Showing posts with label Sunday Post. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sunday Post. Show all posts

Sunday, September 8, 2013

The Sunday Post: September 8, 2013

I've written before about the family reunion we attend every year; that event was today.

As we got within an hour or so of our destination, the freeway was closed. Up ahead was a large cloud of smoke - it appeared that some fool had thrown a cigarette butt out of the window and started a large brush fire. This is in a very arid area, which means brush fires are easy to start - if you're foolish like that.

So, we ended up being detoured off of the freeway and onto the road that ran along the Yakima River, called Canyon Road but referred to by the family as "the old river road." This is a slow, winding road with one lane in each direction - and we were behind large semi tractor-trailer rigs who had also been detoured off the freeway. Since we were going to be slower anyway, we put the top down on the car and made the most of it.

Many people, when they think of Washington State, think of Seattle and our famous rain, not realizing that the state is bisected by the Cascade Mountains and has (at least!) two very distinct climates. Just for fun, here are a few photos I took while leaning out the car window (taken with an iPhone, so not the best quality, but fun nonetheless). As you can see, this is strictly desert canyon. It's fun to have such differences in climate and geography relatively close.

Hope everyone had a good weekend!

As always, photos will embiggen upon clicking...

A lot of river rafting goes on in this section

The railroad running through the canyon somehow reminds me of the Old West

The cliffs are rather impressive - made of basalt, Joe tells me

Sunday, June 10, 2012

Found in the Wild

Went out for ice cream, and came home with a pen

There's a great little ice creamery about 15 minutes away from our home. It being a sunny Sunday afternoon, we decided to run out to Snoqualmie Ice Cream and grab a dish of ice cream as a treat.

Snoqualmie Ice Cream is in a fairly rural area, at a crossroads known as Maltby. Just down the street, tucked behind some other buildings, is an old antique shop we've never managed to get to before - it's not open all that often.

Well, it was open today, so in we went. And just inside the door, in one of the cases, was almost an entire shelf full of fountain pens.

Nothing terribly fancy, but a pretty wide assortment - three or four Esterbrooks, a couple of Sheaffers, two or three Eversharps -  you get the idea. I got pretty excited when I saw a Parker True Blue junior for $15, but it was in pretty bad shape and had a Sheaffer student nib in it, so I passed.

I did come home with this - a Carter. Obviously used, with the de rigeur dried blue ink in it, it has a 14k nib and is in good shape with only minimal brassing. The barrel suffers a bit from the discoloring so common in certain colors of that time (about 1930). It was marked at $20, but it came home for $18 plus tax. (I paid cash, and had chatted up the owner about how it was going to a good home, I'd have it resacked and use it; I think it influenced his pricing.)

I don't think it's a sumgai find by any means, but it's a great memento of a lovely Sunday afternoon.



Oh - ice cream? I had toasted coconut, and salted caramel. Yum!

Sunday, February 26, 2012

The Sunday Post: February 26, 2012

For Christians, now is the time of Lent: a penitential observance leading up to Easter. For many of us, that means giving up something, some little vice or luxury: sweets, alcoholic beverages, TV viewing.

I'm taking a different approach. Instead of giving up something, I'm trying to gain something.

It's so very easy to get into a rut. I get up each morning, I go through the same routine; I go to work, taking the same route each day. Work is (barely) controlled chaos, herding cats all day, trying to keep all the balls in the air - but I'm pretty good at it, and have a certain comfort level with what I do for a living. I come home, and have the same routines each night.

Somehow it seems even more rut-like in winter, when much of what seems available to do is indoors. By about this time in the season I'm feeling rather boxed in.

My goal this Lent is to gain a clearer view. To see what is around me. Turn off the auto-pilot and truly observe and interact with my life.

Some of this is simple stuff. Always make sure that I give the person I'm speaking with the courtesy of my full attention, and be an active listener to them. I know better than to glance at my email or fiddle with my phone, but still I do it.

And some of it is not so simple. Sharpen my focus. Truly see and interact with my world, not treat it as background noise to be tuned out.

Have you ever had the experience of coming home after being gone for a period of time, say for an extended vacation or business trip, and when you walk in the house everything looks almost new and strange? You see details that normally remain oblivious to you. (Oh - so that's what my living room looks like!)

It's that "aha!" experience that I hope to regain.

Socrates famously commented that the unexamined life is not worth living. My goal this Lent is to begin examining again. Focus on living instead of existing.

This is my Lenten goal: to work toward being a more engaged person in the world. Time will tell how successful I am. I think it's harder than giving up chocolate.

Well, maybe.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

The Sunday Post: February 5, 2012

What constitutes success?

In my business life, I am fairly well-versed in working on projects, knowing the goal and the steps to get there, the timeline I am allotted, and milestone checkpoints along the way.

The growth of this blog has been more organic. I simply began one day. And as I've gone along, I have observed things I like and don't like about other blogs I see, and made a few tweaks along the way. One early tweak was working to improve the image quality. It's so true that pictures convey more than words can in some cases.

So when can I call this blog a success?

It's a puzzling question to me. I really have no defined goal, other than launching my thoughts and ideas out into the world to see if I connect with someone else. There are enough subscribers that I think I'm not just talking to those of my family and friends gracious enough to listen to my ramblings. My page hit count per day has increased steadily during the year or so I've been doing this. Some other bloggers, all of whom I respect, have listed me in blogrolls; a few things I've written have been featured by others.

I think the difference here is that it's not about the destination - it's about the journey. In writing the blog, I have learned things myself, researching where my knowledge is short to try to provide a fuller picture for you. I am pleased to see that what I have done is found interesting by others.

And I've made some friends along the way - people I would never have met in any other circumstance.

Thanks for coming along on the trip with me.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

The Sunday Post: January 15, 2012

Having two grandchildren, and seeing friends become grandparents recently, has led me to reflect a bit on my life, and life in general.

My mother had a chronic illness throughout most of her life, which led ultimately to her death when I was a teenager. The family rallied around her and my father to provide support, and part of that support was lending a hand in childcare. So, in a way, raising me was a group project.

My grandmother was instrumental in providing that care. A strong-willed woman, she was fierce in her love for me. She taught me a lot - probably as much as anyone else in the family project raising of me.

Now that I am a grandmother, a fact which sometimes is difficult to absorb, I find myself thinking back on some of the lessons she taught me. And I wonder whether I will have the talent to impart similar lessons to my grandchildren, and to be heard.

My granddaughter is three. My grandson is less than a year old. Statistically speaking, I am fairly certain of seeing them grow into nominal adulthood, but I rather doubt I'll see them into middle age.

This causes me fear. Not fear of dying, though I've no wish to leave anytime soon; fear that there are things I could do to help and to guide, and yet I won't be here to do it. I didn't have this same fear with the boys, I think partially because I was younger.

Life has its limits. And it's a fearsome thing, helping launch a human being into the world. Especially when you hear the clock ticking, albeit in the distance.


Your Author at...hmm....what age was this again?


Sunday, October 16, 2011

The Sunday Post, October 16, 2011

Marooned


Well, not really...but it is a bit of an explanation why it's been kinda quiet around here the last couple weeks.

Joe and I took a ten-day vacation to Maui. We stayed in a rather nice hotel, which charged us (among other things) $25 per day to park the rental car and for "high-speed" Internet access.

The throughput for their "high-speed" access topped out at 9.9kbs, by my calculations. Wow, my modem 20 years ago did better than that. Not to mention the connection dropped about every 90 seconds. Literally.

I quickly gave up on my idea of being a modern-day Hemingway, tapping away at my keyboard in tropical climes, enlightening the world with my musings...such as they are.

All I can say is this: if you get a chance to go to Maui, take it. We've done some traveling, though  not as extensively as some it's true. We have always enjoyed our vacations, but of all the places we've visited, Maui is the only one I'd go back to without a thought. Absolutely beautiful, the people are generally friendly, and it has a small-town feel to it. The microclimates are amazing, ranging widely over a relatively small area. I also learned a fair amount of history - which I didn't expect.

For pens, we took one six-pen case and were each allotted three slots. I took my Ivory Levenger True Writer, the Danitrio Moon Shadow, and a Laban Mentos with a broad nib reground to a stub by Oxonian (this pen hasn't yet been featured here...hmm). Joe took a Rotring 600, a Levenger Sea Glass (he said it suited the beach), and Levenger Kyoto. My kids gave me a lovely journal by Orange Press for my birthday a few weeks ago which was eminently suited for vacation journaling. Rather than worry about bottled ink in the luggage, I bought a sampler of cartridges from Levenger to take with us. I am fairly certain that Private Reserve makes Levenger's ink. I'll have more to say about the Levenger ink in the next couple of weeks; generally speaking it was unobtrusive, and unremarkable, in performance - which was just fine under the circumstances.

Joe comments that he didn't write nearly as much as he usually does because we were so busy doing things. By contrast, I felt I wrote more than usual, since I had so much more time than I generally do. By these statements I think one can tell who is retired in this household, and who is not. Hmm.

We got home late Thursday night, and ever since, I've heard Israel Kamakawiwoʻole's famous version of "Over the Rainbow" in my head, and I've spent an inordinate amount of time looking at ukuleles online and wishing I had the time to learn how to play one. I may yet buy one, at least to add to the collection of musical instruments laying around the house that I don't have time to play.

I'll leave you with a few snapshots of Maui. I opted not to take my big Nikon with me, only a Panasonic point-and-shoot; I now wish I'd decided differently, but these didn't turn out too badly.

Aloha from Seattle...


Sunday, August 21, 2011

The Sunday Post: August 21, 2011

An Introduction

It occurs to me I've been remiss in not introducing you to the third member of the household. And, depending on one's viewpoint, he may well be the most important member. (Just ask him.)



This is Gandalf. He is a quaker parrot, and came to us as a rescue in 2003. This photo was taken shortly after he came to live with us; as you can see, he is fond of bathing in the sink.

The story of his arrival is a bit fun. Well, the first part isn't - I had a lovebird for 14 years, who died of liver cancer in late 2002. After a month or two, we got in touch with a woman locally who takes in and rehomes birds that people don't want or can't keep, and offered to give her my bird's cage and some other supplies we had, since we no longer had a use for them; we figured she could give the cage to someone else that couldn't afford one.

She said she'd be delighted to take whatever we could give her, so we gathered up some things and went over to her place.

Sunday, August 14, 2011

The Sunday Post: August 14, 2011

Sometimes It's the Little Things

I'm sure all of us are aware of the upheaval the world seems to be in at the moment. In light of all the serious things going on, how can I maintain a simple little blog like this?

I am certainly not unmindful of the many troubles out there; I see this blog as a little bit of peacefulness. I just want to bring a little enjoyment and beauty to others.

And, speaking of enjoyment and beauty, Joe and I just got back from a few days away, and I thought I'd share a few pretty pictures with you. Hope you enjoy them! These were taken over the last few days in Langley, WA.





 Here is a link to an album with the individual photos.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

The Sunday Post: July 24, 2011

A Kodak Moment: Whose Memories are These?

Joe and I recently took a day trip  to a local town. We did the tourist thing - walk through the shops, stop for coffee and pie at a local restaurant, go digging through the antique stores.

In one of the stores, I came across a basket of old 35mm film canisters.



(as always, all photos are clickable)
I think I've mentioned before that at one time I did a fair amount of film photography. My grandmother was president of the local camera club, and bought me my first SLR at age nine. I did nearly all of the sports and "color" photography for my high school paper and yearbook during my last year of high school. I had thought of being a professional photographer, but a year of lugging two big, heavy Canon SLR cameras around with me everywhere cured me of that desire.

And then I got through college, went out into the working world, and put the cameras away pretty much completely. It's only with starting this blog that I've gotten back into it at all. Things have changed a lot since the last 35mm SLR I got, whose claim to fame was a built-in light meter! In some ways I'm having to learn all over again due to the many advancements that have been made.

The film canisters brought back memories for me; they were older than most of what I'd worked with, but still similar enough for nostalgia. I picked one up, and was surprised to see it had a roll of negatives in it.



Whose memories did I hold in my hand?

Sunday, July 10, 2011

The Sunday Post: July 10, 2011

Favorite Places to Write

In good weather, this is one of my favorite places to be.


entering from the west side of the house
We have a postage-stamp-size yard. That was actually on purpose; at the time we bought the house, we were both working long hours and wanted something that would be lower maintenance.

from the east side of the house (looking back up the critter highway, BTW...)

Because of its small size, the back yard is the ideal outdoor room in summer. It's to the south of the house, and largely shaded by a bank of cedar trees just behind us. It feels very private, and it's comfortable on hot days. (Not that we've had any of those yet this year.) On summer days, there's nowhere more pleasant I can think of to be than sitting on my back patio, with pens and journal and a cold drink.

The view from my favorite chair
I also happen to think it's pretty. (This despite the fact that I still haven't planted the pots for the summer...and it's July...oh well.)

Where's your favorite place to write?

Sunday, April 17, 2011

The Sunday Post: April 17, 2011

The Pen Whisperer

It's funny how people assume you're an expert in something because you have an interest in it.

I have never successfully repaired a fountain pen. My one attempt, many years ago, involved a vintage jade green Duofold which needed a new ink sac. I succeeded in getting the pen apart, put the new sac on with clear nail polish (don't do this, I beg you), and then couldn't get the section all the way back in the barrel no matter what I tried. I didn't want to force it too much due to its age and fragility. I finally sent it off to someone who knows what they're doing, who kindly did not mention my pathetic and ignorant attempts to "restore" the pen, undid what I had done, and sent it back in working order.

Now that I've confessed this travesty, it makes the next statement all the more ludicrous by contrast.

People at my office have begun referring to me as The Pen Whisperer.

The assumption seems to be that, because I like fountain pens, I can solve whatever woes someone may have with any given pen. Regardless of writing mechanism.

In an odd way, I have contributed to this myth.

My first contribution to it involved some old fountain pens that a coworker's mother had dug out of her desk at home. My coworker brought them in and asked me what I could tell him about them. Well, one had been an early Duofold; it was missing the blind cap and part of the pen cap and clip, and had been extensively chomped on to the point that we joked he'd used it when teething. Nothing to be done there. The next was a Sheaffer Skipper that appeared to be in working order but I didn't want to try inking someone else's pen as an experiment - those touchdown filling systems are complex and I couldn't be sure it would work.

The third was a 1980s Cross. The only thing wrong with the pen was that it had been put away with ink in it. I happen to have an ultrasonic jewelry cleaner, so I took the pen home and ran the nib and section through probably 15 cycles, then flushed it extensively with an ear syringe, using the classic water/Windex/dish soap mix and then clear water. I flushed out the cartridge that had dried ink in it, filled it with my standard test ink of Waterman Florida Blue, and wrote Pat's mom a nice note with the pen so she could see how it wrote.

I then took it back to work and gave it to him (having flushed it clean again). To my horror, he offered me money for the "repair." Which I did not accept; I don't take money from friends for favors, and in my mind I didn't really repair anything. But the story went around the office that I'd "restored" his mother's pen.

Then, a few days ago, someone I was in a meeting with was having trouble with a retractable ballpoint; another attendee said, "give it to the Pen Whisperer!" and I was handed the pen with an expectant look.

Well, the thing simply wasn't screwed tight together, and one or two bits had worked their way out of alignment. A little fiddling, a little tightening; click-click! "There you go, all better now."

Look, magic!

Um, no.

Heaven help me if someone ever hands me a pen seriously in need of repair; my cover will be completely blown. In the meanwhile, however, I am enjoying the Pen Whisperer rep, however undeserved.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

The Sunday Post: March 6, 2011

49 Bottles of Ink in the drawer,
49 bottles of ink
If one of the bottles should happen to fall...

I've had this little variant of the classic 99 Bottles of Beer running through my head all day. We finally sat down this morning and made an inventory of all the bottled ink in the house.

There are 49 bottles. Somehow, that seems like more than a lifetime supply.

Blues weigh most heavily in the collection, at twelve. Odd, since I don't much like blue ink. Joe does, though, and until recent months he's been the one buying most of the ink.

Blue is followed by red (8), green (7), and purple (6 - and here shows my influence!).

Am I tempted to buy more? Oh, not a doubt of it. But somehow I feel compelled to use up a bit of those 49 bottles already stashed away in the old oak secretary in the bedroom. Sooner or later it'll fill up and then where will we put it all?

Besides, how much is enough?

Ask me after the next bottle. Ink, not beer.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

The Sunday Post, February 20, 2011

Tick Tock

In the front hall of our home stands a grandfather clock. This clock was my grandmother's, and has been mine for close to 20 years. It's a kit clock, built and purchased when I was very small, and probably not worth a lot to anyone but me. It chimes every 15 minutes, in the classic Big Ben sequence.

Anyone who has lived with a chiming clock will agree that, after a while, one simply doesn't hear the clock chime unless one wants to. Visitors don't have that same reaction; my two-year-old granddaughter is fascinated with the clock, and every 15 minutes it requires some comment by her - usually an enthusiastic "Tick Tock!"

The clock brings back many memories of my grandmother for me; for one of these I have a peculiar fondness. Every time I spent the night at my grandmother's as a child, I slept in a hide-a-bed in the living room. Right next to the clock. That chimed every 15 minutes. And believe me, I heard it.

You can imagine how well I slept. Not.

Fast forward some 30 years, and I'm telling the story to someone of trying to sleep next to the clock, and never succeeding. My grandmother, also in the room, finally asks me why I never said anything to her. "Sheila, I could have stopped the clock! It never ran right anyway!"

But then I'd have no story today, and probably not half the fondness I have for the clock now.

Which, by the way, runs perfectly. It just needs to be leveled. Grandma wasn't the most mechanical in the family.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

The Sunday Post: February 13, 2011

The Critter Highway

Our house appears to be in the middle of the Critter Highway. There is so much traffic that there's practically a path worn through the yard.

Midway along our back fence there is a divot, a depression dug out in the earth. This is the portal to and from the pasture behind us. I've seen that "gateway" used by possums, raccoons, squirrels, cats...all sorts of creatures. And, unless they're stopping to nosh at the bird feeder or the squirrel feeder, or get water out of the fountain (or a convenient puddle - this is Seattle after all!) they invariably come through the divot and around the west side of the house. It might as well be a marked highway. Honestly.

I was told that, for years before the house was built, there was a den of coyotes about where my family room now is. You'd think that would discourage other foot traffic through the area, but there it is. (The coyotes moved north; I can still hear them.)

More than once over the years we've filled the divot in with dirt. It's no use; it just gets dug out again. In precisely the same place. Just to the left of the Japanese maple tree as you face south. We've finally given up and let them have their way.



The Critter Highway Underpass

I'm not quite sure why we've been favored with this, but it makes for some fun and interesting viewing. The other day I looked out the window, and saw a juvenile red-tailed hawk sitting on the fence post not twenty feet away looking back at me. He flew off before I had a chance to grab a camera. (He'd positioned himself halfway between the bird feeder and the squirrel feeder, and just above the divot - equal opportunity hunting, apparently.)

Enjoy your Sunday; I'll be enjoying mine watching the traffic go through the yard...

Sunday, February 6, 2011

The Sunday Post: February 5, 2011


Frost Doughnut Redux


You knew I'd do it. Since I so cleverly deleted the photos of the amazing doughnuts a couple of weeks ago, we had to go back.

Another lovely afternoon by the fireplace, with coffee, doughnuts and journals.

 
Maple bar, Salted Caramel doughnut, Banana Split Fritter, Aztec Chocolate doughnut

The maple bar is a classic. The Salted Caramel was just that - very reminiscent of an upper-end candy. The banana split fritter was a nice change from the apple variety - and the Aztec chocolate was amazing, darker chocolate, not too sweet, with cayenne pepper. Yum! What fun we had, trading bites and pens.

A bit short of time today as we have company coming over...hope everyone has a sweet Sunday!

Sunday, January 30, 2011

The Sunday Post: January 30, 2011

March 13, 2011.

Get out your calendar and put a nice, big red star on that date. Preferably in Diamine Red Dragon or J. Herbin 1670; this is truly a momentous date.

Why? It's the beginning of daylight savings time in the United States, of course. The unofficial end of winter.

Winter. I think most everyone in the Northern Hemisphere, and for certain in the US, is already sick of it.

I sure am.

Excuse me while I go find my calendar. There's some 1670 in a Taccia I need to make use of.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

The Sunday Post: January 23, 2011

The Quest Continues...



We continue to roam the area, looking for the ultimate coffee shop. Of course, the search is half the fun, so in a way I hope we never find it.

Last week we checked out a doughnut shop in the area that we'd never been to before. Turns out they only serve drip, and don't have much of a seating area. But. The Doughnuts. Oh my!

Artisan doughnuts - a concept that never occurred to me before. We bought way too many, and consumed them way too fast. Highlights included The Pink Lady - a chocolate doughnut with pink strawberry buttercream frosting; not too sweet and surprisingly sophisticated. I was also very happy with a Bourbon Caramel Pecan doughnut. Joe had (among other things) the Smokey Bacon Maple Bar, and gave me a bite; I have to say I wasn't that impressed, though they told us it's one of their top sellers. It's a lovely maple bar, with a generous amount of bacon sprinkled on top of the maple glaze. Um, what?

And I took a number of photos - and then promptly deleted them. By accident. I swear. I didn't mean to make it so we'd have to get more some time...

At any rate, we ended up coming home with a box of doughnuts, making our own coffee, and sitting contentedly by the fireplace as we loaded up on caffeine and sugar. If you live in the area, be sure to check out Frost Doughnuts.

Today I think we'll work our way further into Seattle proper and see what we can find.

Looking forward, I just got a vintage Parker True Blue ringtop and I think I'll do a photo shoot of the various Parkers I have, along with a review. Stay tuned for fun!

Sunday, January 16, 2011

The Sunday Post: January 16, 2011

Nature Walk in the Back Yard

The weather forecast for the day was for rain and 40+ mph winds. Neither of which are happening at the moment. In fact, I've seen a stray sunbeam or two out there.

I bought myself a present this week: a new dSLR camera, a Nikon D3100. You may have noticed a - ahem, slight improvement in, for example, the photos for the Dani review as opposed to the Barrel of Monkeys review photos, which were done with a point n shoot. The new Nikon arrived on Thursday, and I've taken about 350 shots with it already.

Since there was a lull in the action, weather-wise, I went out into the back yard to see what I could do.

For your Sunday enjoyment, here is Winter into Spring: A Walk Through the Back Yard.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

The Sunday Post: January 9, 2011

Over the last couple of months, we've fallen into the habit of going out for coffee on Sunday afternoons. Each week is a mini-adventure of locating a new coffeehouse, driving there, and sampling their wares. Each of us brings our journal and an assortment of pens to use, and trade back and forth. It makes for a pleasant afternoon.

This being Seattle, one might think that there are any number of excellent coffee shops. Truth be told, we've yet to find one that meets requirements completely.

I have been surprised by just how many we've found that offer coffees made by automated machines (not great, but acceptable) and baked goods that look suspiciously like they were bought at Costco the week prior, wrapped in Saran, and stuck in a refrigerator to try to preserve some faint resemblance to freshness (NOT acceptable). One or two shops we tried are stuffed into spaces clearly meant for hobbits, not grown adults. Or they mean to turn the clientele quickly by making the seating area as unusable and cramped as can be.

In desperation, last week we even went to the world's most prevalent Seattle coffee shop. The Big S is not normally my husband's first choice; he believes they tend to over-roast the beans, but he went along. The coffee was fine. The pastries were good. And the shop was so crowded and freezing from the door's constant opening that it was a very uncomfortable experience.

So the quest for a Good Coffee Shop continues. Perhaps we'll meet with success this very afternoon.