Friday Harbor or San Juan Island

Mom and daughter dancing to a tune on the haybale dance floor.

Whenever I look at my pictures I am reminded that I need to take the date stamp off my camera.  Well, here we are on San Juan Island.  When I was growing up we called the whole thing Friday Harbor, but technically that is incorrect as just the town is called Friday Harbor.  We were up for a big birthday party and pig BBQ and it was a blast. 



We rented a house right across from a lake resort (Lakedale) where as a young adult I spent lots of swimming hours in the warm water.  This was our fave dock, and it was obviously closed when we were there.  

These two are historic Roche Harbor, a resort at the north end of the island.  To age me, when I was a kid, John Wayne used to visit here all the time.  He was a good tipper.  Also, between high school and college I worked here as Asst. Head Housekeeper which was the ideal job for an 18 year old!

This is one of the more embarrassing pics.  These two gals noticed there was cell service at Roche, so they both got on their little phones.  My mom to play words with friends, and Rose to check her texts.  Amidst the touristy loveliness, they had their heads down.

The other end of the island has American Camp. When I was a kid this was just a big rabbit filled field, it did not have interpretive centers and houses and signs.  British Camp in the lush middle of the island had more to it. There was a Pig War in 1859 that decided who got possession of the island... the British or U.S.  No loss of life except the pig - who was raiding a garden at the time. 

We won an architect

We won an architect at my son's school fundraiser auction for $100.  Such a deal!! I am really trying to pare down my needs... I don't want to overwhelm someone with a list three pages long.  Keep in mind, I don't want to change the house, I feel there are 106 year old patterns of use, patterns of living that were put in place for a reason.  I want to respect those patterns...since what is life but one big continuum?  Historically, I also am keen on that this house was designed as a working farmhouse... every room was placed for a very specific reason, whether I know the reason or not.
I would like my fridge moved in my kitchen, however. I know the reason it is not there... kitchens in 1906 did not have double wide, tall, stainless steel with water dispenser cooling units... they put it in the mudroom in the because it fit fifty years later. And some windows on the exterior have been moved... and all have lost their two over two single hung windows in favor of vinyl sliders. But I can't dwell on that sad bit of info.

Not my house. Just showing you that the original window style looks alot better than sliders.

My house. Hmmm. What project was I tackling? It was probably the gutters and installing that rain barrel. That is the ladder I drove over with the truck.  Lesson: Always put your tools away.

Leaving

I am heading out to Minneapolis for a week for a conference.  This is for my museum skillset -- the American Association of Museums-- and a gal friend was supposed to speak at it.  I thought it would be good to see how my new brain would do, since this was easy as punch information pre-stroke.  I am curious how my brain processes things now.
The hard part is leaving the kids and farm.  You cannot believe the to-do list I have. The kids dad will be staying here, and now that Rose is a driver (did I mention she got her license??) it should be easier.  Still moms will be moms and I am fretting about Wilder feeding his guinea pigs, Rose locking the chickens up at night... the garden being watered... on and on and on.
Once I get on that plane it will all be a non-issue!  But right now I am Type A 'ing.

The Wonders of Craigslist - House History Found

Pictures: Top, the Blue Shoe Farm's property at the turn of the 20th century. Mid: Bernice thought this was my home... I am not so sure. Bottom: Property today. The drippy tree is an old old birch.

The last couple weeks I have been craigslisting my extra apples. Hundreds of apples from two hundred year old trees. I had Guy and his 80+ mom Bernice come over for some apples, told me what kind they were (Kings and Transparents) and Bernice asked if I lived in the Paulson house. I affirmed I did, and she said she has lived in the brothers 1903 house since 1930 and that our two properties were (originally) next to each other. Now there is a gravel pit, highway, housing development and industrial area between us. My property stayed fairly intact due to another family buying it and running a dairy, until large scale farming left our county in the 1980's. The dairy had a hard time when zoning changes came in, and when they sold a developer bought it and chopped up the land. I love these random unexpected stories about my house! Another craigslist genius moment.

Abandoned Farmhouse - NW Finn Hill and Urdahl Rd Poulsbo

While my son was brushing up on his batting for Little League this spring at a giant sports complex built in the middle of farmland, I walked across the road to acreage for sale. Set back on the property was this farmhouse... obviously abandoned and a little on the creepy side with the weather torn curtains and kicked-open door.
I have some sort of a weird obsession with old houses. They have stories in them that I want to know. There is something particularly disturbing to me when they are abandoned.
When I was walking through the weeds I thought : if my old house was in a more public place... in an area of development, it would have ended up like this. Once development starts on farmland, there is not alot of room for farming any longer. Some folks get cranky when they have to drive past cow smells, and no one likes the sound of roosters, especially the nutball type that sporadically crow 20 hours a day (which, honestly, seems to be the only kind I have ever had.) This vandalized building was once a loved home. There are chintz curtains moving against the broken glass, bright paint in the kitchen and still great condition furniture in the living room. Once an efficient working farmstead surrounded by level agriculture fields, it is now ready for the bulldozer and another big box store. This property is a stones throw from the Home Depot-Walmart-Starbucks-PetSmart-Office Max complex so I am sure the value is in development. And that is the rub. If I owned this, and it was worth 1.2 million as retail property and 440K as a farm... what would I do? What would you? I always like to think I would consider the longterm good of a rural community (which to me is more land, more agriculture - otherwise I would live in a city...) but self interest is a strong motivator.
For the record, I am not saying no to big box stores or to development, (stay tuned for my post of where I got a temp job) but am seriously questioning our need for a monster complex of them every 6.5 miles. I don't remember seeing "shopping" in Maslow's hierarchy of needs.

Old House Histories

Photo: Lemolo Schoolhouse, 2011. I realize it is not really a 'looker' in this image... I will post more interesting photos when I find my elusive camera. One of the more interesting tasks of my previous museum job was helping visitors and researchers document building histories. Since moving to my old house, I have sporadically been searching for information on my property since a 1904 house in Washington state probably has some sort of provenance. I realize this is nothin' to folks on the East Coast or across the ponds toward Europe and Asia, but in our wet Northwest clime, 107 years is a bit of age. Things have a tendency to be torn down around here.... progress you know. Or, just molder away in the wet moist environment. Last week we visited a gal that just bought an old community schoolhouse located in Lemolo. I got a bit giddy with finding out information on her building... since old public one room buildings in Kitsap are torn down without a second thought - Grange halls, schoolhouses, churches have been bulldozed more often than not. And she actually likes her building - yay! To find material about her school and my home I made my first venture to the Poulsbo Historical Society and was pleasantly surprised by their knowledge and friendliness. They not only had citations of all available references from the local newspaper for the last several decades but also gave me names of oldtimers that live in the community and can share what they know. The other major resource is the Kitsap Historical Society which I only dealt with by phone or email after my first in person visit. They are still working on finding early schoolhouse pictures, but the stunner is that the director is the granddaughter of the man who built my house, if my house is really the Paulson home. Unfortunately, she has no pictures, but she does have tales. There is a part of me that does not want to find out the details of my previous house residents... since if there is something wacked I don't really want to think of it going on within these walls. BUT then again, this house has no bad vibes, even when it is really dark, and I am really tired, and the kids are with their dad. The only thing I have a question about is why every door has a lock on it upstairs, but am going to attribute that to this being (previously) a hundred+ acre farm that probably had farm hands and maybe boarders during the Depression and after. I did find out that there were extensive gardens, a dairy, giant chicken barn, and they sold produce to Port Gamble residents when Port Gamble was a monster lumber mill and community. I am going to search for the foundation of another smaller house somewhere on the property that the wife moved to when the husband died. Why didn't she stay in the "big" house?

Maybe she was like me, and hates cleaning floors. I often think of moving to a one room condominium with no animals and all white furniture when I become slower and longer in the tooth. I think it keeps me motivated and somewhat sane... to think there is an out to the endless maintenance I do. As far as I can see, the chickens are the only creatures earning their keep around here by supplying me with eggs. I was trying to talk Amanda dog into weedeating yesterday since my arm was sore. She just gazed at me with dog admiration, I told her that only goes so far, that unconditional love thing. She needs to start helping around here, and that does not include her yippy barking. I know when my neighbors drive by since I see them...I don't need her barking-yipping-noisy narration. Dogs.

Betty MacDonald's Egg and I

A friend and I were up in Port Townsend walking through the shops. We went into William James, Bookseller (best bookstore ever) and both bought used copies of The Egg and I. Having never read this Northwest classic we thought it was high time to read it.
End result... it is a pre-Depression tale of : newlyweds move from the big city Seattle to the country and a chicken farm and meet stereotypical country neighbors and various wildlife all under the snowy flanks of the Olympic Mountains. It is definitely dated, has some things that made me cringe in my 2011 sensibilities, but she is a good writer and it was a quick read.
After it's 1945 publication, The Egg and I was such a huge hit that Hollywood bought the rights and made a movie. The road where they lived for four years - which gave her the fodder for her story - is now the Egg and I Rd. in Chimacum, Wa. I drive by it on my way to Port Townsend, and for twenty years just thought someone was a nutty fan of author Betty MacDonald and named the road for her book. Little did I know this was the road she lived on! Their little place is long gone, but I swear there are a couple old homesteads that fit the era and descriptions from her book --she did not have nice things to say about her neighbors. Funny, it is a road that looks and drives like a kajillion other roads around here, but now feels different because of those tales created 80 years ago.

Ghosts!

Photo: Not where I work. That would be creepy.
I am so excited! Tonight we have ghost hunters coming to the museum to find any supernatural beings. I just hope it doesn't creep me out from being in the museum after hours.
We have three stories of (minor) terror while in the building, the hunters will do a survey and see what they can find.
I hope I get to use a plasma gun. My only experience with this sort of thing is the movie "Ghostbusters." I am pretty sure this will not be like the movie.
Two questions:
1. Why do we have to meet when it is dark? If there were ghosts here wouldn't they be around 24/7?
2. Why do we have to turn out the lights? Do ghosts really care if the lights are on?
I guess technically that was four questions.

Fort Worden Port Townsend

We took a quick trip over spring break up to ol' Fort Worden. These were built as WWI and WWII security for the entrance to Puget Sound, one of three such batteries. All that are left are echo-ey huge cement blocks buried in the hillsides. Remnants of the cannon supports, ammunition rooms and narrow hallways abound. The rockin' thing is that you can climb anywhere in, over, through them. The hidden tunnels are the creepiest. There are no lights other than our own weak flashlights brought from home.

Seattle Viaduct

The Seattle waterfront has a two-level freeway running next to and above it.
Sometimes when things have always been there (ya know, within your own lifetime) you get used to seeing it and cannot imagine anything else.

The unfortunate truth is that this is duplicate to the freeway in San Francisco that pancaked and fell during the 1989 earthquake. Seattle has been ignoring this fact and dealing with it at the same time. Local news reports after the SF earthquake reported--the Seattle viaduct is NOT like the San Francisco viaduct -- and then proceeded to tell us it is not long for this world and sinking and placed weight restrictions on it. See, the freeway is built upon fill. That fill is supported by wood pilings that date back to early Seattle. When where I was standing in the photo was water and docks. And those pilings have been chewed by piling eating worms. So those pilings really are not supporting the pillars any longer. Hence, the freeway sinking. Hence, the metal supports added in pic #1. I think all that temp work to shore it up was over 14 million. Here is the possible replacement that our governor,

Gregoire, and our former mayor, Nickels were in a pissing match about. Well now Seattle has a new mayor, god help that city, McGinn, such a perfect Seattle can't make a decision, let's make sure we all feel good about it, let's have absolutely no leadership experience or budget handling experience but get people to vote for us because we are not the other guy, let's have endless pointless expensive time wasting meetings about it and then still not make a decision Mayor McGinn. I don't know what his opinion is about it other than he may want half the lanes dedicated to walkers and bikers... which the day I see semi trucks from the waterfront hauling cargo all across the US by bicycle is the day I will stop drinking coffee. This simulation of the viaduct replacement by tunnel under Seattle is brilliant. I did not add the simulated viaduct in an earthquake that is also on youtube... that is the sort of thing that makes people paranoid. (And I think my car was represented in there...) but you can google that in your own time. I will not contribute to american paranoia. Except through my own children.

Under Seattle by car.... : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rgtOTMJt-AI (note, I can't get this to work, if it works for you, let me know)

Seattle views

The first image is a view of the historic Smith Tower on the right --the smaller pointed-hat topped building all alone. This building - for over 50 years the tallest building west of the Mississippi - is now barely seen compared to the rest of the citys highrise towers. This pic is deceptive, since my camera and perspective make all those towers seem about th same height. The large black tower in the center, tallest in Seattle, was evacuated on 9/11 since the country was flipping out. Justifiably.

The Smith tower has a room you can rent at the top of it with a 360 degree view of Seattle and Puget Sound. The cement structure below is the viaduct, an elevated freeway that runs above the Seattle waterfront and doomed in an earthquake. It is closed this weekend for measuring... since it is sinking and unstable. I used to not drive on it except under duress, or when late. Now I drive on it since it is the fastest route to the ferry.

I have accepted my mortality.

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/

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.

Time Capsule Stuffer Extraordinaire

Photo: As only Seattle can do it. Using recycled glass as a drainage material around the time capsule. This is broken glass. I do not envy those people trying to get in the capsule in 2059. Tetanus shots will be mandatory.

Photo: What the heck are they looking at? The final cement layer on top of the time capsule is being enscribed by these children. We'll see if they remember in 50 years....

Time Capsule Stuffer Extraordinaire. That is my new title. Some have said that it is not fitting for the gravity of the job, but considering all the political crap I slogged through (politics=people behavior, not politics=governmental leanings) I find it more than adequate. I think it has a ring to it.
I finally finished compiling and getting a time capsule in the ground with a bunch of well-mannered staff and volunteers. It is due to be opened in 50 years. My own lovely children were not present at the event. Why? Because their dad was having cable installed at his house at the same time. Let's weigh this one out... historic moment that my children could have been one of the few involved who have the chance to be around in 50 years.... or F(*&*(&in' prime time television?
Obviously, the choice has been made. It is okay, because I had 6 surrogate children that morning to carry the torch. I am a bit miffed, I sense, still. My poor kids, I am always shoving them in the limelight where they are not necessarily desiring to be. Next, is to get Rose to play a ghost from the past for a big fundraising event. Please send me good wishes of parental manipulations... I mean honest straight-forward collaboration on this project with my TEENAGER.

Ghost Story - Maritime Disaster on Puget Sound

Right down there. Under that water. Quietly rests a 1904 wreck.

Here is a tale of a ghost ship. One that went down so fast nothing was found. No life rings, no wooden rail, nothing. It is called the worst (worse?) maritime disaster on Puget Sound. About 39 people died. This was in November 1904. The little passenger steamship ferry was called the SS Dix. No one has been able to visit the wreck since it sits in 600 feet of water. And, of course, there was no gold on it, no one 'of merit' in the national sense perished so there has not been alot of modern interest in specifically locating it on the sea floor. But a whole community shut down in grief after this happened. No one residing in Port Blakely, Bainbridge, at the turn of the 20th century, went unaffected by this tragedy. The only female to survive was a young lady who the tale is told her pleated skirt filled with air and she floated. (Let's keep in mind sensational journalism is not new to our current media) Every other woman perished, since they wore heavy wool and corsets, and were downstairs in the warm interior room next to the steam engine. The ship went down in 6 minutes. About 35 other boys and men survived, along with the Captain of the ship.

The current Washington State ferry system floats dozens of times daily over the wreck. Sometimes I look in the water and get the heebie jeebies. It is down there and none of the 300-500 passengers know it. Well, except for me and the ferry captain.