An ode to summer.

I live on the coast of the state of Washington, just a few blocks from the Pacific Ocean. The weather here is, more often than not, overcast grey and drizzly. When it is not grey and drizzly, it is grey and raining, frequently sideways. In the winter the temperatures hover in the mid-40s, and the rest of the year they average in the low 60s. Hitting 65 degrees is balmy goodness for us, and anything higher is a boon (which means I can actually wear something other than fleece). It is not like we don't have wonderfully fantastic days of sunshine, usually for a few sporadic days in March and October - and when we do, it is glorious indeed! But we also have what is affectionately called 'Faugust'; a phenomenon that occurs when rising temperatures inland collide with the cool temperature of the Pacific and cause condensation in the form of a blowing fog that socks us in. So when most are enjoying clear, sunny days, we are swimming in a soup of (albeit) warmer, grey mist. Such is life on the coast. And yes, I signed up for it.

That circumstance may be why I love summer so much. I am a native Western Washingtonian, and this area is definitely known as being frequently rainy, especially in fall, winter, and spring (!!). I am forever itching to get in the car and 'chase the sun,' which usually means at least a couple hours away from home. In contemplating this insistent need for the sunshine, I have concluded and observed that I crave the energy I get from being in the direct sun. Just waking to the sun shining in my bedroom window influences my mood and energy level. I crave the energy that comes from the glorious sun, without doubt. When I don't get enough I tend to sink into a grey pit of malaise that is hard to shake.

With that explanation, this is my ode to summer, the season I love best. I have always loved summer - the running barefoot in the grass, the bright colors of flowers, the sound of the warm breeze through the green leaves, and the smell of hot pavement. The fascination of watching water evaporate on the cement after I emerged dripping from our cheapy swimming pool as a kid, chasing after the popsicle man, and riding bikes until the sun was gone. As a young woman I loved hitting the lake with my friends, living in a swimsuit all day, and reveling in the summer festivals thronging with people. Always with the ever-present smell of coconut suntan oil in the air. I love sunglass-wearing, music-playing, cruising with the windows down, flip-flop summer fun. 

And I love boxing in the summer. All the parks are open. The trails are dry. I can stamp-in without worrying about my logbook getting dappled with rain, bringing something to put down on the ground to protect my stuff, or wrangling with an umbrella (used more for covering the logbooks than us). I don't have to wear rain gear or worry about slogging through slippery, thick mud and puddles. I don't have to get soaked and mucky digging for a box among wet trees and underbrush - it is not 'duff' around here, it is wet, mildewed moss and soggy dirt. (I am not complaining, just stating what it is like to box here from November through late February, which I still do despite the wetness.)

Boxing in summer here is fantastic. In summer all the trees are full and green. The trails are dappled with sunlight, and the birds are everywhere. I can leave my house with only one layer of clothing instead of three or more. People emerge from their houses to be more social and seem happier, taking taking time with their families to picnic, recreate, or just hang out in a park (there are definitely more muggles around in summer, for sure). Since we get so much rain in the other parts of the year, summer is our time to get outside and soak it up. And I think we do it here more than other places - I was taught that when the sun is shining, you need to take advantage of it while you can because tomorrow will be cloudy.

And that is why I love summer. I understand it is different in other parts of the country or world. I don't know how I would feel if it were 90-100 degrees everyday for months on end. I am sure I would not appreciate the not-so-fun things about summer in other places: the lack of humidity or overabundance of it, bugs, leeching critters or parasites, stagnant air and living in air-conditioning, or the sticky, stifling temperatures. I empathize with that plight, and have been known to say that some parts of the country are not 'fit for human thriving' - in some places it would seem the environment is trying to attack you when you are simply trying to cool off in a lake or hike on a trail. Seriously, I wouldn't know how to avoid snakes, spiders, ticks, fire ants, red bugs, and other biting/stinging creatures that make their home in the warmer areas of our country. So, I get it. Further, in those warmer climes, the winters can be so different from the grey, rainy winters here on the 'wet side' of Washington. Sunny, snowy days must be fantastic, and cool fall hikes must feel like heaven to those experiencing months of blistering, killing heat. I get it all, I do.

But for me, my love of summer will never fade. I lament its end and long for it to return. And I can't be the only one.

And on another note ...

 This post is not about letterboxing, but it may be useful for those especially taken with house plants.

So, as you may know, we took a month-long road trip across the country. There is so much to say about that, but it will keep for now (more posts to come!). One of the conundrums when considering leaving the house unoccupied for a month was how to keep the house plants from withering from lack of water. Well, we discovered a great DIY method, and you know what? It worked like a freakin' charm!!

this is what I found upon returning
from our road trip - happy plants!

Look closely - we positioned the plant over a bucket of water, using the lid with holes cut in it. Then we poked a cotton (doubled-over) clothesline up through the hole(s) in the pot and pulled it through to the top of the dirt. We dangled the clothesline into the water in the bucket, and voila! the clothesline wicked up water and kept the dirt in the pot at just the right moisture level! 

The clothesline was coaxed through the bottom of the pot, and
laid on top the dirt. The other end dangled out the bottom of the pot and into
the water. It wicked the water up into the soil, thus watering the plant!

All the plants, including my picky Ginseng Ficus bonsai, were watered and happy during our absence. I must admit I was a bit skeptical it would work, but really had nothing else to try. I am thrilled it worked ... and so were my plants! 

I actually had this string of pearls sitting over a smaller bucket while we were gone. It did so well I decided to continue with the wicking-cotton method; I rigged up a small container to hold the water. 

here you can see the cotton clothesline
dangling into the water

Prior to leaving, we arranged them all under one of our skylights, which I am sure, didn't hurt. No direct sunlight, but lots of light. 

So, you may want to give this a try the next time you have to leave your plant-babies unattended over scheduled watering. Just make sure you use cotton clothesline, or something similar, that readily wicks water (not plastic or poly-anything). We used cheap buckets from Ace Hardware and cut holes in the lids with a hole-cutting drill bit. The hardest (and messiest) part was running the doubled clothesline through the bottom of the pot to the top; I taped the tip to help poke it through. You can separate the clothesline into smaller strands for smaller pots/holes.

Have you had to leave your house plants for extended periods of time? What did you do to keep them watered and happy?

Happy mail.

 

about 2" x 2" on Firm Kut

I have been sending quite a bit of 'happy mail' out lately, an effort I find immensely satisfying. Happy mail is random cards sent snail-mail to elicit a smile and show you care. Who doesn't like getting snail-mail, and likewise, who doesn't need a little pick-me-up these days? 

For happy mail, I like to use the many stamps I have carved over the years. But today this little thought popped in my head - and I just had to carve it. It is the perfect sentiment to send to a boxer, don't you think?

A Glorious Winter Break!

After what seemed like the term-that-never-would-end, we packed up a day early and headed to my favorite vacation spot. Yeah, it was nasty weather, but I didn't care - I was gonna travel, darn it!!

Obimaster, Samsonite, and SHH masked up
in a rather deserted Seaside

Chillin' in Newport ... literally!

Trackin' down a box - success makes us smile!

Yep - it was as damp and chilly as it looks!

One thing I wanted to do while we were down in Newport was check out the new exhibit "Cruisin' the Fossil Coastline" at the Oregon Coast Aquarium. It did not disappoint!

The exhibit was all about an artist (Roy Troll) and paleontologist (Kirk Johnson) who traveled the west coast exploring and documenting deep time in a minivan they dubbed 'Vanibou' (complete with antlers!) - so cool!!  

The entire exhibit was fascinating and entertaining, 

but coming across this lino-cut art in the exhibit was perfect. 

And then, we hung out with the other indoor exhibits, 

like the jellies and anemones, since it was pretty cold and hail-stormy outside. 

The outside exhibits of puffins and otters will have to wait until our next visit.

We got to spend a glorious week in Newport, messin' around and hangin' out - visiting our favorite restaurants and shopping antique stores and galleries. If you are a regular reader of this blog, 

you know I LOVE the Oregon Coast.

I highly recommend
Nana's Irish Pub @ Nye Beach

And we visited this lovely LFL at the
Green Salmon coffee shop in Yachats

But then, the weather brought us back to reality. We heard rumors that it was going to snow late Christmas Day - we had originally planned to leave the day after. So we made the difficult decision to leave Christmas morning and be back home before the roads got too dangerous. We had two choices from the Oregon Coast: up and over the mountains from Astoria to Raymond or eastward along the Columbia River toward Longview-Kelso to catch I-5 northbound. We opted for the quicker (over the mountains to Raymond) and it was a good choice. I heard that it was snowier inland, so sticking closer to the coast was a good move.

view from the passenger seat
heading north on Hwy 101

It has been snowing all around the PNW ever since, even here in Ocean Shores (WA). So, we are hunkered down for the second week of winter break. Oh yes, there has been carving and creating ... but that's another post :)

Just the latest.

 Hello, my boxing friends! Hope all is well with you and yours!

I haven't had much time to indulge in my love of carving lately, but after turning in my final for this next to the last term for-ever-and-ever, I decided to spend this rainy, dreary Saturday filling my head with music while carving my heart out. Sounds delightful, huh?

As some of you may know, my guy and I installed a Little Free Library curbside, and it was (of course) suggested that I add a letterbox. Yes, that was a great idea, but I almost feel guilty for all the boxes I have planted in my little town. I am serious - if you come and box this area, you can fill a few logbook pages just with my stamps. What fun is that? And besides, I already have a rather (in)famous letterbox planted in-plain-sight on our property (please know that you DO want to come get this one, if you haven't already!). 

Well, little did I know that the little free library powers-that-be encourage 'stewards' to add a geocache to spread the word about their new libraries. A geocache??? I don't think so ... not on my property! But, perhaps I was too hasty to dismiss the idea of a letterbox.

What is different about my little free library is that it features ONLY books for kids. It is called the Kids' Book House, and I have had some very sweet donations of high-quality books to fill it with. We have gotten positive feedback from the neighbors, and I am hopeful that as the weather turns the corner back toward the warm sun, mommas, daddys, and grands will bring their littles to choose books to read together.

Stamp is 3"x 2" and carved on Tan-Z. 

So, this box will go live soon ... watch AQ for more details. And there may be a hint to that other special box, as well. Shoot, why not make plans to come on out to Ocean Shores and spend the day explorin' the Shores? Hit the beach, grab an ice cream, find all the boxes, and maybe even ride a go-cart! And, bring your littles by the Kids' Book House to choose a book or few to read on the way home! 

As an aside, I did carve another stamp recently - it's of a photograph I took of my beloved daisies at the end of their glorious run this last summer. I just couldn't resist ...

Carved on Tan-Z, stamp is just under 2" across.

That stamp stays right on my desk to adorn anything that needs a little sunshine added. :)

Well, y'all - wish me luck as I start my capstone class in a couple of weeks. After I graduate, I guess I will need to get a job or something ... haha!

Happy Holidays!

A Walk in the Garden.

My training tells me to be aware of my surroundings, and that everything changes. Hours of meditation have shown me that feelings pass and that nothing, not even me, stays the same. My years of study have convinced me that it is my expectations of how things should be, and my attachment to those expectations, that cause me suffering. Yet, I still find it hard not to get upset, voice my opinion, and judge when my expectations are not realized. 

I have found the AQ boards quite distressing - don't get me wrong, not all posts are argumentative and pushy. Most are wonderfully sweet, friendly, and creative - these posts highlight the part of the letterboxing community I love. But some posts reveal our opinionated, judgmental, divisive side (some just this side of 'rude') and it really drains my enthusiasm and sense of connection to the community. It shows me just how fragile that connection truly is. And that is the distressing part. But, I have my practice. Thankfully.

It is my choice to ignore some social media. I suspect we all have used this method to retain our sanity once or twice during the last five years or so. I had hoped it wouldn't be so on AQ, but *shrug* - it seems the way of things at this point in history. I love AQ, and always have, but I am grateful that I can ignore some aspects, including certain persistently argumentative boards. As the memes say, "I don't need that kind of negativity in my life." I choose to step away, go out to my garden, and take a breath. A well needed, mindful break. And so it is.

Care to take a walk in the garden with me? It is lovely and peaceful in the early summer. It is not letterboxing or carving, but it is green and beautiful. And, if you really wanted to letterbox, there is one very close by ... 

Welcome to our Garden

This is the best swing ever.
And that bird feeder contraption
is our squirrel and rodent fix :)
Eventually, that paper-bark maple will
be lovely for the birds.

The newest addition - the side garden;
there's a story there, but for another time.
Pinky keeps watch.

outside my office window
that looks out towards the water

Some bonsai and maples -
so much love for my other hobby

More bonsai - well, not the maple, it's just a baby.
The one closest was a rescue ... hopefully it will make it.

We eat many summer dinners here and watch the sunset.

I bought these sweet statues of the seasons decades ago
to share with my Mother. She had two and I had two.
Now, in a way, we are together here.

The firepit, "where friends and marshmallows enjoy
getting toasted" ... or something like that :)

The rock garden. When we bought the house,
it was billed as a 'water feature', and maybe it was once, 
but it was defunct, a derelict pile of rocks.
So I designed a rock garden
with a 'fern grotto' off to the left.

As in any garden, there are special places.
This is Solly's corner with a couple of cat friends and
a nearby tree-frog to keep him company in his eternal rest.

R2 keeps an eye on things -
the lavender is just about to bloom

Throughout the garden there are the most lovely
painted mandala rocks, some big, some small -  
it's Samsonite's other hobby and we all benefit. 

Don't mind the muddy footprints ...
just sit with me and watch the carp surface in the canal
while we listen to the birds

From many perspectives, our lives, like the garden, are a continual work-in-progress. 

This is important to remember when I get upset at social media, 

even my beloved AQ.

Resurrecting old treasures.

 

SHH's Birdhouse

yes, that's right - X Marks the Spot
is definitely a famous letterboxer!

Tribute.

 

Carved with a Staedtler gouge on PZ Kut

It has been a bit over ten years ago that I carved this stamp of my mother when she passed. The sting of her unexpected passing has dulled with the years - so much has happened since she and I last spoke. I like to think that the last thing I said to her was I love you. Frankly, I am glad both my parents are not here to witness this pandemic and current political climate; I am sure it would have distressed them both deeply. They had enough trauma in their lives, as it was (but, that's another story). Anyway, last week marked 77 years since she was born.

Portraits, along with lettering, were always my favorites to carve. And, I learned a few things from the many I have carved:

1. Don't carve teeth - they never look realistic. Smiling portraits are the hardest, in my view, because you must deal with teeth and the lips. The trick is to think about where the light is hitting.

2. Hair is trickier than you think. 

3. Keep clothing details to a minimum - the face is the focal point, not what they are wearing.

4. I do not carve wrinkles - they will always be more prominent than you would like.

5. It is the carver's (and photographer's) responsibility to make the subject look good. Unless, of course, you want them to look a certain way, but you know what I mean.

6. Noses - less is more. I still think I over-emphasized the nose in Mom's portrait. I might do it differently today.

I always liked the idea of a portrait as a sig-stamp. Coming back to carving, I challenged myself to create a new portrait stamp. I quickly remembered all the things I listed above!

Carved with Flexcut tools on Firm Kut

Notice I didn't do anything with the teeth in this one, but the nose is more realistic. My hair is not quite that wavy, either. Sure enough, this carve is not perfect. But it was good practice. :) 

Prior to my mother's death, I immortalized one of the things she told me often:

Every time I write anything, I think of this. We all carry little bits of wisdom, and I suspect she learned this lesson the hard way. It has never stopped me from writing what is on my heart, but the reality of it has sometimes been not so pleasant.

So, happy birthday Mom. I still miss you deeply. 

While I was last out on the trail, I was thinking about what I would say if I had one more chance to speak with her. Would I tell her that she was right about so many things? How thankful I am to have Chuck in my life? How ironic it is that I live on the coast? All the wonderful things her grandchildren have accomplished and what amazing adults they have become? Maybe. But I think the better choice would be to just sit quietly and enjoy her presence one more time.

***

Postscript: Last week it was fitting to go find a traditional box I had planted around Mother's Day as a tribute to my mother about four years before her death. She loved to spend Mother's Day at a local park with her grandchildren, so I planted the box there. Amazingly, it is still there. 

I used an old VHS plastic case covered in camo-tape. Nope, it doesn't keep water out - that is what the zip-bags are for! Everything was well and good, I am happy to report! Perhaps it is still alive because it has not gotten many visitors - one finder noted it had sat unvisited for 7 years - that's a long time! I like to think it would make my mother smile.

Lost and Found

When I started carving, I didn't even think about saving my images for history sake. But it wasn't too long into the journey that I started a logbook to record all my carving success. They were always a source of inspiration and fun to look through every once in a while - to remember where I had been and what I had done.

As you know, I have been working at getting myself reestablished for carving and creating. In the effort, I realized I had misplaced those carving logs. To think I had lost them, (or worse, gotten rid of them), made my heart hurt. I looked for a couple of days only to come up empty-handed and frustrated.

But, this morning, my beloved found them stashed in his office for 'safe keeping.' I am sure I put them there, but just didn't remember. I am so grateful to have them back at my fingertips. Looking through page after page of images gives me hope - if I did it once, I can do it again! I must admit, I am a bit rusty. 

Maybe you would like to see some of the pages from the first log...

That super yard sale stamp is about 5" across - as you can imagine, the more I carved, the smaller the stamps and details would become. And yes, this was back when finding fantastic carving material and tools was not an issue. We didn't know how good we had it!

I wonder about those Nat'l Day of Planting stamps - as I remember, they were for the country-wide event, and it says 'first annual,' but I am not sure if it is what evolved into what is called PAL today. The stamps are cool - I wonder if they are still in my pile-o-stamps - I guess I will know when I take the time to go through them all! 

So, I leave you with a slice of pleasure. Back in the day, after the family was well asleep, I spent many a night carving with with only my thoughts and music as company. Last night I had the opportunity to find that space again. It made me realize how much I have changed, and how much of me has remained the same. 

Much to ponder. Meditate on it, I will.