Mission accomplished!

myquiltisdonemyquiltisdonemyquiltisdonemyquiltisdonemyquiltisdonemyquiltisdonemyquiltisdonemyquiltisdonemyquiltisdonemyquiltisdonemyquiltisdonemyquiltisdonemyquilt

You can look at it as long as you promise not too examine it too closely.  HEY - THAT'S CLOSE ENOUGH!  It looks better from a distance anyway . . . . see?

Thanks, Rebecca, for modeling help! (Your sweater matches the quilt blocks)

Thoughts on marriage equality

Opposition to marriage equality has accomplished only one thing: to permit and perpetuate a population of second-class citizens.


It has not changed the desire or commitment of gays and lesbians to remain as couples.


It has not reduced the number or success of lesbian and gay households with children.


It has not made gay people go away.


Same sex couples:

I love these people.  Some of them are (gasp) gay.

• pay taxes
• own homes
• raise kids
• go to PTA meetings
• have affairs
• divorce
• try again
• live in Utah
• live oversees
• grow old
• suffer from Alzheimer's
• make mistakes
• try again
• love one another
• love straight people
• miss their families
• deserve a break
• deserve equality

2011 Doggie Dash

A little starting line showdown.

The Methow Valley Nordic Club's Doggie Dash is a zany, off-the-wall event which delights spectators and participants, locals and out-of-towners.  Held at the Winthrop Town Trailhead on Sunday of President's Day weekend, this year's celebration of nordic skiing and dogs boasted excellent snow conditions and brilliant, sunny weather.

Participants on skis ranged from Emmet Bondi at age 3-ish, to full-fledged senior citizens reacquainting themselves with their inner child.

Karla Segale as entomologist, left, Susan Pritchard in striped leggings, right.

Four-legged racers included Karla Segale's petit black and white Pappilon (weighing no more than 8 pounds in butterfly wings), and a couple of monstrous Bernese mountain dogs.  Thanks to far-sighted planning, the tots only compete against other children, and the tiny dogs are not asked to run with the Titans.

Separate prizes are given for costumes and speed; one need not be a champion skier to compete.

The rules, written by the Nordic Club, are as follows:  Dogs must be on a leash.  You must start and finish with the same dog.  Imaginative costumes suggested for both you and your dog. 

The only costume-related liability I observed was Dave Ford's dog becoming hobbled by its Spandex cape.  Other mishaps included crossed leashes leading to trips and falls, and a number of dogs and owners crossing the finish line as separate, disconnected entities.  I observed no tears, but lots of smiles and good-natured ribbing.  

Danbert Nobacon, left, John Spaude, right, Teri Pieper with camera in the background.

The photo opportunities were boundless; however, my little camera had some trouble keeping up with the speed of events, and suffered a bit from the low temperatures.  To view a professional slideshow of this year's event, check out Teri Pieper's blog.

The Livestock Cafe

Beautiful Okanogan County.  Home, sweet home.  From the snowy peaks to the verdant valleys; from the lycra playground of Mazama to the productive orchards of Malott; from sagebrush to Ponderosa pines; Okanogan County boasts of open spaces and not a lot of people.  With only four stoplights in the county and 7.5 persons per square mile, complaints about rampant urbanization are usually tongue-in-cheek.  It's far easier to complain of few cultural activities and commercial choices, but even that is not really fair.   In any month, with a little effort one can enjoy locally produced theater, music, and fine art exhibits, even in our tiniest hamlets.  If you stop to converse with your waitress or cashier, you shouldn't be surprised to find her conversant in the finer points of Balinese gamelan, or Spanish wines.

Now food, food can be a bit of a problem at times.  In any part of the county, the stranger would do well to ask the locals where to go for lunch, for the eating establishments are not obvious, often closed, and few and far between.   Methow Valley residents, upon hearing of a neighbor's visit to far-flung Tonasket or Brewster, invariably ask, "Is there anyplace good to eat around there?"

Parked cars in front of the entrance don't help the ambience.

So it's high time some intrepid eater/reporter tackled the job of restaurant reviews around here.  It may as well be me.  I'll start with a mostly overlooked gem of a greasy spoon, Okanogan's Livestock Cafe.

With no street presence (there is a sign that says "cafe"), and unlikely location at the front of Okanogan's livestock auction yard, one could hardly be blamed for driving right past the Livestock and never stopping.  But I'm suggesting you stop, and here's why:  you can get breakfast all day, or a "livestock" burger with homemade french fries, or chicken-fried steak (yes Tony, you heard me), AND rub elbows with the hardworking orchardists and cattlemen of the valley who already know it's good.  Claude Miller was having lunch there today and that's good enough for me.

Bacon cheeseburger

Frank and I each ordered burgers with fries.  I honestly couldn't have been happier with my food, and look how much was on the plate!  The fries were made from scratch, hot and greasy.  You get your pop in a can, but you can always ask for a cup of ice.

The woman at the next table got the soup of the day (navy bean), and it came with a hunk of cornbread!  Coffee refills appeared regularly.

The interior is shabby, a little grimy, and pretty much as it was in the 50s.  They have counter and table seating.  Pictures of prize bulls adorn the walls.  Here's a fabulous mural from 1952 that I just had to show you.

From Highway 97 in Okanogan, (going north) turn left immediately after the casino, follow the frontage road to the first intersection and turn right on Rodeo Trail.  Pull into the livestock auction yard.  Park among the large muddy pickup trucks.  Go on in the door; don't be afraid; they'll be glad to see you.  Your waitress will even open your can of pop for you.

blunt about technology

So I had just pulled into Winthrop Physical Therapy and Fitness the other day, and as I paused in the icy parking lot for a driver to back out of a space, was surprised by a white minivan which proceeded to pass me on the right.  I briefly wondered about this thoughtless driver, parked and then headed toward the gym entrance.  Just as I reached the door, a woman's voice hailed me from the top of a six-foot snow berm across the lot, shouting "Do you know where the waxing shed is?"  Yeah, it didn't compute for me either, but I live in a town where we typically assist strangers, so I stopped and watched  her and her two middle-school aged children scramble down the snowy slope.  As they walked toward me, her daughter announced, "We were told to check in at the waxing shed."  Being a resident of the Methow Valley and knowing something about the upcoming weekend's events, I replied, "You must be talking about the ski races at Liberty Bell high school."  "Yes, yes!  Isn't this the high school?  Our GPS told us this was the high school."  I wandered over to the white minivan with them, and helped direct them back down the highway 4 miles to where they would find the only high school within a 30-mile radius.

Now, our driver had already driven 4 miles past the well-signed turnoff to the school, so only two things could account for her error: she might not have obeyed the GPS instructions, or possibly her GPS directed her in error to the site of the former Winthrop School which burned in 1961.  Either way, neither she nor her ski racing kids were paying attention to signs, street names, or the driving directions provided by the race organizers, and instead were blaming their minivan's GPS for the navigational snafu.

I ask you, what good is technology if it makes us dumber?

Okay, I already hear you my friends who enjoy calling me a "neo-Luddite".  Go ahead and get it out of your systems.  I'll wait.



Truth is, you KNOW I'm not averse to all high-tech gadgetry, I just need a compelling reason to adopt it.  Is this new gadget going to enhance my life?  Am I going to live smarter with this tool?

Here's an example of a very low-tech gadget that I want to love, and just can't (yet).  I heard about this beautiful little hand-crank burr coffee grinder that Backcountry Roasters is now carrying.  It's the Camano Coffee Mill made by The Red Rooster Trading Company.  It requires no electricity, is super quiet, has adjustable grind - what's not to love?

It's slow and it requires work.  I know, I know, neo-Luddites such as myself shouldn't mind cranking a handle for a few minutes in the morning for freshly-ground coffee beans.  But I just can't see myself getting grumpier and grumpier standing there cranking away when I just want my coffee.  Yeah.  Low-tech sounds real good until you're the one grinding the beans.  There's some potent symbolism for ya, folks.

Man versus nature

Beautiful Beacon's beach

Ahhh . . . beautiful Southern California!  The beaches go on forever, and you barely even notice when the seasons change.  It's a luxurious January getaway for those of us who live in the frozen north, who fend off nature's winter assaults by relocating snow with shovels or huge machines, and burning lots of carbon-based fuels to stay warm.

Did I mention that the January sun shines warmly in San Diego? Except for when it rains, a lot, like this year, but I'll get into that in a second.

Blue skies, brown pelicans, and big bluff-top homes.

If you have plenty of money, (or you got in when the market was low) you can own real estate in a Southern California beach community.  If you are wealthy, you and your neighbors can perch your homes atop the bluff overlooking the blue Pacific ocean.  What could be better than al fresco dining on your own spacious deck above the sea?

Frank climbing the trail post surf session.

Pesky ominous sign.

Bluff-top homes with elaborate beach-access stairs

If you are the proud owner of beach-front property, why would you mess with the public beach access (as fine as it is)?  At Beacon's Beach, for example, public access comes with a long walk down a switch-backy trail, and pesky ominous signs about bluff erosion.

Naturally, the smart homeowner desires private access to the beach. People construct some pretty amazing stairways to get themselves, their kids, and their gear down to beach level.  Here are some groovy examples.

I love the rock work on this one.

Pretty slick; you can pull up the gangplank at the end of the day.

Did I mention that it has been raining a lot in SoCal this year?  Yeah.  It started in October and pretty much rained on and off for months.  This has saturated the soil, and any bits of earth that are not covered with concrete are showing signs of erosion.  Bluff slippage has been going on for years, no surprise, and homeowners have used some creative techniques to slow the inexorable forces of water and gravity.

Concrete and lots of trips to Home Depot.

Plastic sheeting - probably a stop-gap measure.

New concrete retaining walls with groundcover sandwiched between.

The neighbors went with the same builder.

Among the many pleasures of beachcombing along this stretch of shore, is acting as amateur archaeologist.  The tiny strip of cobbles and sand is filled with the artifacts of homeowners' attempts at shoring up their bits of paradise.  I'll wrap up this blog post with some photos of my peripatetic excavations.

I imagine these seemed pretty sturdy at the time.

Notice the prehistoric concrete stairs on the sand.

I'm so sorry.

Blunt about sewing

Christine hard at play

Let's face it.  As hard as my mother tried to turn me into a sewing/knitting/quilting adept (like herself), I am no more than a beginner at any of those arts.  I am, however, a periodic crafting enthusiast, and I owe it to the highly talented and persistent Christine Quickert Walsh for giving me enough skills and knowledge to tackle a project from time to time.  Thanks, Mom, and I'm certain that someday I'll be sorry I didn't transport all of your fabric, yarn, books, and equipment to my house when we were moving you out of yours.

Me appearing not-tense on the beach in Mexico

Sewing and knitting make me tense.  I love playing with all the pretty colors, designs, soft textures, and eye-catching patterns, but when it comes to physically DOING it, my fingers cramp, my eyes cross, and my shoulders  stiffen.  These crafts are also time-consuming, indoor activities which are really only appealing when the weather's truly snotty.  Therefore, the crafting months tend to be November (before ski season) and maybe March & April (before gardening season).

Laying out the blocks

So here we are. It's November, and guess who pulled her boxed-up log cabin quilt out of the garage today? Me. I actually still like it, which is a good thing considering how often I have started and stopped working on it over the years. I now have renewed enthusiasm for the quilt because Frank and I will soon be inhabiting our newly-built "surf pad" in Encinitas, CA, and obviously we'll be needing a bed covering. Frank's so sweet (and knows me so well); when I manically announced that I'm hoping to have the quilt finished in time to bring with us in December, he said, "That's great! And it doesn't have to be finished in time for our next trip. We can bring it down with us any time." That's one of many reasons why I love the man. Mr. No-pressure.

A block in progress

The log cabin quilt is going to be a beautiful thing when it's done. I love the fact that every block is different and I really get to play with the colors in it. I sew it a strip at a time, so there's no cutting of pieces, or pinning, or ironing - and I'm even quilting as I go! Don't ask me how I'm going to assemble it yet; I'll work that out once I get all the blocks sewn.