Food, Knitting and A trip to the Zoo

That nasty flu bug was far more stubborn than I’d realized. There are still days when I don’t feel very well. I certainly have not yet come up to speed, as much as I desperately wish to be.

Originally I’d planned to spend most of the weekend hanging out at the Oregon Flock and Fiber Festival (OFFF) spinning and chatting with people but I’m so far behind that I’ll only be going over there for a few hours Saturday and Sunday afternoons. I’ll be delivering spindles to Carolina Homespun and Herndon Creek Farms tomorrow afternoon and maybe look around a bit but the festival doesn’t officially open until Saturday (except for workshops). Ed and Aurora want to go with me on Sunday so that should be fun.

There are still some gravenstein apples from our tree to make a last batch of applesauce. The tree produced the best and biggest crop this year. So tasty! I made numerous pies – mmm, gravensteins make delicious apple pie! (Pictured, one huge apple with a 1 cup measure.)

The last of the corn needs to be picked and preserved, and all the green tomatoes to be picked to let ripen indoors. It’s crazy but I never transferred the knowledge that tomatoes shouldn’t be refrigerated (they lose flavor) to picking them before the temperatures dip into the forties. Makes sense! The temps have been in the low forties several nights though we’ve had wonderfully sunny warm days, until today when it only reached about 70 after morning clouds burned off. The beets, squash and potatoes will stay in the garden for now.

Our poor garden. It was shaping up to be a bumper year but we were gone during the peak harvest time for the green beans. If I hadn’t gotten sick I still could have put up a decent amount of beans but by the time I had enough energy to deal with canning them (with the help of Aurora) lots of the beans were too big and woody so we only got 8 pints. We’ve had several more small pickings for supper and there are still a few young ones coming on. The corn also went beyond their peak so we’ve been letting them dry on the stalk, picking an occasional cob and using the kernels in soups. (Lots of homemade soup the past three weeks, plus juicing fruits and vegetables to consume every evening.) We are determined to never take a lengthy trip again during the end of August into the first few weeks of September, not after putting all that time and water into a garden.

A picture of the Pikku-Lilli making the piping at the back, knitting the two rows together around the back circle. This took four sets of 16″ circulars since the circle was smaller than 16″.

I love the cute back details.

Sadly I didn’t get a picture of it on the tiny recipient – a wee granddaughter of a neighbor who was born late August.

The day after it was off the needles and blocked I weighed it, 25 grams, and determined that the 31 grams of left over Cherry Tree Hill yarn would be enough to make one for Violet so I cast on with #3 / 3.25mm needles instead of the 2.5mm needles I’d used for the yellow one.

There were a number of days that the needles didn’t see much action but the bonnet is now only 8 rows short of working the piping for the back. At about the eighth set of the four row pattern repeat I started to get a sinking feeling. Weighing the ball of yarn and figuring the amount left to be knit I was optimistic so kept knitting. Last night after finishing the 11th repeat set I looked at the tiny ball of yarn. The sinking feeling settled into the depths of my gut. The remaining yarn hit the scale. Only 10 grams. Instead of making I-chord ties I could use matching ribbons. Even so it’s going to be very close. The bigger needles are using up more than I’d anticipated. This morning I knit a couple more rows in grim determination that there will be enough. Ha, not likely. Sadly it’s destined for the frog pond. argh So much wasted time. It wouldn’t be so bad if three weeks hadn’t elapsed.

Spinning has been fun and cumulative. Two more bobbins are filled and plying commenced today. We’re now watching Violet on Tuesdays and Thursdays each week. After her mid-day bottle I’ve been putting her on a blanket under the tree and spinning alongside her. She loves watching the action and tries to grab the yarn. Sometimes she sits on my lap and watches the spinning from that vantage point. Maybe she’ll be the one who loves playing with string. She turned 6 months on Monday and is almost able to hold her sitting position alone but topples over after a few moments of a swaying balance.

 

We took Feathers and Gus to the zoo while in Idaho and had a great time there with them watching the tigers playing in their water pit.

 

Spending time in the butterfly hothouse having thousands of them flutter all around us, and hitch rides on us. Feathers said the little feet hurt her skin! She had a number of them attached to her at different times.

 

Lunch time while waiting our turn to go into the butterfly hothouse.

                                                                                                                            

 

Before we’d left for Idaho Ed bought us some shirts at an Arts Festival.   

The words don’t show up but Feathers’ and my shirt have the words, “Never trust a sheep in wolves clothing.”  Gus’s reads, “Just hanging around”

 

Last, but not least, the sunset our first evening in Idaho.

Thanks to all who’ve left comments. I do love getting them!

 

Trip to Idaho

Woke up this morning finally feeling almost back to normal after a bad bout with a stomach virus. I can’t remember the last time I was so sick – decades ago. Too miserable to do anything but sleep and lie around. No energy to even read until last Saturday and then it was only very light reading. Mind candy.

At 2:30 I looked out the office window at the slanting sun. It slides southward at an alarming rate these days, getting closer to the south ridge every afternoon. Not wanting to waste an entire fine day working inside knowing these warm days are numbered, I grabbed my keys, spindle and pepper spray then headed out the door.

For several weeks in August I’d daily taken a fast mile walk/run before drinking the first cup of morning coffee. It felt great to slowly be getting back in shap; to be able to run more than a hundred steps before my body shouted to walk and to work at quickening my walking pace. I’d love to get back down to 13 minute miles, though I might be content with 14 minute miles if I’m spinning at the same time.

Our son and daughter-in-law have been preparing to bow hunt for elk and they were eager to be in the mountains on opening morning and through the weekend if they didn’t get an elk right away. Knowing that Feather would have started school by then I offered to come and stay with the kids since we hadn’t had the opportunity to spend significant time with them in months. Originally I’d over drive on Tuesday but son phoned wanting Ed to go fishing with him on Monday. Suddenly we were both going to be away from work for an entire week. The second to last week of August was a blur of getting ready, trying to get as much work finished as possible, a house-sitter lined up, things packed and celebrating Ed’s birthday the day before we left.

We had a great time with the grandkids, but found ourselves exhausted before the end of the week. Crazy how much non-stop energy little kids have. They both learned to ride bikes earlier this summer and that is their favorite activity. I lost count of how many times we rode bikes round and round the block, up and down side streets in their housing development.

MJ wanted to get in more target practice so we loaded up and headed to the Dead-On Archery place. I was able to rent a bow (!) and had a blast trying to bring back some rusty skills, only this time with a 25lb compound bow.  Gracious, archery used to be a semi-inexpensive pastime. Ed and I used to shoot at a park in East Portland that had a bow range. When we were alone we’d walk the grass lawn behind the targets shuffling our feet feeling for buried arrows which kept us in good arrow supply.  Another happy memory is riding my horse bareback, bow in hand trying to shoot various targets as we’d race along the canyon bottom where I lived as a teen.

On Tuesday JJ joined MJ for the final outdoor tune-ups on their fancy bows and to work at their accuracy at 40 yards from the target.

Everyone else had to use the indoor range.

Ed managed to capture the arrow in flight just as I released it!

I took my spinning wheel with some Picperfic rovings with high hopes for doing lots of spinning. May as well have left it at home. By the time the kids were read to and tucked in bed at 8 Ed and I were both so tired we soon followed. I did get some knitting done, mostly during the 8+ hour road trip, each way, when Ed took over the driving for long sections. Normally Ed doesn’t do much driving in my car since it can painfully stir up his sciatica but this trip he seemed to do fine. A couple days ago I had the energy to finish the Pikku-Lilli baby cap, pattern by Lene Alve, which I cast on for during the trip. It was so much fun I immediately cast on for a bigger one for Violet. In going through all the pictures from the trip this evening I was chagrined to find I haven’t taken any photos yet of the cap. Until then here’s a picture of the grandkids that I took shortly after we arrived at their house and we’d just given them each a slinky.

And now I’d like to direct your attention to a friend of mine, Ellie, whom I wrote about three years ago when she set out to tackle the Appalachian Trail. She’s taken on another huge challenge this coming Saturday, The Savageman Triathlon. The 2012 Savageman is dedicated to raising awareness and funds for the Joanna M Nicolay Melanoma Foundation. It seems as though we all hear of Breast Cancer awareness and fundraising but rarely the other deadly cancers that affect so many of our friends. (I have 3 friends who’ve battled it.) Skin cancer is the #1 cancer in the US with Melanoma the most deadly form!

Ellie is 60 and taking on one of the toughest triathlons out there! She’s been an inspiration to me when I get the doldrums and want to stop working at trying to be more physically fit. I’d love to have you take a look at her page, and if possible make a donation to such a worthy effort.

 

A Walker

I had been at the counter a handful of moments when the postmistress popped around the corner exclaiming, “You’re a fast walker! I thought I’d get to the counter just as you did.” She had seen me coming in along the back way to the Post Office.

My ability to walk fast came from my mother, Anita. She had a long, effortless mile eating stride. As a youngster walking to the store, in the pasture or along the country road, she’d encourage me to take bigger steps, to swing my legs forward so I could keep up with her. None of the small mincing, hip-swaying steps for her. (Though her mother saw to it that she developed into a lady! During  college she was crowned the May Queen – the highest honor coveted by most of the female students.)  She laughed at her ability to walk quickly.

My mother loved walking. Growing up she and her younger brother, Roy, raced the four blocks to the neighborhood tennis courts in Berkley Park to play a few sets before breakfast. Their dad often drove the family into the Colorado Rocky Mountains  in pursuit of  mining and logging towns, hidden lakes, and mountain summits. He’d travel long distances, camera slung over his shoulder in search of  great photos while she and her brothers roamed along with him.

If she had her choice between domestic activities or yard work, she’d chose the yard work in a flash preferring to be outside whether working in the yard, playing tennis, swimming and diving in Berkley Lake or exploring the mountains with the family. As the second daughter, and second to the oldest child she felt overshadowed by her older sister. Bernice seemed to have natural talent for whatever she put her hand to whether it was painting, poetry, photography, sewing, gardening, cooking, teaching or raising a large family.  Anita had a more reserved nature and preferred quiet talks, long rambles, swimming and tennis, playing the violin and writing. Occasionally she’d confess that she often felt inadequate compared to her accomplished sister. Her words would wring my heart for she was a woman who didn’t show affection easily but loved deeply and with great commitment. She was one of the most selfless people I have ever known. Even when she was ill she’d be out helping the shut-in people, taking them groceries and meals or driving them to doctor’s appointments or simply sitting and listening to people who came to her for counsel, prayer and wisdom.

Her lungs had been flooded with gasoline when she was in too big of a hurry and impatient at the slowness of getting the gas to start flowing when she needed to fill her car tank. For some odd reason the tank that was provided where she was a missionary on the Hopi reservation in the late 40′s didn’t have a regular pump and nozzle but she or the other missionary woman always had to siphon it to get it going. She inhaled sharp and long and suddenly was gasping for her life, her lungs drenched in gasoline. They rushed her the long, rough dirt roads to Winslow where she was in critical condition for many days before her strong lungs and body began to heal. Her lungs were scarred for the rest of her life but she didn’t let that stop her from being active and walking. One of my earliest memories is of her standing outside on the back porch early every morning drawing in slow, deep lungfuls of air through her nose then even more slowly expelling it through her pursed mouth exercising her lungs making them stretch, expand and become flexible for the day ahead.

When she was sixty-five she had the opportunity to hike down into Havasupai to spend a week as part of the outreach program at the college where she was a Bible and English teacher. Excited at this incredible opportunity to hike in the remote, jaw-dropping beautiful place at the lower end of the Grand Canyon, but rather daunted at such an undertaking she began a daily walking regime that would put many a younger person to shame. By the time she stood at the top of the rim looking down into the canyon with its steep, switchback descent she was ready to tackle the trail.

She lived towards the south end of Silverton during her last years. Even as the scar tissue in her lungs slowly squeezed off her air capacity she continued to walked the mile into town to buy a few groceries, go to the bank or post office. Her limited lung capacity (about a quarter of normal!) forced her to slow down with age but she still managed to walk faster than many people her age.

Today would have been her 96th birthday. Tears well up and my heart constricts when I think of how much she would have loved her great-grandchildren. She was so gentle, yet firm with little ones – they always felt safe with her.

When we lived on the Navajo reservation she tried to keep ingredients on hand for her delicious stand-by cake recipe for when people would drop in unexpectedly or she’d hear of a need for some food. It’s not scratch but it’s delicious! In honor of her birthday here’s the recipe for

Fast Fixin’ Chocolate Cake
Preheat oven to 350 degrees
Grease or lay parchment paper in bottom (my favorite method) 9 x 13″ pan.

1 – Box Devil’s Food Cake (or any dark chocolate cake mix)
1 – Box Instant Chocolate Pudding
2 – eggs
1/2 C Vegetable Oil (I use coconut oil or melted butter)
1 1/4 C Water
1 C Chocolate Chips (I often use more)
Caramel Ice cream topping (my addition)

Beat eggs, add the water and oil, mixing well.
Dump in the Cake mix and Pudding mix, gently mix until blended.
Stir in the chocolate chips and pour into greased, or parchment paper lined pan.

Drizzle the caramel topping back and forth across the top.*

Bake about 35 minutes, or until toothpick comes out clean.

*Mom didn’t use a topping or icing on her cake, instead, when the cake cooled she dusted the top with powdered sugar which made a pretty presentation.
This cake is always a hit at potlucks, birthdays, and the community dinner. Especially with the caramel topping!

And now for a photo of wee Violet whom my mother would have adored with her whole heart.

 

Introducing…

Celery Stick! Yep, that’s the name Ed told the new parents they should name the wee baby girl.

Aurora and Hayman decided long ago that they wanted to meet the new person to see who she was before saddling her with a name that possibly wouldn’t fit once they saw her. So wise! They did narrow their list of favorite names down to their top ten or so which they took with them to the hospital on Friday as the contractions became regular and closer together. Violet was a top choice, until they met her. Violet didn’t seem to quite fit but another name on the list was perfect. They murmured her name and tasted it on their tongues, waiting until Sunday to officially declare her given name. For the blog she will be known as Violet.

Our son, his two kids and Ed spent the day waiting. Feathers and Gus were little troopers! Every time I poked my head in they were playing happily (and quietly) or watching a video. At one point Son took them to the town park so they could run off energy.

Aurora had a wonderful support team of Hayman, MJ (Son’s wife), her best friend- Kay, I and nurses. Friday evening wee Violet made her grand entrance.

All that hard work!

Sunday afternoon was her homecoming. The day was raw and windy but the sun shone through the south windows lighting, and warming, up the room. Ed is one very content grandpa.

Isn’t she a sweet Violet!

 

 

Double Post Day

A customer-friend who lives in Alaska is visiting her folks in Portland came to see us a week ago bringing along some lilac from bushes that had been subjected to much harsh weather in their long lives. Ed and I were still dealing with the hard hitting colds and no where near our best but we enjoyed talking with them greatly. Such an interesting couple, Bea and Deac!

Bea called Friday afternoon just as I was heading out the door to strings ensemble practice: the lot next to her parents was being bull-dozed for a new house and there were some good sized lilac bushes, including purple flowered ones. Did we want them? Yes!

For the most part Ed prefers scouting down wood on his own. He’s been handed a few too many pieces that were good for the woodstove, and some good only for composting. Heartwood decay, cracks and splits, mold… but Bea had shown that she understood wood with good spindle potential so he arranged for us to drive up there to collect it on Sunday.

Yesterday was Ed dad’s 80 th birthday. We picked up Aurora and drove the 153 miles to his house to help him celebrate. Just before leaving the house Ed phoned him to wish him a happy birthday. About 2 miles from his place Aurora phoned him on her cell and also wished him happy birthday, all in a ruse to completely surprise him when we pulled into his driveway a few minutes late. He was so shocked he scarcely knew what to do or say.His wife, Lin, had made three soups that morning and whipped up some southern corn bread right before lunch. She’d invited a houseful of friends and relatives so he knew that was happening but we were the big surprise. Ed bought some lobster tails which he loves but rarely gets to eat. I made a big batch of dinner rolls. The day was balmy and blue. If I hadn’t been the driver for the entire trip this post would be littered with all the beautiful scenes. Low white clouds against dark blue, sharp etched mountains. Green pastures dotted with sheep drowsing in the warm sun. Though the atmosphere seemed crisp and clear the blue sky seemed to be glazed with a slight milky film.

Knitting on a scarf was mindless and easy in that throng of people. Lunchtime came and the tables filled quickly, Aurora and I grabbed the chance to slip out onto the back deck and soak up the sun while eating in peace and quiet.

Back along the freeway racing the setting sun. The colors!!! We’ve been having some splendid blazing apricot, rose and purple sunsets – a rarity in Oregon. This time of the year anything other than grey rain is a welcome change but the rains haven’t set it, yet.

I finally convinced Aurora to take some pictures but by the time she took up the camera the vivid glories were fading.  Here’s the best of her takes, not exactly what I was after but a fun picture with the slashing head and tail lights in the opposite lanes.

This morning also dawned breath-taking beautiful. This time Ed drove since we were taking his old Toyota pickup. More knitting time! I’m working on a cabled scarf, the 8 row pattern quickly memorized, with #7 / 4.5mm needles. The pattern called for #8 but I ripped back after doing 8 rows and moved down to a 7 for better stitch distinction. Three cables didn’t seem like enough so I added 24 more stitches for five cables. Much better!

Out from this little valley and we hit fog. Not terribly dense but enough to slow the drive a bit. Outside of Portland Ed negotiated the Terwilliger Curves and we were  back into bright sunlight with Mt Hood shining in the distance. So warm and sunny. We had Googled the route to the house, which was in an area of Portland I have been to only a handful of times. I know I shouldn’t trust Google maps, it doesn’t have us in the right place, why assume it has anything else correct. But, I was in a hurry. Then the computer didn’t want to communicate with the printer so I studied the online map, jotting down the main off-ramp leading to the crossroad that was closest to the house. Past the Convention Center and its twin spires, carefully watching the signs.  Rosa Parks Ave? What’s that, I don’t recall that name and suddenly I felt a bit disoriented. Portland has renamed a number of main streets: MLK for Union Ave, Cesear Chavez for 39th and now Rosa Parks for what? Next thing we saw were the exits for the Expo Center and Marine Dr. We’d missed the exit. During our wandering around (why no, we don’t own a cell phone) we saw a large sign:
FAR WEST FIBER
with the address and a phone number. Excited Ed pulled over so I could write it down and we could look it up and go for a visit after picking up the lilac.

Hurray, a road name that matched the one I’d jotted down. A few minutes more and we pulled up in front of the house. Such pleasant, interesting people! We could easily have spent more than the hour we were there. But finally, wood in truck, Ed asked about finding Far West Fiber. Bea grabbed her laptop and pulled up the address all the while her folks were looking dubious and muttering about it sounding familiar. Hahaha, the joke was on us. It’s a recycling center!!!

We still wanted to check out a new-to-us yarn store so Bea directed us to the closest neighborhood one: The Naked Sheep. Finding convenient parking we strolled in to the pleasant shop where the owner greeted us cheerfully and went back to assisting the other customers. I found just the yarns for a couple of  baby projects in the line-up: Debbie Bliss Riva and an Elesbeth Lavold SensuAl skein. So soft. 98% baby alpaca. swoon. A ball of Cascade Yarns Cash Vero DK also jumped into my basket. Ed snapped up a reading light to attach to his book when reading in bed.

And, since we were close to NE Portland, we headed over to Twisted. Ed and I selected some notions, buttons, and a skein of yarn Dream in Color sock yarn for another pattern in mind and took them to the counter where we started chatting with Star Athena, yes the woman who single-handedly started Tour de Fleece. We had been to Twisted 3 years ago and had talked with her then. Bless her heart, she remembered our conversation about the TdF. I tend to get numb-brained when talking with people with a name. I’ve been meaning to tell her that a number of years ago (7? 9?) I heard her with her band on stage at a blue grass festival and loved her singing! But I didn’t pick up a CD (not sure they had one) and the years sort of blurred the memory. Anyway, I’ve been wanting to ask her about her singing, if she still works with a band or? But drats, the thought flew right out of my brain as soon as we started talking.

Driving home we encountered fog again shortly past Oregon City and it accompanied us home. Where it hung out all day. Dreary, and disappointing. I was all jazzed to go for a long walk in the bright sunshine once we got home. I should have shrugged on a jacket and hat but laziness took over with fondling new yarn, knitting and some reading.

Wednesday afternoon I washed a freshly plied skein of handspun then cast around to find a suitable drying spot. Ah-ha, hanging from the pot rack above the wood stove!

 

Wedding Simplicity

Six days isn’t much time to plan a wedding.

We can attest that it is possible. Just keep it simple!

Ed’s dad decided they couldn’t possibly make it. I asked Jack Smith, the Navajo pastor that we’d had at Shonto but he had never been ordained, so then I call Mr Herman at Navajo Mountain – he had full services Sunday morning and evening, plus with some 45 miles of rugged dirt and snow covered roads from N.Mt to the main road he apologized for not being able to conduct the service. We ended up asking the minister at my parent’s church. Another friend of our parents offered to take the pictures. Dear June Smith, Jack’s wife, offered to serve at the punch and cake table for the reception.

Genevieve, the pianist, and her mom drove the 200 miles from Kayenta, in Northern Arizona, right after church on New Years Day. She, Terri and I had played on the HS volleyball team, endured chemistry (I would have flunked in the section where we had to calculate long convoluted math sequences but for Genevieve’s patient help – pre hand-held calculator days), enjoyed biology and math, and hung out together. Gen was a whiz at both math and music! The evening passed too swiftly with a quick rehearsal and catching up on each others lives for the past 3.5 years.

Mom fixed a large breakfast for all of us. My hair still in socks, Ed already dressed in his suit. (I should have realized then and there that he is a man who is always ready as early as possible!) My brother, who was to be best man, also ate breakfast with us.

My sister, Polly, camped at PDX from about noon on Sunday hoping for a stand-by seat headed for Phoenix were she needed to be before 7am in order to catch the  commuter plane to Flagstaff in time for our 10 am wedding.  Dad got the call at 9am to come pick her up at the small local airport. Yes! She’d arrived in time to be our soloist!

The pews look empty but there were 24 people who witnessed our wedding ceremony.
Terri borrowed the dress I’d worn for my friend’s wedding on the 23rd. With daisies our only flower option we used yellow, peach and brown as our wedding colors, colors which unfortunately didn’t match the formal dress Terri had packed. Ed had worn his suit for that wedding and thus had it with us in Arizona, otherwise he’d have never packed it.  Those were the days of the ugly polyester leisure suits. My dad wore one of his good quality wool dress suit.

June served punch, Genevieve, her mom, and Lydia’s mom  (Lydia drove to Flag with us to visit her folks.) waiting for the cutting of the cake. The picture in the background? That’s my older brother Dan and I. (Dan also missed the wedding, he wasn’t able to leave a new job in Colorado.)

Dad loaned us his LTD Ford and away Ed and I drove to spend a night at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon and do a bit of hiking.

We spent less than $100 dollars on the wedding! The flowers, cake and pictures took the largest portions. In hindsight we regretted not hiring a professional photographer. Or at least someone who had a photographed a few weddings. Otherwise, we loved our small cozy wedding! We loved not having all the hassles and expense of putting on a production. The heart of the wedding is two people committing themselves, before God and witnesses, to each other for the rest of their lives. Simplicity. No anguishing over whether things are turning out: is there enough parking, punch, food… ? Saving hundreds of dollars on dresses and clothes that most likely will never be worn again. With only a small gathering it was easy and comfortable for us to mingle and enjoy talking with friends. We were disappointed no one from Ed’s family were able to make it but we understood. When a couple has a small, almost impromptu wedding they don’t receive many gifts, but we lived in a extremely small house, it’s not like we needed much, or had a smidgeon of room for extras!

As for a proper wedding dress? I would have loved to have worn my mothers beautiful dress with dozens of cloth-covered buttons down the back, puffed sleeves at the shoulder and wide, V cut neck but she was much broader shouldered with a wider rib cage, and stood 5’6′ to my 5’2″ making the dress hang like a glamorous sack. Nor did Polly wear mom’s wedding dress for her wedding. It seems a shame that she tenderly kept it safely packed away all those years, occasionally taking it out on their wedding anniversary, but neither of us wore it. My daughter considered wearing it but she’s 5’9″ tall and like me has narrow shoulders and chest. Perhaps a great-granddaughter down the years will carefully unpack it and proudly wear it.

 

Thirty-four years, and counting

How the years have flown. Can we really be this old?

Was it indeed that long ago that we were dreaming of marriage. Truth is, we didn’t take very long with the dreaming part.

Ed and I met while working at a local summer camp. He’d just finished four years as a Navy Seabee (Construction Battalion) when his mentor and fishing buddy, who happened to be the camp director, asked him to work as the summer maintenance crew leader. I was working my second summer there as assistant wrangler. First awareness came when he helped Lowell and I build a small blacksmith shop for Lowell, the head wrangler and certified blacksmith. We took to hanging out together and riding horses Sunday afternoons. Star Wars came out that summer. He went to watch it in the theaters three times. Each time taking a different camp worker. I was the last. (We’re still friends with the girl of his second date.)

By summer’s end we didn’t want to say goodbye. By the end of October we were talking marriage. November and plans were made to drive to my folk’s place in Flagstaff, AZ for Christmas. A good friend decided she should go too  since her parents also lived in Flag. We would drive her car which was far more reliable than Ed’s old pickup truck held together with baling wire. Car-less, I depended on public transportation.

I was a bride’s maid in a friend’s 7pm wedding, Dec 23rd, which took place in a town about an hour west of Portland. Driving straight from the wedding back across to East Portland to pick up Lydia we arrived at the hospital just as she got off her swing shift. She’d stashed her suitcase in the car earlier that day and without delay we drove the night away. South, down the length of Oregon, up and over the snowy Siskiyou Mountains straddling the Oregon/California border. Swinging east heading for Nevada, we encountered the heaviest, thickest fog I hope to ever drive through. Scary! Fortunately at that early time of the morning on that straight back country road there was almost no traffic. Driving, my head hung out the window as I desperately peered for the dotted line to keep us centered on the road. Ed kept a sharp look out for car lights ahead while Lydia watched for cars through the back window. We crept along about 10 miles an hour for what felt like hours. Then finally we broke through into sunshine. On through Reno, Las Vegas, over Boulder Dam and into Arizona, stopping only to gas up and grab a bit to eat as Saturday crept to a close. (Car food the rest of the time.) Speeding along I-40, finally winding up into higher elevations leading to Flagstaff we arrived stiff, exhausted ,yet exhilarated at 5:30 Christmas morning. 30 hours of almost non-stop driving, an early Christmas surprise. (Normally it took us 36 hours for the journey.)

21st Birthday December 26 Looking at my parent’s wedding album

Ed managed to get my dad alone. My dad knew what was coming and teased him by asking Ed all sorts of evasive questions just to make Ed squirm. That night he slipped the engagement ring on my finger and we celebrated with my folks and talked about wedding plans. Mom was a teacher at a small college at the time so we weighed the merits of a Spring break vs a summer wedding.

Jokingly I turned to mom and said, “we should get married on your anniversary.” Without a beat of hesitation she replied, “Yes, you could!” Ed and I looked at each other in utter astonishment and mounting excitement. We turned to dad who nodded and said, “Why not?”

Why not? Their anniversary was January 1st, in six days. Could we pull it off? Why not? Ed’s dad was a preacher and we knew that it’d be difficult for him to call in a back-up for that Sunday, which like this January 1st also landed on a Sunday. But, they should be able to fly to Flagstaff right after church. We moved the date back one day to January 2nd. (We were amused by idea of marriage on a Monday, and a date that wasn’t so wildly popular for weddings.)

Engagement picture January 1, 1978

Phone calls were made and plans quickly fell into place. I borrowed a dress, my dear friend since 8th grade flew from Texas, together we stalked up the flank of the Mt Elden gathering wild grasses, greenery and some freeze-dried red berries still clinging to their bushes – anything that looked like a possibility for decorations. A small cake was ordered as well as a head-piece and bouquets of daisies. (There were very few options at that time in Flagstaff!) A dear friend, also from High School days, willingly agreed to play the piano for the wedding. A back-up minister in case Ed’s dad didn’t make it, which looking more likely with each passing day.

Stay tuned for next installment!

 

Birthday knitting

A few days before the mini-vacation I suddenly realized that not only would I get to see my sister, Polly, whom I hadn’t seen in over two years, her birthday was quickly coming and I wanted to make something for her.

Six years and the rug between our beds separated us. We shared a bedroom and closet, a love of books, horses and cows but six years is a wide gulf to span. I remember some fun times of chasing each other around, and under the kitchen table, playing tiddy-winks and Authors. I don’t remember having heart to heart conversations. I had to go to bed long before she turned in and often I’d sneak books into bed and read – I was a very early reader – while listening to her and my older brother playing outdoors in the long summer twilight hours wishing I was old enough to be allowed to stay up.  For the most part she did her best to ignore me. By the time I was eight I thought she was the perfect daughter who dutifully did her chores, diligently picked berries and beans in the summer, cheerfully woke up at five in the morning all year long to milk her cow before heading to school or to the fields.

She’d haul me up behind her saddle on the spirited horse she bought after saving all her money four long years and across the fields we’d dash, me clinging desperately to her waist asking her to  please slow Mitzi down. Until she threatened to not ever take me riding with her again if I complained one more time. What she never understood is how pain clawed at my side from the thrust of the horses hindquarters bunching and bounding beneath my seat jostling my mere 60-some pounds to and fro. I loved riding with her, and I hated it.

She still thrives on busyness and activity. She holds down three jobs and loves them all: on-call all the time as the chaplain for the police and fire departments, the only one for the large, spread out county where she lives; the ordained deaconess/preacher for a small Episcopal church some 30 miles from her home which has not been able to find a priest to come serve their small community church; counselor to women of domestic violence and other life-wrenching issues. Periodically, when she needs to go out of the area her husband will be the on-call chaplain but he too is very engaged with the church which he shepherds and as chaplain for the community hospital.

Fortunately, about Thanksgiving  before I came across a mention in Knitspot (Nov 26th post) for some knitted jewelry earring that had me racing over to Laurie Nelkin’s Etsy shop and placing an order on the spot. Not for the earrings but for the Butin Collar. Bless her, she was away over the Thanksgiving holiday and I can only imagine how full her inbox was with orders by Monday morning, amazingly she mailed my kit that very Monday and it was in my hands by Thursday.  I steeled myself against its sweet call and continued working on Feather’s sweater to have it finished to take to the coast.  Saturday, Dec 3rd, the sweater was blocking and I reached for the kit to make a gift for Polly.

It whipped up in just a few hours, start to finish. Here it is on the pattern after it was gently hand-washed and blocked. I am charmed with the design, beauty, the clasp, and the ease of the pattern.

On a roll, I spun some yarn and crocheted two pageminders, one for her Polly’s husband and one for Ed’s dad – both avid readers.

Polly was delighted with the necklace. Unfortunately I only took this one blurry photo of her before gifts were exchanged.

Today she shares a birthday with my good friend, Grace – who was Polly’s horse-comrade and friend when they were young.
Happy Birthday to two wonderful, excellent women who each live life to the fullest and love God with all their hearts.

 

Snizzle. The fog had been thick from our place through the valley to Salem where suddenly everything looked snow covered. We were truly puzzled, a micro-climate of snow in a small three-four block area near the heart of Salem? We barely had time to debate whether or not it was snow when we were back to fog drenched world, driving over the Willamette River, winding through the western side of the valley with stretches of wildlife and bird refuges, and finally climbing over the coast range into bright, glorious sunlight.

The evening weather report talked about Snizzle – yes, there is such a word, as well as snizzling. It happens when the fog is so thick with moisture that it has to release it and it becomes a dense drizzle (oh, so common in Oregon!). When the temperature is low enough the drizzle actually turns to a form of snow: snizzle.

Three days away from home hanging out with our kids and family in the middle of last week. Last year our son arranged time for our families to celebrate a combined Thanksgiving/Christmas at Black Butte in Central Oregon, this time he secured a house on a hill overlooking the ocean south of Lincoln City. Normally December shrouds Oregon in either pouring rain or heavy fogs but this year the Oregon coast has been kissed by the sun.
View of the ocean from the kitchen window early afternoon.

Late in the afternoon I took the grandkids for a walk down the road which lead to the house as a perfect way to burn some energy before a potato soup and french bread supper. (Had a hard time capturing the steepness of the hill.)

Rising early Wednesday morning I made a batch of yeast rolls to rise in time for the mid-day celebration dinner. Gus eagerly waited for them to come out of the oven.

We played fun “Minute to Win” games.

Feathers tried on the sweater that had been started when we visited them at the end of September.

She loved it. But, the arms were too tight for her liking, and she wanted lots of butterflies. Sigh. It’s not a wasted effort, there’s a young girl cousin who will be born in March who will likely inherit it.
I did have fun making it and learned a few things:
1) Stranded color-work benefits from a size larger needles, especially stranded knit/purls (the lower sleeves) which draw in even more.
2) Even though the item nicely fits a dummy model of the child, the child has undoubtedly grown in the 2 months.
3) Each time a sleeve is frogged it knits up even quicker.
4) It’s time-consuming trying to chart the pattern/design while knitting. (Frogging and redesigning left such efforts in the dust.)
5) At my stage in knitting sweaters (having previously knit only two other sweaters, one for newborn Feather, one for when she turned 1), I really should stick with a pattern instead of stubbornly trying to go it without a pattern.
6)  Lene of Dances with Wool is a tremendous font of inspiration! The butterfly patch is a nod to her. I cut a small piece of thick cotton muslin for tracing and embroidering the butterfly.

A walk on the cold beach before heading back home to work.

 

New Lathe!

Ed’s back is in bad shape. It’s such that back surgeons don’t want to touch it. Back when I still worked at the Public Library and had health insurance he finally gotten to the point where he stopped resisting the idea of back surgery to bring relief to the sciatic pain and atrophied right leg. (It was truly alarming to watch the once strong muscles seem to melt away.)  An MRI had three different specialists shaking their heads, each tellingd him the MRI and his atrophied leg just don’t match: the messed up nerves from the degenerative bones and slipped discs should have caused the sciatic pain and atrophying in his left leg. Appeared that his nerves were switched around. Too risky.

He picked himself up and pushes on, mind over matter, the best he can. It does work but there comes a time when matter gives way despite the strongest will power. He’s started carrying a cane when he knows there will be lots of walking involved.  I’m usally the driver. Sometimes when he’s driving, he literally has to grab his jeans and lift his leg from the gas pedal to the brake. (The seat in his old Toyota pickup makes it easier for him to drive than my Focus both of which are manual transmission.) Occasionally he’ll have a day when his leg collapses several times while he’s working, after the third episode he quits for the day.

So it was while he was at the wood store in Portland looking to see what interesting woods might be available he spotted a Lathe. Not an ordinary lathe but one which can be operated from a wheelchair! We discussed the reasonableness of the investment. A few days later he went back up to Portland and bought it.

That evening after supper he went for his daily neighborhood stroll to see how everyone is doing. It wasn’t long before  several followed him home to help him offload the new lathe and take away the old one which was going to the happy young neighbor standing to the right on the trailer below.

 

 

 

It’s a OneWay Lathe which for now Ed has it set up to use while standing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But if the day comes when he needs to sit and turn it will accommodate a chair just dandy.

He’s thrilled with it. It’s a heavy duty machine that should be able to withstand full-time usage. He added a choke and our s-i-l will be making a tool rest to Ed’s liking.

Ed is a man who loves working with wood and hopes to be able to all of his life.