casino not my thing

Last Sunday hubby and I made a quick trip to Lincoln City and back, just an 8 hour 'get outta Dodge' time. We sat on the beach (me bundled in a beach towel) for awhile, watching the stunt kite flyers move their kites over our heads, drinking organic lemonade and eating beef jerky and those delicious Kettle Salt & Black Pepper chips. (We'd stopped at Bi-Mart for snacks and Goodwill on our way into town, searching for things for my art classes and hubby looking for the odd reel-to-reel tape recorder)

It was lovely to sit on the sand and just relax.

We ended the day with a wonderful dinner at Mo's. The place was packed and the service was fast and the food was what you remember it being...chunky clam chowder, crispy fries, yummy grilled fish tacos. No room for the famous peanut butter pie. We sent our two long distance daughters a photo text of me with a bit of the ceiling showing. They both returned the text within 20 seconds of each other, both said the same thing: "Mo's!"
But, before dinner we went to the casino.
When we'd had our fill of breeze, sun, fresh air full of negative ions we headed over to the local Casino to look into Huey Lewis & The News concert tickets. We thought the tix were $25 each and by buying them at the door we could save a ticket fee, maybe. Anyway our first mutual thought as we approached the front doors was 'Great Wolf Lodge' (another place I disliked instantly upon sight, not that I'm prejudgmental or anything). As we opened the doors the stale smell of smoke hit our nostrils. Not overwhelming, but lingering, like it had buried itself in the walls and floors. We couldn't actually see anyone smoking at first, but evidence of it was there, to be sure. A crowd had gathered around a black booth with money flying around inside. Eventually we made out that a man was inside the box trying to catch the flying bills and push them out of a slot into a box being held by a big, swarthy, Sicilian-looking man, (maybe he was a native American descended from the Italian explorers 400 years ago, but this is an Indian establishment, so I thought you had to 'qualify' for employment by being of the tribe...but I digress.... He would've made a good sculpture model for Michelangelo, if M. liked bigger guys).  We watched the flying money trap until the timer ran out and the moneyed man had to get out and count his take, didn't look like that much money, but who knows. It was entertaining for a minute or two.

Huey Lewis concert tickets cost $35-55, as we could see in the lighted marquee. Hmmm. Looking less likely that I'd want to hear him play in this dreary yet blinged out place.

We found the concert room and checked it out. Somnolent people were playing bingo. Didn't look like fun to me. The room was a dreary turquoise color, with sort of boxed terraces that held tables and chairs. Not fancy tables and chairs, but the kind you see at your local bowling alley. I was becoming less and less enthused about the prospects of paying money to sit in a stale smelling room.

Wandering through the slot machines I noticed bored and stupefied people playing the slots. Some wore lanyards with cards attached...like an ID card, only the card was stuck to the slot machine. Hmm. Must be the new way to spend money. The lights, the bells, the clanky music, the bright colors of the slot machines brought to mind the Fisher Price toys we give toddlers. Only toddlers look much more engaged with their toys than the adults looked with their shiny money guzzling slot machines. I couldn't imagine wanting to put my hard earned money into any machine, just for the fun of seeing a rare win. The only way I'd put money into a slot is if you handed it to me as I came in the front door and told me the ONLY way I could spend it was in the machines. I'm pretty sure the casino could afford to do that and come out ahead, they just haven't thought of it yet.

Late July Harvest 2010

 

The lovely Yukon Gold potatoes and multicolored carrots, fresh from the soil. 

                         Blue Lake Beans and those amazing colored carrots look happy in the trug from Herstmonceux, East Sussex, England.

my commute

municipal elevator in Oregon City

the historic bridge and Willamette Falls

one of the crests along the highway

same train, further north

waiting for the train

I am the luckiest person! I have the best commute to a career I love. My drive takes 12 minutes and has only four stoplights, a 6 mile stretch along the scenic Willamette River, a crossing on a beautiful, historic bridge, a tunnel, a view of a municipal elevator and Willamette Falls. I pass the bluff where John McLoughlin had a home (now moved to a different location) when he was the Chief Factor for the Hudson's Bay Company (back when Oregon Territory was basically British territory). Most days when I drive I listen to music (either KINK radio or a CD...lately the Wailing Jennys) and the miles just fly by.
I do have to drive defensively as this stretch of highway has its share of crazy accidents, lane narrowings, curves, highs and lows, steep drop offs, boulders that regularly crash onto the highway and occasional mudslides! Here are some photos I took on Friday (yesterday) as I drove in at 7:10am.
The only thing that could top this would be the guts and ability to ride my bike along this route (not recommended...way too dangerous for cyclists)

approaching the railroad tunnel

little red bike cafe

Jasper and I had never eaten breakfast at the Little Red Bike Cafe on NE Lombard until today. It was highly touted and was going to be closing in mid-June, which was fast approaching. Thus we came with high expectations and were not disappointed in the tasty fresh selections we ordered:

Huevos Rancheros, Black bean and Chorizo on ciabatta, the Alley Cat and the Messenger....in a word....YUMMMMMMMM!

We wanted to check out this little 'diner that could' because they are not for long at this current location; they have lost their lease for some unexplained reason, and have not found a new location to keep going.(latest rumors indicate it will reopen as a 'cart' somewhere)

The place was nonstop full of people, there were no seats to be found, so we ordered our food and found a '2-top' table to sit at. David and I held that down until the table next to us opened up. Dave waited in the van with sleeping Laila while our breakfast was prepared.

We each had a plate of food in front of us, but shared big bites with each other. Each plate was garnished with fresh fruit such as pineapple, raspberry, ruby grapefruit, blackberry, strawberry and orange. The Huevos also came with a few pieces of dried papaya dusted with some kind of spice.

Florida in February

We flew to Florida for Dave's brother's wedding in February. I've never been to Florida before, hard to believe, I know! The wedding took place on Little Palm Island, near Little Torch Key. It is the location where the PT-109 film was made in the 1960's about John F. Kennedy.

Below are Klanci and Evan in the distance, and Amanda and Noel in the foreground. Noel and Evan are our nephews who live in Ohio and New York, respectively. Noel has invented a device called "firestop", an affordable fire extinguisher that would be most beneficial in densely populated areas vulnerable to fires. Pretty cool, huh?

Thursday Post March 26, 2009

Today was cold, rainy and windy. We ate breakfast at our hotel at Patch Barrack, the Swabian Hotel, and made it out the door at 9:50am. Our destination was the Markt (open market, mostly veggies and fruits) in Ludwigsburg. We found a place to park and got pretty wet in the 2 block walk to the market. Because of the drastic weather we found a lovely coffee shop to have coffee and pastries! I also bought a big plaid umbrella at the shop nearby. We only put 30 minutes on the parking loschein, so scurried back to the car, with new instructions from the tourist office about where to park in order to visit the Ludwigsburg Schloss. Turns out it was a parking structure in the next street over.
The next couple of hours were spent in the gardens of the Ludwigsburg Schloss, particularly the Fairy Tale Gardens. The kids rode an antique carousel (brrrr...)
The fairy tales were illustrated in life-size little houses.

We drove to Pattonville, and found (I think) my old high school. A newish building had been built in front of it, so it was a bit hard to tell that's what it was.

Then we drove to the Bahnhof in Vaihingen, thinking we would take the train to Stuttgart town center later in the afternoon, but the kids were conked out in the car, snoozing away. We got Taco Bell lunch on base and ate it in the car parked in front of the hotel. We napped and rested until Roland came in from work, then went out to eat at a lovely Schwabish restaurant in the neighborhood. Delicious food!

the tree in bloom

doodles on the voter's pamphlet

these are the doodles I drew while skyping with my grandkids and daughter the other day!

I finally am convinced it is spring and not still winter

the garden is growing!

today was lovely and sunny and warm!

I took my 4th period students out for a lap around the track to clear our heads and enjoy the amazing weather!

at lunch time today the vocal jazz ensemble set up outside the performing arts building and gave us an al fresco brown bag concert...it was wonderful to listen to live music and eat lunch in the sun....a few big yellow busses rolled through the drive and momentarily blocked our view but we didn't mind.

my brother's humorous history of our lives

Photo on right: Hochdorf am Neckar, Germany, where we lived during 1968-69.


Date: Wed, 21 Apr 2010

OK. I didn't know whether you wanted to get together so I could induct you into the secret society of Wilson's and thus bestow my knowledge upon you. Perhaps it’s the way you worded the request, did you want to get together or did you want us to email you our story?? Here's some of my story. Let me know if you want to get together.


Born in Albuquerque, NM in 1955. Moved to Oregon when Dad started teaching at Eastern Oregon College (now Eastern Oregon University?) fall of 1956. We began going to Indiana that summer as Dad started his doctorate program at Indiana University. Because of this I didn't spend a summer in Oregon for the first ten years I lived here. Plus we essentially moved twice a year. Often to the same house, or in Indiana, the same student housing (which were surplus Army barracks that had been moved to make a student housing complex, very similar to the old Amazon student housing here).


By the time I was ten or eleven I got to spend my summers in heaven, I mean Oregon. How cool was that? I had no idea how nice it was here. In Indiana it was hot and muggy. There were little bugs in the grass called chiggers that bit you all over if you laid in one place for too long. Also there was heat lighting at night which meant it might shower and cool down, or just stay hot, too hot to fall asleep. So we tossed and turned in bed. And sweated some more. Dad bought a fan that installed in the window and we'd open a window on the opposite end of the apartment and suck cooler air through so that it would cool the place down. A bit.



In Oregon I loved playing baseball in the spring and summer. We had a local organization Eugene Boys Athletic Association (EBAA) which became Kidsports when they discovered that girls liked sports too. Third and Fourth grade boys played Pee Wee League and Fifth and Sixth graders were in Cubs. So if you were a Third grader you played in the outfield and sat on the bench because the Fourth grade boys were faster and better and we sucked at throwing and catching and batting (and most things baseball). But when we were Fourth graders look out, cause we rocked! Now we were playing infield, showing those Third graders how to play the game. Oh, and then we were in Fifth grade so we were back in the outfield, or on the bench, cause the Sixth graders were so much better........



Well between Oregon and Indiana is a lot of country. And we drove. Not much faster than 55 mph. Once or twice in a Ford (that I don't remember) and then in a Borgward (yes, it really was a car, made in Germany, a little four banger station wagon). Kinda like one of the old Peugots you might see around driven by a UofO grad that forgot to get a job in a different town, so they're still here. You get the picture. But I digress. Cause I graduated and didn't leave. But that's why I'm writing you this so you understand you're favorite Uncle and don't think of him as a pathetic loser that forgot to grow up and leave town after he graduated from college. Ok, where was I?



Between Oregon and Indiana. We drove Oregon to New Mexico to Indiana or Indiana, New Mexico, Oregon on one of the legs of the trip each summer. That meant blazing hot deserts of Mojave and Arizona without air conditioning. But we'd visit Grandparents, Aunts and Uncles and Cousins on both sides of the family. Cause that's where Mom and Dad met, fell in love, married and moved away. Way out West. Where we are now. Funny though, in the first twenty years we lived in Oregon my Grandma Rita (Dad's mother) visited once and my Uncle Tom (Mom's brother, not a reference to someone in a non-pc way) visited once. Makes you wonder whether they really liked us. The world was a bigger place then and Oregon seemed really far away to people who lived in Albuquerque so they didn't come visit much. Thus visiting Albuquerque was always a favorite stop because we were treated like Kings! Or maybe Lewis and Clark. We had ventured into the unknown, and returned! You get the idea.



The rest of the drive was through states like Kansas, Iowa, Nebraska. Big states where you could drive all day and barely leave them. Especially at 55. Or Colorado where we drove through the Rockies and wondered whether the car was going to over heat. Or Diane was gonna puke. Cause one way or the other, about the third day, one of us got car sick. Then we learned the survival skill of puking out the window cause on a hot summer day puke in the car was not cool. It stunk. It was usually a five day drive between Oregon and Indiana and those drives are etched in my mind. There weren't a lot of freeways, mostly two lane highways. Albuquerque was on Route 66 so I can now sing the song know I've been through "...Gallup, New Mexico. Flagstaff, Arizona, Don't forget Winonna, Kingman, Barstow, San Bernadino. Wait, we headed north around Barstow so we never made it to San Bernadino! We drove to Sacramento to Redding and north to Oregon on that narrow, twisty highway that you can still see some of as you zoom along the freeway over the pass into Ashland.



I could go on but after making that trip twice a year, bookending the summer as it were, Dad decided to direct a study abroad program called the German Music Center. With about thirty college students. Four or five of which were hot coeds. At least to a twelve year old. But I was young and didn't know what I was doing so I didn't get them in any trouble. I did go to a German school. Learned a little German. Sat in class and read a lot. Participated in English (duh), music, math, PE, and read through the rest. There was yogurt in the little cups like we know now but didn't eat in the US.



We spent the first month traveling on a bus through France, Switzerland, Austria, into Hungary. Back through Austria into southern Germany to Munich and the Oktoberfest where I had my first liter of beer. Hic. It made me sleepy and happy. Then north to Stuttgart where we would spend the second year and finally north again to Oldenburg. We lived in a little village out of town called Bad Zwischenahn. It was on a lake, it was cold, there was snow on the ground most of the winter. And I read a lot. And listened to records. Simon and Garfunkle, the Beatles. Mostly the Beatles.



In the spring we made a trip to Berlin and Hannover. Berlin was a divided city, the Russians controlled the eastern half and we had to drive through East Germany to get there. Communism looked bleak to me. Hungary was gray compared to the rest of Europe. The people were sullen in the eastern bloc countries and contrasted to the vibrancy on western Europe.



That summer we drove through England to Scotland, then to Wales and across a ferry to Ireland, then back to London. Three weeks in all. I was in heaven because everyone spoke English. I couldn't always understand them but if I listened carefully I could. Eighth grade I went to a school for US Army dependents near Stuttgart. The kids were "army brats" and knew each other from living on bases in different parts of the world. Some of the kids mothers were German and their dad's were serving in Vietnam so they were living close to their mom's families. That experience and visiting Dachua twice made me a pacifist. War is a waste of people's lives and material resources. And it messes up the survivors heads so then we all need to heal for twenty years or another generation.





Ok, I'm tired. I write more later if you like. But this is why I've stayed in Oregon. I love to travel and I love to come home. I love my friends and family here. I've been fortunate enough to have seen a lot of this county and other parts of the world. And this is a really good place. Compared to a lot of places I've seen.



Chapter II might be the tale of two crazy wives!



Good night.

my first attempt at photoshop

I sat in on a web design class for a few days last fall, in the attempt to learn some photoshop basics.
Here is something I created using an old scanned photo of Kenzie at Hyde Park in London, in spring of 1992.
It is my goal to find a photoshop class this year and learn more. It seems like alot of fun!

watercolors from faraway

google earth view of Schneckenhausen

 another view of the hills of Schneckenhausen from another window of the house

and another view of the first view...the little brown hut is called a Hohesitz (high seat) for watching grazing flocks

Spring has arrived

Our lawn is growing a forest of Maple trees....we had beaucoup de flying seeds this past fall and many many many have taken root in the lawn! What would this look like in 50 years if allowed to grow?

 a recent painting, done at a workshop with William Park last week!

whitman and walla walla

On our way to Walla Walla yesterday we passed the Whitman Mission. I learned about Marcus and Narcissa Whitman in grade school, in 4th grade, when Oregon students learn Oregon history. The location of the mission was rather obscured in my memory, so it was with surprise and delight that I suggested (strongly) that we MUST stop and check it out.

The story of the Whitmans and the Spaldings is a compelling tragedy, and a turning point in US history. Marcus and Narcissa traveled with the Spaldings west, on a mission from the Presbyterian church, with the hope to bring the native Americans to the knowledge of and belief in Jesus. Narcissa Whitman and Eliza Spalding were the first white women to travel to the west, to Old Oregon. The land was yet to be called The Oregon Territory. The Spaldings set up a mission 127 miles to the east, among the Nez Perce nation.

Bickering, hardship, the accidental drowning of their only daughter, 27 month old Alice Clarissa and a measles outbreak followed in the next 7 years. The Cayuse Indians, a nomadic tribe in the area, blamed Marcus (also a physician) for the deaths of half their tribe (200 out of 400) due to the measles that the pioneer travelers brought with them. His medicine was not as effective on the natives, who had no natural immunities, as it was on the settlers moving west. Marcus knew well that the 'medicine man' could be killed if he could not heal. One day two Cayuse came to see him, and while one distracted him with a question about medicine, another used a tomahawk to strike him from behind. Narcissa dragged him into the parlor, where he died, and where she was shot. In all, eleven people died in the attack, the survivors were taken captive by the Cayuse, but were ransomed within a month by Peter Skeen Ogden . It took five years for the murderers to be brought to justice (they were hiding in the Bitteroot Mountains) and hung in Oregon City.

The great distances traveled in that time amazed us. We had just driven 4 hours from Oregon City, how long would that journey have taken on horseback or boat (on the Columbia River) in 1847?

The Whitmans had adopted 7 children, ranging from 3 months old to 12 years old, five years before the massacre. The Sager children's parents died along the Oregon Trail. The two oldest Sager boys were killed in the massacre, the younger five were taken by the Cayuse, and released. A nearby middle school honors John Sager with his name. Photographs of the girls (as grown women) are on display at the interpretive center.

The Oregon Trail (one of them) is replicated here where it traveled through the Whitman Mission. This is a 1840's replica of a wagon used for the more mountainous route. It is smaller than the Conestoga Wagon. It looked barely big enough to hold supplies for the journey, much less for settling new territory. Fort Vancouver was the place where Narcissa and Eliza shopped for china and other supplies.

Whitman College, Walla Walla, Washington

We explored a bit of Walla Walla after the sobering, poignant time at the Whitman Mission.

Dave found a music store and played all of the acoustic guitars (well, most of them). The store owner told him a story about a familiar looking English man coming in recently, asking to play guitars. Eventually his curiosity overcame his politeness and he asked the Englishman 'you're not from around here, are you?'....it was Eric Idle (a Python). His daughter was/is a student at Whitman.

We ate a fresh, delicious lunch at Graze, just off the main street in town.

After lunch we drove south to Milton-Freewater, Oregon, just to see what we could see. Not a whole lot!

We are enjoying the big sky, the 360 degree vistas, the sun, the brightness, and even the brisk wind here in Kennewick, where we are staying. We are downwind from the Hanford Nuclear site, something we try to not think about. The Kennewick Man was discovered on the banks of the Columbia River in 1996, on US Army Corps land. The native tribes believe the  man to be theirs and want to give him a proper burial. Others believe the man is closest in ancestry to the Ainu (of Japan), at any rate, he is believed to be 8,000 years old.

Spring Break 2010

we went to NW 23rd ave in pdx, the street is torn up while construction is taking place. it will be a one way street when all is done.

the polish pottery house has these lovely angels

the narcissis are in bloom in front of our house!the Washington side of the Columbia River Gorge...we drove to Kennewick on Thursday, just to get a change of scene!

nice to get outta dodge!

new gadget

I got an Acer Aspire notebook today, and am using it to type this blog entry in the dark. I plan to take this little gizmo to Italy and put in the day's adventures with a few photos. Typing is a bit of a challenge, but the more I type, the better I get at finding the correct keys.

bubble wrap

I pop bubble wrap at 2.73 bubbles per second! I popped 196 bubbles in 1 minute and 11.7 seconds at www.Virtual-Bubblewrap.com! Can you beat my score?

Altered Book

Front Cover

Back Cover

                    

Here are the front and back covers of an altered book that I started in 2003. I was student teaching in Art at Canby HS and saw students making this project under the excellent instruction of Lori Shippy. I have added to this project over the ensuing years and watched it evolve into a sort of passport for life's journey.

 inside left page

inside right page

The inside pages are cut away with an Xacto knife, then bound (and glued) together by drilling holes through the corner edges, then stitched using needle and thread. Acrylic paint, photos, stamps, gold leaf, objects are added. Quite a little treasure, eh?

The inside pages of my book show photos I took in Estonia in 1999, when I had the privilege of singing in the Laulupidu festival. Check out 'The Singing Revolution' film for the history of how the courageous Estonian people kept their culture alive through songs (many of the songs I learned are veiled political protest songs of homeland, dignity, honor, because singing the National Anthem was forbidden) and their song festivals during the 50 years of Russian occupation.