Four months I've neglected this poor blog. But enough of that.
Let me sum up...
The day before I left I had a toothache and my AC quit working. An emergency visit to dentist and a call to my HVAC friend T.B. put it all to rights. Thanks to T.B. for putting in a new fan on Tuesday (who would not tell me how much it cost! That got him a case of champagne), so the poor cats and sitter did not die of heat stroke while I was gone.
I left Durham for the wilds of Oregon and Washington on Tuesday, June 2 and right off the bat the joys of traveling presented themselves - my flight to Chicago was canceled before I even arrived at the airport. (random trivia - did you know the list of passengers is called the "soul list"?)
United did a good job of recovering, putting me on an American flight to DFW, then Alaska to PDX and gave me $14 worth of food vouchers to boot. Alaska Airlines was so great I sighed up for their mileage program. The 20 minute baggage guarantee was the clincher; I think it was less than 10 minutes before I was flying out the door to catch the shuttle to Salem. All in all, I was only 2 hours behind my original schedule. Not bad.
Thursday my sister and I headed up to Lyle, Washington, the nearest town to High Prairie. Beautiful day with amazing scenery along the Columbia gorge, watching all those crazy windsurfers.
After stopping in at the amazing cabin of our hosts for directions (follow the mowed path, turn right at the bluebird house), we arrived at our home away from home, a fantastic tricked out yurt (complete with icemaker!), with spectacular views of Mt. Adams and the tip of Mt. Hood, kindly loaned to us by a neighbor of the bride's parents.
Glamping at its highest level
Mt. Adams from the yurt deck
At night the skylight was full of stars
I could get used to that place. So quiet, nothing but the sound of insects and birds (wild turkeys!).
After oohing and aahing whist examining all the nooks and crannies of our lodging, we headed down to the big house, about a 10 minute stroll through the fields, to meet the rest of the family.
Much laughing was done on that front porch
Afternoon shadows on the goat barn
The Boy, The Most High Unicorn, and the Maid of Honor have a moment
Friday saw all of us hard at work - sorting through grasses and flowers gathered by aunts, friends, and cousins, filling vases with water, hanging bistro and fairy lights, sweeping, food prep, and a bunch of other stuff I've already forgotten.
More people arrived throughout the day - The Boy's almost step mother, who I hadn't seen since his sixth grade graduation (she is wonderful); his friend from Reno who came with a broken wrist because she didn't have time to set it before leaving (she broke it the night before playing softball); childhood friends; former neighbors; travel companions. There was laughing and hugging and meeting of old and new friends.
Cousin, aunt, and mother of the bride doing flower prep in the hay barn
Some finished vases lining the barn walls
Flower prep area still life
Daughter and mom hard at work with flower prep
MOB
Let me take a second to heap accolades on the Mother of The Bride. She planned for months and months - sorting out where people were staying, making arrangements, shopping for food, and any and every other detail that needed to happen. She did a spectacular job. Really, there are not enough words of praise.
At night we sat on the porch and laughed so hard The Boy bruised a rib. I may have spewed my hard cider, but just once. There were some funny, funny people there, one of whom was my sister (pretty AND funny!).
Saturday, the day of the wedding, dawned sunny, cloudless, with a lovely breeze, and thankfully 10 degrees cooler than was forecast. We did more prep in the morning and early afternoon - setting the tables for the reception, arranging flowers and rocks (from the couple's rock hounding obsession).
Everyone's labor of love
After getting dressed in our wedding finery, my sister and I missed a critical turn on the way down from the yurt which necessitated an approximately mile long very, very, very painfully slow backup up a hill in The Most High Unicorn's rental car.
I watched the minutes fly by while thinking on the extremely bad form it would be for the mother of the groom to be the reason the wedding started late, but we made it in time.
And I only freaked out a little bit.
The wedding party ladies received this beautiful silk scarf from the couple:
The men had ties with the same design.
We clambered on to our transport to the wedding site (thank god for that ladder):
That's me standing on the far left
Our awesome driver, cousin of the bride (I love her so much)
Mt. Adams from the "altar"
Altar flower close up
The wedding venue
The wedding music was the theme song from "The Princess Bride". The officiant, The Most High Unicorn, did the entire bit from the movie exactly like Peter Cook before launching into the vow portion.
Mwarriage
Ring exchange. The rings were made by a New Zealand artist, Ash Hilton,
of reclaimed ethical gold and recycled stones.
The married couple
The Boy cried. The best man had to get him a Kleenex, which I happened to have. My eyes welled up but did not spill over, I'm happy to report, because people, I am not a pretty crier.
Cousin, father, mother of bride, and the ecstatic couple
The bride and groom and me
The Boy and his dad
Three gorgeous ladies: the bride, her aunt, and her cousin
Goat barn through flower vases
Tucking into a strawberry cupcake
The reception was wonderful; many people said lovely words and made people cry. There was much good food. And company. And cake (who suffered a wee accident traveling on the washboard roads). And cupcakes (lemon pistachio and strawberry cream cheese).
A toast!
After dark, we wandered off to our beds, full of love and good cheer.
The next day we headed down to the big house one last time to say our goodbyes. Phone numbers, emails, business cards, and hugs were exchanged in large numbers.
Sadly, there was one causality right before we left; the sweet little farm dog Zoe, was bit on the face by a rattlesnake. She is making a good recovery and hopefully will have little to no nerve/tissue damage. (You could say a wee prayer to the dog gods for her if so inclined)
Doesn't know she was bred to be a lap dog
The rest of the week I spent with my sister and brother in law, wandering around Silverton, Corvallis, and Salem.
I dropped quite a bit of cash in the Lunaria Gallery in Silverton after lunch at Mac's Place.
Our table view at Mac's
Corvallis was great. Vibrant downtown. Much shopping was fueled by a huge breakfast at The Broken Yolk.
Got to hang out for a few hours with my niece, her kidlets, and chickens.
Urban chickens
It was a great trip. Full of family, friends, and lots of laughter.
(photo credits: B.Q., S.K., R.C., L.C., me, and probably many others)
As full as my head is of thoughts, how is it I get here so rarely anymore to write them down?
Lazy, I suppose.
Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up.
December - January was tough. Full of the sadness. Self loathing. Self destruction. Some years grief decides to kick one upside the head. It sure did this past year, starting in October. There were about six people in the entire world that I could stand to be around for longer than a minute. Mostly they were the ones who just let me be.
Yeah. Pretty much.
You know how people look when they walk into a spider web? The flailing desperate attempts to GET IT OFF? That's how I felt - about people.
Deactivated Facebook for a time and when I came back, I deleted 70 plus people. From high school. That I knew 23 years ago and with whom I no longer have anything in common. Friends of friends of friends. Children of friends. Friends of my parents. People who love the Second Amendment or whatever that gun one is. People who were virulent about any position on any damn thing. You're welcome to think that way (I hold those types of positions on some things myself and have probably been defriended because of them), but frankly my dears, you made me tired.
And you know what? When the purge was done, I felt relieved.
The ascent out of The Pit of Despair is now well under way.
In other news, through Ancestry and DNA, there's a new cousin, Trudy. We are fourth cousins, once removed. Her husband is experiencing some memory impairment and she has started a blog: The Slings and Arrows of Life. It's good. Check it out.
Today is a snow day. Actually more of an ice slush day.
The poor people in Boston (and New Hampshire and Maine) - I can hear their eyes rolling back in their heads from here.
In other news, I MIGHT be going to Burning Man. MIGHT. Already missed the first registration. But just completed the volunteer application in the tradition of positive thinking.
OH! The Boy and The Girl are getting married in June. My sister is my plus-one. We're super excited because we're staying in a yurt. (it's surprising at how many people don't know what a yurt is.)
This is a tough time of year. As posted on the Book of Faces earlier this week, it feels like I'm wearing a wet wool cape that presses me with chronic low-grade heft toward the ground.
A man I knew, not well, but knew just the same, died on Monday of a brain tumor. He was young, in his forties, leaving four children.
Three years ago, my mother's diminishing ramped up, hurtling us all to her death on December 7.
A friend is stuck (when you're in it, stuck seems for all the world like a big T truth), in an abusive relationship.
There are deeper, older scars which also start to itch this time of year.
Pile on world events like Ferguson, the anniversary of Sandy Hook, beheadings, UVA rapes, Bill Cosby, and that cape gets more and more cumbersome.
There is a lot of sighing coming out of my mouth, most of it heavy. There is some spontaneous
crying, like earlier today when I saw a vehicle from Clairbridge, where Mom lived out her final days.
The side read "Your story continues here..." Maybe it did, but what a sad story.
I'm eating too many bad things. Drinking too many bad things. Not exercising enough.
Trying to become comfortably numb.
The return trip to Puget Island was non-eventful, in spite of stop and go traffic down Mt. Hood through Sandy. Not bad considering it was Sunday on Fourth of July weekend.
There was the slightly desperate portion where Helga choose to have her charger portal stop charging - meaning the battery was getting dangerously low and I needed the GPS - a minor inconvenience (not!). I stopped at a Fred Meyers in Sandy where a nice young man (god that makes me sound old) in the electronics section let me charge up. During that time OSD was able to relay a crucial bit of information about the tricky 205 North to Seattle exit. Thank god, because it IS tricky. Once I got to Longview, it was all good.
It was a hot (Helga has no aircon), long drive and I was pretty beat when we pulled into the compound late afternoon. OSD took me to Skamokawa (just down the road) to the Duck Inn for dinner. We chatted with Tori, our bartender/server over some fantastic halibut and chips.
The next day, Monday, there was an opening for fishing on the Columbia River, 7 PM - 7 AM, 8" mesh.
We spent the day getting the boat ready, switching out gill nets, in between dealing with J., OSD's 75 year old friend who's moving-on-down-the-dementia-path. OSD called on my road trip to tell me that J's wife had moved out. Lots of drama.
J. hadn't been eating (coffee and cigarettes) since his wife left (plenty of back story here. No judgment.). OSD's cunning plan was to have J. take me to breakfast; I'd make sure he ate something and pump him (discretely, of course) for information on the marital situation. Another caper!
J. took me to Duck Inn (again). When we came back, he said he was going to take the dog home, (she kept OSD company while we dined), and come back to help with the nets. Apparently he forgot where to find us (we were across the road on the slough). We heard him drive up to the house and then a bit later, drive off, without coming across the road to the boat. Oh, J.
Smooth as glass. Evening on the slough. (photo credit J.)
Gill nets on the reel.
See those floats? Nets don't come with them, they have to be sewn on with a net needle. The bottom also has to be sewn on; it takes days to complete a net. For gillnetting you need many nets of different sizes. It's a bit impressive that OSD taught himself gillnetting. For 35 years he seined, a completely different kettle of fish, so to speak. Heh.
Gillnetting will be illegal on the Columbia in a few years, they're switching over to seining. It's easier to control what fish are taken with seining and endangered fish can be returned to the river.
OSD has cleverly modified his boat to be able to do both kinds of fishing. When it's time to seine, the reel comes off as well as part of the railing, so the seine net can "roll" onto the boat. (I bet he thinks I wasn't paying attention).
Okay, enough boring boat talk.
Net in process
Being on a metal boat, on the water, for several hours, during prime sun time, with no sunscreen, gave me the second worst sunburn of my life. So stupid.
Glad the dermatologist visit was BEFORE going on vacation.
Pristine no longer applies
OSD had many of these Victorinox (Vicky) knives lying around. They're sharp, cheap, and versatile. One of my jobs on the boat was standing by with one of these in case he got tangled in the net.
Vicky knife
After several hours readying the nets we ran "over town", as they say, for ice and supplies. A wee nap and a brief tutorial on the radio and radar later, we got underway.
Taken by L. as we passed her house. I may have been driving (piloting?) here.
The captain (I love this picture)
We kept an eye on the navigation app (think that's what it was) for container ships in the channel - you do not want to be in their way.
Even though she was far away, her wake rocked our boat pretty hard.
We did six - seven sets (when the net is in the water). Wish I'd taken a picture of the ones at night. There was a 3/4 moon, no clouds, the river was calm. It was just beautiful.
Our first set.
Because I didn't have a crew license (kind of silly to spend $135 for one foray), my instructions were to go in the cabin if the police came (they do regular checks) and not to touch the net. So when on deck, I just stood by, Vicky knife at the ready. I did do some steering (HARD LEFT!) and some Mark Twaining (Twenty feet. Eighteen feet. Fifteen feet. TEN FEET! EIGHT FEET!), as we laid the net out in shallow water. Cooked an omelet, made coffee. You know, first mate shit.
We landed two fish, caught one (get the distinction?). Did I get a picture of it? Nope. OSD said it was probably only ten pounds, it sure seemed bigger to me. It was after 1 AM when we decided to call it a night. We anchored out of the channel near the top of the slough.
Good morning from the Columbia River.
Tuesday was recovery day after Monday's hard work, sunburn, going to bed late, and getting up early.
FYI, boats are not that comfortable for sleeping, or at least this boat wasn't. Whacked my head several times on the bunk above me (remember? you cannot sit up in here) and got a crick in my neck.
OSD cleaned and filleted our catch, promising that this salmon would change my opinion. (Many salmon spawning field trips with our father colored my view. Plus it can taste too fishy sometimes.)
We visited A.and L. (she took the picture of the boat on the river) for a few minutes. They are also friends with J., and involved in that drama. (A. made the Adirondack chairs. They're lightweight and beautifully made. Not surprising, as A. is a master boat builder.) She was making potato salad and it gave us the hankerin' for some; she gave us a jar of her delicious bread and butter pickles to add to ours.
I had to be channeling both my parents (my mother prepped/cooked all the ingredients, my father made the dressing), because that was the best damn potato salad I've made in awhile - got me right in the gill slits. It was a bit mustardy for OSD, but what's he know about potato salad? He's not Southern.
He cooked the salmon simply, just avocado oil, salt and pepper. It was very good. Delicate, as he put it. Mild, not at all fishy. I had a big slab and a healthy portion (or two) of the potato salad.
My last day of vacation Helga and I went back to Astoria. Took in the Columbia River Maritime Museum, which is well worth the price of admission. The first section is on the Coast Guard. Their rescue swimmers and SAR teams are trained in Astoria - the roughest water in the world is where the Columbia meets the Pacific. Coast Guard stuff makes me tear up; it's as close as I get to being patriotic.
Life size. Inside the Columbia River Maritime Museum.
The real thing
The rest of the museum is just as good - the history of the area, indigenous people, fur trade, logging, fishing. Many interactive displays (put on a rescue suit in one minute; pilot a tugboat). Admission to board the Lightship Columbia is included with the museum ticket.
After a few hours in the museum, I walked a few blocks over to Commercial Street. There were some stores I'd bookmarked for further perusal when I was in Astoria the first time.
FinnWare for one (shhh...the Finns are not Scandinavian according to DNA), RiverSea Gallery for another. This had to be my second favorite gallery of the trip. Fantastic space. Lovely art. Great jewelry. Becky was fun, patient, let me look at/touch/try on at about a gazillion pieces before finally choosing a necklace by Calliope.
Of course, a trip to Astoria required a stop at Lindstrom's Danish Maid Bakery to pick up some treats for OSD.
Stop in and say hi to Olga
Goodbye Oregon
The view from Helga's window
Upon my return, OSD decided a knot tying lesson was in order. (knot tying went much better than the learn-to-drive-a-stick-shift.) The Bolan (bowline?) knot. The rabbit goes in the hole...
After I'd completed the lesson to his satisfaction, we went over town to the harbor and wandered around looking at sweet sailboats, sexy sloops (I like a sloop), and fat cabin cruisers. I took pictures of none of them.
Perfection
Like the color and pattern in this.
And again in this one.
J. came over for a few hours. OSD tried to help him understand the gravity of his situation, (she's not coming back and you need to learn how to do these things.), offering to help sort out his bills, etc. (I'm scared)
He'd called her 61 times in one day and didn't remember doing it. It was just the saddest thing.
While they talked, I made an apple crisp from the apple trees in the yard. Kind of therapeutic.
K. came over later and we had a rousing discussion of all things political. With apple crisp a la mode to soothe our souls.
The next day, after a breakfast of apple crisp and coffee, OSD dropped me off at the airport.
My flight to SFO was delayed as was the flight from SFO to RDU. Second verse, same as the first...
And that, dear tiny group of readers, is what I did on my summer vacation.
After much cunning planning, I escaped my prison of hard labor. (I joke. I was very well cared for; there were daily naps, big fat steaks perfectly cooked for me, cocktails refreshed on the hour, and lots of laughing.)
Oh the humanity.
Helga the Volvo and I took the Ferry Wahkiakum (ten minutes) over to Oregon. Twenty-seven miles to Astoria, then picked up Hwy 101 South to where The Boy and Girl live.
The Boy
It was a lovely drive with light traffic in spite of it being a Friday; the weather was only mildly drizzly. Along the roadside, masses of lupin and digitalis clumped in wild lanky pinkness. Maybe it's the lack of humidity or the closeness of the ocean, but even though NC has plenty of trees, the air there smells greener somehow, lighter, fresher.
The Boy looks good, being sober (two years!) suits him. That and the love of a good woman. His hair is long and he wears in a man bun (a mun?). The Girl is delightful; strong, adventurous, centered, pretty, kind. I like her so very much. They are yin and yang. My grand dogs are sweet and welcoming. The business (doggie daycare and boarding) is going well; this past year has been a struggle with having to relocate unexpectedly, but they handled it with grace and aplomb. I'm very proud of them.
Some of the clients. The pretty shepherd is one of my grand dogs.
Road's End Beach
We talked and laughed and ate for two days. On Sunday, with absolutely gorgeous weather, we had a mini family reunion with aunts and cousins and brother-in-laws and nephew-in-laws and talked and laughed and ate some more.
My nephew-in-law, brother-in-law, and sister
The Girl felt welcomed, which made me very happy. My sister baked our mother's (great grandmother's recipe) blueberry cake. (Mom always made it for the family reunions, it's not a real reunion without it.)
Great Grandmother's Blueberry Cake (cake/photo T.A.W.)
Monday I loaded up Helga, sadly said good-bye to the kidlets and headed east to to the middle-ish of the state to my sister's for more family fun time!
A picnic at Silver Falls with my niece and family. Flat tires!
Sap waterfall
Lunch at Mac's Place and retail therapy with my sister in Silverton and Salem.
The Pretty One
Barfing Barbies!
www.thebarbielady.com
Hanging at Wal-mart with my brother in law.
Best. Time. Ever.
All too soon, Helga and I were on the road again heading southeast over "the hill", as those funny Oregonians call the Cascades.
The Sisters
In Sisters, where they were preparing for the quilt show (apparently Sisters is equivalent to Mecca for quilters), I caught up with my dear friend Eileen over a delightful lunch at The Open Door.
Afterward we strolled the town, popping into art galleries and coffee shops. We had a hilarious conversation with Patricia Freeman-Martin at Hood Avenue Art Gallery about her prehistoric cat print, "What don't you like about it?" Well for one thing, it doesn't look like a cat. "It's prehistoric."
(P.S. I wouldn't have bought it with your money.)
She had a great sense of humor and made me a terrific deal on a print I DID like (Leopard Steer).
One of the many quilts in Sisters.
A too fast few hours later it was time for me to set the GPS for Redmond and my home away from home for the next three nights.
Linda is my anam cara (soul friend); we've been friends for many years, through heartache, betrayal, and happiness. This visit I was meeting her husband (Jeffery) of three years for the first time. I'm happy to report that we liked each other immensely. The fact that he ADORES her in the way she should be adored was a big factor.
Twenty-one days is the amount of time it takes to start a new habit. Sadly, that is the amount of time I was on vacation. My new habit(s) are nothing conducive to being back in the real world, I can assure you.
The trip didn't start off well; bad storms over Chicago necessitated refueling in Louisville, KY (after circling Midway for quite awhile), which caused a missed connection to Portland and afforded me the opportunity to spend the night in the airport (we landed in Midway eventually), as all hotels were booked within a thirteen mile radius. I arrived in Portland, looking less than optimal, about twelve hours later than planned.
The OSD collected me (and kindly did not bring up the less than optimal looking); we headed to Ikea for lunch and some light shopping (dishes, glassware, a rug), Best Buy for a sound system for the speedboat. Around to his daughter's to collect the giant Tahoe (Mary Jane) I was driving back to Washington (rush hour traffic!), so he could drive his daughter's car home, as it needed some work.
An hour and half later we arrived.
Vodka and tonic view
Friday we went into Astoria to do "big shopping" (Costco and Home Depot, with no sales tax) and a bit of sightseeing. If you happen to end up in Astoria, the Columbia River Maritime Museum is well worth the trip.
The mouth of the Columbia River from the top of the Astoria Tower
Seven days were whiled away on the riparian homestead, but not at all idly. There was putting carpet and the sound system in the speedboat; transplanting plants into the garden; planing and shellacking trellis parts for the pergola; cleaning and reorganizing the kitchen (that took most of two days); brush and tree trimming.
There was a brush fire incident one evening, but it was quickly brought under control. We assured the policeman who slowly drove past that it was in fact, intentional. It was a mostly true statement...
(Cocktails and flame throwers - not an ideal combination.)
Well that escalated quickly.
I spent an afternoon wandering around the small village of Cathlamet talking to artists and coffee shop workers, while the task master was in Portland removing a tree limb from a friend's roof.
A full day off was garnered for good behavior ("good effort"), so Helga the Volvo (who would be my boon companion the next week) and I went into Portland to meet Alice and Andrea of Go Ask Alice When She's 94 fame (click to read recap of the visit). What a treat to meet them both! After spending some quality time with Alice and stealing roses for her room, Andrea and I had a delicious lunch at Johns Street Cafe. (The restaurateurs of the South could take a lesson on how to make good un-sweet tea from this place.) Then we spent an hour or so talking on the deck of Andrea's houseboat before I headed back to Washington. Such a lovely day!
Alice
One night we drove to Seaview for dinner where I had the best clam chowder I've ever had. Wish I could remember the name of the restaurant. We stopped at Beard's Hollow Lookout in Cape Disappointment State Park on the way.
