Body Modification & Naked Gardening

wrist dermal anchor piercing

I don’t know if I’m fully a member of the body modification community ( I certainly don’t feel badass enough for that), this week I did become the proud new owner of two dainty wrist piercings (known as microdermal anchors). One centered on each wrist. They’ll be my 6th and 7th piercing to date, if I include my now-defunct tongue piercing. My ears are the ones I care for the least. My nose is the one that I love and identify with the most, and my navel piercing feels so nostalgic…a reminder of my first real rebellion against my parents (whey have this fundamentalist belief against body piercings/tattoos). I was 18, in high school, and got it pierced a few hours before a track meet. Yes, I was crazy.

Why get my wrists pierced you might ask? Well, I’ve been wanting a new piercing for awhile (last one was my nose and it happened in 2003, so it’s been awhile) and I’m not a huge fan of earrings and I already have my navel and I don’t need any sparkles on my face detracting from my lovely nose hoop. When I saw these on that bridesmaids wrists I thought “oh, that is so beautiful” and “it’s just like Jesus piercings.” When I explained that to Boof he cocked his eyebrow, but whatever, I can have a crazy strange emotional reaction to something and roll with it. I didn’t get them to be like Jesus, per se, but this strange emotional connection of piercings on a wrist done in a way that turns pain into beauty just felt…fitting somehow. Like I can look down and feel this meditative quality to my jewelry in a way that a bracelet couldn’t provide.

As you can see, only a few days old and they seem to be healing quite nicely. I’m worried about their longevity, picking such an easily bumped place (especially with a rambunctious 18 month old toddler), but I have high hopes that they’ll last for at least 6-9 months. The piercer said average is about that long, but his friend has had hers for 8 years. We’ll see!

So, I’m the body mod mama who lets her son garden naked on a sunny day.

Toddler Gardening

A little gardening fun

he’s for hire

Death of the the Easter Bunny

our juniper bush murdered the Easter bunny

“Hey! After much research on the internet, I think we’ve figured out that the skull from the juniper bush was a rabbit! I think it was the Easter bunny!” I said loudly to my in-laws on Sunday.
“Well, better than Santa Claus,” my mother-in-law retorted.

She’s referencing my childhood that was void of all things Santa, but seriously, yes, a human skeleton of any type, let alone the jolly old elf himself, showing up in my backyard would be creepy as hell. Especially since we know that one of the owners DIED in our house. She was old, though, and not related to Santa in any way. So, short of having some human burial ground in our backyard, coming across an animal skeleton was a step better.

Though, typically, dead animals freak me out.

I mean, really freak me out.

Like I have a 6th sense for taxideried mounts and have yet to be disproven by my proclamation “there’s dead animals here.” Usually Boof looks at me like I’m crazy, but then sure enough the person’s house or the antique shop or the random restuarant will, in fact, have some type of taxidermied animal on display (or chucked in a bin with antique dolls and old shoes), and I will proudly exclaim “told you so,” to my scoffers. I’m pretty sure I was the only child who listed “dead buffalo” as a fear. Not live buffalo. Dead buffalo (who, coincidentally I believed haunted our hallways, though taxidermied animals had never ‘set foot’ in our house).

So, coming across a skull, in my backyard would normally leave me screaming or crying or feeling a sort of panicky-can’t-get-my-breath moment. For some reason, maybe wanting to be strong for my toddling son, I became fascinated. And I pulled the skull out of the pile of decaying juniper needles, dug around and found a few more bones, and placed it on our deck to research later. Because, it makes a difference, right, if it was a large rat (Boof’s first guess) or a gopher (my guess) or…The Easter Bunny.

I wasn’t allowed to believe in Santa Claus as a kid because my mom’s parents had let her believe until she was about 12. And then she thought they were liars and then she had a crisis of faith wondering if GOD existed because she couldn’t see Him and maybe he was just like Santa and the whole thing was a sham. Boof, on the other hand, has fond memories of the Santa presents and the whol rigamarole that surrounded it as a kid. It might cause us to get a divorce because I am staunchly anti-Santa and he is marginally pro-Santa, but my in-laws feel judged and sad that I am so anti-the-whole-thing. They also say I’m a hypocrite (in not such nasty words) because I’m fine with believing in mermaids and fairies and the Easter Bunny. And they don’t understand why my parents encouraged Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy beliefs but were so staunchly anti-Santa.

At any rate, after much googling, it appears the skull is more on par with a rabbit than a rat (phew) or gopher (meh). My mind begins to wonder, though, if the rabbit lived in our backyard and died of old age? Or did he get scared and find shelter under the junipe bush and then it MURDERED him with its insidious juniperyness? Or maybe it was injured and suffered because of a dog-bite and died a mere few feet from where help could have potentially saved it. Or maybe it was so outraged by the Cadbur Egg prices this year that it had a heart attack.

I’ll never know the true story, but…what if? What if it was the death of the Easter Bunny? What if my backyard is a burial ground for other things, too? Eek!

Yardwork with a toddler

Potamus took his first legitimate steps (by himself, no prompting, no holding on and shuffling and then flinging himself wildly at the couch) outside. It somehow seems SO fitting for this little nature-obsessed buddy to decide that outside was a much more preferred venue to try his little shuffle step. What I love is that he was practicing without us prompting him, which makes me wonder what’s going on inside that little noggin of his. Does he want to perfect his walking skills and THEN show us? Or is the thrill of being outside, carrying a big stick and exploring the jungle of our backyard so enticing that he just cannot stand to crawl anymore? Whatever it is, it’s very fun to watch from afar at his progress. It feels like just over the few day weekend he has turned into quite an adventurous boy, and so very not much like my little baby anymore.

Our yardwork project is really a beginning of a several year process (yay) to get it to look the way we want. We’ve spent the last year talking about cutting down the laurel and holly bushes and putting in some bark. So my father-in-law came over with the chainsaw and helped us out, which was exciting to see so much progress, but just like any other spring cleaning process, the yard looks worse now, because of all the branches and debris, and now the slow cleanup process will begin to see what we have to work with! I’m hoping to lay bark this spring and then decide what low maintenence bushes to add into the mix!

And here’s to hoping the weather continues to hold…Seattle is so fickle this time of year!

Seattle Faux Spring

It was simultaneously a gorgeous day in Seattle, and a snowy one. Parts of the city were closed (like schools) because of snow, while where I was at it was gorgeously sunny! I was able to take a sweet hike through the arboretum with a friend visiting from San Francisco. We got side-tracked and ended up on a detour that took us down a steep muddy hill, which was good for laughs!

The rest of the day I spent gardening with Potamus in our yard. He was enjoying roaming around in his “camo” jammies, while I attacked the out-of-control laurel hedge! While I know that days are going to be more filled with rain than sun in the next few weeks, it was pretty nice to have the sun burst through!