Have I Died and Gone to Heaven?

I’ve returned after a long absence from blogging. [Is blogging to podcasts what CDs are to Spotify?] In brief, I retired from my accounting job, my mother-in-law died in May of 2021, the grandchild count is at nine, the garden is green, and raspberries are on. Wonder of wonders, I find myself wanting to write.

Always ten years behind the times, my new joy is clearing out space, beginning with my kitchen sink. I’m certainly not minimalist, but midway between slob and minimal. For years this photo would have shown a mug filled with brushes and magic erasers, various drinking vessels, and two quarts of kefir “brewing”.

I filled the empty soap dispenser, found homes for the rest, and now revel in the serenity of the suburbs of my sink.

Last night, we were prepping for a family dinner to celebrate my father-in-law’s 86th birthday. My husband placed a dirty dish on the counter. No! I barked. Nothing left unwashed!! That’s why I bought that dish wand!!!

He looked at me in surprise, a smile developing in his eyes. Have I died and gone to heaven?

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Fine Art Friday Revisited

Girl with Peaches by Valentin Serov (1887)

I’m listening to Understanding Russia, A Cultural History. When Professor Hartnett mentioned this painting, on a whim, I sat down at my computer and searched for it.
And fell in love.

Serov’s own commentary:

All I wanted was freshness,
that special freshness that you can always feel in real life
and don’t see in paintings.
I painted it for over a month and tortured her, poor child, to death,
because I wanted to preserve the freshness in the finished painting,
as you can see in old works by great masters.

Apparently, this portrait is used in many internet memes in Russia. I think that indicates how much this piece is part of their culture.

It’s new to me, and I’m delighted with it.

From the Fine Art Friday Archives

A Walk to Remember: 12th Street

Bonnie and I walk together in the morning. Walk and talk. And soak in the lavender joy.
We encounter deer close up every day
Rock walls, the work involved, and artistry: a wonder
Looking up
Our small town university nestled in the valley
A profusion of Queen Anne’s Lace
Emily! (Mt. Emily)
X-raying a sunrise through a house
No filter! Just glory!

A Walk to Remember: Fox Hill

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I’ve long had an idea for a series of posts
entitled A Walk to Remember.
I’m a moment-hoarder,
a memory-grasper,
knowing how easily they get
plowed under by the thrum of life.

DSC_1036Two things were special about today.
I woke up at 4:25 a.m., a personal best!
For a lifelong night owl,
that’s a victory in itself. {laughter}

DSC_1037To be precise, it’s not unheard of
to wake up with a 4 on the clock.
But to get up and walk out the door?
Unfathomable.

DSC_1041My co-workers are fitness gurus.
The kind that participate in Warrior Dashes,
look for “Fun” runs (???!!!  #interrobang)
and organize triathlons.

DSC_1043The only “selfie” I took.

 

DSC_1045Last summer they started walking up Fox Hill
on Sunday mornings.

DSC_1049I couldn’t join them because it conflicted
with my music commitments at church.

DSC_1055They decided to hike up Fox Hill on Friday
this week, so I could join them!

DSC_1056This is a picture of endurance.
I needed it today!

DSC_1061The second special thing? I made it to the top!
Eastern Oregon doesn’t resemble the lush green
images of Oregon that most people imagine.
These high green hills will soon be dun.
But today they are simply splendid!

 

 

A Winter Travelogue

We wanted to honor our friend (my next door neighbor from Lombard, IL) and his family at his memorial service six hours away. The Pacific Northwest has been pounded with winter storms this weekend. As we studied the radar it looked like there was a break in the weather, when we could thread the needle and get through. We decided to give it a try. Except for a few dicey spots, the trip was a blessing.

Chapter 1  Setting Off

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This, my friends, is Eastern Oregon.

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Dry pavement. Yes!

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Deer crossing

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Welcome, Holly! This sign has been a source of delight for decades.

Chapter 2  Investment Opportunities

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This stark landscape reminds me of the Midwest. Or Scandinavia.

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A fine barn

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I imagine homesteaders lived here once upon a time. Or, perhaps a school?

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The detail on this fine old barn thrills me.

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Roof needs repaired. Air conditioning free.

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It was Tiny before Tiny Houses were cool

 

Chapter 3     Birds and Such 

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We’ve never seen so many hawks on posts. Here, there, here again. Sidenote: I over-helped my son write a paper on the red-tail hawk in 1993. I’ve never forgotten the scientific name: buteo jamaicensis.  Isn’t it weird what sticks to the inside of your brain?

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This horse has been studying and applying the Marie Kondo method.

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 Hawk perched in a tree.

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Waterfowl feeding

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I am drawn to lonely trees

 

Chapter 4  Coming Home on the Rattlesnake

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Driving south towards Lewiston

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I wonder how this highway was named The Rattlesnake?

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Looking down from above

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It descends, slithers along the floor of the canyon (see center of picture),
and slinks upward to the next plateau.

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S-curves superabound

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Sidling up to the mountain

 

Chapter 5  Watch for the Light

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Coming into the Wallowas, spots of blue sky

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A shroud of clouds cannot cover it. The light still shines.

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Light and shadow. And a lonely tree.

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Luminous

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Winter glory

 

Bonus Chapter: Deer and Elk

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Outside of Enterprise, deer feeding

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Outside of Imbler, elk herding

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I don’t have the skill to convey this magnificent sight: about 300 elk

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Walking, loping, bunching together

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Move ’em out!

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Bull supervising the exodus

Thyme in a Bottle

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I harvested and dried thyme from my herb garden. This morning I painstakingly picked the leaves off the branches while I caught up on a few of my favorite podcasts. What you see represents two to three hands-on hours. Yep.

Curt (my husband) raised an eyebrow when the slow speed of the progress registered in his brain. Really, Babe? was what his face said. “You have NO IDEA of the preciousness of thyme,” was my curt reply. 🙂 I don’t see it as a waste of time to work on thyme. 

This is year 2 of the thyme revolution. It’s a life-changer! If you have a shred of belief in aromatherapy, you might comprehend the fund of joy I receive when I unscrew this lid and smell my dried thyme. Especially in February. Because I am a show-and-tell girl down to my DNA, I have been known to make visitors take a whiff.

“That spice cabinet is amazing!” they say.
“Thank you,” I politely say. “Smell my thyme.”

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From Sea to Shining Sea

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Within five weeks I went from an island in the Pacific Ocean to an island in the Atlantic Ocean! First my husband and I celebrated our 40th anniversary with a trip to Victoria, British Columbia.

Back in the spring, our next-door neighbors invited us over for supper. While talking, we realized that both couples got married in 1978. Our friend grinned, declared he was taking his wife to Italy for their 40th, and pressed his point: how were we planning to celebrate ours? Well, my lovely husband stalled, we were thinking about Canada. It was all I could do not to swivel and stare. Oh, Canada! Yessss!

It turned out we arrived on Canada Day. Thousands of folk in the streets. A giant block party. Vendors, musicians, artists, mimes, bands, orators, food, dancing, throngs. A sea of people ebbed and flowed. We enjoyed the celebration, Butchart Gardens, museums, monuments, and cathedrals. And just being together in a romantic place.

Monhegan Harbor
In August, my sister Dorothy and I traveled to Maine to visit our brother and sister (in-law). We were eager to visit Jim and Kathie’s favorite spot, an island ten miles off the coast. Monhegan. We enjoyed the quiet punctuated by seagulls’ laughter; gardens, galleries, a museum, shops, and the little community church. And just sharing sibling time in a transcendent space.

Sea to shining sea. That reminds me of what my brother Dan says about pitching congregational songs too high to sing. C to shining C!

May Flowers

Oh, you vibrant May flowers. Your beauty near breaks my heart.

DSC_0389Western columbine.
They were all over in the forest when we were cutting wood. Exquisite.

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Garden variety chives. From my garden. A lovely addition to a salad. Edible beauty!

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Lovely lupine.

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Bejeweled by dew.

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I wish I knew my wildflowers.
The last time I tried to identify a flower by a picture on the webs,
I called a zinnia a Gerbera daisy. Oy!

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Glory!

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Delicate.

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These were everywhere. I’m astonished at the wastefulness of beauty. Who sees this? Perhaps ten people in the life cycle of these flowers.

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Eye-level lupines by the road.

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California Poppies! I love these! This is in a neighborhood near ours.

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I loved the contrast of this columbine and the dark tree trunk. Quietude.