I should always feel this great the day after a vacation.

Two years ago on our anniversary Z and I went to a really cool resort in British Columbia called Point No Point on Vancouver Island. (I found it by doing various searches on the coast using "hot tub" and "remote" as search terms.) We told our pals C and T all about it, and last winter they reminded us that we'd agreed to all go back there together. (This is the time in our lives where we must make good on all NW dreams and plans, so, off we went to celebrate Z's birthday.) It was fantastic and amazing and beatutiful... and I got sick. T and I BOTH got sick, actually. She was symptomatically about 6 or 8 hours ahead of me, so I could glimpse the future of my respiratory passages just by looking at her next to me in the backseat. We bought some whiskey for medicinal purposes, though and kept a hanky with us at all times (even in the hot tub) and generally did just fine.

(Please note, w/ almost no exceptions, Zak took almost all of these photos.)
We climbed a hill at Deception Pass and saw a big old bird who wouldn't come back to say hello.
 

We saw some of those succulent plants that are always in the "Native Plants" part of the store here, and I've never believed actually belonged. Oops.
 

I ate an expertly cooked omelet.
 

C and I lost a hacky sack in the jungle almost immediately. More to come very shortly... I actually have to go back to work.
 

???

Just riding along, minding my own business, when...

And all I got was some feathers in my hair...

Sundays are my favorite day of the week. They always start with a walk to the Farmer's Market. If I'm early enough, I get eggs, if I'm not I've got to wait until next week. I stop at Anselmo's for onions and potatoes every week, and at Growing Things when I need soap. I stop and listen to some Bluegrass on the sidewalk and taste the cheese before I buy it.

The next stop is for coffee or tea at one of my favorite spots. I've headed to Floating Leaves with my friend David a couple of times in the last month, and I often go to Nervous Nelly's (Where they know my name and my drink, and assume I want toast with cheese and egg.)

Today, I decided to head to the Chai House instead. When I first moved to Ballard Mr. Spot's Chai House was one of my homes away from home. The first day we had keys to the place, actually, I went out in search of some sage and prayer flags for our new home and I found myself at the Chai House buying both, and a Ruby Tuesday (Chai, no milk, pomegranite syrup, juice of a whole lemon and some cayenne pepper. Yummy.) Since we decided to move away from Seattle, I'm occasionally wracked with nostalgia and fondness for my adopted city. Unlike when we left the Northeast (I always knew I'd be traveling back for friends and family.) I'm not sure when I'll be able to make it back here and how often.

There I sat, knitting on the couch, gazing at the really bad art on the wall, sipping my Ruby Tuesday (fantastic for the immune system) and spacing out.
The incredibly competent barista with a subtle jerry curl kind of mohawk asked a woman who appeared to be a customer to cover for her. A few minutes later I happened to look at the people in line. They had snow in their hair! It wasn't warm today, but not cold enough for snow by at least 20 degrees! I looked outside... nothing. I looked back at the growing line and realized that they had feathers in their hair. Like, goose down. In fact... there was a young man with what looked like a pillow under his jacket. ? I looked outside again and discovered that feathers were blowing down the sidewalk, as if... as if there had been a pillow fight in the small park next to the Chai House. This is a bizarre thought to have, but the only solution to the evidence in front of me. The barista ran in, feathers in her mohawk and tagged out with her temporary replacement. I headed outside and sure enough there were a couple of pillows in sight, but a lot more hair full of feathers. In any case the entire park was FILLED with goose down. I wish I could have gotten a picture, but I'm sure some will appear in the next couple of hours.

When I got home, I googled "Ballard Pillow Fight" and found out that it was a "Flash Mob Pillow Fight."

I missed it! Something bizarre happened and I only got to see the aftermath! But really, the aftermath was more mysterious and lovely than witnessing the event without taking part would have been.

(In this one you can see the Barista in the sleeveless sweatshirt in the center.)

The Island Wedding On International Women's Day

I'm finally sick today, which is good because it's been LOOMING for weeks now. It gives me a chance to tell you all about the wedding of my friends Sandra and Molly. It was absolutely beautiful, and warm and everything a small wedding on a small island should be.

The adventure was more than just a wedding however! First, we had to get there! The brides asked Z and I if we could transport the officiant, JT to the ceremony on Orcas Island. Our little red wagon is the best, and I'm crazy about her...let me say that right away. Her CV joint is on it's way out however, and she's not the comfiest ride in town for an older person (the officiant) who might be stiff after hours in our back seat and Z is far too tall to hang in the back. Yet again, I am blessed with fantastic friends, and we borrowed our pal's VW van. This way we could ride AND sleep in comfort without having to pay for a room! Now, there's no sense in all those captain chairs going to waste... within days before the weekend, we had a merry band... Zak and I would pick up Julie, John and JT and head north. It was awesome...

except that I couldn't quite get the blinkers to work. They worked when I picked up the van on Friday night, but come Saturday morning, no go. I spent all the time I'd put aside for a hair cut buying fuses and replacing one, but still I hand signaled my way all the way up to Orcas.

First I picked up Julie (and a couple of "back up dresses" for each of us) and headed back for Z. Then we picked up John at Mighty O, along with some donuts and coffees, and then finally we were in front of JT's door, handing her a latte and apologizing for being almost 40 minutes late. (The blinker fiasco and a top secret wardrobe emergency were to blame.)

On the phone Friday night, JT had said "I'm not an anxious person." She proved this. Back home, I only took ferries to little tiny islands, ferries that left every 20 minutes or so. Here, in the Pacific Northwest, I've arrived for a ferry two hours early, and STILL missed it and had to wait still more hours for the next one. There are no ferry reservations, only ferry victors and ferry victims. Granted, ferry tragedies generally occur on busy, sunny, summer weekends, and not in March. All the same, I burned rubber all the 85 miles up the highway, no bathroom stops.

I got to know JT a little bit because she sat up front with me. She's a professor who teaches writing and poetry, and she was the academic advisor to Molly, one of the brides. We had a nice chat that occasionally overlapped and mingled with the hilarity that was happening in the back. Luckily, I'd happened to have heard all the stories that Z and Johnny told, so I didn't miss out on too much.

I'm a pretty good driver, and Z taught me how to drive. He is a very safe driver, and is anxious whenever he's in the passenger seat. I owe John and Julie something really great because they kept at least part of his brain occupied enough so that I didn't hear him gasp or holler when he was overwhelmed at the dangers of highway driving.

As we were approaching the ferry, I heard John say "He died when his bladder exploded. Most people figure it was mercury poisoning though." It was at this moment that I realized that we hadn't made one stop for the whole trip. We pulled in at 1:12. The ferry was set to leave at 1:15. The woman in the booth told us we would make it on. We celebrated. I parked. If we'd had to wait for the next ferry, we'd have gotten dressed on the boat and just barely gotten there with JT just before the whole shebang was due to start.

Here's Jules mending her gorgeous black dress on the ferry. We got to hang out with some really cool people, so I hardly even noticed that I'd forgotten to bring cards.
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I was very hungry when we got to the adorable inn. The three J's checked in, JT stayed at the hotel, and the rest of our band struck out for lunch. We found the little organic coop, and I had tofu and veggie sushi with brown rice. I picked my food first (I was most desperate.) and collapsed on the sidewalk in the sun. After a couple of bites, I realized I was in the way of any potential traffic (not a lot in the sleepy tourist town in the off season. I watched a bunch of local teenagers who looked like they'd been sniffing glue or something reenact scenes from Beowolf until Jules came out to join me. We talked about love and marriage and all of that lovely mess. I finished my entire lunch by the time the fellas were done. Still hoping to get a haircut, I ducked into one of the three hair cutteries pointed out on my tourist food map from the inn. No dice. Julie and I went back to get ready, and here's Zak and John having their lunch among the gulls across the street from the inn.
 

The sunlight was so beautiful, and it made photos really tricky.
 

Foreshadowing for the toast that would come later.
 

more of the wedding

Zak looks skeptical...

 




one of a series.



DJ WD40 who rocked the wedding. Musically, the best wedding I've ever been too. This guy took care of the ambience and entrance and exit and dancing, and friends Sonya and Laura sang and played Nina Simone during the ceremony. For reals! We also hung with him while we waited for the next ferry home, and he's a cool guy.
 

John and Jules talking animatedly.
 

Jt looks on as the nephews light candles as the sun goes down in a blaze of glory.
 

Maine Pictures

 

Here is a drawing my cousin Ben made of my Grandfather from a photo. He made it when he was 19, but as you can see it's really beautiful. It was taken at a dental convention in the 60's and my Grandpa wasn't crazy about it. I think he said something about it making him looking like a gangster. Anyway, my aunt brought the painting to the funeral and it was there, right next to the casket. The woman who took it (my granddad's dental assistant from those years) showed up unexpectedly and gasped "I took that picture!" It was pretty awesome, especially because my grandpa was an artist himself, and Ben is really the one who's carrying that torch around now.

 

Sunrise over Tenants Harbor. We never slept late when we visited grandpa.
 

This is where my grandfather's house used to be. That's his old garage where we used to play sometimes. That enormous bush was not there in those days. The house was sold 5 years ago when Grandpa went into residential care, but razed only a couple of weeks ago, apparently. It hurt my eyes to look at it.

 

Family Foto in Front of Farmer's.

There are more pictures from this trip, with more words here.

Retreat pictures continued...

These are some frozen mushrooms. I got up one morning and walked the stone labrynth after breakfast. As I walked back to the lodge, the sun glinted at me from a mudpile. These skinny little mushrooms had frozen overnight, and were sparkling and melting as I watched. They were lit up and most lovely just as the sun touched them, and thus just before they crunched under the heat of the sun and the weight of the mud they inhabited. It was really beautiful, and sudden and I'm afraid these pictures don't really do it justice. The whole time, there was the sound of them breaking and little pebbles and chunks of mud falling.

My Retreat

Here are some pictures from the retreat I took all by myself in November. It was very peaceful, slow, introspective and lovely.

Here's my cabin. I was supposed to share it with roomates, but none presented themselves. The first morning I was there, I wrote a small note to the roomies who would arrive telling them who I was, and how long I'd be there, and that of course they could take the big bed if they wanted it.

 

Most of the people wandering around Breitenbush have towels around their necks. Between the hottubs and pools and the sauna, noone is ever dry for very long. Here I am heading out for a hike and a soak. The crazy thing is that I walked to the lodge and set down my towel and my water on a picnic table. I knew that noone would touch my things unless they absolutely couldn't avoid it. I went on my little hike up the river and then came back to my belongings just where I needed them. It was very cold already, so I'm wearing my silly hat, too.

 

This is the inside of the cozy warm cabin. It's heated with radiators that are filled with water that was piped down under the earth to the hot spots and then piped back up. Because this uses almost no energy, I had no guilt about turning up the heat in my cozy cabin and taking really hot long showers.

 

This is the lodge I described earlier. It's where all the meals are served. In the afternoon, the sun shone on the porch there and I liked to eat at the picnic tables. Then after, I'd find an Adirondack chair and move it near the woodpile, the LAST place to remain sunny before the sun fell behind the mountains, and knit. (In fact, you can see the chair right where I left it.)

 

A Carrot Love Story.

I love going to the Farmer's Market!