Isabella never met her grandmother. Still, those who knew them both commented on how much she resembled her. Hillary, Izzy's gramma, had died many years before her birth. Izzy's mother, Kaylanne was raised by Nashelle and Tom, Kaylanne's grandparents. There's a story in itself, but right now we're talking about Izzy and her grandmother.
It turns out that when Kaylanne put Izzy's hair into little pig-tails for the first time, Izzy just couldn't help but shake her head back and forth making those little tufts of hair whizz around her head like little propellors. The more she whipped her head back and forth, the lighter her head felt. Now I'm sure you're thinking I meant to say she got 'light-headed', but that is not what I mean at all. Izzy's head actually started to feel lighter. Izzy had no idea that her own grandmother had been known as Hillary Helicopter and that one day people would start calling her Dizzy Izzy.
Hillary got her name when she asked her mom (Nashelle) to please put her hair into three pig-tails, one on each side of her head just above the ears and another third pigtail in the center of the back of her head. Nashelle was happy to oblige, familiar with Hillary's free spirited nature and taste for the unusual, so five minutes later after a tug of war with Hillary's thick and unruly hair, Hillary ran off, shaking her head and making the pig-tails fly around until they started to make a whirring sound. So delighted with her new hair-do, Hillary ran through the house jumping and laughing as she whipped her head from side to side. Much to Nashelle's amazement, Hillary began to lift off the ground. Just an inch at first, hardly perceptible with all of her hopping and jumping, but just the same, Nashelle noticed that Hillary wasn't quite touching the ground when she was 'landing' from her leaps and bounds. Pretty soon, Hillary was buzzing through the air around the livingroom and flying from sofa to ottoman to chair and back to the sofa again, all the while laughing and squealling with delight. Nashelle stood by, eyes bugging out and feet planted in disbelief as her little girl took flight through the house. Before she knew it, Hillary had flown out the kitchen door into the back yard and was fluttering around, dancing above the dog, zooming past the woodpile, and circling the shade trees. Nashelle sprung into action and caught her little darling by the hand just as she started to shoot high into the air and head for the fence that separated their yard from the neighbors. The added weight of her mommy brought Hillary back down to the earth, safely in one piece. "Wow!" Nashelle hollered. "That was really something! You kind of scared me a little bit there. I think maybe we ought to take those pig-tails out for a while until you learn to control yourself a little." Hillary's dancing eyes and quick grin filled her upturned face to greet her mother's concerned look. "It's OK Mommy, I be careful" she exclaimed. "Well, alright then, my little helicopter. Just slow down a little and stay in the yard. Maybe you should try riding your tricycle around or play with the doggies and give your little neck a rest. You don't want to wreck yourself, now do you?" Nashelle suggested. "Hm uhm, no ma'm. But you don't have to take my hair down, I'll stay here. I promise."
Hillary's little brother Moses was just waking from his nap and Nashelle had to go back into the house to get him, but left the kitchen door open so she could at least hear her daughter, if not see her. Reassured by the sounds of her giggles and animated conversation with Rajah the Australian Shepherd, Nashelle took a moment to change little Moses' diapers before heading back to the shady yard where Hillary played with her favorite dog. Big old Ramses, the black Mastiff-Dane lay in the cool dampness next to the wood pile, watching the goings on of the back yard. Moses quickly squirmed his way out of his mom's grasp and toddled his way over to the big black dog where he promptly snuggled up to the old mutt and started examining the dog's mouth and teeth. Ramses was the ever patient and mellow baby toy, never even making a rumble except for the occasional sigh or "umph" when one of the kids dove onto him like a great stuffed cushion. After that first day, Hillary would often ask her mom for her 'helicopter hair' which she soon designed into four tails, equally spaced about the crown of her head, one in front, one in back and one on each side. Nashelle adjusted to the idea that her little girl could fly, and quite well I might add, and watched her with a combination of joy, pride and fear as her daughter darted about the sky, always staying within the boundaries of their generous lot. Hillary didn't fly much indoors, unless it was raining. Occasionally when they were at the grocery store and her mom was busy shopping with Moses in the baby seat of the shopping cart, Hillary would dash off for a quick flight up and down the aisles. She loved the blur of colors from the stuff on the shelves, but once she lost herself for a moment and flew into a display of boxes of cold cereal that someone had built in the middle of her runway and she was embarrassed by the commotion it caused. Her mom suggested, not all that gently, that perhaps she should refrain from flying in the stores, that maybe it was a little dangerous. Hillary only flew for a few months, maybe even a year, when she was about three or four years old.
Now Izzy, that's another story! Izzy was only nine months old when she first started flying. She hadn't even started walking yet. Even though her first flight was only a few seconds and it surprised her mom and great-grandmother (who was holding her at the time), she flew. It was then that they both knew she had the "helicopter gene" and had inherited it from her granny, even though she had never met her. Nashelle was quick to caution Kaylanne about letting her fly too early and to maybe just keep her hair in only two or three pig-tails to start, saving the four propellors for later, when Izzy was old enough to control her flights. Kaylanne had heard the stories of her mother's ability to fly around with her 'helicopter-do' but never quite believed them. She had worn her own hair in the four-propellors trying to simulate flight, but never really got off the ground, so she had always thought the story was myth. And yet, here was her own little baby, shaking her head with her little piggies-tails and actually lifting away from her arms. By the time Izzy could walk, she had mastered her ability to fly. It drove her mom crazy, crazy from worry and crazy from the constant "Mommy, do my hair!". Kaylanne resorted to buying elastic bands for Izzy's hair by the bagsfull. She had every color made, and depending upon what she was wearing, her hair bands matched perfectly. Izzy, however, just couldn't stop at three pig-tails, or four pig-tails...no! She had to have six pig-tails, all evenly spaced around the crown of her head. Now let me give you an idea of Izzy's hair. When she was born, her hair was black as a raven's wing, and thick. Everone commented on her thick black hair and how they had never seen so much hair on a baby. As Izzy grew, her hair started to turn blonde, but the ends stayed black as the ace of spades. By the time Izzy started getting her hair put in pig-tails, it was an explosion of curls. Nashelle said she looked like Albert Einstein. Kaylanne started with the pig-tails to try to control the cloud of hair that floated above Izzy's head. That's when it started. The flying I mean. Izzy's hair was so spectacular it would have been a shame to cut it, but to just let it do it's own thing was really asking for trouble. I'm not sure, but I bet if left to it's own natural self, Izzy's hair would have started drifting around on its own anyway, and probably would have just taken flight in every which way. At least with the propellers, there was a little hope for Izzy to be able to regulate her escapes from gravity and at least choose her direction.
I remember one day, while Kaylanne and Isabella were visiting and we were out by the pool, it was warm and we were paddling around in the cool crystal clear water when Izzy started shaking her head as she sat on the steps in the shallow end of the pool. She couldn't have been ten months old yet and she was naked as a jay bird, splashing and laughing while watching the bubbles. She must have gotten a little water on her face which made her shake her head. Her mom was still only putting two pig-tails in her hair in those days. I was sitting right next to her, making sure she didn't slip off the step into deeper water, and before I knew it, she was out of the water and floating about three inches above my shoulder height, in mid air, kicking her chubby little legs and laughing with that helium-ducky laugh of hers. Not wanting to frighten her, I simply reached out and gently pulled her back into the water and wiped her little face with my hand. It was then I knew for sure that Kaylanne was going to have her hands full with that baby! Izzy has always been a happy baby and easy to deal with. She loves to eat and is happy to take a nap. Other than being a little wiggley when you're trying to put a diaper on her, she's just about perfect. But this flying thing...that was going to be a slightly bigger problem than getting her to lie still. My suggestion was to keep a string tied to her toe so that if she started to float away, her mom could always pull her back down. Pretty soon Izzy also had ribbons to match her hair bands to match her outfits. Kaylanne just tied the ribbons to Izzy's fat little hand and then to the handle of her stroller or shopping cart or whatever and then Izzy would just fly in little circles and kind of float about when her momma was shopping or at the mall. Before long, people would gather around and watch "Dizzy Izzy" as she buzzed around the crowd's heads zooming through the mall and diving in and out of the shops. She like the blur of colors, too, just like her gramma. Even better, she loved the racks of clothes and the lovely smells of the cosmetic counters, as well as the sparkle of the pretty gems in the glass cases of the jewelry stores. Izzy really like zipping through the air and seeing the faces of those watching her smile up at her.
By the time Izzy was four, she had given up flying. She wanted to dance instead, and wear her hair in braids or a neat little bun like a ballerina. Before she turned five and started school, Izzy had even forgotten that she used to fly and never asked to have her hair in her 'helicopter-do' anymore. Once she saw a picture of herself with her hair in the mega six propeller hair do and she asked her mom why she had made her look so funny. She didn't remember her days of flying, at all. Oh well.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Dizzy Izzy
It turns out that when Kaylanne put Izzy's hair into little pig-tails for the first time, Izzy just couldn't help but shake her head back and forth making those little tufts of hair whizz around her head like little propellers. The more she whipped her head back and forth, the lighter her head felt. Now I'm sure you're thinking I meant to say she got 'light-headed', but that is not what I mean at all. Izzy's head actually started to feel lighter. Izzy had no idea that her own grandmother had been known as Hillary Helicopter.
Hillary got her name when she asked her mom to please put her hair into three pig-tails, one on each side of her head just above the ears and another third pigtail in the center of the back of her head. Nashelle was happy to oblige, familiar with Hillary's free spirited nature and taste for the unusual, so five minutes later after a tug of war with Hillary's thick and unruly hair, Hillary ran off, shaking her head and making the pig-tails fly around until they started to make a whirring sound. So delighted with her new hair-do, Hillary ran through the house jumping and laughing as she whipped her head from side to side. Much to Nashelle's amazement, Hillary began to lift off the ground. Just an inch at first, hardly perceptible with all of her hopping and jumping, but just the same, Nashelle noticed that Hillary wasn't quite touching the ground when she was 'landing' from her leaps and bounds. Soon, Hillary was buzzing through the air around the living room and flying from sofa to ottoman to chair and back to the sofa again, all the while laughing and squealing with delight. Nashelle stood by, eyes bugging out and feet planted in disbelief as her little girl took flight through the house. Before she knew it, Hillary had flown out the kitchen door into the back yard and was fluttering around, dancing above the dog, zooming past the woodpile, and circling the shade trees. Nashelle sprung into action and caught her little darling by the hand just as she started to shoot high into the air and head for the fence that separated their yard from the neighbors. The added weight of her mommy brought Hillary back down to the earth, safely in one piece. "Wow!" Nashelle hollered. "That was really something! You kind of scared me a little bit there. I think maybe we ought to take those pig-tails out for a while until you learn to control yourself a little." Hillary's dancing eyes and quick grin filled her upturned face to greet her mother's concerned look. "It's OK Mommy, I’ll be careful" she exclaimed. "Well, alright then, my little helicopter. Just slow down a little and stay in the yard and give your little neck a rest. You don't want to wreck yourself, do you?" Nashelle suggested. "Hm uhm, no ma'am. But you don't have to take my hair down, I'll stay here. I promise."
Hillary would often ask her mom for her 'helicopter hair' which she soon designed into four tails, equally spaced about the crown of her head, one in front, one in back and one on each side. Nashelle adjusted to the idea that her little girl could fly, and watched her with a combination of joy, pride and fear as her daughter darted about the sky. Occasionally when they were at the grocery store Hillary would dash off for a quick flight up and down the aisles. She loved the blur of colors from the stuff on the shelves, but once she lost herself for a moment and flew into a display of boxes of cold cereal that someone had built in the middle of her runway. She was embarrassed by the commotion it caused. Her mom suggested that perhaps she should refrain from flying in the stores, that maybe it was a little dangerous. Hillary only flew for a few months, maybe even a year, when she was about three or four years old.
Now Izzy, that's another story! Izzy was only nine months old when she first started flying. She hadn't even started walking yet. Even though her first flight was only a few seconds and it surprised her mom and great-grandmother, she flew. It was then that they both knew she had the "helicopter gene" and had inherited it from her granny. Nashelle was quick to caution Kaylanne about letting her fly too early and to maybe just keep her hair in only two or three pig-tails to start, saving the four propellers for later, when Izzy was old enough to control her flights. Kaylanne had heard the stories of her mother's ability to fly around with her 'helicopter-do' but never quite believed them. She had worn her own hair in the four-propellers trying to simulate flight, but never really got off the ground, so she had always thought the story was myth. And yet, here was her own little baby, shaking her head with her little piggy’s-tails and actually lifting away from her arms. By the time Izzy could walk, she had mastered her ability to fly. It drove her mom crazy, crazy from worry and crazy from the constant "Mommy, do my hair!". Kaylanne resorted to buying elastic bands for Izzy's hair by the bagsful. Izzy, however, just couldn't stop at three pig-tails, or four pig-tails...no! She had to have six pig-tails, all evenly spaced around the crown of her head. Now let me give you an idea of Izzy's hair. When she was born, her hair was black as a raven's wing, and thick. As Izzy grew, her hair started to turn blonde, but the ends stayed black. By the time Izzy started getting her hair put in pig-tails, it was an explosion of curls. Kaylanne started with the pig-tails to try to control the cloud of hair that floated above Izzy's head. Izzy's hair was so spectacular it would have been a shame to cut it, but to just let it do it's own thing was really asking for trouble. At least with the propellers, there was a little hope for Izzy to be able to at least choose her direction.
I remember one day, while Kaylanne and Isabella were visiting and we were out by the pool, it was warm and we were paddling around in the cool crystal clear water when Izzy started shaking her head as she sat on the steps in the shallow end of the pool. She couldn't have been ten months old yet and she was naked as a jay bird, splashing and laughing while watching the bubbles. She must have gotten a little water on her face which made her shake her head. Her mom was still only putting two pig-tails in her hair in those days. I was sitting right next to her, making sure she didn't slip off the step into deeper water, and before I knew it, she was out of the water and floating about three inches above my shoulder height, in mid air, kicking her chubby little legs and laughing with that helium-ducky laugh of hers. Not wanting to frighten her, I simply reached out and gently pulled her back into the water and wiped her little face with my hand. Izzy has always been a happy baby and easy to deal with. Other than being a little wiggly when you're trying to put a diaper on her, she's just about perfect. But this flying thing...that was going to be a slightly bigger problem than getting her to lie still. My suggestion was to keep a string tied to her toe so that if she started to float away, her mom could always pull her back down. Kaylanne just tied ribbons to Izzy's fat little hand and then to the handle of her stroller or shopping cart or whatever and then Izzy would just fly in little circles and kind of float about when her momma was shopping or at the mall. Before long, people would gather around and watch her fly, zooming through the mall and diving in and out of the shops. She liked the blur of colors. Even better, she loved the racks of clothes and the lovely smells of the cosmetic counters.
By the time Izzy was four, she had given up flying. She wanted to dance instead, and wear her hair in braids or a neat little bun like a ballerina. Before she turned five and started school, Izzy had even forgotten that she used to fly and never asked to have her hair in her 'helicopter-do' anymore. Once she saw a picture of herself with her hair in the mega six propeller hair do and she asked her mom why she had made her look so funny. She didn't remember her days of flying, at all. Oh well.
Hillary got her name when she asked her mom to please put her hair into three pig-tails, one on each side of her head just above the ears and another third pigtail in the center of the back of her head. Nashelle was happy to oblige, familiar with Hillary's free spirited nature and taste for the unusual, so five minutes later after a tug of war with Hillary's thick and unruly hair, Hillary ran off, shaking her head and making the pig-tails fly around until they started to make a whirring sound. So delighted with her new hair-do, Hillary ran through the house jumping and laughing as she whipped her head from side to side. Much to Nashelle's amazement, Hillary began to lift off the ground. Just an inch at first, hardly perceptible with all of her hopping and jumping, but just the same, Nashelle noticed that Hillary wasn't quite touching the ground when she was 'landing' from her leaps and bounds. Soon, Hillary was buzzing through the air around the living room and flying from sofa to ottoman to chair and back to the sofa again, all the while laughing and squealing with delight. Nashelle stood by, eyes bugging out and feet planted in disbelief as her little girl took flight through the house. Before she knew it, Hillary had flown out the kitchen door into the back yard and was fluttering around, dancing above the dog, zooming past the woodpile, and circling the shade trees. Nashelle sprung into action and caught her little darling by the hand just as she started to shoot high into the air and head for the fence that separated their yard from the neighbors. The added weight of her mommy brought Hillary back down to the earth, safely in one piece. "Wow!" Nashelle hollered. "That was really something! You kind of scared me a little bit there. I think maybe we ought to take those pig-tails out for a while until you learn to control yourself a little." Hillary's dancing eyes and quick grin filled her upturned face to greet her mother's concerned look. "It's OK Mommy, I’ll be careful" she exclaimed. "Well, alright then, my little helicopter. Just slow down a little and stay in the yard and give your little neck a rest. You don't want to wreck yourself, do you?" Nashelle suggested. "Hm uhm, no ma'am. But you don't have to take my hair down, I'll stay here. I promise."
Hillary would often ask her mom for her 'helicopter hair' which she soon designed into four tails, equally spaced about the crown of her head, one in front, one in back and one on each side. Nashelle adjusted to the idea that her little girl could fly, and watched her with a combination of joy, pride and fear as her daughter darted about the sky. Occasionally when they were at the grocery store Hillary would dash off for a quick flight up and down the aisles. She loved the blur of colors from the stuff on the shelves, but once she lost herself for a moment and flew into a display of boxes of cold cereal that someone had built in the middle of her runway. She was embarrassed by the commotion it caused. Her mom suggested that perhaps she should refrain from flying in the stores, that maybe it was a little dangerous. Hillary only flew for a few months, maybe even a year, when she was about three or four years old.
Now Izzy, that's another story! Izzy was only nine months old when she first started flying. She hadn't even started walking yet. Even though her first flight was only a few seconds and it surprised her mom and great-grandmother, she flew. It was then that they both knew she had the "helicopter gene" and had inherited it from her granny. Nashelle was quick to caution Kaylanne about letting her fly too early and to maybe just keep her hair in only two or three pig-tails to start, saving the four propellers for later, when Izzy was old enough to control her flights. Kaylanne had heard the stories of her mother's ability to fly around with her 'helicopter-do' but never quite believed them. She had worn her own hair in the four-propellers trying to simulate flight, but never really got off the ground, so she had always thought the story was myth. And yet, here was her own little baby, shaking her head with her little piggy’s-tails and actually lifting away from her arms. By the time Izzy could walk, she had mastered her ability to fly. It drove her mom crazy, crazy from worry and crazy from the constant "Mommy, do my hair!". Kaylanne resorted to buying elastic bands for Izzy's hair by the bagsful. Izzy, however, just couldn't stop at three pig-tails, or four pig-tails...no! She had to have six pig-tails, all evenly spaced around the crown of her head. Now let me give you an idea of Izzy's hair. When she was born, her hair was black as a raven's wing, and thick. As Izzy grew, her hair started to turn blonde, but the ends stayed black. By the time Izzy started getting her hair put in pig-tails, it was an explosion of curls. Kaylanne started with the pig-tails to try to control the cloud of hair that floated above Izzy's head. Izzy's hair was so spectacular it would have been a shame to cut it, but to just let it do it's own thing was really asking for trouble. At least with the propellers, there was a little hope for Izzy to be able to at least choose her direction.
I remember one day, while Kaylanne and Isabella were visiting and we were out by the pool, it was warm and we were paddling around in the cool crystal clear water when Izzy started shaking her head as she sat on the steps in the shallow end of the pool. She couldn't have been ten months old yet and she was naked as a jay bird, splashing and laughing while watching the bubbles. She must have gotten a little water on her face which made her shake her head. Her mom was still only putting two pig-tails in her hair in those days. I was sitting right next to her, making sure she didn't slip off the step into deeper water, and before I knew it, she was out of the water and floating about three inches above my shoulder height, in mid air, kicking her chubby little legs and laughing with that helium-ducky laugh of hers. Not wanting to frighten her, I simply reached out and gently pulled her back into the water and wiped her little face with my hand. Izzy has always been a happy baby and easy to deal with. Other than being a little wiggly when you're trying to put a diaper on her, she's just about perfect. But this flying thing...that was going to be a slightly bigger problem than getting her to lie still. My suggestion was to keep a string tied to her toe so that if she started to float away, her mom could always pull her back down. Kaylanne just tied ribbons to Izzy's fat little hand and then to the handle of her stroller or shopping cart or whatever and then Izzy would just fly in little circles and kind of float about when her momma was shopping or at the mall. Before long, people would gather around and watch her fly, zooming through the mall and diving in and out of the shops. She liked the blur of colors. Even better, she loved the racks of clothes and the lovely smells of the cosmetic counters.
By the time Izzy was four, she had given up flying. She wanted to dance instead, and wear her hair in braids or a neat little bun like a ballerina. Before she turned five and started school, Izzy had even forgotten that she used to fly and never asked to have her hair in her 'helicopter-do' anymore. Once she saw a picture of herself with her hair in the mega six propeller hair do and she asked her mom why she had made her look so funny. She didn't remember her days of flying, at all. Oh well.
Boomers on the Road 6/6/10
Before we left Missoula, Montana, we took a walk down town and snooped around the old railroad depot, which is now converted to use by the university. The old tracks have been covered with asphalt and made into a walking/jogging/bicycle path along the river that runs through town. Placed in the center of the gardens, now planted where once people waited with luggage and dreams of travel, they have erected what has been named Millennium Circle Monument. Large brass plates with Theodore Roosevelt quotes are set into the stonework, for all to read as one walks the path around the monument. I had never really studied Roosevelt nor read any of his speeches, but since we've been doing so much traveling, I have learned that he is majorly responsible for the establishment of many of our beautiful national parks and preserves. That alone, of course, would be enough to find the man endearing, but now I find inspiration in much of what he had to say. Without getting too political here, let me just interject that the more I learn of Roosevelt, the more I am offended by some peoples likening President Obama to him. I have yet to see any way, shape, or form of similarity. O.K., enough...What I would like to share is one of President Roosevelt's quotes, spoken in 1910, which seems to have very contemporary application. "I recognize the right and duty of this generation to develop and use the natural resources of our land; but I do not recognize the right to waste them, or to rob, by wasteful use, the generations that come after us." In that same vein of thought, in 1916 he said, "Defenders of the short-sighted men who in their greed and selfishness will, if permitted, rob our country of half its charm by their reckless extermination of all useful and beautiful wild things sometimes seek to champion them by saying that 'the game belongs to the people.' So it does; and not merely to the people now alive, but to the unborn people. The 'greatest good for the greatest number' applies to the number within the womb of time, compared to which those now alive form but an insignificant fraction. Our duty to the whole, including the unborn generations, bids us restrain an unprincipled present-day minority from wasting the heritage of these unborn generations. The movement for the conservation of wild life and the larger movement for the conservation of all our natural resources are essentially democratic in spirit, purpose, and method." I think 'Teddy' would not have entertained the idea of ceasing oil drilling and exploration, but he sure would have used every possible means to monitor and avert such a catastrophe as we have had here on the coast of the Gulf of Mexico. I think our leadership has been much too slow to answer the call for action in finding a solution to such a global cost of our resources, not limited to the spilled oil. Yes, we all agree that since BP owns the rig, they are financially responsible for this epic disaster. But the solution to ending the hemorrhaging of oil into the ocean should not have been limited to their actions alone, nor should the ensuing clean up.
Wow! I started off thinking I was just writing another 'travel' column this week, with tidbits about the weather and beauty that I've witnessed lately and really got wrapped up in this distressing rant about 'the oil spill' that we are all worried about. Sorry, I know you have had plenty of exposure to its long reaching mental anguish into all of our daily lives.
With that said, I now see more than ever the need for escape and the importance of appreciating our natural resources and environment...so, as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words. Here is where we are now, on our way over the Cascades range of mountains, having already conquered the Bitter Root Range of the Rocky Mountains. My greatest challenge right now, is deciding which photo to submit that you might imagine the exquisite and glorious vistas we've witnessed. For those of you with internet access, I will continue to post photos we've taken along the way on my Facebook page...but for now, I guess this one will have to do. I hope it gives you a little peek at some of the stunning countryside there is to behold. Of course there's nothing like the "3D" experience of it all. This photo was taken while traveling along Hwy. 2 above the little Bavarian village of Leavenworth in the Cascade foothills, of downtown.
Wow! I started off thinking I was just writing another 'travel' column this week, with tidbits about the weather and beauty that I've witnessed lately and really got wrapped up in this distressing rant about 'the oil spill' that we are all worried about. Sorry, I know you have had plenty of exposure to its long reaching mental anguish into all of our daily lives.
With that said, I now see more than ever the need for escape and the importance of appreciating our natural resources and environment...so, as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words. Here is where we are now, on our way over the Cascades range of mountains, having already conquered the Bitter Root Range of the Rocky Mountains. My greatest challenge right now, is deciding which photo to submit that you might imagine the exquisite and glorious vistas we've witnessed. For those of you with internet access, I will continue to post photos we've taken along the way on my Facebook page...but for now, I guess this one will have to do. I hope it gives you a little peek at some of the stunning countryside there is to behold. Of course there's nothing like the "3D" experience of it all. This photo was taken while traveling along Hwy. 2 above the little Bavarian village of Leavenworth in the Cascade foothills, of downtown.
Boomers on the Road 6/20/10
I am still suffering from a nagging lower back pain that has had me bed ridden for far too long...it's hell getting old! I am in heaven, otherwise, completely enjoying this gorgeous northwest region and feeling the nostalgia of my youth in so many sights and smells. Just the air has the most delicious smell to it and even though Tom is unhappy with the ever present overcast and frequent drizzle, I am feeling cozy and have been working on my crochet blanket. I started it before Isabella was born, as her 'baby blanket' and she is nearly a year and a half old already. The joke has been that she'll be able to use it as a dorm blanket when she heads off to college.
While we've been here, in Monroe, Washington, we have not really done a lot of visiting....mostly just hanging out at the campground, which is lovely and situated on the banks of the Snohomish River with the Cascade Mountains as a back drop to the rich greens and misty grays of the trees. The staff at the park keep it beautifully groomed and the landscaping is lush and interesting with several foot bridges crossing and re-crossing of a swiftly running stream that you can follow to the river where it adds to the rush of the clear cold glacier run-off, speeding along to find the Puget Sound. I have been daydreaming of a ferry ride, through the San Juan Islands, with my grandchildren and now I'm hoping that once Kaylanne and Izzy get here on Wednesday that we can all spend a day on the water looking for Orcas and sipping cocoa from the onboard cafe'.
One day, in an effort to loosen up my back by walking a little, we drove over to the town of Snohomish where I remembered eating at a newly opened restaurant located in a great old house in the middle of town. Now, thirty plus years later, I was delighted to find it still in existence and thriving. It had suffered a fire a few years ago, but the owner has admirably restored this beautiful building to it's former grandeur and the same memorable and comforting cabbage soup was still on the menu. It was very difficult to make a decision as to what to have for our late lunch and both of us opted for one of the daily specials. We were both delighted with the smoked salmon benedicts with crispy yet tender pan fried red potatoes and Tom also (upon my recommendation) was happy with his cup of soup. Even though they had a tempting list of regional desserts available, I was just too stuffed to even try a bit and even had to ask for a box to bring half of my meal with us. There is nothing like having such a tasty treat later in the evening when you're feeling hungry again and thinking about the meal you enjoyed earlier that day. A moment in the microwave and voila! another moment of bliss.
Rhubarb is in season here, and of course I am in search of one of my favorite pies, yet have not found one....so far. I'm not about to give up, but just can't bring myself to settle for a combination rhubarb-strawberry pie. I am more inclined to be satisfied with any other regional offering. As yet, everywhere we've eaten has been so generous in portions that my sweet tooth has gone un-satisfied except for the "store bought" chocolate cake and vanilla bean ice cream that Tom brought home one night for our evening meal.
I am lying a bit here...I did have a cinnamon roll for breakfast on two occasions, once when Tom brought a couple up from the big red barn here in the campground that is used as a family center where they also serve breakfast on Saturday mornings and provide the cinnamon rolls on Sundays. The other one, definitely home made and swimming in rich cream cheese icing, was shared by myself and grand-daughter (Chloe Nashelle) while waiting for our breakfast to arrive the morning after her overnight stay with us. Tom had had the chance to eat in a small cafe' on the main street in Monroe while awaiting the very expensive repairs to our hard working truck, and he was anxious to share it with us. The inside of the restaurant is all booths and much like you'd expect from a small town except for the murals. On every wall are exceptional works of art depicting the growth of the town, with great scenes of the river, Mount Index, and easily recognizable stars of yesteryear any of us old folks would remember well. Along the wall across from us were portraits of Marshall Dillon and Miss Kitty from Gunsmoke, John Wayne, Clint Eastwood...more than I can recall. As we were swiveling our heads enjoying the art work, the owner came bye to see if we were enjoying our meals and stayed for quite a lengthy visit and insight to the murals and the characters. During our visit the artist came in and we were all introduced. I was in heaven enjoying the interesting company and stimulating conversation, knowing that the experience was having a profound effect on sweet Chloe. She herself is a budding artist and recognizes her father's talent as well. Anyway; I surely do not want to undermine the food....huge portions and delicious omelets that covered more than half the plate, which were themselves the size of small serving platters.
Oh, once again it seems that I have prattled on forever here. I hope that all of you were able to honor your fathers and spend the day celebrating together. Even though my own father is long passed from this globe, he lives strong in my heart and memories. This was his home state, where he grew up, went to college and died after an interesting life and tremendous influence on many. One of his favorite summer breakfasts included a compote of freshly picked blackberries, slices of sweet juicy peaches and delicate, purple stained slices of ripe bananas. This amazing recipe he called "Heavenly Hash" and we had it on pancakes, waffles or just in a bowl with peanut butter toast on the side. Thanks Pop, for the love and the wonderful memories of you and my youth.
While we've been here, in Monroe, Washington, we have not really done a lot of visiting....mostly just hanging out at the campground, which is lovely and situated on the banks of the Snohomish River with the Cascade Mountains as a back drop to the rich greens and misty grays of the trees. The staff at the park keep it beautifully groomed and the landscaping is lush and interesting with several foot bridges crossing and re-crossing of a swiftly running stream that you can follow to the river where it adds to the rush of the clear cold glacier run-off, speeding along to find the Puget Sound. I have been daydreaming of a ferry ride, through the San Juan Islands, with my grandchildren and now I'm hoping that once Kaylanne and Izzy get here on Wednesday that we can all spend a day on the water looking for Orcas and sipping cocoa from the onboard cafe'.
One day, in an effort to loosen up my back by walking a little, we drove over to the town of Snohomish where I remembered eating at a newly opened restaurant located in a great old house in the middle of town. Now, thirty plus years later, I was delighted to find it still in existence and thriving. It had suffered a fire a few years ago, but the owner has admirably restored this beautiful building to it's former grandeur and the same memorable and comforting cabbage soup was still on the menu. It was very difficult to make a decision as to what to have for our late lunch and both of us opted for one of the daily specials. We were both delighted with the smoked salmon benedicts with crispy yet tender pan fried red potatoes and Tom also (upon my recommendation) was happy with his cup of soup. Even though they had a tempting list of regional desserts available, I was just too stuffed to even try a bit and even had to ask for a box to bring half of my meal with us. There is nothing like having such a tasty treat later in the evening when you're feeling hungry again and thinking about the meal you enjoyed earlier that day. A moment in the microwave and voila! another moment of bliss.
Rhubarb is in season here, and of course I am in search of one of my favorite pies, yet have not found one....so far. I'm not about to give up, but just can't bring myself to settle for a combination rhubarb-strawberry pie. I am more inclined to be satisfied with any other regional offering. As yet, everywhere we've eaten has been so generous in portions that my sweet tooth has gone un-satisfied except for the "store bought" chocolate cake and vanilla bean ice cream that Tom brought home one night for our evening meal.
I am lying a bit here...I did have a cinnamon roll for breakfast on two occasions, once when Tom brought a couple up from the big red barn here in the campground that is used as a family center where they also serve breakfast on Saturday mornings and provide the cinnamon rolls on Sundays. The other one, definitely home made and swimming in rich cream cheese icing, was shared by myself and grand-daughter (Chloe Nashelle) while waiting for our breakfast to arrive the morning after her overnight stay with us. Tom had had the chance to eat in a small cafe' on the main street in Monroe while awaiting the very expensive repairs to our hard working truck, and he was anxious to share it with us. The inside of the restaurant is all booths and much like you'd expect from a small town except for the murals. On every wall are exceptional works of art depicting the growth of the town, with great scenes of the river, Mount Index, and easily recognizable stars of yesteryear any of us old folks would remember well. Along the wall across from us were portraits of Marshall Dillon and Miss Kitty from Gunsmoke, John Wayne, Clint Eastwood...more than I can recall. As we were swiveling our heads enjoying the art work, the owner came bye to see if we were enjoying our meals and stayed for quite a lengthy visit and insight to the murals and the characters. During our visit the artist came in and we were all introduced. I was in heaven enjoying the interesting company and stimulating conversation, knowing that the experience was having a profound effect on sweet Chloe. She herself is a budding artist and recognizes her father's talent as well. Anyway; I surely do not want to undermine the food....huge portions and delicious omelets that covered more than half the plate, which were themselves the size of small serving platters.
Oh, once again it seems that I have prattled on forever here. I hope that all of you were able to honor your fathers and spend the day celebrating together. Even though my own father is long passed from this globe, he lives strong in my heart and memories. This was his home state, where he grew up, went to college and died after an interesting life and tremendous influence on many. One of his favorite summer breakfasts included a compote of freshly picked blackberries, slices of sweet juicy peaches and delicate, purple stained slices of ripe bananas. This amazing recipe he called "Heavenly Hash" and we had it on pancakes, waffles or just in a bowl with peanut butter toast on the side. Thanks Pop, for the love and the wonderful memories of you and my youth.
Boomers on the Road 6/28/10
On Saturday the whole gang, all ten of us, took the Seattle - Bremerton ferry for a family picnic. Not to go to Bremerton as our destination, mind you. We just took the ferry for the ride, packed a huge lunch and watched the Puget Sound flow by. On a few occasions Mount Rainier was perfectly framed by one of the picture windows. It is so enormous one would think that it had to be just a few miles away. We were lucky to have a rare sunny day for our adventure and the clarity made all of the greenness of the landscaped yards really pop. Of course all of the homes located on the shores of the Sound are in the 'high rent' areas so they are not only beautifully landscaped but huge and stylish. The views were stunning, the day was sunny, the kids were well behaved and the food was bountiful...ahhhh, thank you God, for a wonderful day.
The crossing takes about an hour, then we were docked in Bremerton while the ferry unloaded and picked up a new group of vehicles and people which took another twenty minutes or so then back to Seattle for an hour which made the whole crossing just the right amount of time to enjoy without getting bored. The best part is we all traveled for less than $50. The ferry has a great cafe' on board if we had chosen to forego the packed lunch and everyone was able to enjoy touring the boat as we traveled. I think the kids have to have shared at least one loaf of the freshly baked French bread with the gulls. Eyes were big and the speech a bit stuttery when I heard about how one of the birds "just swooped down and took a piece of bread right from my hand, Gramma!"
After we re-grouped, once ashore, we followed Moses and Noel in their SUV to a south Seattle art district called Georgetown where the once thriving Rainier Beer Brewery has been reinvented as an art colony and 'condo' for shops. They were having a street fair with blocks cordoned off for various artists, where they galleried their works, and multiple bands. The people swarmed the area and the vision of the avant-garde and colorful costumes of those hipsters attending was all part of the days art offerings.
Tom and I were a little overwhelmed and glad that our sweet little great-granddaughter Izzy was asleep in her car seat so we had an excuse to sit and watch. We decided to head back to the family property in Redmond, where Moses and Noel and their four are living in a cabin my dad built in the 1960's. He moved our original cabin that my family used every summer, from the corner of my aunt's adjoining property and used much of that material to construct the current cabin. Both my parents had built the first cabin shortly after they had married in 1940. They would be delighted to see their great-grandchildren living there, exploring the creek and picking berries. It is very nostalgic for me to walk the property with them, and true to being the old granny, I share stories with them of my own youth, doing pretty much the same things they are doing now.
When Moses, Noel, Kaylanne, Chloe and Solomon returned home (we had taken Emma and Isaiah with us) we got to hear all about the artists and music and Kaylanne modeled her vintage coat that she found for $5. Noel and I made plans to re-create a crocheted head band she had seen and we left for our rolling condo. Sunday we attended a 'mega-church' in Redmond with the Scofields and the boys were signed up for Summer Vacation Camp. The girls are looking forward to the youth group activities that will be going on during the summer. Kaylanne and I enjoyed the service and we all found ourselves discussing the sermon over lunch back at the cabin.
Earlier in the week Tom and I had taken 'just the girls' into downtown Redmond for a little window shopping. The town has grown so much since I was living here in the 1980s that it was virtually unrecognizable to me. What had once been a golf course was now developed into a very trendy shopping area, much like an open air mall with escalators and fountains scattered throughout. We shared some specialty cupcakes from a cute little shop that has made quite an impression on the girls ($3 each!) and stopped at one of the sidewalk tables in front of the bookstore to have a cup of coffee while Kaylanne browsed. Another sunny day in paradise...and one to keep me wondering if it really does rain all of the time up here.
Tuesday we will leave. Boo hoo! I will miss seeing my beautiful kids, but Kaylanne has decided she wants to see the towns of Forks and La Push over on the Olympic Peninsula where the vampire series of books she has been reading are centered. I love this part of the world, but alas, my wonderful husband is not so enamored. Soon we will be heading south again. I'll let you know how things go...keep us in your prayers for safe travel!
The crossing takes about an hour, then we were docked in Bremerton while the ferry unloaded and picked up a new group of vehicles and people which took another twenty minutes or so then back to Seattle for an hour which made the whole crossing just the right amount of time to enjoy without getting bored. The best part is we all traveled for less than $50. The ferry has a great cafe' on board if we had chosen to forego the packed lunch and everyone was able to enjoy touring the boat as we traveled. I think the kids have to have shared at least one loaf of the freshly baked French bread with the gulls. Eyes were big and the speech a bit stuttery when I heard about how one of the birds "just swooped down and took a piece of bread right from my hand, Gramma!"
After we re-grouped, once ashore, we followed Moses and Noel in their SUV to a south Seattle art district called Georgetown where the once thriving Rainier Beer Brewery has been reinvented as an art colony and 'condo' for shops. They were having a street fair with blocks cordoned off for various artists, where they galleried their works, and multiple bands. The people swarmed the area and the vision of the avant-garde and colorful costumes of those hipsters attending was all part of the days art offerings.
Tom and I were a little overwhelmed and glad that our sweet little great-granddaughter Izzy was asleep in her car seat so we had an excuse to sit and watch. We decided to head back to the family property in Redmond, where Moses and Noel and their four are living in a cabin my dad built in the 1960's. He moved our original cabin that my family used every summer, from the corner of my aunt's adjoining property and used much of that material to construct the current cabin. Both my parents had built the first cabin shortly after they had married in 1940. They would be delighted to see their great-grandchildren living there, exploring the creek and picking berries. It is very nostalgic for me to walk the property with them, and true to being the old granny, I share stories with them of my own youth, doing pretty much the same things they are doing now.
When Moses, Noel, Kaylanne, Chloe and Solomon returned home (we had taken Emma and Isaiah with us) we got to hear all about the artists and music and Kaylanne modeled her vintage coat that she found for $5. Noel and I made plans to re-create a crocheted head band she had seen and we left for our rolling condo. Sunday we attended a 'mega-church' in Redmond with the Scofields and the boys were signed up for Summer Vacation Camp. The girls are looking forward to the youth group activities that will be going on during the summer. Kaylanne and I enjoyed the service and we all found ourselves discussing the sermon over lunch back at the cabin.
Earlier in the week Tom and I had taken 'just the girls' into downtown Redmond for a little window shopping. The town has grown so much since I was living here in the 1980s that it was virtually unrecognizable to me. What had once been a golf course was now developed into a very trendy shopping area, much like an open air mall with escalators and fountains scattered throughout. We shared some specialty cupcakes from a cute little shop that has made quite an impression on the girls ($3 each!) and stopped at one of the sidewalk tables in front of the bookstore to have a cup of coffee while Kaylanne browsed. Another sunny day in paradise...and one to keep me wondering if it really does rain all of the time up here.
Tuesday we will leave. Boo hoo! I will miss seeing my beautiful kids, but Kaylanne has decided she wants to see the towns of Forks and La Push over on the Olympic Peninsula where the vampire series of books she has been reading are centered. I love this part of the world, but alas, my wonderful husband is not so enamored. Soon we will be heading south again. I'll let you know how things go...keep us in your prayers for safe travel!
Boomers on the Road....7/18/10
Few things in life are as sweet as time spent with family, but when that time is spent hanging out around the pool on a warm sunny day in beautiful Calistoga and the food and wine are bountiful...well, I guess it just doesn't get much better. My sister has a big sprawling home on a huge lot that backs up to the Napa River, five blocks from downtown Calistoga. She has a Santa Rosa Plum and apple trees growing out by the pool that provide shade and sweet juicy fruit to snack on while lounging and swimming. Behind a hedge is a garden with vegetables and herbs, in the front of the house, olive trees provide shade and more abundance. Her son Ben and grandson Chris drove down from Sacramento to spend the day with us and to reconnect with Kaylanne, whom they hadn't seen for at least four years. It was the first time they had a chance to meet Isabella and by day's end they were all thick as thieves. Izzy was totally enamored with her "uncles" and it was wonderful to sit back in the shade and watch this handsome group of 20 somethings laughing and joking with one another while Izzy drifted from one to the other for giggles and 'bites'. When she finally went down for a nap, exhausted from the swimming and running, the three cousins headed down valley for a wine tasting and returned with a rich and full bodied Petite Syrah from the Raymond winery (2006 for you connoisseurs) that we enjoyed with a dinner that Roxanne served al fresco by the pool.
Tom, Kaylanne, Izzy and I have been camped across the river from Roxanne's at the Napa Valley Fairgrounds Campground so it has been easy to walk or drive back and forth to visit as well as into town for dining, shopping or morning coffee at the local roaster. On Saturday we visited the open-air market/farmer's market and enjoyed the live music while we shopped the various booths. We came home with a dozen fresh pork tamales and home made salsa which we shared with Roxanne and her roommates. They were having a yard sale to thin out their 'junk' and we spent that afternoon chatting and visiting while the browsers drifted in and out. Roxanne's roomies are massage therapists...who'd have thought being 'spa town'...and it was lovely to meet these interesting and traveled women. Everyone in the household has a dog, Roxanne two, so their was plenty of canine entertainment for Izzy. I was so impressed by how good natured and well mannered all four dogs are.
I lived in Calistoga years ago, before we moved to Mississippi, and I had forgotten what a special little town this is. Several motion pictures have been filmed here, the latest was an Adam Sandler film, 'Bedtime Story'. The downtown is basically one main drag that is lined with interesting shops, art galleries, restaurants, a bike shop, bakery, coffee roaster, book stores and more. It has an old California flavor with turn of the century architecture and much of the side walks are covered. A local artist has painted murals on a few of the buildings, others are draped with ivy and other climbing greenery, trees shade the side streets and outdoor dining competes with great opened windows that look out onto the street of other restaurants. It is relaxed, and pleasant, perhaps because so many of the tourists are there for the spas and mud baths. Everyone has a little expression of bliss on their faces and the seem to kind of float as they walk along, drifting in and out of the galleries, shops and gourmet eateries. All of the pastries are totally over the top with fresh fruits and fantastic flavor combinations encased in buttery pockets, scones and tartlets. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee entices as one nears the roaster's and glasses of amber brew adorn the out door tables of the microbrewery. It seems every doorway beckons with delicious smells, whether it's food or scented soaps and candles. Even the bookstore has a special scent that seems to invite browsers. This little village takes aroma therapy very seriously.
Calistoga has been a place of healing and 'good medicine' since American Indians occupied the area and was then discovered by the elite and artistic that traveled up from San Francisco by rail. 'Incorporated as a town in 1885, Calistoga was founded by Samuel Brannan, California's first millionaire, who was fascinated by Calistoga's natural hot springs and purchased 2000 acres to develop a spa reminiscent of Saratoga, New York. His resort (originally located where Indian Springs Resort is today) opened to California's rich and famous in 1862. With the completion of the railroad in 1868, Calistoga became not only a destination but the transportation hub for the upper Napa Valley. The town's name comes from Brannan's tipsy malapropism that he would make this the Saratoga of California, which came out as the "Calistoga of Sarafornia." '(copied from the Calistoga Visitors web page). Guys like Samuel Clemens, Robert Louis Stevenson, Lily Langtree and other colorful characters frequented Calistoga as it developed into the destination resort that it is now. Land that was once farmed with dairies and orchards are now planted with grape vines and wineries have popped up everywhere. Calistoga sits at the north end of the Napa valley and is flanked by dramatic rocky outcroppings that seem to shoot straight up into the clear blue skies on the east side and steep hills of golden dry grasses and sturdy oaks on its western side. The valley floor spreads out to the south and to the north a winding road that was once the path of the early stage coaches ascends through shady evergreens, occasionally breaking through open spaces that allow for breathtaking vistas. A mile or so north of town, before the ascent, is an active geyser that regularly sends a steamy plume into the air that would rival the famous Old Faithful of the Yellowstone.
This time of year is pretty perfect for falling in love with this area, and having family here certainly lures me to linger. Kaylanne, too, feels the pull to stay or in the least plan to return. She has wanted to attend the Culinary Institute of America, located nearby just outside of neighboring St. Helena, for many years. I think after this visit she has been reminded of the beauty and bounty here and will be far more focused in achieving her dream of pursuing a career as a pastry chef. I think maybe tomorrow we'll have to drive down valley to visit the 'CIA' for lunch. I know for sure the food will be superb and the weather promises to ensure another opportunity to dine outside. ....I know, what a drag, but someone has to do it.
Tom, Kaylanne, Izzy and I have been camped across the river from Roxanne's at the Napa Valley Fairgrounds Campground so it has been easy to walk or drive back and forth to visit as well as into town for dining, shopping or morning coffee at the local roaster. On Saturday we visited the open-air market/farmer's market and enjoyed the live music while we shopped the various booths. We came home with a dozen fresh pork tamales and home made salsa which we shared with Roxanne and her roommates. They were having a yard sale to thin out their 'junk' and we spent that afternoon chatting and visiting while the browsers drifted in and out. Roxanne's roomies are massage therapists...who'd have thought being 'spa town'...and it was lovely to meet these interesting and traveled women. Everyone in the household has a dog, Roxanne two, so their was plenty of canine entertainment for Izzy. I was so impressed by how good natured and well mannered all four dogs are.
I lived in Calistoga years ago, before we moved to Mississippi, and I had forgotten what a special little town this is. Several motion pictures have been filmed here, the latest was an Adam Sandler film, 'Bedtime Story'. The downtown is basically one main drag that is lined with interesting shops, art galleries, restaurants, a bike shop, bakery, coffee roaster, book stores and more. It has an old California flavor with turn of the century architecture and much of the side walks are covered. A local artist has painted murals on a few of the buildings, others are draped with ivy and other climbing greenery, trees shade the side streets and outdoor dining competes with great opened windows that look out onto the street of other restaurants. It is relaxed, and pleasant, perhaps because so many of the tourists are there for the spas and mud baths. Everyone has a little expression of bliss on their faces and the seem to kind of float as they walk along, drifting in and out of the galleries, shops and gourmet eateries. All of the pastries are totally over the top with fresh fruits and fantastic flavor combinations encased in buttery pockets, scones and tartlets. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee entices as one nears the roaster's and glasses of amber brew adorn the out door tables of the microbrewery. It seems every doorway beckons with delicious smells, whether it's food or scented soaps and candles. Even the bookstore has a special scent that seems to invite browsers. This little village takes aroma therapy very seriously.
Calistoga has been a place of healing and 'good medicine' since American Indians occupied the area and was then discovered by the elite and artistic that traveled up from San Francisco by rail. 'Incorporated as a town in 1885, Calistoga was founded by Samuel Brannan, California's first millionaire, who was fascinated by Calistoga's natural hot springs and purchased 2000 acres to develop a spa reminiscent of Saratoga, New York. His resort (originally located where Indian Springs Resort is today) opened to California's rich and famous in 1862. With the completion of the railroad in 1868, Calistoga became not only a destination but the transportation hub for the upper Napa Valley. The town's name comes from Brannan's tipsy malapropism that he would make this the Saratoga of California, which came out as the "Calistoga of Sarafornia." '(copied from the Calistoga Visitors web page). Guys like Samuel Clemens, Robert Louis Stevenson, Lily Langtree and other colorful characters frequented Calistoga as it developed into the destination resort that it is now. Land that was once farmed with dairies and orchards are now planted with grape vines and wineries have popped up everywhere. Calistoga sits at the north end of the Napa valley and is flanked by dramatic rocky outcroppings that seem to shoot straight up into the clear blue skies on the east side and steep hills of golden dry grasses and sturdy oaks on its western side. The valley floor spreads out to the south and to the north a winding road that was once the path of the early stage coaches ascends through shady evergreens, occasionally breaking through open spaces that allow for breathtaking vistas. A mile or so north of town, before the ascent, is an active geyser that regularly sends a steamy plume into the air that would rival the famous Old Faithful of the Yellowstone.
This time of year is pretty perfect for falling in love with this area, and having family here certainly lures me to linger. Kaylanne, too, feels the pull to stay or in the least plan to return. She has wanted to attend the Culinary Institute of America, located nearby just outside of neighboring St. Helena, for many years. I think after this visit she has been reminded of the beauty and bounty here and will be far more focused in achieving her dream of pursuing a career as a pastry chef. I think maybe tomorrow we'll have to drive down valley to visit the 'CIA' for lunch. I know for sure the food will be superb and the weather promises to ensure another opportunity to dine outside. ....I know, what a drag, but someone has to do it.
Boomers on the Road....7/4/10
Sometimes fate takes us down a road we didn't expect but once we arrive, we're delighted. This is what happened to us this week. Kaylanne has been reading the Twilight series of books, written in the setting of Forks, Washington, and she was intrigued to see what the town was like in 'real life'. We have this great atlas that Robert Donald gave us from State Farm that is pretty much our travel bible, and it showed a state park near Forks, so we set out to find it, missed it, found ourselves headed down a very pretty road that had no where to turn around...remember we're towing a forty foot fifth wheel...at the end of the road was the Quileute Indian Reservation and the village of La Push. We stopped at the La Push Sheriff's office (since the deputy was standing in the doorway and we were turning around in their parking lot) and asked about a camp ground only to find that a few more miles down the road was a relatively new camp ground with RV spots. On we trekked and as the deputy had directed us, found a really nice spot, with pull through sites and a view of the Pacific Ocean with great giant rocks scattered in the bay, some with trees, others standing like silent sentinels guarding the beaches which were littered with the bones of huge trees that had been washed up during a storm, apparently years ago since they were sun bleached and some even hollowed out. It is one of those scenic places you'd expect to find on a travel log or post card that we would never have found had we not "gotten lost" while looking for some place else. Kaylanne was more than happy since First Beach,where we camped,is named in the book,as are the Quileute tribe and she even got a picture of the house where one of the characters 'lived'. We checked in at the park office and met Nathan, one of the local guys, got settled and spent a restful night listening to the waves crashing on the rocks nearby. The following morning Kaylanne and I went for a stroll and ran into Nathan again and were invited to the Drum Circle that evening which turned out to be a pot-luck dinner to boot. The locals were warm and receptive and many visited with us throughout dinner. During Circle we were introduced to everyone as were the few other visitors who were also there. The drummers sang, telling stories of Quileute history and lore while the dancers told the story with their dance, reminding me of the many hula dances I have had the privilege to witness. It was such an unexpected and amazing evening of entertainment and fellowship that lasted for hours; both Tom and I wondered at how the singers, whose resonant male voices harmonized so richly and mesmerized us so completely, would even be able to talk the next day.
The following day Kaylanne, Tom and Isabella spent at the beach, much of the time in the company of our new found friend Vince. I enjoyed the quiet and darkness of the camper as I nursed a migraine. That night most of the residents of La Push participated in a great bon fire on the beach with fire works. The following day we spent exploring the little town of Forks where Kaylanne was able to take pictures of various sites mentioned in the book. That evening Vince joined us for a fun game of Crazy Rummy.
And now tonight I can barely walk after a six mile hike through the woods (in dappled sunlight) to find the waterfall we heard about during our visit to the Sol Duc Hot Springs Resort. In re-reading my little diary of events, I can see that my time line is all out of whack, but that's not important. Somewhere along the way Kaylanne and I returned to Port Angeles to see the latest installment of the series of films. Of course we just had to see it in the theater where Bella and Edward,(two main characters) had gone for a date, and we had lunch in The Lodge Restaurant in Forks, another scene from one of the books. I have never read any of the books myself, but Kaylanne pretty much filled me in on what they're about and it was kind of fun to be with her as she followed the journey of Bella throughout much of the countryside.
About half way between Forks and Port Angeles, along Highway 101, is one of the prettiest lakes I've ever laid eyes upon. It is crystal clear, like Lake Tahoe on the border of California and Nevada, and changes color from turquoise to steel blue depending upon the depth and angle of the sun. Homes flank the lake on the far side, sparsely, some had wisps of smoke that drifted up from stone chimneys and the road follows the bank so closely at times you can actually see the bottom of the lake. Fortunately there are several pull-outs along the way so we could stop and soak in the beauty and mystery of this seldom visited lake. It is forested all around and sits surrounded by steep hills, maybe mountains since some still had the remnants of winter snow at their peaks and near the banks are purple fox gloves, the sweetest little snow white daisies and myriad wild flowers. All this beauty for one's eyes and rich spicy and woodsy smells for one's nose...it is surely a place to feel the work of our Almighty God! We have driven by this lake three times during different times of the day and there has always been a little fog or low lying clouds following the curvature of the hillsides and valleys. I was completely enchanted with this place. Tomorrow is Sunday. I think I'd like to go back there, find the pull-out with the circular stone wall and pathway and have a family service with Kaylanne reading to us from her current study of Proverbs. I know for sure that we will be in His presence there and I'm pretty sure He'd approve.
The following day Kaylanne, Tom and Isabella spent at the beach, much of the time in the company of our new found friend Vince. I enjoyed the quiet and darkness of the camper as I nursed a migraine. That night most of the residents of La Push participated in a great bon fire on the beach with fire works. The following day we spent exploring the little town of Forks where Kaylanne was able to take pictures of various sites mentioned in the book. That evening Vince joined us for a fun game of Crazy Rummy.
And now tonight I can barely walk after a six mile hike through the woods (in dappled sunlight) to find the waterfall we heard about during our visit to the Sol Duc Hot Springs Resort. In re-reading my little diary of events, I can see that my time line is all out of whack, but that's not important. Somewhere along the way Kaylanne and I returned to Port Angeles to see the latest installment of the series of films. Of course we just had to see it in the theater where Bella and Edward,(two main characters) had gone for a date, and we had lunch in The Lodge Restaurant in Forks, another scene from one of the books. I have never read any of the books myself, but Kaylanne pretty much filled me in on what they're about and it was kind of fun to be with her as she followed the journey of Bella throughout much of the countryside.
About half way between Forks and Port Angeles, along Highway 101, is one of the prettiest lakes I've ever laid eyes upon. It is crystal clear, like Lake Tahoe on the border of California and Nevada, and changes color from turquoise to steel blue depending upon the depth and angle of the sun. Homes flank the lake on the far side, sparsely, some had wisps of smoke that drifted up from stone chimneys and the road follows the bank so closely at times you can actually see the bottom of the lake. Fortunately there are several pull-outs along the way so we could stop and soak in the beauty and mystery of this seldom visited lake. It is forested all around and sits surrounded by steep hills, maybe mountains since some still had the remnants of winter snow at their peaks and near the banks are purple fox gloves, the sweetest little snow white daisies and myriad wild flowers. All this beauty for one's eyes and rich spicy and woodsy smells for one's nose...it is surely a place to feel the work of our Almighty God! We have driven by this lake three times during different times of the day and there has always been a little fog or low lying clouds following the curvature of the hillsides and valleys. I was completely enchanted with this place. Tomorrow is Sunday. I think I'd like to go back there, find the pull-out with the circular stone wall and pathway and have a family service with Kaylanne reading to us from her current study of Proverbs. I know for sure that we will be in His presence there and I'm pretty sure He'd approve.
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