THE DUST WILL WAIT

The drive between Reno, Nevada and Sacramento, California spans a beautiful pass through the Sierra Nevada mountain range. The rocks hang over the edges of cliffs, waiting for the winter freeze to loosen their hold, and summer’s heat to bust them loose to slide down to the freeway. Some of their precarious positions worried me. However, it was really other motorists that posed the perils on the last leg of our journey. Three of those drivers moved in and out of our company as we simultaneously viewed the sights and their poor driving exhibitions. Little Subaru took up residence in the left lane, maintaining the same speed as the car to its right, holding up both lanes of traffic. Ms. Continental abstained from cruise control, but kept her motor mouth engaged. She passed us going 90, and then braked abruptly and rode flush on the bumper of Little Subaru. She pulled into the right lane and tried to bully the other driver as well. (Earlier, she showed her true colors by pulling out from b

Two hours into our road trip, a highway patrol passed us on a mountain curve. Three curves later we caught up with him before he even exited his car. It was early. I prayed that the driver was alive inside of there and not under the influence .The very first rest stop employed a congress of ravens. I took a picture so that Robin of Pensive would notice that they have a bump on their beaks. Whereas Crows are happy to congregate most anyway, including inside the city limits, Ravens prefer the country. Ravens can be as large as some hawks. When I encounter a Raven, I think of Edgar Allen Poe. Once upon a midnight dreary. Eastern Oregon. So much different than the green picturesque Oregon coast that Shelly Dupree speak s of with such longing and desire. I drove highway 95 (a two lane highway) from Ontario Oregon to Winnemucka, Nevada . There wasn't much between me and the open spaces except a few barbed wire fences. Once, after about a 20 miles straight stretch the road curved slightl

Thank you Jammin' and Buttercup for my very special treat in the mail today.

The hubby's project this summer: Create a small pond next to the house and a creek that trickles beneath the bridge and into the larger pond. Build a deck next to the larger pond on which we can set a table and umbrella. Lay a cobblestone walk from the patio to the side of the house. The summer was busy and continues to stretch him in 100 ways. However, his goal is nearly accomplished. Just a few finishing touches. In the meantime I enjoy the little babbling brook, the water flora, and my coffee each morning.

TheOtherBear is hosting today and she's asking for an awful lot. She looks quite HOLY and we all know what she is wearing under the Robe. She has convinced me and I'm laying it all down, folks. I need forgiveness. ..................... I was fourteen. I was shy. (Oops, that’s another little white lie.) There were two wonderful things I was looking forward to that fall: The annual Fair in Puyallup , and my first year in high school. Like most kids heading into high school I'm sure I thought I was ALL THAT and more. My best friend moved to another town, but she was coming back to stay with me and go to THE FAIR. We had plans. Yeah.. the fair had scones with strawberry preserves, hamburgers that we ordered without onions, cotton candy, and snow cones. There were carnival rides and games. There were even rodeo events and display booths that could occupy us for hours. However, they didn't. CUZ...we were lookin' for guys. We KNEW they were lookin' for

I suspected all along that they were out there. When I awake with the first sunbeams through the Maple trees, I sometimes hear the distant whistle of a teensy tea kettle somewhere in the honeysuckle. If I peak cautiously through the window shades, a flash of color disappears beneath the rosebush. Those leaves shape into fine little tubs to catch the spray from the sprinklers. Maybe the older ones enjoy a nice soak. The rest of them are familiar with the watering schedule and most likely take pleasure in a brisk but satisfying shower. While weeding beneath the Viburnum I hear them talking; I recognize the sound, but you might mistake it for crickets. My innocent smile denotes my pleasure in the cadence but does not alert them to my clever discernment. Sometimes it is frustrating to reach for what appears to be a perfect tomato, only to discover that they drilled into it during the night and hollowed out the ripened flesh. Nothing in my garde

I've been busy and distracted - some bad distractions and some wonderful distractions. The unfortunate side effect no time to write or to water color. And it's going to get even busier for awhile. We plan on heading south soon to see our new grandson Dinkum. See his picture in previous post. Tonight as we ate dinner on the patio we enjoyed the hummingbirds. There were three or four of them buzzing around. We have several feeders close by. The light was fading fast. I took one photo using auto focus, but it was too dark. My camera can be adjusted to let in more light, but by the time I could find my glasses and the instructions it would have been midnight. So, I tried one with a flash. That little fellow was certainly surprised! Our water hyacinth bloomed for the very first time. It is beautiful. Curlymop came for a very short visit. She was beautiful, too.

So my middle daughter says, of her son born at noon today. 7 pounds 5 ounces. he's got All his fingers, all his toes. His mommy's eyes, and his daddy's nose grandma's smile, and grandpa's hair but grandpa's head is nearly bare! Welcome... uh... I think I'm going to call him Dinkum.

Beckie from Give it A Try, One Day at a Time hosts today's Fun Monday. She wants to see our favorite treats. I love whole wheat fruit bars so much that I often have cravings for them. The ones pictured here are raspberry filled. Other fruit choices are strawberry, blueberry, fig, apricot -- you get the idea. They are packaged and sold under a locally owned market brand. I'm sure the "Whole Wheat" thing is just a gimmick to make me think I'm eating something that is good for me. It worked. I'm hooked. The other thing I truly love is chocolate. While driving in Seattle this weekend I snapped this bumper sticker on a chocolate lovers side window. That pretty much sums it up. Check in at Beckie's to see other's favorite indulgence.

are much closer then they appear. See! I took this one through the back window. It's definitely closer!

My accidental photograph magically transformed into fantasy by "The Artist Formerly Known as Purple Worms." You meet incredibly talented people in blog land.

Written by my late father (1900-1977) Part 1 of my father's short journal told about the depression and his experiences in California . Part 2 narrated a satisfying 5 weeks living off the fat of the land on a self sufficient farm in Southern Oregon . Befriended by a Hop grower in Part 3 , he was hired as a chauffeur and then offered a job in the hop fields. Dad described his first impression of life on in a Hop Yard in Part 4 . His high hopes of continuing the easy chauffeur type duties were doused by a hard dose of manual labor. The teasing by his fellow crew members and the young Russian beauties are not mentioned again. I think this says much about his discretion; Dad didn't kiss and tell. Part 5 describes a Hop Yard in the 1930's with detail - just in case you wonder where your beer has its earthy beginnings. Dad became the nozzle man on the spraying crew and a raise in pay. Nora, the bosses daughter, eloped in Part 6 . He didn't suggest it in any way, bu

Click to enlarge for sky reflection in hummingbird feeder Not what I was aiming for, but I'll take the credit. (Yes, I was on the trail of a hummer and it buzzed out range before my shutter snapped)

Ms Cellania (ChrisB) is hosting today's Fun Monday. Her quest: I would like you to 'show your aprons' it can be your favourite or an unusual one or more than one. Be creative as you like; and secondly if, like me, you have lots of 'tea towels' that are brand new (or could be an old favourite) I would like to see those as well and hear the story behind the picture- was it a gift from a holiday, a present from auntie that you only use when she visits etc........... I forget to wear an apron. I have a few hidden somewhere. Usually I splash spaghetti sauc e on my favorite white blouse before I remember. Or, while adding mustard to the potato salad, the container burps a dollop on my tan slacks. After those type of events you would think that grabbing an apron would be my first course of business upon entering the kitchen. My mom was more concerned and always donned hers. Mom’s apron was forever damp from leaning over the sink or the stove.

I don't think our kids know what an apron is. The principal use of Grandma's apron was to protect the dress underneath, but along with that, it served as a potholder for removing hot pans from the oven. It was wonderful for drying children's tears, and on occasion was even used for cleaning out dirty ears. From the chicken coop, the apron was used for carrying eggs, fussy chicks, and sometimes half-hatched eggs to be finished in the warming oven. When company came, those aprons were ideal hiding places for shy kids. And when the weather was cold, grandma wrapped it around her arms. Those big old aprons wiped many a perspiring brow, bent over the hot wood stove. Chips and kindling wood were brought into the kitchen in that apron. From the garden, it carried all sorts of vegetables. After the peas had been shelled, it carried out the hulls. In the fall, the apron was used to bring in apples that had fallen from the trees. When unexpected company drove up the road, it was surp

Sub Adult Rufous Hummingbird This morning I digitally captured him as he waited on a twig of the Cistena plum... waiting to chase away the other hummingbirds that dare to intrude upon his territory.

My neighbor Bill is in his mid eighties. He spends most of his days gardening accompanied by his trusty dog Allie. The other morning as I left for work he beckoned to me. "Would you mind taking a picture of me with my sunflowers?" He asked. " I want to send them to my kids so they can see how big they grew this year." Bill in his garden knee pads and gloves . To his right and out of view there were some not quite as tall, but so large that the stalk could no longer bear the weight. This enormous head was bowing to the earth in heavy seed. It won't be long before the finch will invade his garden in a feeding frenzy of song and winged acrobatics. This flower was at least one foot across. That evening we drove about 17 miles out of town where I noticed the moon rising above the golden wheat fields and the mountain foothills. And it's only just a reflection!

The Perfect Post Award is not a prize. It is a monthly opportunity to honor someone whose post made you laugh, cry, believe in magic, or think for a long, long time. Stories driven by the simple events in the every day lives of my blogging friends draw me. The charming tale I chose to highlight today is no exception. Susie Q !! Please accept my nomination for a July Perfect Post: M'lady's Tea Party . I invite all of you to hop over to ~Rabbit Run Cottage~ and read the delightful narration and view the accompanying photographs. What could be more fun than a little girl's tea with dogs, cats, hats, and ker-splats? Although brief, it will lift your spirits and brighten your day. Visit Lindsay and MommaK where the entire list of this months nominees are posted.