Dear Colin

You've probably noticed that I've tucked references to Bermuda into a couple of recent posts, whether or not it was really relevant.  That's because mentally, I'm still there.   I'm not sure what it was about that trip in June, but the sights and feel of Bermuda have stayed with me more than any "tropical" vacation I've taken.  We've been lucky over the years to have traveled to Hawaii, the Mexican Caribbean, and the U.S. Virgin Islands...all beautiful tropical destinations.  But Bermuda...ahh, well, it's just special.

Of course, it may have been the very special wedding; seeing your daughter so happy is bound to make for many fond memories.  

But, there was really something more than that.  From the time we stepped off the plane until the time we left five days later, I was mesmerized by this little island just 650 miles off the coast of North Carolina.

By the beautiful waters in so many shades of turquoise.

By the lush greenery and the colorful houses with their pristine white roofs (for collecting the rain water).

By the incredibly friendly, accommodating, and gracious Bermudians, who seem to have eluded my camera...

Bermuda's tourism slogan: "Feel the love".  It's truth in advertising.  I can't wait to go back.

So, dear Colin,

Please leave my island alone.   Thank you.

Beach, Coast, Ocean, Shore...

We just spent a very enjoyable long weekend traveling around parts of Oregon with our neighbors.  And not just one set of neighbors; two sets!  We are incredibly fortunate to live in a place where you can actually get to know your neighbors.  Believe me, I know that doesn't happen everywhere.  And in this case, I really have to give credit to my DH.  The man doesn't know a stranger, and every place we've ever lived throughout our married life, we've collected neighbor-friends.  Right now, we happen to be very fortunate to have fun neighbors.  Neighbors with similar interests, good taste in beer, and a beach house.

We set out on Friday, and following a stop for lunch at P.F. Chang's in Tigard (lettuce wraps...yum), we did a mini-tour of McMenamin's properties west of Portland: Rock Creek Tavern, Cornelius Pass Roadhouse & Imbrie Hall.

Burl mushrooms at the Rock Creek Tavern.  Tried the seasonal Copper Moon here.

The grounds at Cornelius Pass Roadhouse are worth wandering. 
Enjoyed my favorite McMenamin's brew (Hammerhead) here.

From there, it was an overnight stay at McMenamin's Grand Lodge.

 

The view from our room at the Grand Lodge.  I love hydrangeas!  Can you tell?
If you don't try the Terminator Brownie Sundae here, you're nuts.

Saturday morning, we took off for McMinnville and the Evergreen Air and Space Museum.  The drive through some of Oregon's Wine Country between Forest Grove and McMinnville is just beautiful, by the way. I suddenly found myself planning another trip:  definitely need to check out the Sip 47 Wine Route.

The Museum is home to the Spruce Goose, a very fine B-17 (my uncle flew on these during WWII), and the SR-71, among many, many others.  If you have even the slightest interest in flight, this museum shouldn't be missed.  I won't go into all the details, but you can certainly find them here.  The IMAX "Legends" movie is worth every penny, also.

It's ridiculous to even try to capture the entire Spruce Goose in one pic without a decent wide-angle lens.

Absolutely nothing to do with flight, but the rose hips in the museum parking lot are the biggest I've ever seen.  Seriously.  Like big cherry tomatoes.  Or small apples.

And then, we were off to the beach! From these photos, you might think we had three days of clouds.  Not so!  It was gorgeous and sunny most of the time.  But on Sunday morning when we hiked out to Cape Kiwanda, the clouds were a little slow to burn off.  And by evening, they were back just long enough to enhance the sunset.

Clockwise from top left:  View of Pacific City and beach from Cape Kiwanda; a view of the "other" Haystack rock on the Oregon Coast; bonfires at sunset on the beach; the beautiful, rugged point at Cape Kiwanda.

All during my growing-up years in Very Northern California, we would take trips to "the coast".  Some of my friends called it going to "the ocean".  After living in Central Oregon for the past few years, I've noticed many people here call it going to "the beach".  I've heard some of my east coast acquaintances call it going to "the shore", but I've never heard it called that out west.  So, now I'm curious.  What do you call it?

All kinds of inspired

Last Saturday was the 35th anniversary of the Sisters Outdoor Quilt Show, and my fourth year of attending.  One of my cousins came over from Eugene for the weekend, and we picked up my friend Sue on Saturday morning and headed for Sisters.  We left Bend a bit earlier this year (8:30-ish), which made for a much shorter sit in traffic on the way (although a normally 20-minute drive did take 40...).  I have to say, if you must sit in traffic, the highway to Sisters is the place to do it...

Life imitating art.  Well, sort of...

In recent years, the number of quilts dressing Sisters' buildings seems to hover around 1,300.  I dare you to see them all (and remember them!) in the one day they're up.  I can't imagine going to this event without a camera; by the end of the day, I was literally on sensory overload...in a good way, but still, without the camera I'd be woefully inept at recalling some of the incredible artwork we saw that day.

Jean Wells Keenan, owner of The Stitchin' Post, started this little event.  I wonder if she had ANY idea the impact she'd be making for the town of Sisters and the surrounding area over the years.  It's reported that some $2+ million comes to the area over the week of the show and its surrounding classes and events.   That's a nice little economic shot in the arm, don't you think?  And all because Jean had an idea to hang some quilts outside.  Inspiring.

  Exterior wall of The Stitchin' Post, featuring quilts from the "Employee Challenge". 

One of Jean's designs.

Each year, I go there thinking that I won't see much new under the sun; that it will be the same techniques, same patterns, same, same, same.  And happily, again this year I was wrong!  Here are a few that made it onto my camera.  I wish I'd done a better job of noting the artists' names on some of these.  Really amazing work.

 Fabric and paint on wood.

 "Leaf Me Alone" by Tonye Phillips

No surprise...I was really attracted to flower designs

See what I mean?

And taken with this one...one of the few quilts I saw that a gentleman had made.  Loved his color choices.

Here's the raffle quilt I (sniff) didn't win.  Love that fence!  Beautiful perspective.

Not to be out-done, the street corners in Sisters were dressed in their finery, too.  More inspiration.

So...another year down, and I'm inspired...seeing some of my favorite fabrics used in new ways and color combinations....by the sheer beauty I saw all around me that day, both hand-crafted and natural...by the incredible talent that participates in the show each year. 

If you'll excuse me, I'm off to go create something.  Maybe a quilt depicting this:

Bermuda.  Also inspiring.

Check with me in 2015 and see how it's going.

New Season(s).

It's the first day of summer!  After spring pulled a no-show, I'm thrilled to see summer starting off with blue skies and warmer temps.  It feels like we're getting a fresh start and putting a long, cold winter and spring behind us at last.  Seeing a forecast that calls for near-80's this week makes me very happy.  I think I've mentioned it before:  I'm a Bend-in-the-summer girl.

Today is actually beginning a few new seasons for our family.  After a magical wedding and honeymoon in Bermuda, our youngest daughter and her new husband are starting a life together.

Hitched!

After five years in New York City, our oldest daughter and her family are re-locating to Birmingham, Alabama for a year, while our son-in-law completes his fellowship in sports medicine. 

We're looking forward to visiting them, to see if we notice any differences between NYC and Birmingham.  Ha!

Here at home, we're looking forward to what might be a little bit quieter season.  The past three months have been filled with lots of travels and many very special family events, none of which I'd have ever considered missing.  But, I'm ready for a new season...to garden, create some new bag designs, reconnect with our friends and neighbors, curl up on the front porch or back deck with a good book or knitting project, take some hikes, have some picnics, catch a Bend Elks ball game or two, and just enjoy beautiful Bend.

 I hope your new season holds warm and wonderful things!

Like hotcakes, I tell ya.

April and May (thus far) have been filled with lots of travel and family time, and it doesn't appear that will change much between now and the latter part of June.  I've been to northern California, Seattle, the southern Oregon coast, Boston and New York City.  I've celebrated a niece turning 40 (always a great reality check for those times when I get to thinking I'm not really that old.  Oh yes, I am!), watched a granddaughter be baptized, attended our daughter's bridal shower, met our future son-in-law's family, attended the umpteenth annual family Easter egg hunt (see last year's post on that one), met my newest great-nephew who came into the world at a whopping 3 lbs., 10 oz. (and eight weeks early), and had a little "down time" with four of my seven girls' weekend girls.

While I wouldn't have missed a single one of those events for the world, it's made for interesting times in terms of trying to keep up with the rest of life, as evidenced by my nearly two-month absence here.   My house is passable, but certainly not up to my usual standard of clean.  My writing work has been done on schedule, but I haven't been actively pursuing additional projects due to all the travel and family commitments on the horizon.  I've not been able to get to Knit-Up since early April.

What I have been doing is this:

Reversible drawstring bags

I'm not usually one to cast blame, but I really have no choice here.  It's my friend Melissa's fault.  She asked me for a bag for her one-skein knitting projects.  So, I made her one.  Then I made a couple more and put them on Etsy.  They sold.  Then, I received an order for nine.  Then, I was contacted by a yarn shop owner in NY about private-labeling some for her shop (we'll see what, if anything, comes of that).   And in the midst of it all, orders for my other bags seem to keep coming, as well.  

I may have to give up sleep between now and the end of June, but I'm having a blast.  And thankfully, I've been so busy that this ridiculous weather has been little more than an annoyance.  I can hardly imagine how guilty I'd feel spending my day at the sewing machine if it was actually warm enough to garden...

I really don't know what to say.

It all started innocently enough about three weeks ago.  I found this lovely pattern for a little bolero shrug, and thought it would be perfect for an upcoming island trip in mid-June.

So I picked up some Lion Brand Cotton Ease in Taupe (because I figured Taupe will go with pretty much everything, and I presently have no clue what I'm going to wear under it), and with instructions at the ready I cast on and went merrily on my way.   The three inches of k2 p2 rib was just the right amount to avoid getting bored.  Time for the lace pattern!

This pattern is short and sweet, concisely written, and the lace pattern is easy to memorize.  Pretty, isn't it?

It would probably be even prettier if I had followed instructions.  

I am now 15.5 inches into this project...three weeks later...about two evenings a week of relaxing repetition...without adult beverages, I might add...and it's time to revert back to k2 p2 rib to complete the top.  Or bottom.  I'm not sure which.  It's basically a rectangle before you seam it, so it probably doesn't matter.  What matters is this:

Do you see it?  Do you see that part that says "Switch to size 8 needles now..."?  Well, I saw it.  And I dug into my handy dandy interchangeable needle kit to switch back to my size 8 needles, only to discover that I had only one size 8 needle in my handy dandy interchangeable needle kit.  My other size 8 needle was missing!  Where could it be?  Who had been pilfering my handy dandy interchangeable needle kit?  My knit-up friends aren't the pilfering type, so it certainly couldn't be them.  My husband doesn't knit.  Neither does the dog.  I don't have any other projects going right now with the exception of socks, and we all know those don't use size 8 needles, now don't we?

And then I discovered it.  My other size 8 needle wasn't missing at all.

It was on the end of my cable. Opposite my size 10.5 needle.  The one that was supposed to have a matching 10.5 needle on the other end of the cable, but whose matching 10.5 needle was tucked snugly in my handy dandy interchangeable needle kit.

One of these things is not like the other.

No wonder that one row seemed a little tight on the needle.  And maybe that explains why the lace pattern seems to slant to the right.  Heck, I don't know.  I seriously don't know what to say about it all (she says, despite the fact that she's been rambling for several paragraphs...).  I'm still sitting here wondering how I went three weeks without noticing I was knitting with needles of two (noticeably) different sizes.

Obviously, the lack of adult beverages was NO help at all.  Hmph.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

Forty-three years ago, my parents bought a 160-acre property in rural northern California. It was what would be known today as a "hobby farm". We moved there when I was two, and I grew up there. At the time we called it a ranch, though in retrospect I know it doesn't qualify due to its size. We grew alfalfa, grain, pasture grass, and over the years raised beef, dairy cows, chickens, pigs, kept bees and extracted honey (if you've never extracted honey, I highly recommend it!), had dozens of barn cats, two fox terriers, and had a couple of horses around for general purposes.

The house was nothing to write home about...built by the original owners in the 1940's, it has always been obvious that many corners were cut. Insulation was apparently deemed an unnecessary luxury, and the plumbing and wood stove flue/chimney would often set my Dad reciting a string of expletives that I've yet to master (think "A Christmas Story" and the boiler in the basement, and you'll get the idea). By the time we moved to the property, two of the six kids were already grown and gone, which made the three-bedroom, one-bath setup a bit more bearable...only six people to accommodate!

Our view out the front window was of Mt. Shasta. 14,162 feet of wondrous Cascade volcano. No matter where life and travels take me, I always get a special feeling when I round a corner on the highway and see that mountain come into view...I'm instantly home.

At some point along the way--I don't remember the exact year--Dad and Mom sold half of the property, leaving them with a more manageable 80 acres. When one of my four brothers returned from college with his degree in field agronomy and became engaged, they sold half of the 80 to him and his new wife.

I learned about responsibility and work ethic on this property. My Dad worked full time as an appraiser for the county before retiring in 1982. Watching him work a full time job, and then work a second full time job irrigating, haying, calving, feeding, milking cows, etc. gave me an appreciation for doing what needs to be done.  The rewards were tangible, and the most basic of farm chores stay with me today in the form of fond memories.  To this day, one of my favorites is getting up with Dad around 4:00 - 4:30 a.m., climbing on the tractor with the baler in tow, and baling hay for a few hours while watching the sun come up over the mountains that rim the Shasta Valley.  The smells, sights, and sounds of that experience will be with me forever.  It was heaven on earth.

And now, the time has come for a new chapter for this beautiful piece of property.  Since Dad passed away in 1984 (having only two years of retirement to enjoy his beloved ranch), Mom has stayed, feeding calves and thawing the water trough in the winter, hauling wood for the wood stove, working in the yard.  She's 85 now with macular degeneration, and none of those things are nearly as manageable for her as they once were.  After much deliberation on her part, she came to the realization it was time for a change.  Which explains my absence for the past couple of weeks.  I've been down helping her sort through nearly 44 years of memories, paperwork, and STUFF.  And, for the first time in 60 years she now lives back in town, out of view of her mountains. To say it's a big change for her would be an enormous understatement.

As I lifted the last box and prepared to leave the house on Saturday, I stood in the kitchen and replayed my own decades of memories.  The huge family dinners; the nights when my parents would have their friends over to play cards; game nights with Dad, Mom, and my brother; quiet Sunday afternoons with a book in front of the fireplace.  I feel blessed that the vast majority of memories were filled with lots of laughter and contentment.  My parents provided me with a wonderful home life and childhood, and I will be forever grateful.

And now, while one book closes, another begins.  My brother's son has purchased the ranch from Mom, and will relocate there soon to return it to its prior operation.  Cows, dogs, hay, grain, and early-morning baling will return as the next generation takes its turn. I think Dad would approve.

I didn't medal. Not even close. But I'm still happy!

I thought this year I'd play along with Ravelry's "Ravelympics", attempting to complete a project during the 16 days of the Winter Olympics.  Deciding to challenge myself with socks for the first time, I ordered some pretty red Stroll kettle-dyed fingering weight from Knitpicks, and dove in to the Monkey Sock pattern from Cookie A...about three days into the games.  That should've been my first clue that this was not going to happen.  But hey...I've never claimed to be a genius.  And, I had a lot going on with sewing orders.  I also had two other knitting projects in the works that, due to various reasons, did not qualify to enter Ravelympics.

So, here's where the sock stands as of closing ceremonies.  The bad news:  one sock, not close to finished...

 The good news:  I've learned to turn a heel and work the gusset, and it's not nearly as intimidating as I thought it would be (unless, of course, I'm doing something very, very wrong...).  I'm really enjoying the lace work in this pattern...easy to follow and pretty when it's on.

Now, about those other two projects I mentioned above.  I've alluded to one of them for several weeks months now, and am happy to report that it's complete before its first birthday (according to my Ravelry page, I started this on 3/18/2009.  Another reason I like Ravelry:  it keeps you honest!).  Here it is...the Cables and O's Cardigan by Brooke Snow:

I cannot begin to tell you how good it feels to have this done.  It's a great pattern, well written and not difficult to follow, but I'd let it languish for so long that I was becoming very bored with everything about it...the color, the yarn, the pattern, all of it.  Poor thing...it really didn't deserve it.   Thankfully, now that it's done, my excitement has returned and I'm looking forward to wearing it all spring!

And speaking of excitement, here's a project that was the antithesis of Cables and O's...

This is Talia, from Sweaterbabe.  I...the sloooooow knitter...finished this in just over a week (granted, I had a lot of road time to spend knitting that particular week).  Love, love, love the pattern.  Super fun!  So much so that I'll be making it again.  Soon.  In red.

So...no medals for me, but two F.O.'s and a lesson in socks.  I think I can live with that.

Super Model

I had mentioned back here that I was working on a knitting project for our newest granddaughter.  It arrived in NYC last week...  

Since I can't hold her again until April, I sent her a yarny hug. The pattern is Provence Baby Cardigan from Classic Elite Yarns, the buttons are vintage from her great-grandma's button tin, and the yarn is Dream in Color Classy in "Cool Fire."  I think it goes great with those beautiful dark eyes and all that HAIR!  

Just another of the many reasons I'm grateful to Melissa for teaching me to knit!

The dish on the new dish deal

Back here, I promised to tell you how that Tandoori Shrimp turned out.  It was delish!  The recipe was originally intended to be served as an appetizer, but we decided to turn it into a meal and serve it over brown rice.  I used the next smaller count shrimp since it was on sale, so it cooked faster.   Next time (and there will be a next time), I'll go with the size they recommend.  I nearly forgot to bring out the pineapple chutney, which would have been tragic as it was a really great complement to the shrimp.  All in all...a winner!

The following weekend, we had French Onion Burgers (DH's choice).   Since they tasted a whole lot like meatloaf to me, I didn't get too excited about them.  Don't get me wrong...I actually love meatloaf!  Just didn't feel they were a "new" dish.  Plus, I like our current meatloaf recipe better.

That brings us to this past weekend.

 

Halibut in Spanish Garlic Shrimp Sauce with Soffrito Collard Greens.  Yes, Collard Greens.  I expected to have a difficult time finding them in this part of the country, but I obviously haven't spent enough time near the Swiss Chard, Beet Greens and such.  They were everywhere! 

Oh, my, this was a keeper.  The Collard Greens were a great side dish, and they disappeared.  Of course, it could have had something to do with the minced bacon...

Progress.

See this?  

This is a bind-off.

 

And this?  This is the beginning of sleeve number two.

  

Thank goodness I only have two arms.