snow days

Life imitating art again...once I get on a theme, it is difficult to distract me. Okay, here is painting by Bev Doolittle. And here is a photo by me.....and I am done for now.

We have had lots of dog walkies lately...everyone loves the snow. It brings out the wild in everyone, especially Emma's friend, Yuko.

It even makes the boat in the neighbour's yard pretty. Living on an island, you'd be suprised just how many boats, once put in someone's yard, never touch water again. Well, rain, obviously. In this case, snow...but you get my point. Right? And my wisteria looks almost as good dressed in snow as it does dressed in purple blooms.

Okay, back to the dog walks...here we are at Harewood Mines. We were the first ones out there after the big dump. Our prints were the only ones. It was pretty special.

It was also pretty cold. We were bundled. It's still cold. Really cold. It keeps the snow nice but for us wimps(yes, I am a wimp, I know it!), it's just about enough, really.

See? No tracks...that is pretty nice.

Notice any dogs? Nope? They have all gone beserk by this point and are off crashing through the snow, noses down like snowplows, pushing up great piles over their heads. They are crazed by the white, snuffling and snorting until they come up sneezing snow and then right back to it. Except poor Emma, linked to me with a leash because she won't come back to me when called...poor little frustrated creature. Me, that is. I hate that leash just about as much as she must. I have no clear idea how to get past this impasse. She comes when we call her indoors, but outside her hunting instincts take over and it's like I am no longer even there. Yesterday's news.

My favourite arbutus grove, the red wood looks so beautiful against the white background. Every walk is a new discovery of the same things. I will have to take you to Morrell Bird Sanctuary tomorrow...since I don't really have any stories to tell right now, unless you really want to hear about painting the basement...which does look ten thousand times better, thanks for asking!

Our footprints going out cross over our footprints going in....

and time for me to head along now, too. The sun has reached my side of the street and melted the ice off the car and I have some errands to run this morning.

Buddha in Snow

It's cold here, cold enough for the snow to stay...still fluffy, still white. That's not a normal west coast snow kind of thing. It usually gets slushy and wet, crusty on the top, with mud mixed in. I guess I should be thankful for the cold because at least the snow remains beautiful. I should remain at peace with the weather...

...and not wonder why a tap on the front of my house that was turned off has a giant icicle hanging off of it. I shouldn't worry where that water came from, right? It's nothing...as long as everything is frozen, anyway.

I shouldn't worry that even the crows can't keep ahead of the snow...we have snow-spotted crows staring in the window at us. They know there is heat in here. They are making me nervous. I've seen "the Birds."

And I shouldn't worry that the Gabriola Ferry is running the day after they nearly plunged a man to his death by pulling away from the dock while he was being told to load his vehicle on. They figured it all out, right? Why he had to jump out of his truck at the very last minute while it tipped off the ramp into the bay? Nah, I don't have to worry about that one. I am never leaving this island again. Sheesh.

And I don't need to worry that the ice is getting so bad that RCMP are directing motorists not to go up or down the hill downtown...because I am not driving anywhere right now. No way. Not down that hill, anyway.

But, still...see what I do have to worry about? It's f'ing freezing out there and still...you have got to be kidding me. There's an f'ing hooker across the street. Nobody was out cruising in this weather, she's not one of the regulars, and she does not look the part. She was there for hours, literally. After a good, long while, I actually started to feel sorry for her. It was damn cold.

But then? Someone showed up to make a drug deal with her, right here on my street...where my friends live, and my neighbours' live with their children and I was not so inclined to worry about her anymore...and have been trying to think of a new plan to put into action to discourage johns from picking up hookers here...I have a few ideas in mind. Anyone else?

maxfield

Maxfield Parrish is one of my favourite artists. He captured moments in time that really, truly are moments. That exact moment of sunrise or sunset that bathes everything in beauty...where there is nothing but grace in the world around us. This is Maxfield. Have you been graced by these moments? I have found these precious minutes throughout my life. In Hawaii, around 5:30am to 6am, there is a moment, one moment, where everything is bathed in red light. It is glorious...and astounding. In Colorado, it happens a lot. I think it has something to do with how high in the atmosphere I was there, and the particular colour of blue in the sky there. Texas had it in the stormy seasons when the clouds hit the hot sun at daybreak. Here, those moments are not as reliable. Two nights ago, Maxfield Parrish painted our skies.

This is me.

Once again, this is Maxfield.

And this is Maxfield.

And this, this is Maxfield, as well. Doesn't it make you take a deep breath and just feel...I don't know.......good? And it's a painting. It's something done with strokes of paint, with a brush, on canvas...but it feels almost as good as the real thing. This is Maxfield.

And this? This is me, with a little help from the powers that be. This is one of those moments when my breath catches, my heart aches, but it is a good ache, and I am in love with the world around me.

Moments that make me want to cry, but they would be tears of joy. Tears that convey all the things that I do not have words for...thank you. Thank you. I love the gifts given.

Once again, Maxfield.

Myself.

I nominate....

Michael found this online today and sent it to me.... a site where we can nominate our favorite blogs of 2006....for an award...like an Emmy or a Juneau for blogs...better yet, like the Stanley Cup of Blogtown....and a cash prize of(hold your breath) $20.07 U.S. currency...I know who I am nominating(and no, it is not myself!!!!)...do you?

Let's get the word around, okay? Wouldn't be a hoot and a half if somebody we all read daily won????

On your mark, get set, gooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!

hmmmmmm

Another storm rolled in last night... ...and the snow was beautiful and the sky was ominous so out of curiosity I just had to look...I had to....

ooooh, I shouldn't have looked....

South Padre Island today was 70 degrees Farenheit today(21 dgrees Celcius) and sunny and blue skies and look at the web cam photos!!! The beaches were empty...

This was my very favorite time of year down there. Tourists were sparse, the days were usually mild and the miles of beaches were wide open to us residents to roam, dogs off leash and crazed in the surf, the pace was slow , smiles came easy. Big Band Phil played the oldies(and I mean the OLDIES)twice a week at the hotel down the street. We were the youngest in the crowd by a good thirty years. Lovely, lovely.

It's frozen outside and snowing again right now.

Hmmmmmm.

here we go again

Honestly, Cara, come pick up your weather... This is just not supposed to be happening here....

...and our power went off, however briefly, and that is not okay... wind and snow, another cold snap on the way....um. When did we move east?

I am not made with the kind of rugged good nature that can stand up to the constant onslaught of crazy weather, rain storm, wind storm, snow storm, and back again. Just when one storm cleanup is underway....not even finsished, just underway....

...another storm blows in from the water and we begin again. I love my pellet stove at this moment, but when the power cut out, I was a bit worried...it needs electricity to keep the fuel going so without electricity, we have no heat. Eeeeeks. Can someone tell me why I left the Gulf Coast of Texas now? Huh? Please?

not counting the ferry ride

Emma wants us to change the radio station....or turn off the window defrost, I'm not sure which. But starting out on this post, I want you to know when I say "not counting the ferry ride" means you add about two and a half to three hours to all travel times I am talking about...half hour loading(or waiting to load), two hours crossing, half hour(sometimes) unloading....okay?

Our trip down to Olympia took 10 hours. 10 hours, not counting the ferry ride. I-5 traffic at the beginning of a holiday weekend. It's enough to make me cry...really. Michael and I made a pact that next year we stay home. In our house. In our home. We'll get a tree, we'll make a turkey, we'll have spare beds ready. Enough is enough. We have done our fair share. We spent bunches of money just getting on and off the island, gas, time off, etc. I got sick...again. It happens every time I go down because there is so much going on that it is impossible to eat right, sleep right, be good to yourself, nourish your body correctly with family meal after family meal involving something with noodles and cream of mushroom soup....events to get to, friends to catch up with, microbreweries to sample..... Coming home, we made the trip in about 5 hours, not counting the ferry ride...here is where we always hold our breath and grit our teeth...coming into Seattle....but we just flew right through. Sweet.

North of Seattle, near the US/Canadian border is this little gem. We pass it every trip...this time, since we were making such good time, we stopped to take a gander and ponder the possibility of this life for us...

I know we don't have what it takes...I know it. But every time I see a place like this, I'd like to believe I have it, even just for one moment. Don't get me wrong, we'd live in the country just fine. I just have genuine doubts about Michael's ability or mine to get up every morning and tend something like this. But it sure is pretty.
However, I think, we would like to someday live in the country and still participate in activities just like this one....

...it's so good to be home, again. Just today, I can feel the cold and flu virus giving up it's hold on me. Michael and I went for a walk yesterday that I thought might just do me in, but today's hike felt invigorating, if not a bit soggy and so I am happy to be on the road to wellness and being able to participate in my New Year's resolutions of eating well and exercising regularly again. We moved all obstacles from my elliptical machine and I think tomorrow I can make it through the day without cold medicine or a nap. So, better late than never, Happy New Year.

It's the water.... and a lot more

This is one of the claims to fame of my hometown...this and Sleater-Kinney and Curt Cobain spent some time here...I never saw them, or I didn't know them at the time. They would have been scruffy teenangsters in plaid shirts and Chuck Taylors held together with duct tape....just like me. Actually, I guess, they would have been pre-teenangsters when I was hanging out downtown. But the brewery, now....now that I do remember. I remember the smell of warm hops permeating my childhood and the 4 o'clock whistle blowing everyday. I remember taking countless tours in the summers when it was hot outside and walking into the cold storage room in shorts and a teeshirt, breath fogging, goosebumps rising. And the tasting room at the end of the tour where those of us under age 21 got Pepsi served to us in tiny plastic cups instead of Olympia beer. Giant copper tanks that shined. Row upon row of kegs waiting to be filled and shipped. It's all gone now, except for the empty buildings. Even the whistle.
The park is still here(that building is the brewery)...Tumwater Falls Park. It may be one of my favorite places on earth. It's not that big but it sure packs a punch. I visit every time I'm home. It is one of my oldest and dearest friends. Do you all have a place like this?

I am going to tell you a secret now...don't tell my mom because she would be mad. When I was a kid, little, like starting age 6 or so, I used to ride my bike out here to this park with my backpack stuffed with toys. It was at least 3 miles, through busy intersections along a major roadway...alone. I would spend hours there on a sunny day and then bike home. She always thought I was around the apartment complex where we lived or in the fields behind us. Sometimes I rode all the way into downtown Olympia to go to my favorite bookstore...but mostly I rode here.

In the summer, the river is not nearly so raging, and you can see the old fish ladders that are still in use in the right season.

Isn't it beautiful here? Okay, now, imagine summer and the river is a bit lazy...not this foaming monster. We used to swim here in childhood. It was frowned upon but not against the law. Now there are signs posted everywhere stating you cannot swim here. Then, on a hot summer day, my mom and her boyfriend would bring us here and we could sit on warm rocks and swim in the quiet spots. Maybe it wasn't the safest thing, but I treasure those memories...this is my river.

This was the original brewery established in 1896. It is a beautiful old building, also empty and falling deeper into disrepair every year. I don't understand how Olympia lets it's own memories collapse. It is frustrating.
It's a landmark of this town...

This is at the lower falls, but I couldn't take a picture of the falls because it was throwing so much mist up that it would have soaked the camera. It was raging. I went and stood in that cold mist, as I have done a thousand times before. It is an embrace that I cannot describe...my welcome home.

This is the bridge over the lower falls...take a good look now, since I can't show the falls proper.

This is that bridge on an old Oly label. See those falls? In our teenangst years(once again, without parental knowledge), when we were INVINCIBLE(...you remember those times, don't you?), we used to jump these falls. One of my friends actually jumped from the bridge! Yes, he made it every time. The pool at the base of these falls is deep, deep, deep.
Once I got caught in the river current and was slammed into a few rocks... but it didn't keep me from going back for more.

I can't get enough of this park...

...but these more sedate years, a quiet meander around will do it for me.

Although the roar of the falls and feel of that mist settling still gives me a rush that reminds me of Invincibility...and the thrill is still there.

One year later, today

I can almost bear it...but I still miss her. Maggie

Guess what I got for Christmas!

A cold. Talk tomorrow.

being Home

I used to hate it here. Here being my hometown, Olympia. It was nothing but angst and drama...couldn't wait to leave, never wanted to come back. I had amazing friends here, though. Still do. I would not have made it without my friends...thank you, one. Thank you, all. It's amazing how crazy your own family can make you feel without meaning to...I realize now that they never meant it. That's part of being a grown up, I guess. They all grew up, too, more or less. It's all so strange now...but good, too. Most of the time. And now, at last, we ALL can walk on eggshells for the two times a year when we get together. Some of us are nearly whole again...my dad has been sober since I was in my mid-twenties. He has reached a point of comfort in his sobriety that I spent years thinking he'd never reach. I have reached a point in my sobriety that feels like I am no longer "recovering." We never talk about it but do recognize this thing that binds us closest together. Our addictions.
That and Willie Nelson.
When my father looks at me now, I can watch his face light up. It feels just as good at age 38 as it should have at 8. And I can forgive him everything. I understand now.

My relationship with my family has always been difficult... so far behind my brother and sister that I was more like an only child. Also, my parents lost a son to childhood leukemia long before I came into the picture...and they broke. They shattered. It's not unusual...I would break, too. I can see that as an adult. They held me at arm's length, something that could possibly drag them under. As a kid, all I knew was that we were ALL broken, all uneven and unwell, felt that I was a burden and wished I lived with Gramma. Where I felt safe and loved and warm. Thank god for Gramma, too. I love and miss you...immensely. Wish you were here to meet Michael. You would love him so.You wouldn't have to worry anymore. I'm fine.

But growth comes...mind and spirit and body. And I am loved and treasured and feel safe in the arms of most of my family now. Some of us are still broken and will never mend. I can see that now, though, and recognize it, hold it and forgive it. Sometimes it frustrates me but I didn't come through all I did to dwell on what I cannot change. So, the holidays are a time of pain, always. Now, they are also a time of Joy. Of Love and Forgiveness. Of Goodwill. Of Tragedy and of Triumph. And that is what our time here is all about. I do love my family. I know they love me, too, in whatever capacity they can. It is true love...

At the end of the difficult days, there are my friends to savour...and to embrace, to treasure and covet and delight in. Friends for so long that I barely remember my life before them. I can feel my own face light up in their presence. Hell, I can feel it light up just now thinking about them...and their families that are my family and I miss them all over again right now. I love you all. Come visit soon. You all make me laugh loud and long. And Michael, too. WE love you.

Emma enjoyed herself immensely, though she was so distracted by the cats that she forgot to eat...for two days. She loved my friends and family, too... though I am so very sorry, S&L, that she peed twice in your house. She did so well the rest of the trip. You must be very special.

And on the final days of our visit, Emma finally was getting used to sharing her space with the Kittens...Mr. Butterscotch and Mr. Buttertubs, that she even slept on the same couch as Buttertubs. She probably even misses her little antagonist now.

More fun tomorrow....less introspection!

Welcome 2007

Well, I'd like to say the year was starting off on a new track around here...

but I'd be lying. Check out those boots, man! And, by the way, no she is not waiting for a bus or a cab...Happy New Year.