run with turkeys

Instead of running with bulls, how about turkeys?

Missoula is a body-conscious, athletically competitive town.  The amount of time one spends on the slopes or on the river is worn like a badge.  These rugged people are real mountain killers, seeking out another peak to check off their list.  It seems that every month there is an opportunity to run around town with others to celebrate, in the most basic form, your individual athleticism alongside others in the community. It's fabulous, really.  For the athletic. So what if you aren't athletic?

I'm not a runner.  I ran as a kid, of course.  I ran break-necking around the brick corner of my childhood home, feeling wind on my face from my own speed, to reach the Oak tree in the front yard and touch 'home base' in a game of Ghost in the Graveyard.  I can still hear the swishing of my brother's bell bottom jeans as he chased me.  It was fun and I smiled when I ran then.  I remember that sense of wild freedom with each stride that propelled me forward.  And I ran at school.  I ran a teeny bit of track and I ran the required laps when training for Varsity tennis, but by the time I reached my teens, I didn't love it.  It never felt quite right.  

I quit running when I was still a teenager after a bought with pneumonia and a diagnosis of severe allergies and asthma. Many more battles with pneumonia to follow, I never started running again and I don't really want to run now.  I enjoy a walk or a hike instead and it's plenty for me (as long as I do it).  My asthma is well managed since living in Montana and I know that I could probably take up running if I want.  I'm surrounded by runners, a truly supportive bunch of athletes, by the way, so the possibility is on my mind regularly.  

Regardless, I make a great spectator at Fun Runs.  I cheer everyone on when they take off and I am ready, camera in hand, for their return (unless I'm keeping warm in a coffee shop and miss it, oops).  Sure, I shake my head and say they must all be crazy (which I am not taking back yet).  I complain about getting up early on a Saturday or going out in the cold, but watching the camaraderie is a treat.  It's inspiring even without running, especially when they are fundraisers. 

It was flipping COLD for the the Jingle Bell Run for Arthritis, so cold that I declared my presence for the event was an indication of my true love to Bruce.  Many people came out to show their support for the cause running for friends and loved ones.  I'm really impressed by the people with arthritis who run, too.  Right on!  (I learned a lot about Arthritis because of this Run.)

Runners are given bells to tie to their laces.

Others add more color and creativity to the event with silly costumes.  I always appreciate dressing up in costume!  Of course, you need some reindeer in a Jingle Bell Run.    

It's Missoula so dogs are often welcome, even at a run. (I saw four inside the Ace Hardware yesterday.) Proper doggie attire required for a Run, of course!

A man with arthritis walked his arthritic horse in this Run which I thought was pretty sweet.

Jingle Bell Run for Arthritis, Missoula, 2012

 ~ ~ ~

My favorite Run to watch in Missoula so far is the Annual Turkey Run on Thanksgiving.  It's such a day of sloth and abundance in our culture that a big run brings some balance in perspective, even if I only walk around as an observer.  It was a beautiful morning along the river for it this year with a dusting of snow.

Costumes abound in this Run, too.

And dogs, plus strollers and babies (for sure in the 3K, and I saw at least 3 strollers cross the line for the 8K, too.)

Yep, even a turkey!  This one was pretty dang fast, too.  

 

I had my eye on number 496.

 

So even though I do not run, I have decided that I like Fun Runs. The sight of Marathons freak me out.  People lurching, collapsing, and limping their way across the finish line illustrates how seriously intense a Marathon is.  A few naturals reach the end like a gazelle making it look easy, but most runners in a Marathon look like they are miserable and in pain.  Way more people are smiling in a Run. 

My take away message to date?  

A Marathon is for maniacs, but a Run really does rhyme with Fun.  

Follow this link to the Arthritis Foundation. 

Follow this link to Jingle Bell Run.

Follow this link to Run Wild Missoula.

Follow this link to see the Turkey Run results. 

Whenever you might visit Missoula, I would bet there's a Run happening.  And there is of course, the Missoula Marathon in the summer (click here for more information).

the last weekend of the season at Holland Lake Lodge

We are always coming and going and living a busy life, but this year especially has been full of busy travels.  We are fortunate to travel, but the trips aren't always true vacations and it's become clear that we need to make room for breaks.  

Living in Missoula, luckily we don't have far to go for a retreat in the woods.  Even so, we compete with the tourists and everyone else living here for reservations.  We have friends who are Masters of tracking availability of the best Forest Service cabins, getting in the rotation for reservations a year in advance and watching for cancelations.  We, however, are not such dedicated retreat planners.  We schedule trips for work or family visits, and vacations for ourselves are sandwiched into the calendar.  And for a trip to the woods, I've grown more and more into a Princess about amenities.  It doesn't have to be deluxe, but simply put: I prefer having hot showers and a bed.  Plus, if we venture into bear territory, (Hello! We live in Montana and bears live here, too), I won't sleep a wink if I'm laying in a tent.  The older I get, the further my camping days are behind me if I get to choose.  

So what's the easiest getaway solution for people like me?  

1) Cabins & 2) OFF SEASON.       

Holland Lake  © Toni Matlock. 2012

In the middle of October, we slipped away to Holland Lake Lodge for a low-key weekend of rest and relaxation.  Even with rain and fog, perhaps even more so because of the weather, it was a beautiful and romantic, getaway weekend.

We stayed in the cozy Griz Den cabin.  (Cabins are limited and coveted, so it's best to reserve them far in advance.  We got lucky calling only a week in advance for the last weekend of the season.)

Bruce at the Grizz Den cabin, Holland Lake Lodge, 2012

Our misty view  from our cabin.

If we had wanted a camp fire, there's a fire pit in front of the cabin on the Lake's edge.

I do enjoy cooking and even welcome the sparsity and challenges of camp-cooking, but I also appreciate after a hike and a shower to simply stroll up to a Lodge with a good restaurant for drinks and dinner. At Holland Lake Lodge I can expect to enjoy a simple menu of well-prepared food and a decent glass of wine.  The Lodge is an intimate structure originally built in 1924 with additions and remodeling from the 30s.  It's not overdone like the  casino- or resort-style 'western' lodges scattered around the Rockies. For this Goldilocks, it's 'just right' comfort in the woods. You get the luxury of a well prepared meal while nestled into a gorgeous setting with a fire crackling nearby.   (You can also get a room in the Lodge.) 

Holland Lake Lodge on a rainy day, October 2012

If you go, be sure to say hello to our new friend, Gary, a toad we met on our first night along the path by the Lodge gift shop. 

Gary, the Toad, Holland Lake, 2012

Walking around the Lake, look for birds of prey waiting around in the top of a snag, like this eagle.

 
You can hike an easy couple of miles up to the Falls, which looks something like this.  

Holland Lake Falls, Toni Maltock © 2012

See Bruce?  He's the tiny figure wearing a blue jacket in the lower left portion of the frame.  He went ALL the way up to within a few feet of the falls.

You can sit on big rocks and look at the falls or turn around and have a view of the Lake.

Nothing to sneeze at, eh?  As the clouds shift the sunlight in and out, we took a few snaps to commemorate the rejuvenating weekend.

Then we scrambled back down this path to the Lodge for drinks and a delicious dinner.

Studio Note: Holland Lake is one of the primary locations for the art video that I made titled 'you don't hear me'.  A sample of that video is on my art website, ToniMatlock.com, (click) here.

Full disclosure: We are friends with the owner of Holland Lake Lodge, Christian, so we we can't help but have a behind-the-scenes appreciation of the Lodge's history and its operations.

For more photos of the Lodge, go to their Facebook fanpage, or follow their blog. Visit the HollandLakeLodge.com website for reservation information for next Spring or Summer. 

the mini polaroid friend-maker and gift box

Many years ago I participated in a large art event in Seattle and as a contributing artist I attended the opening gala event. I hardly knew anyone.  I'm not afraid of people and no one would consider me to be a shrinking violet, but making myself meet a lot of new people at once takes me a lot of energy and I don't feel that I'm very good at it.  But that time, I was armed with my newest toy: a mini-polaroid camera that hung by a strap from my wrist.  The pictures from this camera were about as long as my thumb.  As I stood in lines or lingered on the edge of groups of people, I offered to take a photo of others. I gave them their instant party documentation and while it developed we visited.  The instant camera was an ice-breaker and the gesture of giving out photos helped put me at ease.  It was an excellent socializing prop for me.  

The lesson stuck with me.  An instant photo became one of my favorite gifts.  They work for any occasion.  In the midst of a casual dinner gathering, an immediate and even awkward photo from an instant camera can offer a modest, tangible token to remember a moment.  Hardly anyone is immune to the charm and magic of holding the photo in hand as the polaroid processing works and checking it now and then to see the image emerge.   What's more, is that there's no digital back up.  It won't be on Facebook or Flickr. That's it. The clumsy photo of you with a paste-on moustache that fits in the palm of your hand becomes more precious. Now I have a little collection of instant cameras and keep one handy in the kitchen.  I definitely break it out for our salty snack studios release parties. 

Last year, I took my Fuji Instax Mini to a good friend's wedding and let it help me introduce myself to my friend's other friends.  It was a no-gift wedding with many friends contributing to the event - flowers and photography and all - as their gift.  I gave away many instant photos to guests but I also made sure to save a stack of the small humble snapshots for the bride and groom.  

Later, I made an instax mini photo keeper out of a metal band-aid box to give my newly married friends.  I kept the decoration simple and lean using spray paint, washi tape and ribbon on the outside.

I made a ribbon pull to help ease the photos out of the box.

I left the photos loose, so they could be held, shuffled and rearranged like a deck.

To soften the landing for the photos as they get tossed in and out of the box and for a festive little surprise, I glued tiny pom-poms inside on the bottom.  And on the outside bottom, marked the year for the photos.

Of course, the mini polaroid gift box isn't a substitute for a proper wedding photo album, it's such a big special occasion and the quality of the instant photos can be so hit or miss, but it does make a humble compliment to it. 

good things come about

Today I'm contemplating how sometimes good things just come about.  Opportunities arise.  Projects emerge.  And without even trying, often our role in a project or in the world just presents itself.  You just can't see what all might be coming and there are true rewards in being open to new possibility.  Having some flexibility in your plan can pay off. 

It's inspiring to consider for a moment.  So I am.

This short video of Bill Wallauer explaining how he became a filmmaker with the Jane Goodall Institute is a good example of it.  The smile on this guy's face as he talks about it says a lot.

  

fluke the whale

I had a whale of a dream.  Literally.  I'll spare you any play-by-play recount of the dream (so I'm not one of those people), but I'll have you know that glorious creepy adventure in my sleep made a deep impression on my conscious self.  Since I woke up I haven't stopped thinking about it.  I've been trying to replicate the main character, a cartoon baby whale, in drawings but I just can't. I can still picture him standing on a dock, but he's un-drawable. What I dreamt and what I draw can never match.  

It's just how it is.  

Fine, I say. It hasn't stopped me from making my wonderful whale friend more tangible for myself anyway.  I've reinvented him, see:

Dream Whale © Toni Matlock 2012

With such a boxy head, apparently he's a Sperm Whale.  I can't decide if he should be blue, yellow or green.  In the dream, he was a rich glowing polychrome, but I don't feel my cartoon of him needs to be.  I'm leaning toward green at the moment.  What do you think?

Oh, and in case you are dying with curiosity for some details of the dream, let me just say it ended with a bumpy treacherous drive in the water's edge along a narrow strip of beach with people leaping out of the way (my brakes had gone out) until I hit a rock and came to a stop.  When I opened my car door, I felt a huge pang of fear that people were hurt, but everyone was gone. Then a big beach towel unfolded like a magic carpet in the sand in front of me with a spread of all different kinds of chocolate bars.  No doubt melted in their wrappers as hot and sunny as it was.  A happy ending nonetheless.

I'm not sure where my cartoons of Fluke the Whale (yes, I even named him) will lead, if anywhere, but like my dream, I'll keep watching and see.

snaps in the snow

We've gotten bundles of snow lately - a foot fell and accumulated over a few days.  

Because of it, I've been mostly huddled inside and peeking out the door.

Bruce lures me out for quiet walks in the snow.

The backstreets are still and it's a short serene walk to downtown. 

Our house looks smaller and cozier, like it's been carved out from under the snow.

The best walks are at night,

...when the snow glitters under the eerie blend of street and moonlight.

how I've stopped being a catalog cow

I really really don't like all of the catalogs delivered to me in my mail.  Especially when I start receiving mounds of them for baby clothes and toys when I don't have any children. Or worse, the catalogs geared to the elderly full of muumuu dresses and foot callous scrapers.  Great, thanks. I imagine that buying presents for nieces and nephews or friend's kids has put me on the list for children's merch, but what on earth did I ever buy that flagged me for geriatric?  Did a catalog fairy see me scuffling around the house in my velour track suit?  A giant tent dress does sound comfy....  Stop!  Get these marketing mind-reading bastards out of my house. 

It doesn't matter, really, how I got on any mailing list.  I just want it to stop.  

Except for a couple of art museum, gardening or home designer type catalogs, I recycle 99.9% of the catalogs that come to me and find it to be a massive waste of paper, time, and energy - mine, the earth's, the postal service's and so on.  Why should I be a cow shuffling catalogs from my post, sorting it to the trash or recycling, then hauling it off?  Or am I a dog playing fetch?   I don't feel playful about it. Whatever the analogy, I shouldn't have to touch it at all.  Maybe I'm just dreaming like a princess, but it's worth putting up at least a little fight.   I'm sure I'm preaching to the choir.  Almost everyone feels that they get too many catalogs, don't they?

Before I get off my soap box, I feel compelled to report on one thing that I've done that has helped.  A non-profit service called Catalog Choice has significantly helped reduce all the unwanted catalogs in my mail.  After about a year of new online or offline shopping, my address gets circulated again and I have to add some stop requests to my account or renew old ones, but it has helped. It hasn't completely stopped the catalogs coming, like my inner princess would like, but it's the best I've found so far. 

It's free for their main service, though they take donations (tax deductible). You can also find catalogs through them, too if you so desire (which sounds insane to me, but do as one wishes).  It could also make a good gift for the elderly or persons less inclined to get online and fight the catalog current for themselves. If you are interested, check them out HERE.  If you have any other suggestions, let's hear 'em.  This is one problem that I welcome a shotgun of solutions. 

oui, Paris

arrived, Charles de Gaulle airport, Paris, FR (taken with iPhone)

After the "100-year-old/good bones house remodel project" (even though there's still a bit left to do), my beau swept me off to Paris, France for a week.  

It was, how can I say? Tres magnifique!  

We returned last Friday. I'm still adjusting to the time (went to sleep before 9 last night and woke at 4am today) and adapting to the snowy weather, but mostly I'm gliding on the memory of the taste of fresh buttery pastries. 

Bruce, Rue Monge, Paris (taken with iPhone, adjusted with Tilt Shift Gen App)

I'll post photos and app reviews from the trip soon. Well after I rummage through about 800 photos. Plus I'll post about our previous trips to Boston, MA, Maine and Portland, OR.  And of course, more updates on the remodeling project in it's more finished state and the reflections that came with the project.

First evening's walk along the Seine river, Notre Dame across the river on the left

  

shellac and helen money

This past Sunday we shot video of Shellac playing in Missoula for Sustain, the Travis Bean Guitar Doc that we've been making.  

I met the guitarist, Steve Albini, when we interviewed him in Chicago but this was my first time seeing the band perform live and these guys know how to put on a show.  As ambivalent in attitude as they may seem in some of what I've read about them, their show absolutely pays attention to the audience with banter, momentum and  intensity.  At one point, Albini gnaws at his guitar strings as if it were a chicken leg.  But watching him, and I was directly in front of him zoomed in on the guitar strings at this moment, and hearing the sounds that result, he's almost elegant about it. Considering his straightforward, confidence and enjoyment making well-prepared food for his wife (I follow his cooking blog, 'Mario Batali voice',) his performance with a guitar makes sense.  Like he's lapping at a bowl of three-minute gazpacho.  He makes and enjoys his soup, and he'll share with you how to make it, too.     

Any decent footage that comes out of that dark, low-ceiling den called the Palace will be saved for our movie.  For now, here is a still photo of the band setting up.  Albini is in front wearing his trademark mechanic's jumper.

   

The opening act rocked too

Helen Money, a one-woman electrical cello band, opened for Shellac.  Her weighty notes were a revelation for me.  I bought her latest cd, In Tune, to ruminate over as autumn settles in.  

Here is 'Mondo' by Helen Money with animation by Nelson Chan.

To learn more about the movie we are making on Travis Bean Guitars click here. 

Both bands will be performing in California, Oregon and Washington in the coming days.  Please report back to me if you catch a show.

foxy shazam

My nephew, Nick, turned me onto some new noises.  I can't get enough of Foxy Shazam since he did.  It's like crossing Freddie Mercury with Jack White or something. 

So far I highly recommending listening to "Unstoppable" while scraping paint, sanding trim and patching plaster and occasionally pretend you are encased in white leotards.

surprise visitors

Last Thursday I got a text from someone in my family (who will remain unnamed to protect them) saying that my parents were getting on the road  Saturday to drive two thousand miles from Indiana to Montana and 'surprise' me.  I waited until Saturday and called Dick and Mabel, "Hey!  Sooo, what's up?"  They must have left Friday cause they were already on the border of Iowa and Illinois.  They giggled calculating their ETA to me.  

I had told them earlier in the spring that they shouldn't visit in July because it would conflict with other visitors and work projects.  Mom's been sick so  they missed June, I thought, and was now looking to August.  As soon as Mom was feeling better, they decided to hop in the car and get out to Montana before June ends! In three days. What goofy parents!  

I'm not really ready for them.  I had intended to shoot another interview with them for the Dick&Mabel project when they visited next, but I haven't prepped enough questions yet. I cleaned up a bit around the house - especially my studio/office -  and we'll see if I can scrap together an improvised interview.  They should be here tonight. I'm looking forward to it.

"Who've you been talking to today?" Dad dug for information over the phone.  

"Forget it, I'm not giving up my blood," I teased back. 

Thank you mysterious family member for the warning!  What if we left town to hike Glacier or something!?

love songs

A friend recently told me she didn't have any 'good' love songs in her music collection.  Apparently everything she had was depressing and more like a break-up song.  How sad is that?

To remedy the crisis, I pulled together a random selection of celebratory love songs from Camille Yarbrough, Cat Power to Cee Lo Green.  And other crooners whose names start with letters other than 'C'.

   Click to check out my "love songs" playlist on iTunes.

If you face such an emergency, when in doubt turn to Barry White.  He's a fast (and obvious but respectable) solution not included in the list.

I want to add more to the list, so please help me out. What are some of your favorite love songs?

springing native plants

We hiked around Crazy Canyon last weekend and my eyes almost popped out of my head it was such a deliriously packed blooming wild flower party.  It's very close to town up Pattee Canyon and close to my old house so when I lived nearer, I hiked it more often. Just crossing town for this hike felt like a greater refreshing retreat and the flowers totally sweetened the deal.

For more information on Montana Native Plants, I seriously recommend the Montana Native Plant Society.  It has been years since I made it to a weed pull, but I've been a member for years and no doubt, I will get more involved again. All of the people affiliated with them that I have met are enthusiastic and generous about plants and are a great resource.  They have annual garden tours and plant sales at the Farmer's Market. Even if you aren't in Montana, check out their links page for other states and especially the Native Plant Landscaping link for great information. 

Montana Native Flowers Snaps:

arrowleaf balsamroot

pussy toes

lupine

watch out for handsome wild animals sneaking up on you

indian paintbrush

beargrass

nodding onions about to bloom, pointing up among the shrubs

We saw a lot more that I didn't get very good photos of too.

all the color demands an even more cheerful, playful hike than usual. I think B was trying to help by dodging the camera here.

And finally......(drum roll, please)

 

lady slippers are bad-ass

Lady slippers knock me down they are so discreetly bold and elegant.


Native plant related resources:
Blackfoot Native Plants
Native Ideals Seed Company
Great Bear Restoration
Montana Native Plant Society