News Trend Bookcase Bonanza|Actual

So here's the way my week-long visit with my second-born was supposed to play out:

Adventures around Columbus all week long.

Run up to Cleveland on Saturday for my two-year-old great-niece's afternoon birthday party

Spend the night in Cleveland, drive back on Sunday morning.

Fly home to Seattle Monday night.

Here is what actually happened:

Adventures around for a day and a half

Spontaneous road trip to Chicago

Overstayed our Windy City visit

Drove to Cleveland way late.

Missed the birthday party

Showed up at my sis- and bro-in-law's house for a fantastic after party.

Left their house around midnight for the two-hour drive back to Columbus.

Spent Sunday recovering.

Flew home to Seattle Monday night.

Oh, And along the way, I scored a fabulous mid century bookcase.

Stylish and sweet, the new bookcase lives at my daughter's home.

During the waning years of my mother-in-law's sweet life, she moved from her grand family home to an apartment to a small assisted-living space. With each change of address came another round of downsizing, and my husband's younger sister and her patient husband gathered all of these beloved belongings into their basement.

Over the years, the siblings have gone over this tremendous stash time and time again, selecting favorite pieces, carting some off to the east coast and others to our home on the west. But no matter how many car- and truck- and shipping-pod-loads disappear, there always seem to be new gems uncovered, too precious to be tossed.

During our Saturday evening visit, my sister-in-law invited me to take yet another tour of the basement and see if there was anything I'd like to claim. As I headed toward the familiar stairs, she called after me, "Hey, there's a nice bookcase down there. Check it out."

For all my trips to the basement over the years, I hadn't seen this particular bookcase before. And my sis-in-law was right - this baby was solid birch construction with clean mid century lines, in immaculate condition.

And most tantalizing of all, we had already taken the matching dresser - my eldest daughter uses it in her apartment. I'm not a fan of matchy-matchy furniture but I do love to keep furniture siblings together.

Full of art books, I can only assume it is loving its new lease on life.

No question about it; I loved the bookcase.

But ugh. Over the years, we had already shipped two moving pods of belongings across the United States. My husband would surely curl up and die if I proposed moving something more.

Suddenly my brain threw off a few tiny sparks of inspiration.

My daughter lives just two hours away! If only I could get the bookcase to her place, we could figure the rest out later.

But how was I to transport this beauty to Columbus?

I laughed at myself. My rental car was parked in the driveway, literally ready and waiting to do my bookcase bidding.

Five minutes later, my brother-in-law and nephew had wrestled the bookcase into my car. The sturdy frame grazed the interior on both sides, the legs just cleared the ceiling. It was a perfect fit.

In other words, this bookcase and I were a match made in heaven.

My daughter's dining table decked out with fall flair.

We rolled into my daughter's apartment in the wee hours of the night.

The bookcase spent the night in the car.

Earlier in the week, we had searched high and low for the perfect white pumpkins. Things had fallen into place in that endeavor too.

The next morning, we lugged it up the stairs to my daughter's bedroom, where it sits to this very day.

John Glenn International Airport at night. Bye, Columbus!

And shortly thereafter, I said goodbye to my daughter and her new bookcase, and flew away home.

* * * * *

I spent an eventful week in Columbus with my second-born - here are all the details:

Suitcase Signals

Fox In The Snow

Picking Pumpkins

The Bean

The Gorilla And The Flamingo

Doughnut Vault

Wells Street Bridge

The Rookery

Flamingo Again

Wabash Arts Corridor

The Berghoff

Glossier Pop-Up

Bookcase Bonanza

News Trend Three Landmarks And A Pass On The Oregon Trail|Actual

In June of 2017, my husband and I flew to Ohio, loaded up a U-Haul van full of

family treasures, and drove it 2500 miles back across the country.

These are our adventures along the way.

* * * * *

As we rolled ever west, we followed U.S. Highway 20 across the border into Wyoming.

Through Guernsey where we spent the night.

Through Casper where we picked up Highway 220.

And thus we met up with the iconic Oregon Trail and followed that route up into the mountains to the Continental Divide.

The kisi-kisi as it once was - a rut of worn soil and rock, ranging in width from a passage as narrow as a wagon to almost a mile wide - weaves back and forth across today's two-lane highway as both work their way toward the defining barrier between east and west, South Pass.

For the terkini traveler, finding the route is as easy as reading the signs along the way, or clicking around on our phones. In desperate times, we can always rely on an old-school paper map.

But imagine you are a weary traveler in the 1840s or 1850s, walking your way across the wilderness. You're about to face the defining ridge on the continent - the place where waters part to run either to the east or the west - and you would certainly like to face that arduous challenge at the most accessible spot. South Pass, they say, is the easiest place to cross and so to find it, you must rely on three key landmarks:

Independence Rock

This big ol' mound of granite lies smack dab along the Oregon Trail, just off the Sweetwater River, and serves a welcome sight for you and the travelers of that day. Those who reach the rock by Independence Day - July 4 - consider themselves on pace with the journey, and as you roll in to its shadow, you take this as a harbinger that you will be out of the mountains before the first snows fall in autumn.

So like other emigrants before you, when you arrive here, after seeing the rock from afar for many miles. You celebrate. Many before you have carved their names in the rock, and like many more you take advantage of the rock's gentle slope and firm footholds to scramble up and take in the views

^ Today, Independence Rock is just as easy to find and explore. Broad walkways lead in from the parking lot, and warning signs for rattlesnakes remind me of just how accustomed we are to having dangers mapped out ahead of us.

^ The walkways continue around the base of the granite behemoth, and we followed them, appreciating its considerable girth and height.

^ An unintended shot captures my outfit of the day, sandals of the summer, and the pink pom-poms on my favorite summer purse. I love a happy accident.

^ It's easy to appreciate how the emigrants were tempted to scale the mighty monolith. I watched a dad with three young boys test their mettle against the rock and was delighted to see how they scrambled up like a herd of nimble goats.

^ In some places, visitors today are allowed to climb but fences protect areas of the rock where old signatures still remain. Fences or not, my husband does not look particularly interested in a vertical adventure, and so we move along.

* * * * *

Devil's Gate

Following the Sweetwater upstream, your eyes strain for the second key landmark along the Oregon Trail. Just five miles up ahead,  Devil's Gate is a natural rock formation, a gorge along the Sweetwater where the currents have worn a distinctive slot in the surrounding granite ridge. Although the trail does not pass directly through Devil's Gate - which would have been a wet, wild ride - you take confidence that you are still on course to South Pass.

^ We made several stops along the quiet highway to find just the right angle for capturing the steep sides of Devil's Gate. The countryside was quiet and lush, the gap was an arresting sight in the wilderness, and other than the fence in the foreground, this scene must look just as it did when the emigrants spied it almost two hundred years ago.

^ As I framed my photos of Devil's gate by looking to the right, I then glanced toward my left and saw this marker: Oregon California Trails. This dry, desiccated patch of ground lay under the wagon wheels and weary feet of the 19th century travelers. I imagined their joy as they realize their climb to the rooftop of the continent is almost done, and I hopped in the car to follow on.

Split Rock

With Independence Rock and Devil's Gate in your dust, you spy one last landmark that lights the way to South Pass. Split Rock is a mountain with a deep V-shaped cleft in its peak, visible for miles around. You gaze at the Sweetwater River that runs along the kisi-kisi as both sweep around the mountain's base, and you take one last deep breath as you prepare to climb to South Pass

^ I didn't get a chance to capture Split Rock, but here's a shot of pioneer photographer Henry William Jackson camping on the banks of the Sweetwater at the base of the mountain with members of a survey team in 1870.

Source

South Pass

You've been preparing for this summit, the most extraordinary mountain crossing you will make on the Trail, since the day you set off. The three landmarks have shown you the way, and now you follow surprisingly gentle green meadows up toward the sky. Sure, the hike is strenuous but compared to the snow-covered rocky peaks around you, this scenery is absolutely tame.

^ I've traveled through South Pass quite a few times and yet, every time I'm struck again at the incredible cleverness of the scouts who found this pastoral route. It reminds me of the scene at the beginning of The Sound Of Music where Fraulein Maria is twirling in a flower-strewn meadow in the mountains. This looks like a place for a picnic, not a rigorous mountain crossing.

^ But this is it. The continental divide that the emigrants found by following the landmarks across the miles. I thought of them as I stopped here for a picnic, and hope that they enjoyed their time here too. I hope they felt a special joy and a huge relief as they met this major milestone on their journey across the continent.

So I raise my salami and cheese sandwich to you, Oregon Trail travelers, and celebrate your amazing accomplishments.

* * * * *

Here are all of our adventures from this summer road trip across America:

Off Again

A Journey Through The Sky In Three Stages

Cute Cat Photos

Smiling Faces

An Afternoon In Iowa In Three Stages

A Letter To The Children At The Pool

Say Hello To The Byway

Three Landmarks And A Pass On The Oregon Trail

Road Trip Realities

News Trend Hockey Night In Canada|Actual

It's a simple fact of life that my father brought very few rays of sunshine into my life, but I will give him credit for introducing me to the joys of hockey.

When I was a toddler, he built a skating rink in our Michigan backyard, strapped me into some double bladed baby skates (actually, I expect my mom was the one who dressed me), and set me to pushing a chair around the ice. That's how I learned how to skate.

And when I grew big enough, he laced me into a pair of child-sized hockey skates (again, my mom).Led me down the hill to a shoveled patch of ice on the frozen lake, and put a hockey stick in my hand.

I was the only little girl in the neighborhood who wore hockey skates and that was a little weird but I secretly enjoyed it.

I also enjoyed Saturday nights. During the winter months, my dad would turn on the TV with great ceremony and announce, "It's time for Hockey Night in Canada." And for the next few hours, men in padded costumes would glide around the ice, swinging their sticks with great enthusiasm, causing the tiny black puck to ricochet around the rink so quickly that my eyes could never keep up. This too was endlessly fascinating to me

By the time I was eleven, my hockey skates had been replaced with figure skates and my dad was gone, but Hockey Night in Canada has remained.

* * * * *

Here in Seattle, we don't have a National Hockey League franchise. Never have, but soon we will. The new team will begin to play in the 2021/2022 season and I'm excited for that new day to come.

But in the meantime, in order to catch an NHL game, I need to travel to an NHL city. And the closest one to my house, clocking in at 125 miles, is Vancouver, British Columbia.

Recently, my first-born, who is an avid fan of the Colorado Avalanche, and I made that trip up to our northern neighbor to catch a game when the Avs were in town.

Yes. We went to see hockey. At night. In Canada.

* * * * *

Although it's entirely possible to go up for a game and back in a single day, my daughter and I decided to treat ourselves to an overnight stay in Vancouver. She booked us into a hotel half a block from Rogers Arena, and Yelped us a meal plan that was full of delicious surprises. So when we pulled into town around mid-afternoon, we checked into the hotel, and then turned right back around to find us some food.

^Meat & Bread had all the accouterments of a proper postmodern eatery: salvaged wood, subway tiles, minimalistic wall art, and a tightly edited menu.

We were hoping to try the highly recommended porchetta sandwiches but they were already sold out for the day. So we settled for the meatball subs instead.

^ They were, in a word, delicious. Packed with plenty of greens and accompanied by a puddle of spicy mustard, the sandwich was powered by punchy flavors. Both my daughter and I struggled to maintain our composure while eating - chunks of meat dropped onto the table, the bread crumbled, and of course that mustard dribbled all over our hands. We each used a dozen napkins and pronounced the masterpiece a deliciously messy plate of good food.

As we were eating, two other customers came into the restaurant, each a party of one, sat at tables to our immediate right and left, and began to eat their own meatball sandwiches. To my daughter's and my astonishment and surprise, each of them munched down every delicious bite without spilling so much as a crumb, and when they had finished, used exactly one napkin apiece to gently dab at the corners of their unsoiled mouths. We never did figure out how they managed to eat so neatly, but we were mightily impressed.

^ For dinner, we tried a pizza place called The Parlour. Rustic handmade personal size pizzas and icy Cokes were the perfect post-hockey refreshment, and the restaurant's dark and memento-filled ambiance was cozy and warm.

^ And the next morning, on our way out of town, we grabbed breakfast atCafé Medina. I'm not much of a breakfast food person, but word on the street was that they served the best waffles in town, so I decided to give the waffles a try. Light and airy, drenched in proper Canadian maple syrup. They did not disappoint even a waffle cynic like me.

* * * * *

But now let's get to the meat of our visit. Vancouver Canucks versus the Colorado Avalanche. A fun game, with an overtime win for the Canucks that left us Avs fans deflated but the hometown crowd buoyant, which made for good vibes as the crowds spilled out into the streets after the game.

But win or lose, my favorite moment in the game came early.

^ We planned to arrive early. Before dark, we left our hotel, joined the throngs of people already flowing into the arena, and found our seats.

^ Thus properly oriented, we made our way down to the ice and stood at the glass to watch the Avs warm up. Around and around the players moved through their pre-game drills, taking shots on goal, then forming up lines behind the net and passing in front of us as they made their way back up to center ice, their faces just a few feet away from ours.

As we watched, I became aware of a twelve-ish-year-old-boy standing next to us along the glass.

Well. Everyone within a hundred feet of us was aware of this kid because he had the kind of loud, overbearing manner that is the particular specialty of boys that age. As each member of the Avs passed by us in formation, this little darling would pound on the glass with his open hands and shout at the top of his lungs in hopes, I suppose, of getting a player to react.

But the players did not react. Professionals that they are, the Avs continued to loop around, focused on their warm-ups and the game ahead. They paid no attention to my obnoxious young neighbor.

Until this happened.

^ Skating slowly around the corner, in line with his teammates came Nial Yakupov. Number 64. He had already passed by the little attention-seeker any number of times during the course of the warm-ups.

But this time,

without warning,

right before my eyes,

he suddenly broke formation, veered over to the glass where this young fan was pounding and yelling. In a split second, Yakupov formed a fist and punched the glass as hard as he could right in front of the boy's face.

As only an overgrown boy himself would do.

And in the next split second, as the boy stared in stunned silence, Yakupov grinned an enormous smile at him and skated off to re-take his place in line.

The boy turned and ran off to find his parents. I can only assume he wanted to tell them what had just happened.

I certainly hope so. I'll be telling this story for the rest of my life, and I hope the boy will too. Maybe someday he will grow up, become a hockey player, and punch the glass in front of some other crazy little boy's face.

There's just no telling what might happen on a Hockey Night in Canada.

* * * * *

Credit for photos 4, 9, 10, and 11 to my first-born, whose photos bring my story to life. Thank you!

* * * * *

Stories about my less-than-perfect dad:

Father's Day Musings About A Bad Dad

My Mother And Me

Spinning Gold Out Of Straw

Fresh Air

Hockey Night In Canada

News Trend Protect Our Planet With Stainless Steel Straws|Actual

"What are you giving up for Lent?"

That's a common question in these forty days before Easter. And when I ask, nine times out of ten, the answer is chocolate, beer, or social media.

But what if we look at Lent as an opportunity not to just temporarily give up a bad habit but to start a good habit - a habit that makes a difference to people, to the world, to God.

This year for Lent, my goal is to protect our planet. I'm looking for ways to lessen my impact on our mother earth and bring me joy at the same time.

Here is the story of my progress.

* * * * *

I own a set of eight straws but as always, some are currently in use.

By now, you've probably heard the word on plastic drinking straws - they are outta here. One-use plastic utensils are clogging our oceans and cluttering up our beaches, and we can surely do better.

On July 1, 2018, my home city of Seattle was the first major U.S. City to enforce a full ban on plastic straws. Around these parts, stainless steel straws became an emblem of educated consumerism, and many of us began to carry slim drawstring pouches with our drinking tools inside.

But Seattle is not the only place where plastic products have been banned. All around our country and our world, the dominoes of single-use plastics are falling at a fast and furious rate.

Plastic shopping bags.

Single-use utensils - forks, spoons, knives, straws, stirrers, cocktail picks

Styrofoam food containers.

Plastic micro-beads in personal care products.

Non-recyclable plastic coffee pods

All have been prohibited at some place around the world and more bans are surely coming soon.

[source]

Not only do these bans help protect our planet from plastic pollution,  but they are forcing us to come up with alternatives that are actually far better products. Have you ever sipped an icy cold drink through a stainless steel straw? Steel conducts cold far better than plastic, so every inch of the straw is chilled. On warm days, condensation forms on the outside of the straw, which exponentially increases the icy cool sensation.

The overall effect is pure heaven.

So if you have not already jumped on the stainless steel straw bandwagon, do yourself and the planet a favor and make the leap. Here's the set that I bought and I recommend them one hundred percent.

Kichwit Extra Long Reusable Extra Wide Stainless Steel Straws, Set of 8

* * * * *

Read on about my efforts to help protect our planet

Reusable Shopping Bags

Biodegradable Toothbrushes

Eliminating Plastic Food Packaging

Bar Soap

Glass Food Storage

Stainless Steel Straws

Supporting Innovation

News Trend Gracie Goes To Kalaloch|Actual

"I doubt whether the world holds for anyone a more soul-stirring surprise than

the first adventure with ice cream." -Heywood Broun

"...Or with the beach." -me

* * * * *

On September 12, 2017, just two months after she came into our lives, Gracie made her first trip to Kalaloch. Based on what I know about her previous lives, I daresay this was also her first trip to a proper Pacific Northwest beach

Little did she know what was about to unfold.

^ Wait. You want me to lie on this rug in the middle of a weird little gravel patch in the middle of the woods, and watch while you scatter unfamiliar contraptions with names like "tent" and "cookstove"  all around me? And you tell me that this is called "going to Kalaloch?"

Alright. I have no idea what that means. But I'll play along.

^ Ohhhhh! What's this?! Sand and water and endless sky. Let's go!!

^ Hey, this is a great place to run and run and run!

^ And splash through the water, and then run and run some more!

^ Hang on, I see something else that's interesting. Follow me.

^ Birds! So many birds to scent and stalk and scare off my beach. I have the power to make them fly.

^ I also have a powerful thirst. The water in the waves doesn't taste quite right but this little stream is delicious. Give me a minute; this is going to take a while.

^ People! Dogs! Birds! And endless space to run. Is this heaven?

^ My people have an interesting ability to walk on top of these big silver logs. After a few wild leaps and crazy falls, I am getting the hang of it too.

^ Now we go back up under the canopy of trees, and as my people rattle around in the back of the car and carry strange items here and there, I think I will close my eyes for just a minute.

^ And when I awake, this is happening. Hmm. What is this strange beast?

^Whatever that flickering yellow creature might be, it seems to create food. My people ate this and shared none of it with me.

^ Now we get to go back down to the big open place and it's more beautiful than ever.

^ The wind has kicked up and my fur is blowing every which way. My ears are about to fly off.

^ And then the sun sets. And even I am ready to stop running and watch the sky turn to gold.

^ Next morning, and the next, and the next, we are at it again. Walking,

^ and eating

^ and playing in the waves.

I'm still not exactly certain what a Kalaloch is but now I know for sure that I love it.

* * * * *

My family and I go to Kalaloch a lot. Here are stories from our trips over the years:

2019

Wide Open Spaces

Whale Bones

Ways To Play

The World Of Packet Dinners

Windows

2018

Walking On Rialto Beach

2017

Gracie Goes To Kalaloch

2015

The Last Day Of My Summer Vacation

2014

With Joy And Wild Abandon

With Hope And Desperate Longing

With Peace And New Beginnings

2012

It's All About The Food

It's All About Playing On The Beach

It's All About The Sunsets

It's All About The Artistic Inspiration

It's All About The Memories

2011

Discovering Tide Pools

Discovering Sunsets

2010

Balanced Rocks

sometime before 2010

Golden Pup