keeping quiet

Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still.

For once on the face of the earth,
let’s not speak in any language;
let’s stop for a second,
and not move our arms too much.

It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.

Fisherman in the cold sea
would not harm the whales
and the man gathering salt
would not hurt his hands.

Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.

What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.

Life is what it is about…

If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with death.
Perhaps the earth can teach us
as when everything seems to be dead
in winter and later proves to be alive.

Now I’ll count to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.

~ Pablo Neruda

where the columbia meets the pacific

Last weekend we took a little family day and headed out to Astoria on the Oregon Coast.  We'd never really explored this town before.  As usual, we had some letterbox clues to guide us to some fantastic locales.

At 600 feet above sea level, Coxcomb Hill is Astoria's highest point.  It has some really amazing views and is home to the Astoria Column.

"The story behind the Column, its deterioration and rescue by the Friends of Astoria Column, rivals the history it depicts." (from AstoriaColumn.org)

In addition to the history lessons and the awe inspiring views available here, one can purchase these fun balsa wood gliders for $1 at the gift shop and throw them off the top of the tower or down the grassy hill.

The woman at the shop said this now commonplace tourist activity began as a fundraiser and also as a way to keep people from throwing other things off of the tower... like bowling balls.   (Apparently, before the renovations and prior to the ground around the tower being cemented, the locals used to do this to see how far the balls would imbed themselves into the earth.)

We had a blast with just our little gliders for a couple of hours.

After a beautiful morning at the tower we crossed the Columbia from Oregon to Washington on the Astoria-Megler Bridge (the longest continuous-truss bridge in North America).  After driving up Hwy 101 we spent the rest of our afternoon at Cape Disappointment State Park.

 

The coast of Washington might just rival that of our home state.

It was an on-again, off-again, overcast, glorious day.

our old beloved house

For over ten years I have loved this old house.  We've made many changes over time, replacing most of the windows, adding skylights and a new roof, an entire bathroom (including claw foot tub) and the grand front porch.  We've stripped the beautiful moulding, re-finished wooden floors, re-tiled the fireplace and re-painted every white wall that was here the day we moved in.  In return, she's been quite good to us, considering she's over a hundred years old. 

We had talked about selling her for years.  She's too big for us really.  We're a family of three with one renter in the basement.  We'd like less house and more yard; more room for Naiya to play and RUN.  We'd like to be in a more neighborhood-y neighborhood.  A quiet street maybe or, in our wilder dreams, on a tiny farm.  So, we decided to take the plunge.  We put her up for sale.  

She was snatched up in three days.

At the moment, we're not sure where we'll end up.  And so the adventure begins...

Farewell, old house.  We're going to miss you...

Our basement apartment has helped us to afford our mortgage over the past decade and held close some dear friends.

Our back yard went through a number of incarnations over the years.  It began as a rectangle of cement, weeds and chain link fence.  Bits at a time we added raised beds, a play house, espaliar apple and pear trees, blueberry bushes, a pond (that came and went) and for three years hosted a small flock of hens.  In the end, it was a delightful lush getaway with a crazy volunteer squash taking over a big chunk of lawn and all of a small raised bed...

 Bye, bye garden.  So long dear house.  May you last one hundred more...

lent

(This time around, I'm just re-publishing my Lenten post of last year because, you know, sometimes I'm a little busy...)

 “No, we’re not Catholic,” we tell our friends, “but, it’s true, we often observe Lent.”  Some people think this is kind of nuts.  Admittedly, it seems odd, but I was reading this article on the science of self denial by Jeffrey Kluger of Time today and I feel like it offered some insight into why the observance of holidays like Lent can be beneficial for those of both the religious and secular persuasions (and to some degree explains why we have taken to observing it ourselves.)   It was about how this season is not only one of spiritual penance, piety, and submission but also one which leads to the development of impulse control and, ultimately, can lead to greater self confidence and even increased happiness.  Kluger writes:

When it comes to good-time holidays, Lent does not rank very high. Nor do Ramadan or Yom Kippur, of course, and no wonder. They are all about saying no to something (or many things) you love. Where's the egg nog and holiday joy in all that? But we observe these less-than-festive celebrations all the same -- and we have good reason to do so. There are hidden benefits to so much ritualized self-denial...

   Lent has traditionally been a time of penance and abstention, a time to contemplate the sufferings and temptations of Christ as he fasted for forty days in the wilderness.  Historically, this was a time when certain Christians removed all animal flesh, dairy and eggs from their diets and gave renewed focus to prayer and charity. 

   Neither Ryan or I grew up observing this kind of asceticism, but there’s something about the Lenten season that has always appealed to us.  It’s the focus on temperance and self sacrifice and the turning inward toward contemplation and stillness that just seems appropriate for this time of year.  (Also, my willpower could really use a whole season dedicated to its strengthening any time.)

Every time an observer of Lent craves -- and resists the lure of -- a forbidden indulgence is a tiny reminder of a commitment made...  Neurologists and behavioral psychologists generally think of willpower as what's known as "domain general," which means that the more you practice it to control one behavior -- say, overeating -- the more it starts to apply itself to other parts of your life like exercising more or drinking less...

   Additionally, there’s something in knowing that there is a whole community of folks out there struggling to strengthen their will with me.  Through the experience of abstention, I think, we all come to foster gratitude for the plenty that we regularly enjoy.  With our modern culture’s tendency toward overindulgence, many of us live in varying states of excess, almost always giving in to our impulses.  We’re quite attached to food, drink, media, comfort, pretty things and modern conveniences of every kind.  It’s easy to forget that all over the world (and even in our own local communities) people struggle just to survive.  Giving a vice or a pleasure up by choice, it seems to me, helps to strengthen something within us and also connects us, in a small way, to the greater community in which we live.  

   For the children in our lives (who are forever living in a world of imitation), I think the Lenten mood helps cultivate a feeling of reverence and gratitude as well.  Who doesn't need more of that, right?  Despite religious affiliations (or lack thereof), maybe it's not so strange that folks embrace this season of sacrifice and all it has to offer. 

   "Happy Lent" surely isn't the proper salutation here but... I'd like to wish that the spirit of this season rests untroubled in your hearts.  Happy renunciation to all?   

jokes for five year olds - V

We've been collecting our ridiculous jokes for five year olds for over a year now.  These are (and always have been) my favorite kind.  I'll keep posting them as we come across them even though Naiya is now six.

The other day I was talking to the seventh grade teacher at our school and she was saying that most jokes folks tell nowadays are actually riddles.  This is true of all of those I've posted thus far.  But she was looking for jokes that were instead in story form; not question and answers but tales with a funny punch line at the end.  I sent her this one that is adapted from one of my recent favorite fantasy novel reads (Wise Man's Fear by Patrick Rothfuss).  It had Ryan and I rolling on the floor when we first came across it and Naiya likes me to re-tell it for all her friends.  (Specific references to places and characters in the story have been removed.)  Enjoy...


    Once upon a time there was a little boy born in a little town.  He was perfect, or so his mother thought.  But one thing was different about him. He had a gold screw in his belly button.  Just the head of it peeping out. 

    Now his mother was simply glad he had all his fingers and toes to count with.  But as the boy grew up he realized not everyone had screws in their belly buttons, let alone gold ones.  He asked his mother what it was for, but she didn't know.  Next he asked his father, but his father didn't know.  He asked his grandparents, but they didn't know either.

    That settled it for a while, but it kept nagging him.  Finally, when he was old enough, he packed a bag and set out, hoping he could find someone who knew the truth of it.

    He went from place to place, asking everyone who claimed to know something about anything.  He asked midwives and physickers, but they couldn't make heads or tails of it.  The boy asked tinkers and old hermits living in the woods, but no one had ever seen anything like it.

    He went to ask the merchants, thinking if anyone would know about gold, it would be them.  But the merchants didn't know.  He went to the engineers at the university, thinking if anyone would know about screws and their workings, they would.  But the engineers didn't know.  The boy followed the road farther to ask the wise women in the hills, but none of them could give him an answer.

    Eventually, he went to the richest king in the world.  But the king didn't know.  He went to the Emperor, but even with all his power, the emperor didn't know.  He went to each of the small kingdoms, one by one, but no one could tell him anything.

    Finally, the boy went to the High King, the wisest of all the kings in the world.  The high king looked closely at the head of the golden screw peeping from the boy's belly button.  Then the high king made a gesture, and his seneschal brought out a pillow of golden silk.  On that pillow was a golden box.  The high king took a golden key from his neck, opened the box, and inside was a golden screwdriver.

    The high king took the screwdriver and motioned the boy to come closer.  Trembling with excitement, the boy did.  Then the high king took the golden screwdriver and put it in the boy's belly button.

   Then the high king carefully turned the golden screw.  
Once: Nothing.  
Twice: Nothing.  
Then he turned it the third time, and the boy's butt fell off.

house party

Last year we started talking about having a party for our house.  The records are a bit foggy on the date but the general consensus seems to indicate that the old gal was built in 1912.  For those in Europe or even on the east coast of the U.S., I know our home is laughably adolescent but here in Portland, Oregon I think 100 is considered somewhat historic.  (Oregon itself only became a state on Valentine's Day 53 years before this structure came to be.)
Anyhow, we like hosting gatherings and sometimes we've got to think up an event around which to plan them.  Despite all its structural and cosmetic issues and less than optimal location, we love our old house.  We think it deserved a party for making it this long.

For kicks, I thought it would be fun to make a house shaped cake.  Let it be said that I have never attempted anything of this sort before.  Perhaps I never will again.
"You're not putting that on your blog are you?" my husband asked when I was snapping photos of my confectionery wonder.  I glared at him and he went on..."It's just not up to your usual high standards," he kindly added.
I let that go.
It is kind of sad.
Don't even mention its lack of dormers and porch rails.

 

My sister-in-law, Kim makes some amazing cakes in the likeness of an array of animals and book and movie characters.  Surely a boxy house would have super simple for her, but she's had practice and knows which materials would work best.  And... well, she lives in California (or I might have recruited her and her services).  I was doing my best and working with graham crackers and popsicle sticks!  Anyhow, the kids loved it.  Because what kid doesn't love cake in any shape.

And a party just isn't a party without the pointy hats.

Happy birthday old house.

 We hope you make it for a hundred more.

scarlett

I've had a pretty on-again, off-again blogging record this Summer.  As our daughter gets older, there seems to be quite a bit more happening on the activity and entertainment front and so our outings and little vacations have taken precedent over time spent in front of the computer as well as time spent on crafts and stories.  I even missed posting about the ever elusive mid-summer celebration of Lughnasadh.  (Huh?  We'll talk about it later...)  Anyhow, my latest absence is related to another distraction entirely.

Last week our dear 10 month old cat Scarlett (half of the brother/sister pair that Naiya was gifted for Christmas) was in an accident.  It was a bit traumatic and I'll spare the gory details.  In the end, it turns out she is almost perfectly fine just a week later.  (Hurrah!)
She has a lower sympheal fracture.  This essentially means that her jaw was broken at its weakest point - right in the middle.  Her upper jaw and one of her canines were also fractured but didn't require surgery and are supposed to heal on their own.  The lower one is wired together (you can see the plastic coated wire protruding under her chin in the photo) and our poor kitty is now house bound for six weeks.  (For all those who think cats should be kept only indoors in order to avoid such tragedies as befell her, I'm afraid that even after this trauma, we'll just have to agree to disagree.  I understand the stance and I respect that choice but it isn't for us or for those cats destined to be part of our home.)  Scarlett is going batty in the house.  She pines at the door and stares longingly out the window for great lengths of time.
We're just so happy to have our healthy cat back as part of our family.
And blogging will soon return at its regular intervals...

a special visit to the fairie garden

We had some special visitors to our fairy garden this afternoon...

jokes for five year olds - II

Why do sharks only swim in salt water?

                  Because pepper water would make them sneeze.

walking stick medallions

   I remember seeing pictorial medallions like these in Europe (and didn't know they existed here) but, on our recent trip to The Tetons, we happened upon a woman with a walking stick decorated with them from various National Parks and other locations around the U.S..  Turns out you can get these things everywhere.








 I thought they would be great mementos of regions we explore with Naiya and fun collectibles that wouldn't take up much space or cost a whole lot of money.  (Collecting seems to be a huge interest at this age.)

 At a visitor center in Grand Teton National Park then, we picked up two (two since they were our first and we couldn't decide on one).





 When Ryan recently brought home a great driftwood staff, Naiya and I shined it up with a little beeswax and she helped tack on the medallions herself.

A new hobby is born.

grand teton national park - part 1

I have been remiss in my blogging.
With hundreds of Teton vacation photos resting in my computer just waiting to be let out, all else is backing up.  I know my folks want to see them and I know most everyone else probably doesn't...  A little voice in the back of my head keeps crazy whispering "No one likes vacation slide shows!!"
I am at an impasse.
Friends, I apologize.  I just can't ignore such a beautiful chunk of our summer.  The crafts and seasonal goodness are going to have to wait.  Come on now, grab yourselves a barcalounger and a can of beer.  This summer we took a trip to Grand Teton National Park...
(Many thanks again to our good friends Lisa and Jeff who pretty much planned this whole trip.  We're glad we were able to travel together and so enjoyed all of our time with you.  It was great for the girls to try out siblinghood with each other I think and Naiya so adores you both.  As do I :)  Can't wait to try it again some time!)  

 Our two combined families (one five year old girl each) stayed for a few days at Dornan's Spur Ranch Cabins.  Dornan's is a 77 year-old family-owned resort in the middle of Grand Teton National Park.  It's a 10 acre complex with about a dozen small cabins, a restaurant/bar with a view, a gas pump, a small store/gift shop, a very well-stocked wine shoppe (their spelling, not mine), a few outdoor adventure rental places and a "chuckwagon".  Yup, a chuckwagon.  That's how they advertise it.  I was expecting to be served my all-you-can-eat pancake breakfast from an actual wagon but really it's just a covered outdoor grill...and then there's a giant teepee.  (?)  Go figure.
 Chuckwagon confusion aside, it was a great place to stay.  Beautiful views, convenient location and cozy cabin to boot.

 The day after we arrived, we took a float ride down the Snake River.  Unfortunately I didn't take my camera on this adventure but we saw quite an array of wildlife which, following our already exciting beaver spotting on the drive in, set us up for a grand animal viewing week to follow.  We witnessed a herd of elk (including one swimming across the river), spied a number of bald eagles, a few white pelicans and some yellow bellied marmots.

(This moose shot was taken on a different day.)

 Our first hike attempt was a little rough with our not-so-keen-on-hiking five year old, but Phelps Lake was beautiful and on that escapade, some of us saw our first ever bear in the wild - a grizzly!  (She was about 50 yards downhill from us and we didn't get any pics of her before she turned and wandered back into the trees and we quickly headed the other direction.)

 Our second hike followed a boat ride across Jenny Lake.  After side tracking for a letterbox on our way up, we made it (this time without carrying our daughter once!) to beautiful Inspiration Point.

(Not that interesting a shot until you notice the squirrel peaking out from a hole in the trunk.)

 Inspirational indeed.

 On another day we rode bikes (7 miles) to this same lake and enjoyed a refreshing swim and picnic lunch.

The Tetons loom over every pleasure one takes in the park.  They're a gorgeous range and, apparently, the third most photographed mountains in the world.

(More to come with part 2!)