Lenten Season 2017

Rhododendron on Passover

THE WINTER has taken a long time to leave us this year. And while I haven't posted in almost five weeks, I've been busy and just have neglected my blog-dom.

Frieda (in Jerry's lap)

So, working backwards, I have been the go-between in getting a rescue dog into a new home... not mine.

I was surfing on FaceBook, just randomly reading posts of friends of mine and saw a chocolate Labrador which was a trigger for me, having had two of those precious creatures.

The woman offering the dog was not a personal friend, but the friend of a friend. She was looking to re-home a mature, fixed, female lab and I immediately thought of a couple I knew whose dog had recently died.

I contacted the husband, but he said they were not interested at this time, however they knew someone who was. It turned out the couple who did want the dog were connected to me by my former church affiliation as well as through my art group. I contacted the FB lady, gave her the name and number of the folks, they connected and two days later the dog was in her new home.

At the next art group meeting, the new owner came up to me in tears of gratitude, telling me how wonderful this dog was and how happy they were that I helped to make it possible. I asked if I could meet the new member of the family and was invited over. They have named her Frieda, after Frieda Kahlo, (one of my favorite artists) and fortunately her personality is much calmer than her namesake.

Pat and Jerry love her, and she loves lying on the coach snuggled up to Jerry or in his lap. I whispered to Freida as I was leaving, "Remember who is feeding you." (Pat)

Grey Owl landing on branch (may end up being part of a bedtime story
book) or a series of nighttime paintings... not sure.

My contribution to the "Whale of an Art Show" in Port Angeles, WA.
It is quite large (for me) as an 18 by 24-inch piece and it is titled
"Playdate in the NW".

And I've continued to paint, with one painting going in the "Whale of an Art Show" at the Heatherton Galley in Port Angeles and some others just for my own entertainment. The show continues for the month of April and tomorrow, the 14th, is the Artists' Reception. I'll be interested to see who shows up for it.

Screenshot of the Olympic National Park's webcam at the
top of Hurricane Ridge... still a lot of snow up there!

Passover began and I have a greater interest in understanding the Jewish traditions since I began studying the Hebrew letters of the alphabet this past year. פֶּסַח‎ The event is for the "Jewish people who celebrate Passover as a commemoration of their liberation by God from slavery in Egypt and their freedom as a nation under the leadership of Moses." (according to Wikipedia... but I want to clarify that it was liberation from slavery and thus their freedom as a nation, a nation that was led by Moses. Not that they were freed from the leadership of Moses, which the quoted portion suggests.)

This painting of a sunset over a lake in Lake City, FL, was initiated by a
photograph sent to me by Mr. Willie Harris. I decided to add him into the
scene and he is now the proud owner of the original artwork. He said he will
get it framed and I will hang in his living room... great!!

So, dear readers, you can see that I've been busy and I hope you are able to resurrect yourselves from your winters wherever you are and have a delightful spring season!!

Hurricane Ridge Trip

Standing on the porch at the lodge at Hurricane Ridge in the
Olympic National Park, Port Angeles, WA.

I think I smell snow in that leaden sky.

   The last trip to Hurricane Ridge was on Beloved's Harley under sunny skies and of course the road up there was dry and clear.

Mt.Olympus is off to the right, past the snow-made polar bear.

   Today it was snow-covered and, in at least two places, had tree debris from trees dislodged with by snow or wind.
 
   And this time it required chains on tires, so I wasn't about to put myself through that experience again. (I think the last time was from my house in East Fork heading toward Ketchum in Idaho.)

Looking eastward, sort of toward Seattle, WA.

 
   So I rode up with a shuttle service and a trip that should have taken about an hour was almost twice that with a faulty chain install on a rear tire that went "whap-whap-whap" for 18 miles up and 18 miles back.

    It was impressive at the top, though.
   Over a week of steady snow and wind with periodic mild warmings had created some very long icicles and snow statues from trees that were totally covered.

   I stepped off a path for cross-country skiers and sunk down to my waist... and the snow was really blue even a short distance down.

I love this color blue under these circumstances. I think it
might be less appealing if it was much deeper and I was in it.

   The most fun was enjoying the smell of snow, the crunch under my feet, and my body was remembering the guarded expectation of putting on skis, heading off for a powdery run, the wonderful exhilaration of feeling the weight shift back and forth while whooshing downhill.

The lodge to the left has an overlook spot below,
but it is covered in snow up to about six feet.

   When my kids try to encourage me to take up skiing again I explain that it's not a sport for seniors who have stopped it for a decade, and besides, it's significantly more expensive to rent all that gear now that it was 10 years ago... and just for a one-weekend experience?

   I have skied in N.H., Vermont (Suicide Six, especially), Massachusetts, Idaho, Calif., Canada and Austria. I have skied with some of the most interesting folks when I worked at Sun Valley and that includes volunteering with the Ski Patrol.

   Getting older should mean getting wiser, too.

   And so when I had my last downhill ski trip with the Scottsdale Sail and Ski Club, I decided it was time to enjoy it to the fullest and then sell my equipment.

   The two close calls I had with other skiers who were skiing out of control only confirmed it was time I did just that.

"Sandy Banks" in a snow bank...

Halfway down the ridge, after the tunnels, looking down on
Sequim, WA and Puget Sound.

   I can still cross-country ski or snowshoe, and perhaps I will do more of that this winter.

Unknown couple heading off on the Cross Country trail.

There is still a lot I can do to enjoy the times I go out into wintry weather, and I hope, dear readers, you have enjoyed this trip into a wintry wonder just a short distance from Sequim.

Dry heat but the bees abound

This peony has a lovely scent, but I don't know its name.

The bees are very happy I planted these... I am, too.

The lovely spring flowers went quickly by without much coverage by me... it was dry, still is, and the summer blooms are not going to last long either. Some places on the peninsula are now under water restrictions... and we aren't even into July yet.

My raspberry plants are going to be prolific as long as I can have water for them. The bees are zooming around my garden, into every bud they can find, emerging with yellow pollen all over themselves.

There are plenty of birds, too, so even though it's an anomalous year, they don't seem to mind.

The Olympics, still snow-covered, but for how long? The
glacier to the right is melting at a crazy speed. Still, I don't
believe it is just human-caused global warming.

Last weekend I had my first ride with SF on his motorcycle. It's a huge Harley-Davidson cruiser and very, very comfortable. I especially loved going through the tunnels up to Hurricane Ridge and listening to him rev the engine so the sound reverberated around the concrete... silly, I know.

Looking southeast from Hurricane Ridge (Port Angeles) WA.

The deer were bold, wandering about in various groups, and I wondered idly where they find water since there is no snow left, and I didn't see any streams. While it is really not my problem directly, I am doing my part to conserve water at home.

It was pretty warm and clear and we could see all the way to Victoria and beyond. That was the weekend that the Race to Alaska (R2AK) (a 750-mile, no power allowed, sail or rowing race) was starting and I was tempted to catch the ferry over on Sunday to watch them start, but my garden really, really needed some attention.

The last time I was on a motorcycle was my own, riding in Florida. It was pretty relaxing to be a passenger, and I trust SF completely; he's a very safe driver all the time.

People from all over the world seemed to be at the top... we saw license plates from Wyoming, California, Canada and even as far east as Michigan. There were Orientals, Sikhs, light-skins and dark skins and plenty of other motorcycle riders. I felt a wave of happiness as everyone was peacefully enjoying the afternoon along with us. I want it to be this way always... does it get any better than this?

The hazy outline of land is British Columbia, only 45 or so miles across
the San Juan de Fuca Strait/Puget Sound, Washington.

Moon over the Mountains

Long ago, when television was in its infancy in the 50's, there was a woman who used to close out her program "The Kate Smith Hour" on NBC with this song, "When the moon comes over the mountain..."

Some of you who were in the U.S. in those days and watched that hour of entertainment (before Ed Sullivan, folks), may also remember a backdrop of a moon rising over mountains that looked quite like these...

From Hurricane Ridge near Port Angeles, WA

The moon looks very close, but it's still miles away.

The drive up to Hurricane Ridge is long (about half an hour) and on windy roads that were reminiscent to me of the roads in Colombia, including the lack of guard rails and sharp drop offs along the 17-mile route. 

After my trip up there and telling my boss about seeing the moon from that elevation, he advised me to not go up there again after dark because of the panhandlers who are stalking individuals for funds.

How frustrating to have such a place of beauty become so undesirable. It is surprising to me, as a solo traveler in a country (Colombia) which was still overcoming a reputation for being dangerous while I was there, and where I was never accosted or threatened, to return home to a place that I perceived as 'safe,' only to discover it's darker side.

This young deer was totally unafraid of me, standing about
six feet away. I wasn't afraid of her, either.

I have an objective to travel back to France next summer, and if the world keeps becoming so scary, I may have to hire a bodyguard to go with me.

The last rays of the sun convey the sense of heat that we're
experiencing here in the NW... hot, hot, hot.