! Everyone wins! (I realize now that I did not replace a bad habit, but now am rather...facilitating it in a healthier way?)

Reading more books is important to me as well. But who has time to read when one wakes 30 minutes before one has to be at work, types on a computer for 8 hours, and then has to go to the GYM, stretch, cry from soreness, shower, get into bed and kiss one's dog till one falls asleep!? Turns out there's an app for that. I downloaded Audible! Now I listen to books I want to read while I walk/run/squat/cry/bathe. (perhaps this is becoming a post about how to make really good use of your smartphone? you decide). But I also am trying to set apart time on the weekends where all I do is spend an hour or so reading a real physical book. If you have suggestions, please share!

And not bad mouthing myself for not having a house that looks like it's in Sunset Magazine. After all, I do live with a grown man, who sometimes passes as a legitimate grizzly bear, and a dog who is either a wild boar or a small horse, we're not sure. I used to sit at work and STRESS about the state of my home- the dishes in the sink, the unfolded clothes in the dryer, the unmade bed, the leaves in the yard. I think these thoughts were perpetuated and made significantly worse by my time spent skimming actual Sunset Magazines for content while at work. But I live a real life, and real life is a little bit messy and disorganization sometimes. I refuse to submit to the pressures of Pinterest.

Reminder: The Important Places

Don't ever forget where you come from. Don't ever forget the people you left there.

Lost + Found

Zuri almost died on Saturday. We were at Smith Rocks in Oregon, walking up towards the east when she went for a dip in the canal and was swept into an underground tunnel right before my eyes.

I screamed her name and tore off my pack, dropped everything on my person and ran to where I thought perhaps the canal let out into the river. I passed other hikers, asking them in a loud voice, "Have you seen my dog? She's big and brown! She has a blue collar! Tell me if you see her!" My brother was right behind me, yelling to run down river as he ran up river. Panic is such a strange emotion- so high pitched and lurching and cold. Fast thoughts flashed through my brain: canals I'd been to, dark water, lost dogs, the soft fur behind her ears, grates that catch debris. 

What if she'd been caught against a grate? What if she was drowning? What if her collar or her harness snagged on something? She's not a good swimmer! Tears and sweat and dirt caked me. Tyna ran down the hill to me and I fell into a little heap and cried onto her tennis shoes, certain that my best friend (this dog that owns me! this dog that eats my Birkenstocks! this dog that takes up my whole bed! this dog that won't stay off the counter and loves hot sauce!) had died and I would never even find her body.  

Tyna's husband yelled from the top of hill, near where Zuri had fallen in, saying we need to go UP! Come up! The canal was on the other side of the cliffs- a three mile hike on a utility road. My best friend Emily had already begun the trek. It was no small hike, but finding Zuri dead or alive was up to us. No one else was going to go. So we moved quick through the hot sun up and up and up, and then down and down and down. The land spread out, speckled with trees and rocks and more rocks. 

My brain yelled, "She's gone. She's gone. You'll never find her." My heart whispered, "She's alive. She's alive. Zuri doesn't die. Dogs don't fear death." I sprinkled trail with tears and prayers. Small pebbles and sharp pieces of plants were pushing into my sandals. Emily was so far ahead I couldn't even see her down the long road.

At the opening of the canal, no dog in sight. There were four of us who spread out. I ran off path towards the river that traces the park. Emily went west. We yelled, I cried. I felt saturated with exhaustion. Two hawks flew over my head, balanced in the light breeze. I plopped into the dirt and told myself that if we didn't find her today, we'd find her tomorrow. Someone would. Zuri is not dead, I kept telling myself. 

"We have Zuri! B! We have her!" I could barely hear Emily yell through the trees. I ran to find Zuri, bouncing as always, with Emily holding her leash. Not even a scratch on her. No broken bones. Very much alive. It was as if she hadn't even noticed that she just took a swim down a mile long canal that travels under thousands of tons of earth. 

That night in the tent, I pulled her fleece over her big head. She laid down next to me and stretched out her endless legs. My body ached. The arches of my feet felt the consistency of sawdust. I tried to push the events of the day to the back of my mind, but before I could forget to tell her, I laid my head next to her soft ears and said, "I love you and all of you. I love you and all of you. All the bad parts, all the good parts. I love you and all of you," to the dog who owns me.  

We Got Married

Photography: Jennifer Young Studio
Dress: Reformation
Flowers: Independent
Shoes: Pikolinos

late june.

This month, Nick is in Alaska fishing. So it's been just Zuri, Copper, and me at the house. Copper is our friend Brad's hound dog. Brad is in Alaska too.

The days feel short and the nights feel broken up by the movement of the pups. Each day is similar- wake up around 5:30 with the dogs; let them dance their dance, sometimes they fall asleep again but hardly ever; I go to work, I come play with them at lunch, then work, then come home and play with them in the yard, walk the slackline alone, and take Zuri for a run. I made dinner and then I go to bed.

Yesterday, I almost walked out of work and never went back. It was a hard day. My best friend Victoria, who is in medical school, has been making good use of the summer climbing mountains. She had just come down from Rainier yesterday, feel her heart pumping all her blood and exhaustion overcoming her, and I was just here...in my box of an office. My heart was breaking. My husband is living in the big vast wilderness of Alaska doing hard work, my brother Mark is wandering the world with just a few things on his back, Victoria is scaling mountains, and the four walled life is not the life for me.

It's tough. Reality sets in pretty quick. School loans are a heavy load to carry. Much heavier than the pack I'd like to be carrying on my pack through the trails of the Continental Divide. Nick and I have talked about living in a van. Maybe when Zuri is a little older. I want to see the National Parks. I want to put all our new wedding gifts in storage. Each day I spend in this office, I think of all the sunlight and fresh air I'm missing out on. And how everyone else I love is out there, somewhere, in the wild.