Catalogue #11; Hybrid name unknown.

For those of you who enjoy the orchid cactus, here is a shot of my favorite.

One way to Beat the Heat.

First of all, I told all of this story yesterday in stunning, enthralling prose, and as I tried to add a photo, Blogspot ATE my new entry. No blog; no picture; no recovery, and six or eight of my usual meaty paragraphs evaporated. Humbug!

Briefly, the day was spent in a campground in the coastal mountains of western Oregon as I participated in my first true plein air paintout on location. Artists from several kinds of groups have several chances a month to join a very loosly organized outing to do art on site in various kinds of interesting or beautiful locations. This spot was at the bottom of a deep forested valley along a cobblestone creek bed under an almost total forest canopy. In just a few rare places did the sun actually reach the stream, and that is where we settled in for about four hours. Some did pastel, a few worked in watercolor, one older Chinese fella chose to paint in black ink with colored inks as tinting, and the rest of us (three in all) stuck to oil painting.

I have spent most of six months modifying a Russian Yarka art box to be as self-sufficient as possible on this kind of paintout. I did not concentrate on producing a grand work, but tried out the modifications and unique design ideas, sampled my various new and "experienced" paints, tested various brushes and palate knives, and generally did a trial run with all equipment and supplies I have concentrated, condensed, and crammed into the kit. Mostly I am pleased, although a few more minor problems remain to be solved.

I did not realize what a reaction I would receive on this particular equipment as this is the first time ever that anyone outside immediate family has seen the box. Several of the group recognized the pochade immediately as a Yarka, made in Russia, and quite desirable and hard to obtain. I was pressed for every detail of owning a Yarka (See * below), and for a specific tour of each modification and addition. A couple of the artists had read the initial article which got me started because it is partially included in a popular plein air artbook owned by several who were present. It was hard to not appear too pleased at the attention. (I didn't mention why the importer sent me a brand new second box for fear of seeming to be too smug as a newcomer.)

Betty came along to encourage and meter out lunch and enjoy the cool of the day in the woods by the water. We probably come home too soon, since it was still 90+ at home when we arrived. I enjoyed the day, the painting, the test of gear and supplies. I'm looking forward to the next opportunity for a paintout. There are hundreds/thousands of places to keep your cool and paint it too. A murmuring streamside is one of the best.

Do you want to come along too?


(* = Two words: Garage Sale. And here is "the rest of the story". When I called the supplier to replace a broken clasp, they did not have any spare parts and sent me an entire new box by way of apology! Now the Yarkas are no longer available since the manufacturer stopped producing them. Serendippity!)

Yard Work; Tardy, but Welcome.

I should work in my yard more often, but with schedules and weather being diametrically opposed to that, desirable tasks gradually evolve to urgent chores and a figurative stitch of repair becomes a major project of recovery for lack of timely attention. I've not been able to concentrate on outside responsibilities all this spring, growing things have been sadly neglected, and clutter has triumphed.

For the last couple of days I have put hand to plow, so to speak, and have attacked some of the most overdue jobs. Mulch piles have been turned for the first time in months. Mowing of tree rings and corner weed collections is done. The leaves from last fall have been run through the gas powered power grinder. The dead limbs and twigs from last fall's downed tree are at least loaded in the trailer to be hauled away. Th three grape vines received a brief sorting and pruning and will get through this season before demanding major attention. My meager remaining collection of plants has been fed and groomed. The whole lawn and miscellaneous edges have been uniformly mowed.

A few weeks ago, Edwin hauled away almost all of the useful lumber and plywood to build his yard shed (see "Hole in the Lawn Revisited"). Additionally, several contractor size debris bags have been filled and discarded. Three plastic milk crates once useful have gone away. The remaining of wood scraps are cut to short or small pieces and boxed for campfire use. The whole garden/greenhouse corner is cleaned including raking up the loose rocks and gravel and placing it in five gallon plastic tubs for removal. Dozens of black plastic nursery pots went back to the nursery. Everything else useful went to the recent church garage sale. The last of the tree sections have been split and added to the winter woodpile which is covered and tarped again. Quite a lot of surplus stuff has been given away or routed to other ends. Simplicity is returning to the orchard area.

Only a couple of piles of dead limbs and the annual accumulation of needles and pine cones around the lawn trees remains for the next two or three trailer loads. Then I can tackle the overgrown rhodendrons that have been under-pruned for several years. A small pile of building felt and roof shingles remains to go away. I need to walk all the yard to pluck out the plantain weeds and dandilions, and I'll probably have to spray the patches of clover that are invading the grass before I fertalize the grass. I'm getting several moles from neighbor yards and that war is now underway too. The front beds along the single lane street out front need some cleaning and raking, and I want to rearrange the large rocks that now irregularly line the driveway. Nevertheless, so much progress in the past few days has lifted my spirits considerably.

Also on the brighter side, my little collection of orchid cactus is in riotous bloom and I enjoy hanging around the arbor just to admire and wonder at the beauty and scope and variety of these magnificent blossoms. God is an amazing artist. Several young little cactus received in trade at the recent Yard and Garden Idea Fair provide additional pleasure as I consider the subtle varities of color and spine patterns. There is a some fruit this year on the cherry trees, there will be a few domestic pears and Asian pears, and maybe enough plums to make jam, and several apple trees are producing too.

The drawback, of course, has been overall soreness and aching feet, kidney pains, and the lingering tiredness that takes several days to get over. Still, I have truly enjoyed for the first time in a long time the level and amount of progress that has been achieved. The partly cloudy days have been just warm enough for all the labor, and My Bride has helped by bringing water and sandwiches at welcome intervals. It's just starting to look like a park setting again instead of a junkyard. That fits my idea of simplyfying everything and minimizing the clutter. Y'all come have a look. I've got extra rakes if you need something to do.

You will be welcome.

What Beats a Family Campout?

What a wonderful camping trip we have just experienced. For a two day event, an amazing collection of activities was shared and some special new memories stored up for future enjoyment.

Mid-Thursday, June 15th, Betty and I headed east along the Columbia Gorge with Patty and her girls along in convoy. Our destination was Maryhill State Park 100 miles east of Vancouver on the north bank of the Columbia River in a stretch known as the Biggs rapids. Of course with the John Day dam just above the park and The Dalles Dam only twenty miles below there are few signs today of the former rapids; however, I understand this is one of the few places on the river where it actually falls a few feet. We did notice a remarkably strong current almost able to pull navagation bouys below the surface as the water raced west against a strong wind blowing east.

The park is quite nice and offers numerous attractive features for both tent and RV camping. Separate areas are designed for boating or swimming or other sports oriented recreations. The large camping oval accommodated a variety of large bus-type RVs, camping trailers and even a few modern versions of the old-fashioned "teardrop" mini-sleepers. To our west beyond our fifty site loop was a special tenting area with a crowd traveling on motorcycles. The bathrooms were clean and adaquate and included stalls with hot three minute showers for fifty cents. A Bargain! Each site had a firebox unit and a large table. Our spot, and many others also provided power, water and a sewer hook-up. There was plenty of parking space for our trailer and both vans (and David's truck when he arrived). We were not crowded against others, and all the park was in deep green grass under many large shade trees. Huge lawn areas provided room for many kinds of activities. Outside the drive loop were other sites just as nice including many with pull-throughs for the larger vehicles.

Set up did not take long for the trailer; once leveled, it takes only a few minutes to settle in for the duration. We did not extend the awning because of the gusty breeze which was fine for us, but the pesky wind did cause Patty some problems setting up her new family-sized three room Coleman tent. It was like tying down the sails of a clipper ship, but she and the girls mastered the intricate stays and support rods and elastics and rain fly and stakes and such, - finally. After a little additional adjustment it held up great both days. Oh Yes, they had enough gear in it to hold down a dozen tents, and that helped too.

All the camping area is beside or close to the river edge. The "beaches", instead of being sandy, were composed of small, round, smooth, flat, stones, most of them suitable for skipping across the water. The girls went were eager to go wading at the swimming area, and it was not long before the twins were accustomed to the cool water and in it completely (in basically waist deep waters) inside the double row of floats which kept boat traffic away. Tabitha did not go in very deep, but kept busy chasing the seagulls and finding pretty rocks.

Dinner was American Classic for picnic: hotdogs. And they went down fine with an enormous bag of spicy Doritos and drinks. Later we viewed the first part of a movie about "Unfortunate Events" starring Jim "Crazy" Carey. Reading and conversation ended the day and I for one was ready for that night's rest.

After breakfast and clean-ups, we drove up highway 97 to the rim of the gorge and west a couple of miles to Maryhill Museum. It's an awesome place for where it is. Sam Hill settled here a century ago and built his European style mansion but never lived in it. It is today full of remarkable art, with many beautiful items from Romania on display brought by Queen Maria when she came in 1926 to dedicate the place. The sculptor Rodin gave many of his works to Mr. Hill, and there is also one of the prime American Indian collections of artifacts to be seen anywhere. Ecclectic other collections of chess sets, and roseries, and paintings fill the many rooms. Modern and local arts and items are featured as well. We toured until David and Katie arrived and then took a picnic lunch break on the grounds amidst a gaggle of peacocks and peahens of exquisite beauty and a fearless, even aggressive desire to share our sandwiches. The cousins had fun getting comfortable again with one another and soon we all returned to complete our inspection of the museum and surrounding grounds.

Back at the camp, we played and visited and the girls went "swimming" again. It was amazing to also watch the wind-boarders (a sail on a surfboard) and para-boarders (a parachute powered surfboard) sizzle and slash across the river, jumping the chop and spinning in the air in dazzling tricks and maneuvers. Fruit - apricots and cherries and peaches - grown in orchards immediately next to the park were purchased and especially appreciated for being so fresh from the trees.

Dinner in the 20 mph wind was a challenge because we had planned to cook hobo dinners - a collection of meat and vegetables wrapped in foil - over the fire, and it took some doing to get enough fire and coals and heat to do so without creating a dangerous situation in the strong squirrley gusts. Mission was accomplished finally and all were filled to satisfaction and the food was all gone too.

About eight-thirty, everyone (except Tabby and Grandma Betty) piled into Papa John's van and we drove about fifteen miles north to the town of Goldendale, WA, and visited the country's largest public access celestial observatory which is also operated now by the Washington State Park System. The astronomers (rangers) explained about the solar system and telescopes and then set up a Dobsonian reflector outside for us to view both Saturn and Mars in the same viewfield, a rather rare event. Then following a little more discussion and instruction it was dark enough to go into the main stardome and begin viewing through the huge telescope which is the main instrument of the observatory. About a dozen guests including the six of us were treated to views of Jupiter and four of its moon, Saturn and its rings, and binary (twin) stars which seemed appropriate for our twins. We also spotted the International Space Station soaring overhead. By-the-way, Bethany was in her element, having recently experienced a session of "sidewalk stargazers" in Vancouver, and she was really prepared for this experience. The evening wore on late for the girls (and us old folks too) and we dismissed ourselves early about eleven PM. It was a sparkling (though sometimes chilly) experience.

Saturday morning was fun and games. Everything started with a Birthday Breakfast in anticipation of Katie's eighth birthday next Tuesday. There was a big "Cinnemon Roll Cake" with candles, sort of (with the wind we only got one going briefly), and the Happy Birthday song and presents. Scrambled eggs and sausage and more fruits than we could eat - strawberries, blueberries, and more (not counting the Papaya, Mangos, and the rest we didn't get to...) and hot drinks completed the meal, all before Katie opened her presents. Good Times indeed! As some of us began breaking camp, David had his radio powered cars out and the big Hummer was a hit. The girls like to poke at the campfire, and after a side trip to locate long sticks, that activity was carefully allowed too. Patty, Betty and Tabitha, packed and left about 10:30 to return to Vancouver for a wedding, and the rest of us completed the break camp chores.

Then we drove up to the rim again and visited Sam Hill's full sized replica of Stonehenge. This is a remarkable experience too. All the original design of the stone circle in England are faithfully reproduced here on an outcropping overlooking some of the most stunning scenery along the river. This was built after WWI to commemorate local soldiers who died in that conflict and some of the stones have brass nameplates attached. A final drive back to camp through the orchards and the little Maryhill community used up all remaining time and we soon said our good-byes and pulled out of the campgrounds, David and Katie headed east to Kennewick, and the twins and I west to The Dalles for lunch. A stop at Multnomah Falls put a final touch on our return drive, and we were home about 5:30.

There was more to tell, but this will be my final thought. Family is fun. Having ones children and grandchildren at hand swapping hugs and kisses and humor and teasing and special experiences makes everlasting memories which are difficult to tell in brief but which warm the heart as they are relived again and again later.

I bought that digital camera and filled the 256 MB card, but I still don't know how to pump the pictures into this computer and add shots to this blog. Maybe soon, Eh? And then I'll add a little pizzaz to all this bare text.

Thank You wife, son, daughter, granddaughters for a terrific campout. Youse guys are da best!!

(FYI: Let everyone know that I sure missed Geoffrey and Paige and Payton, and Edwin too.

After the Blues comes Celebration and Fun.

OK, I'm feeling better.

Today the Senior Saints Class came here and we did "indoor Picnic Lunch" with grilled burgers, lots of fruit and goodies, and a little cake for sweet. Then we played "Maui" and "Mexican Train" and howled away our sorrows in an afternoon of teasing and laughter and joy at being together. A celebration of friendships is a sure cure for that "empty feeling".

Then the evening group feasted on fresh Alaskan Salmon and spent the rest of the available evening singing from a collection of three different hymnals. What a great couple of hours.

I'm cured of the blues.

So tomorrow we go camping with 2/3 of our kids and 80% of our granddaughters. With an unusual museum and a huge celestial observatory and a full sized replica of Stonehenge nearby, we will have plenty to do and enjoy for entertainment.

Let me tell you all about it, ......soon.

That Strange Empty Feeling is Back.

As a rule I go about any complex task with considerable deliberate planning. That was always true of curriculum decisions. In my era as an English teacher in public secondary schools, there were state mandated guides to grade level content to be sure, but the reality was that the specifics of covering the subject matter left virtually all of the selection of materials to the individual instructor, and I thrived in that responsibility. Long hours, day after day, and thoughts in the mind almost constantly all through the school year. It really never stopped; always thinking, always planning, always focused on prepping, researching, honing, polishing, revising.

For more than a decade and a half, I was free to choose both the depth and the scope of class content and to determine the division of various topics presented over the school year in each subject and grade level. Fortunately I was skilled in determining student achievement in both the individual student and across the averaged composite of several classes, and was successful in providing guidance and instruction which resulted in high student achievement. I relished the challenge. I loved the detail and the intricate blending of ideas into a good lesson. I really put my all into it, day after day, week in and week out. Overall, my kids were well taught and able to demonstrate mastery of the class subject, but it took a lot of effort on my part.

Here, finally, is my point. I always felt strange after the completion of a school term. I missed the disciplined hours of preparation and planning. I missed the pressure and the rigid routine that was both joy and refuge. And when the task was completed for the term, I needed something to fill the void. I actually felt a bit light-headed for a few days after school was out. The somewhat trite explanation of "a weight being lifted" is quite accurate. Actually, it was the laying down a burden that I did not realize was so heavy. The effect was a bit disorienting for a couple of days. It helped to be living in Alaska where there was always much to do in the summer season.

It's back! I haven't experienced that feeling for years, maybe since 1987, when I retired. But this week it has returned. Wednesday afternoon I finished a major study of many weeks with the seniors at church. That evening I concluded an intense study which had also taken many weeks with the evening LIFE group at home. Yesterday something kept nagging at me; there was surely something I should be doing and wasn't, something I was overlooking, and I was going to wake up way behind the eight-ball. And today while helping out at the annual church garage sale I kept experiencing that same ol' feeling like I was somehow off-task. I felt like a balloon and someone had cut my string. It's strange to be so disconnected and to have the urge to be doing something urgent and not know what, AND to simultaneously know intellectually the job is over. Weird. Like my heart still wants to keep at it, but can't.

This too will pass in a few days. A little time and it will go away. A little debriefing with a few of the folk in each of those classes, and I can move on. But for right now, when I would usually be studying, I feel like I'm being negligent about something. It's just the rebound, and it will be over soon, but meanwhile I'm sure I left something undone or unfinished. I looked around, but I can't find it, and I can't figure it out.

Anyone else ever get this sensation?