Bringing Autumn Indoors

Our little family adores a local pumpkin patch that resides on an island. Annually, we make our way to the opposite end of town to this quiet farming community, where we enjoy a hayride out to the pumpkin patch, picking pumpkins, visiting the livestock, climbing on hay bales, and shopping in their local store for fruits and veggies straight from the garden.

This year's first attempt was on a perfect fall day ... temps in the low 60s and a clear blue sky. As is par for the course in a region that rains a lot ... everyone had decided to make the same trip. As we sat in traffic, and watched the little cars off in the distance inching their way across the two-lane bridge and down the two-lane road leading to the pumpkin patch, we realized it was probably time to turn around. We had been in the car for nearly an hour, and estimated an additional two hours to inch our way there.

The following weekend, plans were made once again ... and, this time, it poured ... and poured! Sure, there would be no crowds ... but it wasn't really the experience we were going for.

Maybe we'll have a successful trip this coming weekend ... or maybe not! I'm learning to 'go with the flow' a bit more these days.

In the mean time, we've brought autumn inside the house.


My sweet friend, Kelli, owns a wonderful Real Deals on Home Decor store. She was having a sale; and, we, being small business owners ourselves, had to go support our fellow small business owner!

Look at the gorgeous pumpkins we found. And, those beautiful oak leaves. The turning colors of the leaves are my favorite part of autumn outdoors ... why not bring them inside (without the mess once they turn crispy and crumble all over the floor!).

And, how can you resist children's art ... doesn't it just make you smile?

Do you decorate your indoors for autumn or Halloween?

Autumn Brings ...

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~ A rich, warm color scheme to the porch and patio ~

~ A bee frantically working on late-blooming asters ~

~ A tiny frog protecting the remnants of the garden ...

including a pumpkin that may or may not be ready for Halloween ~

For My Grandpa

I was fairly convinced my Grandpa Don would live to the grand age of 100. My son, just days ago and out of the blue, prayed that his Great-Grandpa would live to claim that century-old mark.

He had struggled over the past few years. Throughout his lifetime, he was an avid walker … literally logging multiple miles per day well into his 80s. When his legs started getting weaker and tripping became more common, he reluctantly gave up his outdoor walks and purchased a treadmill. Eventually, even that became too much for his legs.

This last July, he turned 94. In the days before that life achievement, he had reluctantly moved into a retirement home, selling the house that he had built with his wife and lived in for 60 years. My Grandma passed away 18 years of days ago. He missed her terribly every one of those days. I suspect he stayed in that house for so long because so many memories of grandma still existed there.

He was a sweet, kind, generous, wise, and unassuming man. His smile lit up his face. He adored and admired each and every one of his 3 daughters and sons-in law, 11 grandchildren and their spouses, and 24 (and counting) great-grandchildren.

For several summers in a row, in my pre-teen years, he and grandma would take my sister, Heidi, and I on long road trips, fifth-wheel trailer in tow, visiting wonderful sites in the western United States and Canada. To this day, they are some of my fondest memories of Grandpa. And, they were his too. Being in his 90s seemed to make those memories even sharper for him, and he would ask, “Kelly, do you remember the trips we used to take?” And, then, we would proceed to laugh about the time we saw the baby bear in a campground, or the time we waited out a tornado warning, or our regular requests from Grandma for ‘just a smidge’ of ice cream … which was code for ‘lots of ice cream in a huge bowl’.

When I picked up my daughter from school today, I told her that her great-grandpa Don had gone to heaven this morning. “That makes me so sad,” she said softly, but then pepped up when we started talking about him being in heaven with the Grandma she never knew.

As we were driving to daycare, she asked, “Mommy, are you crying?” “Yes, sweetie … Mommy’s a little sad right now,” I responded. “Would you like a hug when we get to Judy’s (daycare)?” she asked gently. “Yes, that would be very nice,” I said with a smile.

Both my children adored their Grandpa Don. My daughter, though, had an amazing connection with him that started when she was just a toddler. She seemed to gravitate to him … wanting to be near him … even in the midst of Christmas gifts and cousins, she always made her way to where he was sitting, either to help him unwrap a gift or sit on his lap.

One of their last memories of him will be when we visited his new apartment at the retirement home. My son thought the miniature version of a house that Grandpa was now living in was so very cool. And, my daughter got the pleasure of riding on the seat of Great-Grandpa’s walker as he pushed her around the first floor of the building.

I am thankful for the time my children had with him.

I am thankful for the time my husband knew him … he adored my husband.

I am thankful for all the wonderful memories I have of him.

I am thankful he lived a long, mostly healthy 94 years. I am sad that it ended with a fall that injured his head and brain in a way that he couldn’t recover. I am sad that he was in pain during his last couple days. But, I am thankful that the pain didn’t last any longer.

I am sad that he is not here on earth with us anymore. But, I am thankful that he is now in heaven, enjoying a beautiful, long-awaited reunion with his beloved wife.

I will miss him terribly.

Summer Into Fall

I adore autumn. There is something about the crisp, coolness of the air, the vivid leaf colors, the comforting smells of cinnamon and spice, and the anticipation of the upcoming holidays that has always won autumn the title of 'favorite season' for me.

One of my favorite signals that fall is approaching are our Crape Myrtles. They are gorgeous year-round, whether it be their leaves or their bark, but ... from late summer into fall, they are stunning show-stoppers.

As the rest of the garden is withering into a state of brownness, these beautiful plants are in their prime, with an eye-catching show of berry-like buds that transform into colorful, popcorn-like blooms.

In my opinion, they are a perfectly cheerful way to close out the summer months and add an additional pop of unexpected color in the fall. And, really ... who couldn't use that?!

~ Happy Autumn ~

Swift

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An amazing display at sunset.

The Vaux's Swift birds migrate south each fall. The chimney of Chapman School in North Portland has been their chosen September roosting place since the 1980s. Each night, at sunset, thousands of the little birds make their way into the chimney to rest for the night.

Last night's display featured a predator ... knowing the sun was setting, waiting atop the chimney for its prey. After seemingly watching from above and waiting for the predator to leave, one little swift succumbed to the much bigger bird, so that his friends could make their way into the chimney for a night of rest.

As their name would imply, they are quite the little aerialists ... always in constant, swirling motion. At times, their flight patterns seemed to take on the shape of cylinders, as they prepared to dive into the chimney. Controlled and chaotic, all at once. Another miracle of nature.

At the Coast ...

~ We relax and enjoy ~

~ Hope you are enjoying the last 'official' days of summer ~

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A Gem of a Book

I got very lucky. When she released "The Heart is Not a Size" earlier this year, National Book Award nominee Beth Kephart held a contest, with the winners receiving a copy of her book. I was thrilled to be one of the winners of my dear blog friend's newest release.

I adore Beth ... her blog posts are always interesting, enchanting, and thoughtful; and she strikes me as being gracious and warm, funny and brilliant. I am always drawn in by the way she describes scenes and people and situations.

"The Heart Is Not a Size" was no exception.

As I read this beautiful story, I was awestruck by the poetic nature of Beth's writing. I was constantly marveling at her descriptions. I couldn't help pausing on numerous occasions, thinking to myself, "how in the world did she come up with that way to say it?!" Such as one scene where the main characters exit a stable, and she writes, "When we reached that place where the shadows were intersected by the sun...". It doesn't feel forced, as if she's trying to impress the reader ... it feels perfectly effortless and elegant ... just like Beth herself.

Today, Beth celebrates the release of her 12th book (WOW!!), "Dangerous Neighbors". Stop by her blog at Beth Kephart Books to celebrate with her. Congratulations, Beth!

Summer Memories

Don't you just love it when a sound or smell or taste transports you back to a wonderful childhood memory?

We traveled to Eastern Washington last weekend to celebrate a couple family birthdays. While there, it quickly became apparent - as the distant sound of turbine engines made its way from the river all the way up the hill to where we were staying - that the hydros were in town!

As a child, I lived in a neighborhood that sat just off a street that had a perfect bird's eye view of the river. In the week leading up to Sunday's big race day, every time I would hear the hydroplane engines fire up, I would run, walk, or ride my bike down to the street, and perch myself on the sidewalk corner to watch as the boats tweaked and tested and practiced on the river, in preparation for race day. I would scan the newspaper, looking for any article regarding the boats and drivers and then committing the information to memory.

Then came race day, and the annual BBQ at my house. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins would descend upon our home for food and race-watching. One of my favorite dishes during those BBQs was as simple as they come ... garden-fresh cucumbers, Walla Walla Sweet onions, rice vinegar, salt, and ice all mixed together.

This past weekend, before leaving town on Sunday, we headed to my old stomping grounds and were able to catch two race heats. I felt like a kid again ... except that I knew nothing of most of the boats and drivers, like I used to! And, I didn't have the cukes & onions on-hand ... though, that was fixed after we returned home! :-)

Hope your summer is sparking wonderful memories as well.

Sweetness is ...

A 4-year old 'coordinating' a cancer walk!

"Let's go on a cancer walk!" said our daughter last night, as we prepared for our nightly walk around the neighborhood. ('Cancer Walks' are what we call the walks we do each year to raise money to find a cure for breast cancer.) She urged us all to wear our matching pink American Cancer Society t-shirts ... and, we obliged. With urgency, she then ran to get her 'Cancer Walk' bear, so he came along too!

And ....

An 8-year old hoping that the Chocolate Mint plant in our back yard will yield ... what else ... chocolate mints!


"Has that plant got any chocolate mints on it yet?" asked our son. I had to double-check that he wasn't pulling my leg ... but, he was nothing but serious. And, very disappointed when I told him that, unfortunately, it didn't grow chocolate mint candies. I must admit ... that would be cool!

Some trivia ... did you know that mint plants have square stems,
rather than the typical round stem that most plants have?

Good Things Await

Waiting. For me, it is one of the hardest parts of the writing profession. Not just waiting for any response ... waiting for a positive response! So, I'm turning to the outdoors for a little lesson in enjoying and appreciating the wait. Granted, my garden provides a much more colorful and interesting perspective on waiting than my e-mail in-box and mailbox. Daily, there are beautiful berries needing to be monitored for ripeness and new blooms opening on the hydrangeas. Soon, the backyard will be bursting with color. It's easy to see that good things await ... and I'm certain that will be the case for the writing as well.

Phil Collins' Affect on Grocery Shopping ... An Extremely Informal Study

Not long ago, I was at the grocery store when Phil Collins' "You Can't Hurry Love" came blaring across the store speakers. I couldn't help but sing - out loud but discreetly - with the music, after quickly glancing to see if anyone else was in the aisle with me.

I stopped singing as I turned to go into the next aisle, only to discover the person in that aisle singing out loud, right along with Phil. I grinned as I passed that individual; and, then, chuckled out loud as I turned into the produce section to find an employee bopping up and down to the beat of the music. Before the song ended, I passed one more person swaying their head and shoulders to the catchy tune.

To my knowledge, none of them saw me or had the slightest inkling that I was secretly marveling at the fact that one song had just put four people in a very similar, happy, upbeat place. It may have only lasted three minutes, but we all had something in common during those brief moments.

Music is powerful ... it can bring people together; but it can also evoke a whole spectrum of emotions based on your time and place in life. A tune that one considers happy; another may consider sad. Lyrics that stir up longing in one person; may bring contentment to another. A beat that makes one person feel the need to dance; may make another person feel the need to sit.

I often think of Steven Curtis Chapman, who was inspired to write the beautiful song, "Cinderella", as he marveled at how quickly his oldest daughter had grown up. In the blink of an eye, it seemed, she was graduating from college and getting engaged. And, how the meaning of those lyrics changed so drastically and instantly for him with the tragic death of his youngest daughter. One song, one person ... with the words "she'll be gone" taking on a devastatingly different meaning.

Music, at its best, tells a story and pulls us in. We may be inspired by the beat, mesmerized by the tune, or drawn to the words.

As for Phil, he speaks the truth ... you simply can't hurry love; and, as it turns out, the tune through which he expresses that message really helps to kick the grocery-shopping experience up a notch!

Enjoy ... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K3TesujRfpY

Rain, Rain Go Away ...

In the midst of the coldest May on record in 10 years; and the wettest May on record in 5 years ... nature comes through for us, with beautiful signs of spring. I love looking out the window and seeing these bursts of color amongst the wet and gray:




























Don't get me wrong ... I appreciate the beauty that is the end-product of all the rain. But, sometimes, enough is enough.

The weather pros are predicting the possibility of a dry holiday weekend. That would be a welcome change indeed!

Wishing you a wonderful, safe, and relaxing Memorial Day weekend.

Idea Brainstorming with Budding Young Authors!

A few weeks ago, I shared a post about a presentation I made to a group of talented Young Authors and Illustrators, ranging in age from 1st grade to 8th grade.

Today, I got to do some hands-on work with a group of 20 first and second graders. What enthusiastic learners they were! We did an idea-brainstorming session. I had them close their eyes and put their heads down on their desks (asking them to promise not to fall asleep! :-)) while I went through a series of topics ... favorite foods, icky foods, travels, people, pets, buildings, heroics, sports, holidays, buildings. I want to them to hang on to one personal memory that 'jumped' into their mind as I read through the list of topics.

When they opened their eyes, they had to quickly write down the one memory that stuck in their mind. Then, we did a free-write about that memory. It could be all true; or, it could be truth sprinkled with fiction. It didn't have to be perfect ... that's what editing is for. I just wanted them to write.

And, ohhh, the ideas they had! As they each shared what they had written, we picked out the main character (and even secondary characters!), plot twists, themes, setting, and descriptive words.

But, truly ... I'm not sure they need my help. See the illustrations here? They are from my son's Young Authors' book submission, "The Case of the Missing Hitch".

My son is into trucks, trailers, the hitches that connect the two together, and ... dogs! His story combines those loves within a mystery format. The story is adorable, and the illustrations put my attempts to be artistic to shame! In the second picture, the dog is sitting on his dog bed in the trailer with the missing hitch (note the red item to the left of the dog ... I love that the trailer has a dishwasher!).

The classes of 2020 and 2021 hold the promise of some talented writers. I'm looking forward to reading their published words some day!

Deep Water

It’s a love-hate relationship.

Vast bodies of water are one of my absolute favorite experiences. The power of an endless, roaring ocean; the inspiring sight of a sparkling blue lake; water so still it provides a mirror-perfect reflection of trees and mountains or touched by the wind to create ripples and whitecaps; ferries carrying their precious cargo; boats lining a marina. So much for the senses to take in.

Funny, how I have fear of the very thing I am drawn to. I am interested in looking at it; in being on top of it. I have little desire to be in it or under it.

While my husband snorkeled in Maui; I floated along the top of the water, dipping my head in every so often to take a picture of him. I’ve always considered breathing underwater to be a thing best left for fish! Water skiing was cause for internal struggle. The skiing part was exhilarating; but my delight was tempered by having to begin and end in the deep, dark water.

Thankfully, on numerous occasions, a love for adventure and desire to challenge myself has prevailed over my fear. A trip to picturesque Orcas Island, part of the San Juan Islands of Washington, was host to one such occasion. When visiting Orcas, a popular thing to do is go sea kayaking in the Puget Sound.

Let’s take just a moment to analyze these two words:

Sea = deep, vast water; animals swimming amongst and beneath, including whales.
Kayaking = self-propelled human travel via a narrow, canoe-like, tippable boat, using an oar.

Our trip began with a lesson in how to maneuver the kayak and handle a possible tip. The very mention of which caused a combination of heart palpitations and nervous goosebumps. We were led to believe that, if our kayak were to tip over, we could perform a kayak roll using a swift lift-of-the-torso-hip-flicking-paddle-pushing action. I was fairly certain, though I didn’t share this with the guide or my husband, that – if I were upside down in the sea in a kayak – I would be spending more time figuring out how to get my lower half loose from the skirt attaching me to the kayak, and less time perfecting the roll technique.

Thankfully, neither method was put to the test.

As we floated away from the dock, getting a feel for how to propel and steer the vessel with our paddles and realizing the kayak was more stable than expected, the pounding in my chest slowed.

The sights and sounds surrounding us were stunning: water gently lapping against the kayak, hills of evergreens, snow-capped mountains, and blue sky mottled with cotton-ball clouds. It was peaceful, exhilarating, and the fact that I was playing a part in making the kayak move forward and turn filled me with a sense of strength.

As our group paddled out to the open sea, seals poked their heads out of the water to watch as we paddled through their space. A sea plane descended from the sky, landing effortlessly on the water. And, much larger vessels glided by, causing ripples that created a mini-roller coaster sensation for us kayakers. Unfortunately, though … no Orca whales were spotted. We would see them frolicking in the water at another time and place.

When the day was done, I was filled with energy and passion for the sport. My husband and I even discussed the possibility of purchasing a kayak to use on the river back home. Of course, those dreams were tempered by the reality of an apartment balcony that could not accommodate a large kayak and the realization that our visits to the river would likely be few and far between.

The kayak was not the important thing, though … it was the exhilarating feeling of a fear overcome. It’s still not my preference to be in the deep water. But I learned that, sometimes, the deepest water can bring the greatest joy.