Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Around the Garden

Posted in Uncategorized on August 19, 2012| 1 Comment »

This was a lazy weekend. It was not so much by choice, but by a simple lack of water.

I woke up Saturday morning with foot cramps. Foot cramps became leg cramps throughout the morning. I realized rather quickly that it was more than likely a simple case of dehydration. Except it wasn’t that simple: by mid-afternoon, my legs were still occasionally cramping despite the copious amount of water I drank throughout the day. I added lemonade and juice to my regime, swallowed potassium and magnesium supplements and by eventide the cramping had abated.

This morning I went out and bought some Gatorade (which I detest) in an effort to replace the electrolytes my body was missing. Usually I can get that with lemonade but since I was so stupid as to let myself become severely dehydrated, I needed an extra boost. Today was much the same: taking in copious amounts of water and supplementing my normally healthy diet with minerals like potassium and magnesium. The spasms died off Saturday afternoon late, but I don’t want to take a chance of returning to that miserable place any time soon.

It was too uncomfortable to try to do anything: if I paused or knelt, some muscle in one or both legs would scream out for hydration. If I rested, the cramping would come on suddenly and I’d have to be up, walking. Flexing the muscles is the only way out of a cramp and walking was the only effective way to flex the muscles.

Since I was otherwise occupied in nervous movement, I was not very effective as a house cleaner or gardener. That isn’t to say I was completely lazy: I did the minimum work in the house and I managed to get most of the front yard whipped into shape and I read a lot. I finished one book and started the sequel.

And I drank a lot of healthy fluids.

I sat outside in the shade and read when I wasn’t flexing my muscles to fight off the constant cramping.

The Anna’s hummingbirds paid me several visits, often hovering six feet away from my face with their heads tipped slightly: “Who are you and why are you sitting in my garden?” Of course I never had my camera handy when they paused to ask me that question.

Once I looked up from my book and saw the female Anna’s hovering a few feet from Harvey’s nose: “Are you dangerous? Will you chase me? Is it safe to hover in the flowers by you?” Harvey answered with a blink.

The Anna’s love my hummingbird feeders, but they also love the flowers currently in bloom in my yard.

The cerinthe retorta (above) and the salvia “hot lips” are both big hits with the hummers, along with the fading Russian sage and the gladiolas. I’m very happy the hummers are happy.

The bees are happy, too. I think I have mentioned it here before, but we love bees. All kinds of bees: mason bees, sweat bees, honey bees, bumble bees and all the bees no one ever notices in their yard. Wasps are tolerated as well (except I am not too fond of yellowjackets in August). Hornets can be tolerated as long as their nest is in someone else’s yard. We usually have a dozen mud-daubers hovering around the garage, but I haven’t seen them this summer.

There are so many kinds of bumblebees. They are not usually very shy, either. This one stayed where he was on the fading blossoms of oregano for several photos. He was a small bumblebee and pale yellow. Just look at his eyes! he seems to be taking in the camera as much as it is taking him in.

In the limited space allotted to Bees, Wasps, and Kin in the Audubon Field Guide to Insects of North America, I think this might be a “Digger Wasp” but I can’t be certain because the definition of their territory is more southern. Whatever it is, it loves the Pearly Everlasting  (Anaphalis margaritacea) that I transplanted to my garden from the mountains. Pearly Everlasting is a favorite flower of mine, too. The wasp is not an aggressive wasp but is certainly a bright color addition.

I like this black-and-white striped bee.

Honey bees are not native to the North Americas. They were introduced by homesick Europeans – one of the few invasive species that have done us a good turn rather than a bad turn. I would love to know where the hive is: which park? There’s one to the east of us, one to the south of us, and a wild one to the north of us. Or is there a bee-keeper in the neighborhood?

I don’t know if this is the same black-and-white bee as in the former photo. I don’t think so: I think this one is a larger bee. But I could be very wrong.

In other random garden news, I paid $35 for this. I did not splurge on it, but gave it a lot of thought. I saw several interesting wind chimes by this artist at the Oregon City Farmer’s Market a couple weeks ago. She had a sign posted on her booth:

Sure, you can make it yourself. But be honest: you won’t. But I will.

I thought about that for two weeks. I would make it myself. But in the interest of helping a fellow artist along, I decided to buy a wind chime from her.

And promptly lost her business card. But if you live near Oregon City, just go to the Farmer’s Market. She’ll be there.

I bought this from my cousin at last year’s Family Reunion. She bought it somewhere and regifted it at the reunion. I would have a hard time putting all that flatware out in my yard except some other artist drilled it, hung it, soldered it and created art out of it.

But I have no problem with china.

I do not usually get a photo of this. Don asked me about it the other night: did I ever see bees on it?

No, because it is only open when it is night or heavily overcast. It’s an Evening Primrose. I do not know how it came to be in my yard – I didn’t plant it – but I am not going to weed it back out now that it has drifted here. I remember the Evening Primroses from my childhood in Nevada, bright stars of color in the fading sunlight.

I have seen moths gathering around it. In Nevada, we often caught Hummingbird moths by the Evening Primroses.

Have I mentioned that we did not plant a vegetable garden this year? It was too cold and wet for the months when we should have been planting and then we were off on vacation. So I was surprised to find this volunteer in my back shade garden. And look: now I even have a couple small tomatoes! Wonder if they’ll ripen or not?

I almost forgot to share this! The neighborhood cats have discovered that there is a fresh source of water in our front yard. Apparently their owners do not set out water dishes for them and so they find our birdbath a welcome addition. Hmmm – the guilty owner is even in the background! One of four of their cats can be found in our birdbath at different times.

Of course, if she has water in a dish for her cats, I apologize. But by the frequency in which I find cats in the bird bath, I doubt it. I do not go out of my way to chase the thirsty animals off but they are afraid of me and run, anyway.

Speaking of bird baths… this is what Donald convinced me we needed to do with my wrought-iron planter: a bird bath in the back yard for the small birds. The ceramic dish was a Goodwill purchase.

My buddy. Despite the dehydration and cramps, we went on two walks this weekend and we hung out in the back yard together. I even took him out into the front yard for awhile when I was cleaning out from under the rhododendrons.

Remember those neighbor cats? Well, one came around the corner of the fence, unprepared to meet a big dog in the front yard. And Harvey? Harvey managed to flip himself over when he hit the end of the tether I had him on. It was actually rather funny, but I expect he wasn’t amused.

Just me.

Read Full Post »

Listening to the Muse

Posted in Uncategorized on August 13, 2012| 2 Comments »

This morning when I put the dogs out, I noticed the moon.

I wondered what planet was up so early on an August morning. And I ran inside to fetch my camera in the hopes I could capture the elusive moon.

I have been thinking a lot about creativity lately. I have been in a creative slump. Unfinished oil paintings sit on my easels. I haven’t sketched in ages. I found ink pen nibs in a business card holder on my desk and thought about the last time I used them.

It was a very long time ago.

Drawing is like a best friend. You can spend years apart but when you meet up again, you pick up the friendship right where you left, as if time had never intervened.

The only creative thing that I have done in recent months has been to experiment with glues and ceramics.

But this post is not about the success (or lack thereof) that I had with different ceramic glues ad the weather.

It is about the stirring in my heart and soul that draws me back to the roots of who I am. Who I was created to be.

I set myself aside for so many years that I hardly remember who I used to be or who I wanted to be. I do not regret that: my children were the greatest part of my life and I miss them horridly now that they have grown and are forging their own lives far away and without me. That is as it should be: the sacrifice, the growing apart, the mourning.

I am suddenly in a place where I can rekindle my dreams.

I find myself walking down the halls at work and admiring the lighting. It casts strange shadows on the walls and I imagine myself as a little girl trying to walk with the light: stretching up when it reaches for the ceiling and squatting down to walk under the shadows where the light fades and back up again.

I find myself staring out at the trees and seeing a green dragon curled up on the limbs, blinking its warm golden eyes and me before smiling and disappearing into the leaves.

I remember the girl who danced in the rain. That was in a place where rain – and warm rain, especially – was an oddity. Barefoot on warm asphalt, in jeans and a smock top, but my memory makes it a white cotton dress that billows around me as I twirl to some unheard song in the background. And laughing, I look up to see my parents in the front door watching me, slightly amused.

It’s a favorite memory.

At Faerieworlds, I felt myself begin to tap into something I had not sensed in a very long time. Something primal that I had buried under a lot of adult rules and mores about growing up. It teased at me, like the out-going tide. And I knew if I waded out too far, it would carry me off like the rip tide and I would be helpless against its flow.

I resisted.

Why did I resist? Because I am an adult? Because I am a Christian and the images I see in my head are not exactly outlined in the Bible, and being so cannot be from God? Isn’t the litmus test whether or not they do harm, not whether or not the Church approves?

The Church painted clothes on Michelangelo’s masterpieces on the ceilings of a number of churches, including the Sistine Chapel. Michelangelo did not clothe his images. I believe to this day that the artist heard from God; the Church heard from Man.

But that little political rant aside, I have been trying to listen to that voice. The voice of the muse.

And little images have begun to float in my mind. Projects. Ideas.

Colors.

Tonight, I saw a vivid arrangement of colors in my mind’s eye, stuck in traffic on I-205 and trying to stay in the moment so I didn’t drive into someone’s bumper. I saw a vivid blue back ground and an open hand. Millions of lights flashed out of the hand, like seeds being sown. I saw a painting I did a very long time ago on a trunk that has since been destroyed and I knew that I needed to return to that moment, to that person, to that art.

I allowed the trunk to be destroyed in a bizarre moment of conformity.

God did not create me to conform. He created me to create.

And as I turned the last corner before pulling into my drive tonight, this song came on the radio. I don’t even particularly like Aerosmith, but this song is timeless.

It was also very timely.

 

 

Read Full Post »

3rd and Washington

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged on August 12, 2012| 1 Comment »

Could have been 2nd & Washington. I wasn’t paying attention to what the cross street was: I was intent on yard sale find. The day was Saturday, August 11. The big McLoughlin Historic District Annual Garage Sale was on and I was cruising. I parked my car on 4th and Washington, by St. John’s Catholic Church and private school. I was headed toward the second cluster of yard sales in the oldest city on the West Coast and the End of the Oregon Trail: Oregon City.

The sidewalks are mean. Tree roots have grown under the concrete and pushed it up. Years of ice storms have eroded the concrete. You have to keep one eye down on the ground to walk, otherwise you’ll catch a toe on an edge and tumble.

Here, along Washington Street, it is quiet. The main traffic runs up 5th Street or south on Center Street, one block to the west. The houses are smaller and the yards tinier, but they are still bungalows and Queen Anne style, and ringed with picket fences. They tend to be one-story homes here.

I turned west on the side street. I think it is 3rd, but it could be 2nd. Oregon City is odd in that 7th St is the main east-west thoroughfare, followed closely by 5th and 10th. 1st St is lost somewhere to the south, a narrow little street.

Main Street is on the river level of town; the McLoughlin District is on the first bluff level of town. I live on the next tier.

I crossed the street, jay-walking because there is no traffic here. I can see a yard sale on the corner of Center and whatever street I am on. The street seems to close in on me. I step up onto the sidewalk in front of the garage one house over from the corner. The house it belongs to is a yellow bungalow with a low porch and a 3′ tall chain-link fence in front. The yard is overgrown, the windows closed tight and the yellow shades all pulled as if the house has closed its eyes and lips. It exudes an unfriendly quality.

Next door, to the west, is a low brick building with a quaint picket fence out front. Dry rot has eaten away at the pickets. The whitewash has eroded away. It is old, lonely, sad.

The yard sale on the corner is desolate. No one is sitting outside minding the wares: old VHS tapes, size 10 women’s shoes, mildewy clothes on racks.

I turn and retrace my steps along the sidewalk back to Washington. I wonder about the people who live here and wish I had a camera to capture the worn picket fence. Someone would probably come out and yell at me for taking photos. The pickets hang and the nails rust.

Walking this direction, I can see into the back yard of the sleeping yellow bungalow. Blackberry vines reach up into the air like the vines in a scene from a Tom Robbins’ novel about Seattle. Someone lives here. S0meone old and lonely. A witch from a Harry Potter novel. The trees throw Hallowe’en shadows in the mid-morning summer sunshine.

Around the corner, I pass a set of one-story apartments in disrepair. A tall bush-cum-tree presses up against the building. An air conditioner has been placed in the window and pushed out against the limbs of the bush/tree, anchoring the unit in place. A stuffed brown pillow fills the gap between unit and wall.

As I examine this set-up, I feel as if eyes are on me. I smile to myself.

This is fodder for a very good scary story a la Ray Bradbury. I make a note to myself to revisit this street in the autumn, when the leaves have changed and October beckons.

All I purchase is a pair of black Naugahyde boots for $5.

Tonight, I watched bats swoop into the dimming light. snatching up to pine beetles and mosquitoes.

I want to revisit that street with a camera.

Read Full Post »

Yard Sales Finds

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , on August 11, 2012| 3 Comments »

I have begun to think yard sales this summer are a bust. I have only been to a few before today and it seems that people put too much value in the stuff they want to get rid of. So I haven’t purchased very much.

I am also maxed out in the junk department and I really need to purge my home before I start adding too many more trinkets. That has a tendency to put the kabosh on shopping for junk, too. Where am I going to put it? What am I going to do with it?

A couple of weeks ago, I picked up this vase for twenty-five cents. I am a sucker for funky vases and this one is funky.

Funky, but utilitarian. Now that’s the kind of bargain I like to find when I’m out “shopping” other people’s junk.

There’s a story behind Captain Jack here. I have a couple Internet friends who are in love with Johnny Depp. And this (cheap) (but excellent condition) poster made me think of the pair of them. I still have to package it and ship it, but it is going to one very pleased Internet friend in the very near future.

I bought this darling blouse last weekend. Paid a dollar for it.

After I got it home and really looked at it, I found this. Actually, there are two red greasy stains like that on it. Why do people sell the stuff they know is stained? Just throw it away or make a rag out of it!

I liked that blouse enough that I decided to try dyeing it the same color as the little stains.

New life! I’ll get a little bit of wear out of it for my dollar + RIT dye.

Today was the big “McLoughlin Historic Neighborhood Garage Sale” which is a sweet small town event where many of the neighbors in the older part of Oregon City (the oldest city on the West Coast, by the way) sell their stuff. There’s a traveling antique dealer who sets out all the stuff he couldn’t sell on the road, a church that throws a rummage sale, and a myriad of folks who just want to get in on the fun and make a few bucks. The sales tend to be clustered together, so it is best to park your car and wear comfortable shoes. You can walk five or six blocks and circle around, return to your car and move to the next cluster. That way, if you buy something bulky your car is never too far away.

One busy street slices through the neighborhood, but in Oregon City drivers are polite: when a pedestrian steps off the curb, everyone stops. Most of the time, anyway. It’s a small town and folks are friendly.

I did find a few things today that I wanted enough to pay the prices asked.

The tiles came from one sale. I have no idea what I will use them for, but they were cheap and I know I will use them. I will probably use them as pavers in one of my garden beds.

But the plant stand… I went out looking for one. I have a little project in mind. I wasn’t actually picturing a wrought iron plant stand. This one had a big, ugly vintage 1960’s planter sitting lopsided in it. And a price tag of $15. I told the seller (that antique dealer I mentioned) that I did not want the planter.

He said he’d sell the whole thing to me for $12 *if* I would take the planter, too.

I took the vintage ceramic planter. Remember that.

I also bought this cast iron bird from him. $5. About 6″ long. Not sure what it used to go on top of, but am very certain I will find a new use for it soon.

Some sort of use like this (I just put this together for the photo – the ceramic tiles are definitely not going to go there but the little bird feeder most certainly will go there).

I found this mirror at one sale ($3). The boots were at another sale ($5). The boots aren’t much until you remember that I have nifty little Faerietoes from Faerieworlds.

Those boots are perfect! And the vintage mirror? Well, I definitely have a place for the mirror – and a use.

But that was IT. All that walking, and that was my haul. I threw up my hands and went to the grocery store to get the next week’s installment of food. And on the way home from the grocery store, I said to myself, “Just ONE more stop…”

If you know me at all, you know what a great find this is! Hardbound. The entire set of Cornelia Funke’s Inkheart series plus a bonus book. $4. Plus, the two women running this yard sale were witty and well-read. We stood and critiqued a number of YA popular novels (Twilight, Hunger Games) and our insatiable need to read.

And I inquired about the little secretary dresser. $5. And they would help me load it.

I pulled forward (which involved double-parking because just as I was going to pull forward, someone else stopped at the yard sale and parked in the way).

Unfortunately, I had all the junk from all the other yard sales plus my groceries in my car – and the seats were up. I had to unload to lay the seats down in order to put the secretary in there. And that meant setting out the plant stand with the vintage 1960’s planter.

“Oh! You found a vintage planter!” shrieked one of the women in delight.

I left the planter with her.

I got the secretary in the house and up the stairs, but I have to clear a space for it in my studio. It’s a bit beat up, but quite functional. 39″ tall, 30″ wide, 16″ deep (before the desk is opened).

This is how it looks when the shelf is up. My mother had one (hers was more of a desk below) but my brother inherited that. I like this one, too.

And for the money I spent at the last yard sale – it was the very best one.

Now I am going to go sit out in the shade of the Hawthorne tree and reread Inkheart before I get started on the rest of the series. I may even watch the movie tonight.

Read Full Post »

Once in a Blue Moon in the PNW

Posted in Uncategorized on August 5, 2012| Leave a Comment »

Summer came! Summer will be gone by the end of the week, but it arrived yesterday with the first triple digit temperature we have had in over three years. Today was the first time in over 1,000 days since we had a day in the 90’s (Farenheit).

The humidity will probably kill me, but I am absolutely *not* going to complain that it finally got hot enough to complain. It’s too hot to sleep, and that is wonderful. I have missed you, Summer.

In celebration, I took several photos around the yard today (I did nothing today and it was wonderful, too).

 A bee taking flight.

  A slug trail across a spider web.

Fireweed.

Oregon Grape. Somewhere I have a recipe for Oregon Grape jelly. It requires a lot of sugar but no pectin. T have never tried it out. Oregon grapes are not sweet by nature, but I bet they make awesome jelly.

Guess I should try out the recipe.

Nightshade.

It’s such a pretty flower.

The tree paeony after I watered.

I love the play of droplets on leaves.

A bee and a beetle on the Pearly Everlasting. I was so focused on the bee when I took the photo that I was surprised to have captured a beetle, too.

I love Pearly Everlasting.

A bumblebee on the lavender.

My volunteer tomato plant (that still has no blossoms).

The blackberry canes growing over our fence from the neightbor’s yard. Loverly.

(The fuschia in the foreground is mine. It’s kind of a pain, but I love the tube flowers.)

Our big dog run.

OK – it’s still a work in progress. Don doesn’t get into any big hurry. he cut the holly tree down. Now we have to pull the stump, dig out our blackberries and all the nightshade before we can even pour a foundation…

The broad-tailed hummingbird at my new hummer feeder.

And the following are from another day:

      

An Osprey circling overhead. I could hear it calling from a long ways off. I put the 75-300 mm lens on and attempted to capture it in flight as it circled over the bluff.

Look at those wings!

That is one awesome eagle.

And the “nothing” I did today:

        This time I kept copious notes on what glue I used so I will remember to use it next time. I used four different glues. I do not intend to attempt to sell these. i just want them for my garden. For me to enjoy.

And maybe the birds if I put water or seed in them.

*If* I can keep cats out of them.

Happy Summer.

We get it once in a Blue Moon around here.

Our Blue Moon is August 31 this year.

Read Full Post »

Lost in the Faerieworld

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged on July 30, 2012| 4 Comments »

I have never quite figured out what these beasts are in the faerie kingdom, but they are quite simple creatures and rather aboriginal. They have always been at Faerieworlds, so far as I know.

They move around the venue, piling straw into nests and heart-shaped circles. They seem to live on fruits (watermelon is an obvious favorite), but they have long fangs and act threatening when they feel threatened. I believe they are quite harmless, more shy than dangerous.

Pardon the background noises, but I thought it wise to include the sounds of Faerieworlds (note that darn parrot in there!)

Then there is this Forest denizen. I want to call him The Green Man, but he isn’t quite that. More of a Moss Man.

He is also quite harmless (as you can tell by his interaction with the Faerie). I had to cut the video short because the Clueless walked in front of me and then just stopped. But you get the idea.

And there are the dancers.

It is difficult to get close enough to the main stage to capture the hedonistic dancers: too many, too crowded, and too many watchers. But this young faerie was off to the side, entirely lost in the music and the beauty of her own wings.

There is no sound because I do not own the rights to the music being played (Trillium Green was the band) and also because the young faerie stands on her own as a dancer without the music. You can feel it in her movements.

Occasionally, she would pause and watch her wings settle, smile in exhilaration and then begin her dance again.

She reminded me of the wee faeries that rise over a still water on a warm spring eventide, flitting up and down amongst the rise of Mayflies, Damselflies, and Stoneflies.

And that is a brief glimpse into Faerieworlds from my camera.

Read Full Post »

Faerieworlds!

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged on July 29, 2012| 2 Comments »

Ms. Danu Saturnfly and I flitted ourselves on down to Eugene, Oregon, to join the dozens of other Fey Folk in a celebration of everything Faerie and Magickal.

It was unfamiliar territory for both of us: I did not know the way and Ms. Danu had never been to Faerieworlds. We only made two wrong turns and both were easily corrected. Hooray for a good navigator and an innate sense of direction!

My dear friend, Lady Mary Foley, was there with some wee-folk  (grandchildren) and the Leprechaun, Walter O’Shaughnessy. (I may have spelled Walter’s name incorrectly, but I did me best)

       This Gallivanting Fox of a Fellow was only quite happy to pose for the camera. I didn’t ask where he was headed with that axe… But he had such a happy little jaunt in his step. Step in his jaunt?

I loved her wings. I had to edit her companion out of the photo, however: such a sour and angry face! It was very out-of-place with the event, so I simply made her disappear!

Poof!

At Faerieworlds, all manner of people get along for the day. Here was have a Satyr sauntering along with a Pirate & Wench, a sort of Knight (?) and a… Steampunk?

More beautiful wings on the faerie on the right. The Red Faerie seems to be admiring those wings as well.

The “self-proclaimed” Wizard of Faerieworlds made a loud and disastrous entrance into the Realm. But I did like the Fey behind him, to the right, walking away past the May Pole.

    There are so many things I could say about this young Barbarian. Bad posture. Great personality. He was quite the charmer. And I have no idea how he kept his skin so shiny white in the sun that beat down on us. Besides his tats, he was showing off his Pacific Northwest “Moon-tan”.

Some Beautiful Faeries! (Note the Fey in the top hat,  far left corner – I never did see her smile and she managed to fit herself into several photos of mine.)

Why, there she is, up close! And still frowning!

And again!

This Bad Faerie has captured a… I’d say a Faun, but he’s hidden his hooves inside of Tennis Shoes!

More lovely wings. We don’t ask about the thong…

These Faeries were traveling together. They were all quite sweet (and admired my home-grown wings as well).

“Oh! I put these on and suddenly I feel like I am making sense of the world!” she exclaimed. A moment later, she removed the glasses and uttered, “Oh, my! Suddenly I feel like I have no brain!”

It is not unusual to see a Unicorn in the Realm.

My Faire Fey companion, Ms. Danu Saturnfly.

 The Male Faeries were diverse as well: Simply adorned to flashy grins and wings!

Musical

Ready for War.

I kept hearing a sharp bird cry. I do not know how many times I looked at this Wood Elf, trying to determine the origination of the bird call. Can you see it? Atop his head!

(Quit looking at the background! I have video of the Aboriginal Faeries for another post)

    The parrot was not intimidated by the Barbarian Vampires.

At 3:00 PM (more or less, since we were on an Adventure), we met with the Ladies Mary Foley (left) and Desdemona (far right) for High Tea under the canopy in the Campground. Besides myself (Ms. Rose Bindweed) and my guest, Ms. Danu Saturnfly, we were graced with the presence of a French Faerie (with the Pixie hat) and her companion Faerie from the North Aegean Sea. Sadly, I do not recall their (foreign) names.

I do, however, recall their mission: they are guardians of the Park on Mt. Pisgah and take great care to protect the native flora of the area.

Many other fey folk paused to watch us as we partook of the wonderful spread provided by Lady Mary Foley (cucumber-and-cream cheese sandwiches, fruit, hot tea and wonderful desserts). One rather bold Barbarian even approached to remark how wonderful it was that we could pause to have High Tea. Then she curtsied!

More Faeries traversing the Pathway to the Village away from the Realm. I believe the Barbarian in the Utili-kilt was jealous of the leg-extensions!

A curtsey at the end of a dance.

A Norse Faerie with a Faerie… Raven? They were well-put together!

     The Gypsies learned Caravan Art from the Faeries. Or perhaps it is the other way around? There was a strong Gypsy influence on the traveling homes of the Fey.

  A typical Merchant booth in the Realm. This year, the merchants were – by and large – quite friendly and quite happy to please. There were a couple exceptions (like the booth that would not post price tags nor quote you a price until you picked out a dress), but for the most part… The merchants were there for the Faerie Consumer.

Ms. Rose Bindweed poses with her new Faerie boots, courtesy of the aforementioned Fey Merchant (a local Eugene artist – Faerie Toes)

Many business cards were collected and a list of links will be provided at the end of this post.

  Faerieworlds did take place in the Pacific Northwest.

Before I post the next photo, I need to tell the reader about “code-words”. When my niece first came to live with me (she was 10), she had no “filter”. We were at an antiques expo in Portland and she was quite taken by the “People of Walmart” who showed up. I pulled her aside and explained the need for a filter and we agreed upon a code-word for “LOOK! BAD DRESS!! FASHION FAUX-PAS!!” That code-word is “Pickle”

My Companion said, “Pickle.”

The Pickle is on the left. Fortunately, this year, there were not too many of these.

“Pickle” indeed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My friend, Ms. Danu Saturnfly (also a co-worker) wants to revisit Faerieworlds in the future. I believe I have not only a convert to the Realm of Fey but a good friend. It was a very good day.

www.unicornsndragons.etsy.com

www.etsy.com/shop/copperalia

I was going to provide more links but it would seem that an awful lot of Faerieworlds Vendors do not update their Etsy shops or websites. Too bad. their loss.

In all, it was a Very Good Day. And, boy – were my wings tired by the time I got home!

Read Full Post »

He’s BACK! The “Other” Man

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , on July 25, 2012| Leave a Comment »

UGH. Just before we left for Colorado, I picked up the phone on one of those stupid 1-800 calls. We never answer those because they are either telemarketers or political. But I had it in me to give “whomever” whatever. The woman asked for my husband. I explained he was out of the house and asked who she was/why she was calling. She refused to disclose this information to me.

So I told her that “this is a junk call.”

“No, ma’am, it is not a junk call.”

“Then who are you, who do you represent and why should I pass you on to my husband?”

“I cannot disclose that.”

Well, we aren’t behind on any payments (BTDT) so I told her, “Nope, this is a JUNK call” and I hung up.

She called back and left a message while we were gone. Bill collector.

WTF? Sorry about the “French” but we have paid our dues. We’re current or ahead on all of our bills at this stage in our lives. But before I would let Don call her back, I ran a quick credit check.

And He’s BAAAACK.

The man with the same name as my husband, but not the same Social Security Number.

We first encountered this man’s presence when we first moved to Portland. Someone called with a great job offer. Said they were a college roomie or something. NOT. Wrong man.

Then there was the call from the lawyer in the early 1980’s. She wanted her payment for the divorce. I laughed at her. “We haven’t been divorced,” I said with a smile on my face. “You have the WRONG phone number.”

OOPS. She quietly disappeared. And all was silent until about three years ago when we got this fat letter from the State of Washington demanding back child support. It was an interesting letter in that it included the Social Security Numbers of the man they wanted money from, his ex-wife and their two children (ironically, a boy and girl). It also included the mailing addresses of the ex-wife and the children.

Really?? I sent it all back to the State of Washington with a really nasty letter implying that they didn’t even bother to check my husband’s SSI against their information and they provided us with more than enough information for us to steal identities and commit fraud (not that I would ever want to be the other “ex” Mrs. Presley) Or her children). We never heard back from the State of Washington, not even a “oops! Thank you for catching our error.”

I check our credit report about every 12 months to 18 months. The State of Washington didn’t even appear on the credit report the last time I checked, which was after I sent the nasty letter (which I still have because I am obsessive about keeping track of details).

But our credit report on July 9th included the State of Washington for back child support. And the IRS for back taxes. For wages earned in the State of Georgia.

WTF?

I told Don to call 1) the credit bureau that showed those items and 2) the 1-800 number for the debt collector. He left messages on both sites, but the credit bureau won’t clean up our credit report for “up-to-two-months” and we’ll have to PAY to check that in November. And the 1-800 number took him to a voice mail where he left the last four of his SSI and the notation that he is *not* that person.

The 1-800 number called again the next day and Don picked up. He spoke to a live person.

“I am not the person you are looking for,” he said.

“Have you lived in Beaverton?”

“No,” he said. “That is the other person with my name.”

“Georgia?”

“Sorry, but I have only ever lived in Oregon. The last four digits of my SSI are…”

“Oh. You aren’t who we are looking for…”

DOH!

I can tell you exactly how much money this A-hole owes the State of Washington in back child support and how much he owes to IRS. It’s a lot. It’s more money than I dream of. It’s more money than we make in a year.

I really hope the IRS and the State of Washington catch up with him. I hope it almost as much as his ex-wife hopes it (she who has had to support their two children on her own income for how many years?) I really, really pray this upon the man with the same name as my husband.

Because that man is a real jerk.

And the IRS really should research SSI#’s before calling people out of the blue to say they owe taxes. We file every year. Early.

Don’t ask me what I think about the State of Washington and their searches. Idiots. Do they really think this guy would have a publicly listed phone number?

It’s almost as bad as stolen identity.

Read Full Post »

Bad Harvey. Bad, bad, bad.

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged on July 25, 2012| 1 Comment »

There’s no such thing as a bad dog, but a bored dog…

Harvey was bored. His people left and they took Murphy with them. Harvey wanted to go. He couldn’t remember getting car sick. He was sure he’d be a good doggie. But his people left him behind.

Two strange people came to the house. That was good. Harvey was happy that he had someone to stay with him. But they weren’t his people and he knew it.

For one thing, they didn’t have the upper hand. He knew that because they talked baby talk to him.

And they didn’t watch him as closely as his people did. His people never let him have any fun…

The new people were nice and petted him and said nice things to him, but they didn’t come out into the yard to see what he was doing. He liked that. When they called, he’d come running and he’d let them wash all the mud and dirt off of his chest and paws and he’d smile real big because they just thought he was a really dirty doggie. And he wagged his tail.

One day, he found a secret way into the Forbidden Garden. That big old rock that blocked the gate couldn’t stop him now! He could get into the Forbidden Garden because the bad neighbors finally fixed their fence and there was a gap that he could fit through, back behind the shady hazelnut tree.

He didn’t know that he scared the new people. When they found him stuck in the Forbidden Garden, they didn’t yell. They praised him! And they left the Forbidden Garden Gate open so he could get back out the next time.

Oh, what joy!

In the Forbidden Garden, Harvey could work at the pesky outer fence. He pulled a board off of it so he could see the kitties that crossed the neighbor’s yard.

He chewed on all the boards to make them shorter and he dug and he dug and he dug. He loved to dig!

OOPS! That board splintered! Oh well, now there were two boards off of the fence and Harvey could really see into the other yard. Too bad they weren’t side-by-side, because then he could just go over into the other yard.

He dug so hard that he could get his whole entire head under the fence. He really liked that the new people told him he was a good doggie when he came to the back door and they had to wash all that mud off of him. He was a good doggie!

He pulled four boards off of the fence and dug deep holes all along the border and he chewed up every one of the remaining boards. He was such a good doggie!

“Oh Hi, Mom! Are you looking at the hard work i did while you were gone? I was a good doggie! That dog sitter said so!”

 
The dog sitter also said, “Oh, I wondered why he was so dirty when he came in…” when Mom mentioned the fence.

In the days following our vacation, Harvey’s mom had to go over to the neighbor to reassure her that we would replace the fence. She’s in her 80’s and hadn’t been outside to notice (yet). She was very gracious, chuckled, even, and said, “Oh, I don’t need the fence, but I think you do.”

Touché.

Then came the note on the front door from the other neighbor, also elderly. “We’d love to help the dog, but we don’t know why he is barking. He just will not stop.”

Oh, great. I called and spoke to the son (who works nights and lives there). “Well, I was going to call the cops, but Mom said I should let her write you a note because you are real nice and she likes you…”

After I finished apologizing a hundred million times, I asked, “How long has he been barking like this?”

“Oh, just the last couple weeks.”

Great. The bark collar came off and stayed off.

Harvey had been so good about barking. I had to use the bark collar every few months to reinforce the rules: no senseless barking, but in two weeks’ time… ALL that went out the window.

He’s had the bark collar on every single day since the note on my front door appeared. I couldn’t apologize enough. I promised the man on the phone that we are *not* that kind of neighbor! We do not allow our dog to bark, on and on and on and on.

I haven’t priced the boards to replace the fence. I have secured the Forbidden Garden again and Harvey can’t get in there. More chicken wire has been applied to the perimeter of the yard.

Harvey seems quite happy, but he just has this wanderlust. He *has* to try to figure out how to escape. I think, for me, the worst was that two years of conditioning went out the window in two weeks’ time.

Next time: Harvey gets boarded out. It’s expensive, but it seems like the only alternative.

I told my husband that since Harvey is already four years old, it seems very unfair to consider giving him up because he eats fences. It seems to me that the responsibility lies on the shoulders of the humans watching the dogs. We are responsible. He is just a dog, albeit a dog with very bad habits gleaned in the first two years of his life. He will probably only live to be ten or twelve years old, which means we only have six to eight more years of this. That’s a very short time period in human terms, but a life time in dog terms.

Harvey loves us. He has a little separation anxiety when we go away (ya think!!!??). All I have to do is figure out how to stay ahead of him for the next few years, the rest of his life.

Obviously, a dog sitter isn’t working for us. She really thought she was doing a great job… she had no clue what he was doing behind her back.

Bad Harvey. Bad, bad, bad.

Read Full Post »

Last Leg Home

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , on July 24, 2012| Leave a Comment »

We certainly packed a lot into a two-week road trip. We capped it off with a barbecue at my cousin’s home in Sparks, right after we went through the Auto Museum.  That was a very nice way to end the trip – and Don finally got a tour of the BSA bike collection.

I have a wonderful family. I’m so glad that I grew up close to my cousins! We spend years apart sometimes, but when we see each other, we pick up right where we left off – and we always laugh a lot. And we all sing out of tune.

But Friday morning, Don was itching to head home. Sadly, I had to break a date I’d made with my high school best friend, Janet. She was going to try to drive over to Reno from Round Mountain (near Tonopah). We haven’t seen each other since graduation. I was her maid-of-honor. I really, really, really wanted to see Janet.

But we were on the road. We headed up through Susanville (I hate that stretch of road! And why do we always get stuck behind the idiots when Don is driving? If you’ve never experienced it, here’s a sample: Nevada made it a four-lane freeway. California refuses to widen it. Once you pass the California inspection station, it goes down to a two-lane highway with occasional passing lanes. But it needs to be four lanes all the way into Susanville).

When I traveled with Chrystal last year, we cut over to I-5 both times. It isn’t because I like that stretch – not at all! – but the weather was “iffy” and I wanted to be on the most traveled route if something went wrong. But with Don, we could by-pass Susanville and head toward Alturas and Lakeview. It’s a much prettier drive and a lot less traffic.

We stopped in Lakeview for gas but decided we’d go on ahead to set up camp on the Chewaucan River before eating lunch. It’s not a long drive along Forest Service Roads, and it’s very pretty. And, once again, we found ourselves camped along the Chewaucan at Jones’ Crossing CG. I’ve blogged about it here and here. Granted, the second post is just about strange things that inspire me, but…

I was a little concerned about finding a good site. This was the weekend following the 4th… But I needn’t have worried. All the treed sites were taken, but thanks to Don’s Christmas present, the Rhino canopy, we were happy in the big, flat treeless site.

How cool is that? We just roll out our own shade! One person can manage the Rhino cover, but two are better.

The extra spare tire as a work of art.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh. Murphy did this in the Colorado, too. Don had to keep him on a leash or he’d just swim away. Besides, we had a lot of neighbors who wouldn’t appreciate a loose dog in camp.

Speaking of camping neighbors…

We called these people “Bonfire People”. The photo didn’t capture the smoke very well, but when we pulled in to camp, their fire was burning merrily away, untended. They left several times while the fire burned. And when it got dark, they piled a ton of wood on it until the flames leaped four feet into the air.

We wanted to walk over and tell them that 346 homes just burned in Colorado Springs. We wanted to flag down the Forest Service pumper trucks that passed on the main road. It’s a big ticket for leaving a fire untended. We wanted to haul water over and dump it on their bonfire.

We considered going over in the dark and starting to dance around the fire like Kevin Costner in Dances With Wolves. We seriously considered that option.

We didn’t think Bonfire People would have been amused.

But we would have been.

Two beetles.

The Chewaucan is always a hive of insect activity.

Western Blue Flax.

There were lots of wildflowers still in bloom.

On Saturday, we made the last leg to Portland. Don’t you hate the last day of vacation?

Harvey was very happy to see us. The dog sitter was at work, so we came home to a cleaned up house and a happy Harvey.

The unmowed lawn waved happily at us, too.

When the grass is deep like this, you can see the different kinds of grasses in the “lawn”. Someone please tell me WHY we bought a house with such a huge lawn?

UGH.

Oh, but that wasn’t even the worst.

The dog that is curled up on the floor behind me right now had been very, very busy while we were off camping without him. And that is fodder for one more post on our wonderful trip to see Baby Korinne.

I plan on printing this out as an 8×10″ to remind me how precious this little girl is.

Tomorrow: why Harvey should get to live… or not.

 

 

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »