Pics Fort Worden

Oh sure, here they don't look scary. But that is the flash illuminating every nook and cranny. Humans were not made to feel comfortable in pitch black subterranean cold places. The last picture you can barely make out the battery in the background. These are the larger walkways you can go through. There are also ones that are just the width of a human body.

Port Townsend Fort Worden

Images: 1. Battery Walker. Courtesy www.callipygia600.com

2. Mild-looking-during-the-daytime battery www.usforting.com

For my birthday we traveled north 35 minutes to the Victorian seaport Port Townsend. Fort Worden has large homes (former officers houses, NCO houses, and barracks) that you can rent. I gathered a big bunch of folks and we moved into a former barrack with 11 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms, giant dining room, which came with everything you could need in a kitchen including 4 coffee pots and two fridges and stoves. I was in heaven. The purpose of this was to go through the batteries at night. This park (and Fort Flagler and Fort.... hmmm the other one) all protected the entrance to Puget Sound during WWI and WWII. The military has long moved out of these (1950's for Fort Worden) What is left is the cement batteries that held the cannons and the large artillery. Former radio buildings. A giant empty underground water tank. Without windows or wood doors they seem like an ancient ruin of some sort except they are still fully intact. During the day you need a flashlight to go through them, at night they are positively eerie. There are narrow passageways, giant steel doors that squeek and clang and of course, friends that run screaming through them. Or silently hiding in corners waiting to scare the piss out of you. I considered buying a bag of "Depends" for myself. I more need it for laughter (terror-filled) than fear based expulsions of fluids. I usually cannot stop laughing through this. We did it once before five years ago, but that was just with gal pals. The stories we amassed during that trek are priceless, and I am beginning to wonder if we have started embellishing them a bit. I can't wait to hear those stories when we are all 80. I am sure their relation to the reality of the moment of 2005 will be loose. But they will be dang good stories!

History - Seattle Totem or Story Poles

Since I have not been posting with pics since I keep freezing my camera by leaving it in the car I am not currently driving and have a bunch of work photos on there anyway I thought I could cheat and treat you to a bit of history.

The unpainted story pole standing in the pic to the right while the fellow is strapping down a painted totem pole is the first pole EVER in Seattle that tells the story of Seattle. Installed in 2007, and carved by a member of the currently federally unrecognized Duwamish tribe.

Chief Seattle lived in the Duwamish River area, and his mother was duwamish. Unrecognized tribe? A major city is named after a respected indigenous leader of whom some of his descendents are unrecognized by the federal gov't as being duwamish? There is a whole lotta conversation to be had on this, as in, who decides 'what' you are? (i know i am in trouble for using this terminology, ms. facci.) How about you are what you are. If you are born to it, if you are raised it, why would that be contested. Why would someone else define your family of origin whether you are born into it, adopted, extended or married. I am fairly sure we are still a free-choice culture. I notice when money, fiscal rewards or property/casino/fishing rights get involved a whole lot more people have an opinion. Ok, done with my wee venting action.

A story pole differs from a totem pole in that from bottom to top it tells a story of something. A totem is just that, totemic figures/symbols representing a community or tribe.

-The replaced horizontal totem pole that is being strapped down was bug chewed and moved away to the local community museum.

The vertical postcard of the single pole and the Seattle city skyline captures an image of the first totem pole ever placed at this park. This photo looks like a 1950's Seattle. This particular totem pole was created for the tourist trade in the early 1900's. The significance of the totem figures is nada, it was created using popular totemic figures, not necessarily significant to the people that carved it. At the top is a beaver, then bear with a salmon, then orca/killer whale. The faces on the side have to do with the orca being this tribes significant creature. But as I said, this is just tourist trade work..

I notice a serious lack of pollution in this photo. The air is no longer this clean in Seattle. Sigh.

And then there is modern day Seattle all the way at the top. What is sad is I remember when the wee dinky Smith Tower, just a bitty point on the far far right was a BIG BUILDING on the skyline. Now you can barely make it out with all the newer larger pointy things rising in the air. We call one of the buildings downtown the "Ban roll-on" building. If you are downtown, you can figure it out. (And I suppose if you are old enough to remember Ban deodorant.....) See the yellowy haze most visible to the right of the pic? This was probably a nice summer day when we had not had rain in quite a while, so the air is full of crap. Did I say I moved away from this city? Why yes, yes I have. And am happy about that since we have an asthmatic child whose asthma has mysteriously been getting much better.

Modern Seattle photo courtesy http://www.alkibeachwalks.blogspot.com/

Children and 'Hicksville"

It is official. We moved out of Seattle to 'the country'... (we all know I laugh at that term since I am 5 minutes from starbucks and home despot....) and my daughter is telling her old Seattle buddies that she needs to get outta this hick town. Hick town? Really? I am worried about this school she is in. I was thinking it would make her a well-rounded adult, accepting of pretty much anything since she has dealt in her short life with folks that are not really like us: extreme liberalism, extreme wealth, extreme conservatives, and now extreme I don't know what to call this. There is the positive side, that kinda low key friendly attitude that can pervade a small town, but the negative side is different than what I grew up with (oh shall I say) 30 years ago in a rural environment?? We were gentle, they are a rough group, full of swearing and fighting.
I think the world changed rapidly and somehow I was left way way behind wearing my rose-colored glasses. Where are those damn things, anyway?
On an interesting side, my favorite jehovah's witness Poppy stopped in this week, giving me a big book on the life of Jesus. She has said she can't quite figure me out, but I have nice kids.
Hmmmm.

Simple Men and Tears

Yesterday, my 10 year old son said he was a "simple man" when I complimented him on solving some issue with a straight forward solution. I was thinking all convoluted on the answer, and he ,came up with something direct. A simple man? Where on earth did that come from?
Today, our 14 year old said she was crying "tears of frustration" not sadness when she was arguing a point with me. And that I was not logical. And she spoke calmly and directly and would not let me divert.
Dang, when these kids grow up they certainly keep things interesting. And as they get older they want to argue points, even if it is the hardest thing in the world for them to do. This growing up is a challenge.

How to Change a Light Fixture - the slow way

Sad picture of sad 'new' light without fancy shade. See the lovely hole I made around the switch on the wall? A similar lovely hole is in the ceiling now.

Denis' rear clambering into the wee roof space next to the chimney. He could not fit that rear between the chimney and roof, which is of course where the light spliced from.

This is almost embarrassing to write. But obviously not embarrassing enought to stop me. OR I have reached an age where I don't give a rip anymore. This is the story of a hallway light.
1. In August I noted the upstairs light blew its lightbulbs out. Literally shot them out of the socket. Recognizing the ineptitude of the previous owners who overwatted every single rippin' light fixture in this house of knob and tube wiring.... that it was more than likely due to that.
2. I went to Home Despot and got a simple fixture and from one of my fave antique stores a 'vintage' glass light shade. Vintage in this story means 'overpriced'... but attractive.
3. I took down the old fixture. Which was only a couple years old. But way overpowered for the wiring that led up to it.
4. Noted that the wires were coming directly out of the wood ceiling. As in, two holes were drilled and two wires poked through.
5. Sighed. Went back to Home Despot and got a junction box. It is my goal to slooooowly correct things as I discover them.
6. Changed hallway light switch that controls this to a dimmer switch. Had to drill and rasp the wood hole bigger to fit the dimmer.
7. Waited about two months... needed to go into the attic to make the hole bigger to fit the junction box. Needed daylight and I always seemed to be doing something else during the day, plus had promised Wilder he could go up in the attic with me.
8. Crawled in attic through the secret door in the bathroom.
9. Promptly began my usual cursing when I see what the previous owners have done. Gentle cursing, since my kids were present. My new favorite is "Oh, Flagnon!" You must see monsters vs. aliens to get this one. (Highly recommend this movie) I digress.
10. What the hell was my inspector doing up here a year ago??? Because he sure didn't mention that my outlets and ceiling lights are crappily/haphazardly spliced off the knob and tube wiring. Also, did not mention that the insulation is right up against the knob and tube. Flagnon! Can we say let's just friggin' burn the house down.
Grrrrrr.
11. ANYWAY, got the kids' dad to crawl up there so I could work from the second floor and he keep the electric lines away from my sawing to make the fixture box hole larger. It was right next to the chimney, so we could not fit. (the original person must have been teeny who put that in) I stood underneath with my eyes closed and sawzall'ed the hole in the wood ceiling. I had sawdust everywhere. EVERYWHERE. Ears, Eyelashes, Underwear. And I was wearing goggles. Put the box in. It was the wrong type. But we made it fit.
12. Put up fixture.
13. Put up lightshade. It did not fit over the new fixture with regular bulbs.
14. Waited a week.
15. Went to Lowe's for a bathroom window and found small lightbulbs that allow the 'vintage/overpriced' shade to now fit.
16. Will have my electrician redo this when he comes over, or at least give him a good laugh as he fixes it.
17. I really do love my house. It teaches me patience, and grace. Who needs anything other than children, four old walls, an ex, a job, horses, throwing up cats, a leaning chicken coop, leaking siding and a furball dog to teach you humility, kindness, time management and letting go of perfectionistic tendencies?
18. Oh wait. I have not let go of perfectionistic tendencies yet.

Sophie Dog Zing Cat

We had to put Sophie down last week. It was a sad day. And a sad couple days after. We also got a giveaway cat named Zing. Zing is a bit neurotic, and not really a people cat. Or a cat cat. She is an odd duck of a cat. But very cute, if a bit nervous looking.

Old Sophie girl sunning herself last summer...

Two Pics of My House - 1900's and 2009

Now.... and

Then!

Just recently went to the local tax assessors office to find out any information on my house. On the very last page of the 14 page document was a scan. I showed this to a friend and she shuddered. "This is YOUR HOUSE?" She has not seen it in person... so maybe she thinks I live in this house now. ? The naive thing about me is I would Love to live in this house. With a furnace and maybe change those one over two windows glass to double pane. Electricity would be great, too.

Note the wee linden tree on the right of the picture which now towers over this house. And the small quince bush that became a towering mess-o-branches near the front door that I recently had yanked. The bush, not the front door. Sometimes correct grammar eludes me.

Old House - New Owners

Just got an email from the new owners of our Seattle house. They sound happy, which makes me happy. I was worried they were gonna tear the house down, NOT that it is a prime example of post-war architecture in the Seattle area, just because it is a solid house made out of real wood with glass door knobs. Although I never loved that house, it made us a great home for 11 years, and I patted it on the wall and murmured thank you as I left for the last time. Well, unless you count the time I broke into our old house before they moved in because... is this a 'me' thing or what.... I left my purse in the house. The whole house is empty and hollow and echo-ey... and I leave my purse right on the counter, and lock the doors leaving them the keys to the doors sitting next to my purse.

Horse hospital

Bey has taken a trailer ride to the lush plush cold horse hospital where he had something stuck in every orifice, poked with drugs and is now hooked up to an IV. Somewhat of a crack-up, I did not know horses could go IV'ing. They just attach it to his neck and 4 giant bags are hanging above his stall, he can walk around hooked up to fluids. All because of a bellyache. This is hard to explain to non-horse folks, but horse-gal friend said it best : "It is like when a baby colics, except imagine the baby dying from a stomacheache." Horses have a whole lotta intestines, and all sorts of things can do wrong in those tubes. Bey is our aloof horse. Meaning he does not come over for love or just to visit, he comes over for food. When he is not feeling well, he is an entirely different beast. He rested his (what felt like) 400 lb. head on my folded arm with his muzzle smooshed into my sleeve. He always watched where I was when he was being prodded and poked, and whinnied when I left. I am such a sucker. Hope Rose doesn't read this posting, since she is the same way as a teenager, and she could learn one more way to manipulate her motherly. Cost of horse repair? Price of a mortgage payment. Those of us who pay $200+ to rescue feeder mice and child-loved rats can understand. Damn animals anyway.

Pro-crass-tiny-nation

Photo: Port Gamble

I think I type on here when I am procrastinating. And I am procrastinating.

Today action list. I write these every once in a while so when I am feeling like I am not getting anything done, I can review, and then remember I do get stuff done and to give myself a ripping break.

1. Picked up horse blanket.

2. Dropped off check to bank.

3. Bought new flour and yeast for sourdough making.

4. Pet cat.

5. Called vet for Bey (horse) who tried to colic.

6. Pet dog.

7. Checked on new guinea pig, Flambe.

8. Walked Bey.

9. Blanketed Bey.

10. Warmed water for Bey.

11. Bribed Bey to eat medicine with horse cookies. It did not work.

12. Yelled at Rose for thinking a "c" grade is just fine since it is average. (Don't talk to me about this, I am having be perfect/ be imperfect mother/daughter issues and realize it)

13. Yelled at Wilder for somethingerother. Probably having to do with his homework.

14. Quabbled about my flood bill with the water sucker-upper company. I am doing amazingly well with my terminology this evening.

15. Paid bills.

16. Swept leaves. Dumped 7 loads onto the compost, and still have more leaves. Damn big trees.

17. Plugged generator charger into outlet. 'Tis the season for power outages.

18. Bought things Glittergirl asked me to for her.

19. Had a phone meeting on Non-Profit Facilities while sitting in my car on the side of the road.

20. Caulked windows on south side with nasty toxic smelling clear caulk.

21. Frowned.

Usually these lists make me feel better, this one did not. Criminy, is it the weather? I am a huge grump today.

I think I hear a pirate ship of legos rolling across the floor upstairs. I need to go make someone walk the plank back to bed. Pray for their 10 year old boy soul, will ya?

House - In case anyone was wondering

There are a couple construction-reconstruction-restoration blogs I like to visit. They make me feel like I got teensy, wee, simple little problems over here... since they tackle giant jobs like : move walls, dig drain lines, realign foundations, yadee yada. When I post this picture, you will see the level of my talents. For my defense, I will say I was waiting for the vet because Bey is trying to colic, and so only grabbed things nearby to create this glorious repair AND it now is upright as opposed to broken. My restoration bloggers would have a beautiful right-angled, secure, isometrically balanced finished project. Mine is, well, mine is holding rotten wood with screws. Which is no small feat. Rotten wood does not like holding onto anything. Just let me bask in my puddle of brownish glory, okay?

Me!

This is one of my favorite pictures of me when I was young. Well, there are others but they are totally delusional is terms of they don't look like me. Photos can be deceiving. And then we get to wear make-up to play with the whole perspective. I am currently rounder, shorter, wider, older, longer haired but less of it .. but the out of place hair is accurate. Photoshop is a wonderful thing. And friends that use photoshop on your pictures is a wonderful thing.

Seattle House Sold

Something that has been lurking in the background of our lives is an unsold house. Immediately before this 'downturn' in the economy, we took out a heloc on our Seattle house. I used that to purchase this new house... okay, this new old house. Then the economy tanked, and we sat on the house for 7 months dropping the price... and dropping the price.
Well no more. The house sold. I did not think it was bothering me, but I realize it was. Now, NOW things can get rolling. I can put stuff away, I can rearrange things, I can put pictures up. I did not think I was waiting, but I must have been. Now I can clear out all the crap. Yippee yay!

Pictures

Visiting deer cleaning up my apples. Outside my window. As I type. This one has not been shot yet by neighbors. God bless 'em.

I have started taking these pics of dogs on laps of drivers as I see them, but it is hard to be unobtrusive, since my camera is big. The man is driving with a dog on his lap. His arms are around the dog to the steering wheel. And I had to drive in the lane next to them. (but was stopped for this photo...) Yesterday, what I could not photograph since we were rollin' , was a woman with her dog with his paws on the steering wheel as they are moving. Pray tell, what would she choose to do, steer out of danger or make sure her poopsy does not get flipped roughly off the steering wheel?) PEOPLE, what is wrong with you?? Where is your head? What happened to responsibility? Crapinahandbasket! (I don't get charged for saying that word around the kidlets)

This one is pretty self evident. And How Come those rainblows never look as glorious in 2-D as when you are standing under them? Oh, chicken coop that needs paint and a new roof visible in the background.

Onward to Oregon

My favorite part of the freeway down to Oregon.... when you get to go 76 1/2 mph!
The green trim on the Mitchell Oregon Skyhook Motel. I sat in this chair typing on this computer when last here. When I look at these pics it actually somewhat cracks me up, since this wee little motel looks rather rough and unpolished. In my life it is the people that make anyplace worth visiting. And the owners of the Skyhook and the little town of Mitchell are straightforward small town people. I can do the fancy hotels, with the desk staff that could give a rip. But as I age, I will spend my money gladly at the small cafes, espresso stands, and hotels where the people do give a damn.













Interior, Skyhook. All those things are handmade on the wall. This is also a very clean little place with handmade quilts on the bed. The prior posting on this place talks of the history, of course, I am always a sucker for that.
This is a better place to visit Sept-April. The walls are fairly thin and you don't want any screamers next door. (to be fair, that only happened once in my 15 years of staying here... and mercifully for me, but probably not for his gal, the man was a quick shooter)

Welsummer chickens

I decided to get welsummer chicks this year. They are rare and an old breed. We had to wait forever because many other folks wanted them also this season. That is how we ended up with the golden polish neurotic rooster and hen. The rooster would not let the new crew of 5 stay in the chicken house, so they slept in a pile in the chick cage until he departed for wilder environments.

I will tell you a bit about these little girls. Our other fave chickens we have brought on board for their calm temperament and egg laying aptitude. The Black Australorps and Golden Wyandottes and Buff Orpingtons are all wonderful fat birds. Nice and friendly and laid back... they even purr.

These Welsummers cluck and scratch, they have a hard time roosting on a perch (actually fell off the first time up) and like to sleep on the ground in a pile except for one dignified gal. They don't purr, they can honk like geese. The first time I heard it, I figured some ducks or geese were hanging around, and then I realized these wee hens were forcing air out of their blowholes (I am sure that is not the official name for their breathing holes, probably nostrils) and causing a big honking blart sound to be issued forth. It is their wayfinding tool to keep track of each other, they primarily do it when they are in their little chicken herd going over grass in the yard. They are more naturally cautious and seem more street saavy when running around the yard. They keep an eye on the sky, and seek shelter and lay low if anything suspicious pops up. They have good heads on their shoulders (for a chicken!) They are too young to lay as of yet, but we are expecting great things.

Visual "To-Do" List

Maybe I will do the list if I can see it....
1. Plant nursery finds before chill sets in the ground. Report sunflower growth and bee visitation results to www.greatsunflowerproject.org

3. Scoop poop. Move compost pile.

4. Make apple sauce.

Rooster Tale

Photos: The young juvenile delinquent.

Last night Wilder and I did some illegal stealth maneuvering. Not entirely responsible behavior, but we were torn. Half our family will not let us eat the chickens we raise, and half does not like to be attacked by a big fluffy ball of rooster feathers.
This year we accidentally got a rooster. I actually considered getting a rooster -- one of the docile friendly breeds. Did that happen? No, we ended up with the neurotic, paranoid breed of chicks. (Don't trust your feedstore young men to know one chick from another) When you get the wee chicks at the store, they are usually in a straight run, which means "who the heck knows if these are wee hens or wee roosters take your chance." One of our new pullets turned out to be a rooster. Not bad in itself, I was not worried about it, but this one turned out to be the stupidest, crowingest, attackingest, glowing red eyes terrorizing the barnyard bird. He is lovely. Actually, he is lovely, reddish luminescent feathers, and long green black tail feathers. He has had a variety of names.... but as of last night he shall be known as "the wild rooster of North Kitsap."
I will say no more.

House - Update

Photo Detail : Stupid old electric ceiling light in process of replacing.

Photo Detail : Smartness-challenged previous owner that put two 100 watt bulbs in 60 watt limit receptacle. Note discolored overheated ceramic holder and bulb base still stuck in the holder after blowing the bulb out like a bomb. Every light was over-watted in this house. Did you note the above wiring pic? Not really the electrical system one should be overloading.

Photo: The start of the bathroom tear-out.

Don't even ask about the light that was the three day job. It is still not done. I blame it not on me, but on my endless illness that is finally lifting. The bathroom is still in a funky state of disrepair. I have been eyeballing it, and then leave the room. Ok, really, I eyeball it, pull up a section of the 5 layers of linoleum, think "I am exerting myself" let it drop and then leave the room.
The thing with this clingy bug which I have learned is not to push it. When I felt a bit better and moved manure, moved hay, clambered up and around the ceiling.... I got sick for another two weeks. Have been moving slowly. Which KILLS ME. How am I supposed to be my laid-back overachieving self if I have to rest all the time.
One thing I have been very effective at is shopping on craigslist for my bathroom stuff. Here is the genius thing. I have a limited budget to do this bathroom, yet have now found a kohler shower unit and restoration hardware lights, sconces and towel racks for 27% what I would pay for them new. And they are new! It helps to be sick in bed, since craigslist is weird and varied in terms of the deals you can find. I am still holding out for my new bathroom window and skylight on there.