Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Tastes of Home

Whenever I cook one of my Grandma’s recipes, a goofy grin spreads across my face as my nose registers the odors emanating from the kitchen. Whether I’m baking her dinner rolls, making cucumber salad, or creatively building a bundt pan to bake her sour cream coffee cake; I can’t help but think of her house. By the time I take a bite of the familiar food, I’m fully smiling and saying aloud, “It tastes like Grandma’s house!”

As a peripatetic person, specific foods always become associated with certain periods of my life. Kiwis obviously will always bring up memories of New Zealand, as will cold cereal in tupperware, PB&J, and applesauce bread. Breakfast burritos (potatoes, refried beans, Lots of bacon, eggs, salsa, and some cheese) make me think of Tutakoke field camp and how my boss Thomas would deliver them to us while we sat watching for migrating birds for 2 hours every morning.


Night’s Watch from Camp Tower

Delicious fresh peaches make me think of post-hunting stops at the Oakland County Farmers’ Market with my dad in Michigan’s autumns. (I even called him from NZ to let him know I was thinking of him as I ate a peach from a farm stand down there.) Persimmons bring up memories of Thanksgivings in California. Raspberry wheat beers remind me of the Pub on UAF’s campus.

Tonight I wanted a beer after thinking about all my issues with our society for the majority of the afternoon. With delight I pulled an Alaskan White from the fridge, took a sip, and declared, “It tastes like home!”




Read Full Post »

As a fact of history, Spartans were tough, gritty, and formidable opponents in battle. As a fact of present times, the Michigan State Spartans are tough, gritty, and formidable opponents in athletics. Coincidence? I think not.

Obviously the original Spartans had nothing to do with the state of Michigan; having them as the mascot of Michigan State University seems to be quite random. The Michigan Wolverines of evil Ann Arbor have a more logical mascot when you think about how Michigan once had a decent number of the wild animal. However, I guarantee you won’t find a wolverine anywhere near Ann Arbor today.

This is my tame manner of once again sharing that I’m a Spartan fan. Typically it comes out more as “If I ever meet a Wolverine, I’m going to kill it!” (kidding… mostly!) Why on earth do I have such a strong aversion to the University of Michigan and love for Michigan State University?

Glad you asked.

If you grow up in Michigan and have an interest in sports, you’ll probably be raised supporting Detroit’s teams. Some are clearly easier to support than others. Recently the Lions (NFL) have picked up their game, but really, finding the positives in a team that can make history by going 0-16 is difficult. The Pistons (NBA) seem to be one of those teams that can go either way. We have the Red Wings of Hockeytown. Need I say more there? Historically the Tigers (MLB) haven’t been particularly special, but baseball is as much about history, fan base, and families as it is about records. For about the past decade they’ve been pretty interesting to watch.

Now we can move to college athletics. While there are plenty of universities in the state, primary Division 1 athletics come down to Michigan State and Michigan. We’re a very divided state.

For whatever reason my dad tends to support the Michigan Wolverines. My mom honestly doesn’t care much about sports, but if she has to pick one of the colleges, she generally supports Michigan State because it’s typically the underdog. Unfortunately my brother followed my dad’s lead in rooting for the Wolverines. I really have no idea why, and I’m glad he didn’t end up going to college there. The thought of being directly blood-related to a Wolverine is just awful.

That leaves my decision to support the Spartans. My family claims I like State because Jeff likes Michigan. I will admit that originally sibling tension was a large factor in choosing my team. So thanks, Jeff, for helping me pick the better all-around school. However, the Spartans definitely became my team over the years.

Since Jeff’s birthday is in July, our family would often be off on vacation in neat places for his birthday. With an early December birthday, I was always just stuck in our Detroit suburb. My parents decided to surprise me with a birthday trip when I turned 10, and we drove west to East Lansing to spend the weekend on the banks of the Red Cedar River at the beautiful Michigan State University.

While there, our family took a campus tour for prospective students, met Sparty, went to a hockey game, and ate ice cream (made on campus) from The Dairy Store. It was a wonderful weekend that solidified my support for the Spartans.

Ever since that trip, there’s been no turning back. With my love of animals and interest in being a veterinarian, MSU’s fantastic vet school became another reason for my support of the Spartans. I even was a “graduate” of the 2003 Vet Camp, a program that accepts 100 just-graduated 8th graders to a week of behind-the-scenes veterinary experiences.

While following sports, I’ve recognized that Michigan has an arrogance issue in academics and sports. When you hear Michigan talking, it’s all about how they have the “winningest” football program in the country. Their obnoxious fight song sings about how they’re the victors, the leaders, and the best. The school thinks it’s awesome, and I can’t stand it.

Michigan State may not be as prestigious as UM, but its students and players have more heart. The basketball program, led by Tom Izzo, has a reputation for peaking at the right time: around March Madness. Mark Dantonio has turned the football program around by recruiting 3 and 4 star recruits and creating a family out of a team.

Even in basketball – where the Spartans are respected – they have to earn their wins. And Izzo doesn’t appear to smile or coddle his team. If they’re not playing up to snuff, he tells them. When they play their best, no one’s prouder than Izzo.

I see so much cohesiveness in the football and basketball programs that I can’t help but smile. The videos of Dantonio dancing with his team in the locker room are wonderful because they show how goofy the guys can be together. As a result, no longer are the Spartans the “little brother” of the Wolverines.

Because of that community atmosphere and hard work ethic, the Spartans are my team. They usually enter games as underdogs and come out having gained more respect from the sports community. Although with their recent record-setting success as the first NCAA school EVER to win 4 consecutive bowl games and make it to the Sweet 16 in the same 4 years, some of that underdog feel is leaving as it’s replaced by higher expectations.

For my nerves’ sake, I almost wish they’d stick to being average so that I can just be pleasantly thrilled when they pull off big wins. Being respected teams means that losses are a lot more damaging.

That brings us to where we stand today. Last night I watched Izzo’s Spartans claw their way to victory by pulling off the upset over Oklahoma, thereby securing standing in the Elite Eight. I’m with most of the community in being surprised that they’ve made it this deep into the tournament, so these games are highly taxing on my emotions. According to most articles, this basketball team just didn’t seem to be putting the pieces together very frequently this year, and it showed in their record. Now I’m along for the unexpected ride in hoping the team chemistry keeps clicking this weekend.

With all of this sports talk, I’ll be perfectly honest and say that I don’t recognize most plays or a number of penalties in football. I’m rather clueless about basketball; for me, it’s just 2 teams running back and forth on the court as they make me extremely nervous with their shots or lack thereof. Regardless, I enjoy getting all worked up when I watch. Last night Kelsey enjoyed watching me watch the game. I murmurred, “ahh”ed, and squirmed throughout the game. Fortunately I was able to end the game with some happy pounding on the table.

A few highlights from the game:

“No no no no no no… I don’t even know where the ball is!”   – me (I think Oklahoma was in danger of shooting.)

“No no no no. Ahh!! I can’t watch.” ~opened my eyes~ “What happened?”       – me

“Stop blocking your eyes! Your team has the ball.” – Kelsey

“Just don’t let them score for the next 10 minutes. I don’t ask for much, do I?”       – me

“Why does our bench keep moving back?” – Kelsey

Although I did not take my offered place as a student at Michigan State, I’m thoroughly invested in the school and cheer for its teams. Whenever the Spartan hockey team would come up to play the UAF Nanooks, I didn’t know who to cheer for. I’d wear my Spartan hat with my UAF sweatshirt! I may have left my home state for college, but I didn’t leave behind my Spartans.

Read Full Post »

There will be no drumroll preceding an announcement of what I’ll be doing this summer. No dramatic sigh of contentment. No champagne showers at having persevered with patience through the final at-bat. You’ll see nothing of the sort here, since I still don’t have word of my future.

Seeing as I’ve heard nothing, I’ve decided maybe it’s a sign I should just pour out the potential for people to read. Maybe once I’ve shared it, I’ll wake up to some emails of answers.

Ever since hearing about the summer seasonal work that happens on scattered islands of the Alaska Maritime National Wildlife Refuge, I’ve had dreams of working on a remoter-than-remote island.

In a nutshell, these positions entail about 4 months of monitoring seabirds. Sometimes that means muttering to yourself as you watch for hours to see whether birds are sitting on empty nests, eggs, or chicks. Other times that means catching birds to mark them and take various samples. Sometimes you’re awkwardly positioning yourself to peek into a crevice nest in a boulder field to see the status of a nest.

At times your schedule is based on the tides. Perhaps you’ll find yourself stripping with your boss to change into dry base layers after hiking to your work site. You’ll have days of feeling like you live in a fog bank. Once or twice the refuge ship will come by to resupply camp and let you take a “real shower.” You’ll have radio check-ins with the other camps just to see how things are going. You won’t have internet or cell access for the summer.

Those are the makings of a paid adventure!

When I worked on St. George Island – one of the Pribilof Islands in the Bering Sea – I had applied to work for AMNWR, thinking I’d be placed in the Aleutians. A college schedule limited my dates of availability, so I ended up in the Pribs. Believe me, I have NO complaints about that one.

As such I still haven’t spent an entire summer out on a volcanic island surrounded by dramatic topography, seabirds, seals, and only 2-3 other people. I’ve talked about it for the last 5 years, and I’ve made it through the rigorous USA Jobs application process to reach an interview both last year and this year.

(a) Loving the Tutakoke River black brant camp and (b) being a good person kept me from interviewing last year, since I’d already committed to returning to Tut as a seasoned technician. When I declined an interview, I said, “You can know that the refuge is my absolute #1 choice for next summer.”

Well. Life made a liar out of me, as the refuge finds itself tied with a relative newcomer for first place this year.

Also last winter, after I’d committed to Tut, a dream posting went up on the Texas A&M Job Board:

Polar bear and waterfowl summer field technician: Manitoba

In essence, the job looked like a unique position working with snow geese and common eider In. Polar bear. Country.

In the Wildlife Biology field, you tend to gravitate toward a certain type of animal. (mammals, birds, amphibians, insects, etc…) I’d guess that many start out with interest in “charismatic megafauna” – the impressive, powerful, furry mammals – before learning that there really aren’t that many field jobs posted for mammal work, and you have to know the right people to get a foot in the door.

That’s how birds “happened” to me. I applied to a number of field jobs without even necessarily knowing what the birds were, and I was fortunate enough to be hired because of my lack of experience. Bam. One season with spectacled eider led to seabirds, kiwi, black brant, and paid birding in California.

Although some would label me a birder, I prefer the term “bird professional.” You won’t see me racing across the country to see a “lifer,” but I’ll admit birds are pretty neat and fun to handle. Watching nests change from one-eggers to full clutches throughout incubation, to the hatch of little down balls running across the tundra is entertaining. I’ll gladly take bird jobs, but I’d still love to break into the mammal world.

When I was in first grade, my Dad took our family to Churchill, Manitoba: the Polar Bear Capital of the World. The bears move through the Churchill area in October as they wait for the ice of Hudson Bay to form. We took a day-long excursion on a tundra buggy to drive around and watch wildlife.

While parked to watch some bears, my life’s interests developed. I was standing at the front door of the buggy when a polar bear put its front paws on the threshold of the door and established eye contact with me. Maybe the bear was seeing me as food, but I was seeing the bear as the coolest animal ever. For me, it was love. Polar bears have been my favorite animals ever since.polar beartundra buggy


Polar bear photography could be the earliest interest I ever had in photography. I saw pictures of photographers sitting in cages on snow, and I thought to myself, I want to do that!

Since my blood is American rather than Canadian, finding my way to a job out of Churchill poses more paperwork than companies would like. Regardless, the idea has been somewhere in my mind for years.

Seeing this job with waterfowl in the Churchill area with the potential to see polar bears again sounded perfect. We’d do the usual searching for nests and monitoring them throughout incubation to hatch. There would be some trapping and banding drives. We’d also end up collecting some birds for dissections and collecting plant samples. We’d set up cameras at nests to monitor polar bear foraging behavior. Some work would involve aerial helicopter surveys, and we’d always have a firearm around for bear safety. It sounded pretty spectacular.

Having given my word to Tut, that job was also out of the running for last summer. Although it seemed like a great mix of both worlds, I knew it wouldn’t happen for me.

I didn’t let the job leave me head, which is how I got to my current situation. I spent last summer working with brant at Tutakoke, and then I stayed an extra month to help with a captive brant and vegetation study in its first year. I had a number of reasons for staying, including:

  • I didn’t want to return to civilizaion
  • I didn’t want to leave the crew
  • I wanted to gain some experience with vegetation
  • I wanted to volunteer for Ryan, a grad student at Utah State – the school associated with the Manitoba study

In talking earlier in the season, I’d realized that Ryan knows the grad student in charge of that project. Ryan was of the thought that Dave had one more field season in Manitoba, meaning there was a slight chance to work on the project after all! Knowing a personal recommendation would be 100% helpful in increasing my chances, I decided helping out on Ryan’s project could have many benefits.

By contacting Dave in December and January, I put my name and credentials in the mix before the funding was approved and the job posting listed.

So that’s where things stand. Somewhat fortunately I had both interviews within days of each other, and now I’m just playing the waiting game. Earlier I turned down one job with emperor geese on the YK Delta. A third dream-like job appeared for work with common loons in New Hampshire, but I’m almost glad that one didn’t pan out. I’d have needed to ask jobs to duel to win my heart.

Both positions involve hiking on tundra, which my shins heartily dislike; I may hate myself for it in future years, but I just waive that fact aside. A physical presence in Manitoba’s bear country could get me somewhere toward finding work in Churchill. The Aleutians provide a solid 5 months of work with good pay, while Manitoba only adds up to about 2.5 months of work at research-level, NSF funding pay. If I was in this field for the money, I wouldn’t be in this field. This is about gaining incredible experiences.

In a best (or worse) case scenario, I’ll get emails from both positions and then just stare hopelessly at the hats on the table before me. It could be as close to Signing Day as I’ll ever get. But on the other hand, at this point I just want a cool summer job. No sweat, right?

Read Full Post »

We’ve all heard that a picture says a thousand words. One picture from college captures my feelings when I learned the truth about Wildlife Biology, and that one picture explains my life thus far.


Literally facing reality

When I started college, I was pursuing a degree in Wildlife Biology. After one year of courses, the idea still sounded reasonable. My thought was to have a job that would keep me outdoors as much as possible. However, a couple courses during my sophomore year helped shatter the illusion of spending my life outdoors as a Wildlife Biologist.

In spring 2009 I faced the rigors of BIOL317: Comparative Anatomy of Vertebrates, and WLF201: Wildlife Management Principles. Among the many wildlife students I’d been joining in classes for the last year and a half were my friends Tim and Dave. Actually, I didn’t really know Dave, but Tim formed us into a sort of trio. Although the wildlife program at UAF is well respected and obviously in a great location, most wildlife classes are fewer than 30 students in size. As we progressed through classes together, we became our own little community.

Dr. Erich Follmann taught Comparative Anatomy, one of just a couple Biology courses that included 2 lab sessions per week. The labs were optional but entirely necessary, as that’s where we dissected a perch, a pigeon, and a cat. anatomyThroughout the semester we learned the insides of these animals as we learned just how many layers of fascia (as an expletive: Fascia!!) could lie between us and the particular feature for which we were searching. We memorized bones, muscles, blood vessels, the nervous system, the urinary system, the reproductive system, the digestive tract, and more. Not only did Tim and I need to recognize the components in our study specimens, but also in any other lab partners’ dead animals. I can’t tell you how many hours Tim, Dave, and I spent agonizingly studying for lab exams. Actually Dave typically headed out early to watch some pre-season MLB coverage. I haven’t really used any of that anatomical knowledge since; still, those were good times.

Wildlife Management Principles ended up teaching me more about myself than about wildlife. Lectures taught basic models and statistics used for managing wildlife populations, and lab sessions consisted of running basic statistics through a computer program and then interpreting what the data meant. wlf labTypically that meant we’d sit at computers and keep some internet tab open to hold our attention while the TA worked on figuring out a glitch or explained what we were accomplishing. In other words, we were learning how to be indoor biologists, which is essentially what one becomes after passing through the echelons of field tech and graduate student.

In the world of wildlife lessons there lies one critical point that gets hushed. Unless one plans on being a permanent field technician, the job boils down to 80% office work and 20% fieldwork.

Umm, come again?

Shortly after initially realizing this ugly truth, there was one day when Tim and I saw Dr. Follmann riding the campus shuttle. “There’s more to Wildlife Biology than statistics and reports, right?” Tim asked.

The kind Dr. Follmann just smiled, softly chuckled, and shook his head to indicate something along the lines of “No, sorry to kill your dreams.”

From that time forward I started to seriously wonder if I really wanted a degree that would ultimately land me analyzing numbers at a computer. My advisor and professors began telling me that I probably didn’t actually want a Wildlife Biology degree. Classes seemed less about wildlife and more about computer models and managing people. I wanted jobs in far-off places with limited access, unique topography, and animals in-hand.

Tim and Dave were also of the same mindset, and that semester became the separation point. Dave was already transferring to the U of Alaska Southeast in Juneau, where he was planning on taking Kayaking as a Recreation course. While we’d be waiting on the computers to tell us what we were learning, Dave enjoyed torturing me by making paddling gestures to remind me he would soon be escaping from wildlife statistics. He also enjoyed weekly pre-season Minnesota Twins coverage during those labs. Tim proved to be the most stubborn of us 3, as he graduated from UAF with a Wildlife Biology degree. Dave ended up studying, living with, and writing about whales and his adventures.

My idea of an interdisciplinary degree was probably hatched during this semester. I recognized the disconnect between the exciting title “Wildlife Biologist” and reality. While I respect data, I acknowledged I’d rather collect it than analyze it. Taking Wildlife courses, along with Natural Resource Management and Photojournalism courses, to create a Nature Photojournalism degree sounded much more appealing. While I happened to choose study subjects that pay nothing (wildlife fieldwork) and cost a lot of money (photography), I’m absolutely content being a wildlife field technician.

Honestly, it’s not at all about the money. It’s about the experiences, which is why I’ll likely never have much money in life. (But I do have a scar from an endangered species.) The perk of remote fieldwork is that I don’t spend money for months and when I do return to civilization, I can check out my bank account and go, “Oh hey, they paid me to have fun! How wonderful!”

Even if it’s raining – or perhaps especially? – I’ll laugh when out in the field. I can’t envision doing that while sitting at a computer.

Once this last summer at Tutakoke I was racing some awfully dark storm clouds before a short boat ride back to camp. As I maintained my power stance through vision-limiting rain, I got drenched on that short jaunt. Then I awkwardly sprinted through the rain and wind to visit our neighboring camp. Just because.

I’d say I won the race.

Read Full Post »

Following an exhilarating day of grain sampling (looking for good kernels and cobs of corn inside certain plots in a cornfield) and field condition surveys (listing crop, post-harvest condition, and relative stages of flooding), I went for a sunset run.

Then life made me laugh. Right before I headed out the door to run, the power went off. Thinking it would probably be back on by the time I returned, I didn’t consider a lack of hot water for showering.

Well, I ended up stretching in the dark. Kelsey had also gone running, and Emily had rummaged through corn duff and dirt earlier; we all needed showers before heading up to Sacramento for the evening. (Or did we? We are en route to check out Bacon Fest…)

More importantly, I had a partial pint of Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Therapy in the freezer. I’d exercised excellent self-control and made it last the week, but when God turns off the power and tells you to finish your ice cream, it’s best to listen. The 3 of us happily consumed the last 1/4.

Fortunately we’re a trio of wildlife field technicians. Kelsey pulled out a lighter and lit the gas stove to heat water for Tutakoke-style bathing. While I was smiling about our headlamp-lit house and bathing in the dark, the power returned for about 10 seconds. I realized I could start up the water and switch to normal showering, but I didn’t want that luxury when I was already in the minimalist mindset. Although I did exclaim, “That was a tease!” when the power flickered back off, I couldn’t keep myself from smiling.

Read Full Post »

shoesAt the end of every Runners’ World issue, “I’m A Runner” features a somewhat known figure who is also a runner; the page summarizes their history or interest in running. As a high school cross country runner, outdoor adventurer, wildlife field researcher, and introvert; consider this my 2 cents’ worth.

While growing up I remember thinking I was pretty good at pushing the merry-go-round. Although that was ages ago and a pretty minor aspect of life, that’s when running probably initially crossed my radar. Fast forward through 4 years of playing soccer as one of 1 to 3 other girls on a co-ed team and 8 years of community softball.

Then I hit high school, where I made the mistake of participating in marching band my freshman year. Yes, I made friends in a largely unknown student body, but I also lost months of my life to a pursuit that didn’t hold my interest. After trying band for a year, I wanted out.

Despite the fact that the band “needed me” and “nobody quits band,” I turned and literally ran away. Having met my now close-friend Manda and learning about cross country running through her, I joined my high school’s cross country team and thereby enjoyed the fall season of my 3 remaining years of high school by running in the woods.

xc team

Sophomore year WLC XC team

I was an average runner my sophomore year, seemingly peaked my junior year with a PR of 20:50 for a 5K, and was between very good and above average my senior year. Unfortunately I missed my chance to possibly qualify for states when I pulled my hamstring in the week before regionals of my junior year. Instead of hoping for a top 20 finish, I was lucky to come in second-to-last as I limped my way through the race. Regardless of my placing, running had become part of my life.

Many people run for the competition. Some run to stay fit. Others run for a hobby and the companionship it brings. Some run as a means of exploration. Tradition keeps some people running. Other runners use the benefits of exercise to blow off steam or de-stress. I believe most people run because it simply makes them happy.

So as a random has-been competitor with shins that generally hate running on pavement, why do I run? I run because time spent running provides me with some of my best thinking time and also makes me feel alive. I also love it when people tell me “You’re crazy” for enjoying just a standard run. I’ve come to define myself as an “around the corner” or “end of the road” girl. Whether I’m running, hiking, biking, driving, or walking; I often can’t make myself turn around until I see what’s around the next corner, and then the next, and then the next… Eventually I remind myself that I have to get back to where I started.

As I run my brain seems to wake up and start making sense of various questions I’ve been pondering. I frequently have mental and verbal conversations with myself while running. Believe it or not, I even yell at myself in the middle of discussions with myself. During any given run I may make grunts of frustration or bust out laughing as I think through something. When I was up at UAF I thought up an entire speech based on running for a Communications class (while running). If I could have a thought recorder, I’d have journal or blog entries written by the end of most runs.

Sometimes I listen to music, and sometimes I just run. My go-to running music? “The Lion King” soundtrack. How can you not get jazzed to take off when you picture the rising sun and hear “Nants ingonyama bagithi Baba?” Listen to the build-up at 2:30 of “This Land” and 2:25-the end of “Under the Stars.” I can simultaneously get chills and have the feeling that I can power through anything with those songs.

My running regimen has come in sporadic segments ever since high school, but the ability to go running is one of few perks of being in town. As long as I have appropriate footwear, running lets me go anywhere and actually see places! I’ve been running through Isengard (regional park outside Wellington), running in -26F, and running on mud flats of the Bering Sea coast. Although my shins may not always smile with each run, the rest of me does. Because there are many times in life when I just feel like running.


Post-race, senior year regionals

Read Full Post »

I’m doomed. While in NZ I discovered that author Bill Bryson writes highly entertaining books, and many of them just happen to be about his travels. I’ve read a fair number of them since, and a friend just passed on another to me: Neither Here nor There: Travels in Europe.

I knew I’d be in trouble dreaming up trips before I even cracked open the book. Bryson didn’t fail to meet expectations, as I found myself wondering where exactly his first stop – Hammerfest, Norway – is on a map. He opens the book with:

“In winter, Hammerfest is a thirty-hour ride by bus from Oslo, though why anyone would want to go there in winter is a question worth considering. It is on the edge of the world, the northernmost town in Europe, as far from London as London is from Tunis, a place of dark and brutal winters, where the sun sinks into the Arctic Ocean in November and does not rise again for ten weeks.”

My response? I want to go!! Then he makes the draw even stronger by making comments about other passengers and a rest stop in “Where the Fuck, Finland.” I want to go to WhereTF, Finland! First off, its actual name is Muonio. Secondly, middle of nowhere tiny towns tend to make me laugh.

I’ve found that certain Finnish tendencies run in my blood. I’m an introvert, I love taking real saunas and then jumping in cold water (Lake Superior or the Tutakoke River), and I don’t mind the dark or cold of snowy winter. Also, check out the look of the Muonio region, the area of Finland that supposedly has the longest snow season. Now check out the look of Interior Alaska – minus the large mountains. Coincidence? I think not. Both places are essentially boreal forest and northern lights. Hmm, Fairbanks may have been my destiny.

Reading this book can’t be healthy for me, seeing as I’ve already looked up places on maps, searched for pictures, and wondered about airfare. Although my interest in travel may be a bit extreme, nobody in my family can call me strange. Wanderlust is in my blood.


My Dad on a trip to the Grand Canyon


Read Full Post »

Older Posts »