Life's a Stitch

In these pictures you might think we're on the Camino in Spain.

 It was a five mile walk, longer than our usual ones, but another mile up past the mahagony forest this was the local scenery:

 Aloha! Located halfway around the world from Spain, we’re escaping winter by visiting friends, appreciating an opportunity to replay our trip to Princeville, Kauai from five years ago. The highpoint of this trip was that walk on the Wai Koa Loop Trail. It's free, mostly level and absolutely beautiful.

What an opportunity – a break from colder than usual weather, Marsha knitting in a stockinette stitch chair and me, cooking in the kitchen with that magnificent view. Then and now:

 

Opah (moonfish) grilled on a cedar plank.

A magical place. Most days we watched the rainbows and humpbacks right from our deck. The whales' breaching and fin/tail slapping were too fast for the iphone. Note to self: next time bring a real camera. You know, though, I'm also a fan of witnessing the moment sans photography. I've mentioned it before, committing the magic to memory rather than viewing it through a lens.

More to come.

I heard that there was an Andrew Wyeth exhibit at the SAM and discovered there were a few more days left before it closed and moved on. Wyeth was my watercolour drybrush inspiration since high school and this exhibit fulfilled a long held dream. It was easy to recruit Blogless Marsha to come along, unlike the time I coerced her into a Barry Manilow concert. She will admit to enjoying that, though. 

So started my 36 hour adventure. C dropped me at the Amtrak station at sunrise.

Sitting on the right side while travelling southbound, the scenery is beautiful.

Two and a half hours later I was in the heart of downtown Seattle.  The plan was to meet M at 3:00. In the meantime I got in a few miles of urban walking past Starbuck's headquarters, stopping for lunch for an authentic Cubano sandwich and tostones at Cafe Con Leche, geocaching at Outdoor Research's parking lot, then reaching my final destination of Daniel Smith, manufacturers of fine professional watercolours, many made from ground gemstones.

 

All my overnight items were contained in a full backpack so my purchases were limited. That's a good thing. Really, so many good experiences in a short period of time, there was no need to buy a thing, however, there was probably some drool left on the floor of DS. One of these days I'll spring for their turquoise paint made of stone from Arizona's Sleeping Beauty Turquoise mine.

The best was yet to come. Thanks to Uber I could spend more time at my stops and still meet M for our museum entry time. To celebrate the 100th anniversary of Wyeth's birth, this retrospective collection contained over 100 paintings. I'd guess a third were watercolour and 2/3's done in his egg tempera method. It was a rare opportunity to get close enough to see the actual brushstrokes.

 

One of my favourites was Maga's Daughter, a portrait of his wife, named in honour of his mother-in-law.

The exhibit wound through many rooms for an opportunity to see paintings I had only read about, and as I turned each corner, I waited for Christina's World, his most famous painting. Not to be. I found out that it lives permanently at NY's Metropolitan Museum of Art and is not planning on travelling. Not a problem, I was grateful to see what was there knowing it was no small feat to arrange so many painting in one spot from many locations.

I spent the night with M & D, enjoying good food, wine and conversation. On yet another beautiful sunny rain-free morning M indulged my geocaching craving. In her neighbourhood we discovered the "Trollboth cache," one of the best I've seen. Spoiler alert: the cache was cleverly placed inside the mouth at the bottom of the structure.

After a dinner of homemade Mac 'n Cheese I boarded the Amtrak back to our temporary quarters in Bellingham, WA. A relaxing end to a whirlwind 36 hours. 

 

The  mild, but rainy, NW part of Washington state, is a wintering ground for Bald Eagles and Trumpeter Swans. Despite the weather we've made it a point ourselves, to winter by exploring the small towns of Whatcom, Skagit and Snohomish counties. Our first stop was on an unusually dry and warm day where we saw the sun, eagles and swans.

It reminded me of the time in January, when we lived in Nebraska oh so long ago, when the temperature reached nearly 60 degrees F. We decide to go camping at nearby Waubonsie Sate Park in Iowa. The things you do for your boyfriend.  Stop me if you've heard this story. I guess you can't, so skip it if you have. It seemed like a good idea at the time and on this very blue sky mild day, listening to Judy Collins on cassette tape singing the Rainbow Connection, an actual sun dog type of rainbow appeared in the sky. Come on, how romantic is that? 

Very romantic, until 1:00a.m., when the temperature dropped so drastically, I spent the night with severe shivers. Nothing would warm me up. In fact the next morning we built a roaring campfire that, although huddling close to each other and to the flames, did nothing. After C dropped me off at my house, I took my temperature. It wasn't the weather, but a 104 degree fever that was the source of my misery. 

The funny part, there is a humourous ending to this story, is that when I returned to work after this bout of flu, I noticed that my gait was off.  Turns out I melted the bottoms of one of my wavy soled Famolare shoes while sitting up close and personal to the campfire. Heavens, they're back, those Famolares. Back then they went well with Huk-a-Poo stretchy man tailored shirts and bell bottom jeans. 

That was a digression par excellence.  Back to now, when we actually had a similar January 60 degree day, and the opportunity to explore the abandoned grounds of WA's Northern State Hospital. Now a ghost town, it was a thriving residential community for the mentally ill, from the early 1900's until the deinstitutionalization years of mid 70's. On their farms in the 1930's, the residents and staff produced, over two years, almost 1.5 million pounds of vegetables and 80,000 pounds of berries.

The grounds include five miles of mostly flat hiking trails, abandoned buildings that serve as excellent subjects for painting, and several geocaches, all-in-all a perfect combination.

One more post from the past, this one from California, then back to the very rainy Pac NW, where we've sought comfort in cooking….in our…wait for it…Instant Pot. Yes, I've fallen prey to the epidemic of home chefs who have bought this Canadian invention. Did you know it's Canadian? I did the patriotic thing by buying one, but on Black Friday, an American institution. More on that in a later post.

Back to the Coachella Valley. This is expanding from a knitting blog, to cooking, painting, geocaching and travel – all antidotes to life (my blog tagline). Truthfully, retirement has been quite the antidote, allowing time for all the rest (excuse the double entendre).

Cooking: 

M & KC were responsible for Christmas dinner. They have a unique foolproof way of cooking prime rib, the reverse of my standby recipe where you put it in the oven at a very high temperature for 30 minutes then turn it way down for two hours. They cook it ever-so-slowly at a low temperature then brown it up on the grill. I concede, their method works better than mine.

What was Christmas dessert in the desert? Poached pears in blackberry wine with custard sauce. We received a box of Harry & David's pears as a gift from my sister and put them to delicious use:

Painting:

Besides the acorn, I was able to finish two more watercolours during the three weeks of our stay:

Geocaching/travel:

C finally convinced me to ride up that extremely winding road to visit his favourite place: Idyllwild, CA, elevation 5000ft.

They bribed me with geocaching, the most popular one there at the squirrel statue.

I was doubly rewarded by a 70% off sale at the local art store without considering the 40lb  limit for checked luggage on Allegiant, the airline that charges for everything: $2 for water and $16 for carry ons.  We nailed it weight-wise but some had to be left behind for next year.

We flew from the sun, over the snowy mountains and back into the greeny greys of coastal Washington.

 

 

 

 

 

Sydney, Australia (as opposed to tiny Sydney, BC, population 11,600) has 4 million people in its boundaries. Although only a third larger than Melbourne, it feels like a crowded place. After docking early in the morning, and locating our hotel for our one night stay, we texted our Aussie friend back home. If you had only one day in Sydney, what would you do? Her answer: take the ferry to Manly Beach. 

The hotel was dead center in the middle of the city and was located next to a demolition site. The din of deconstruction filled all daylight hours so we were quick to take our friend's advice. It turned out that the private high speed ferry was less expensive than the public transport variety, which was slow and required a minimum purchase for a transit card. That was a smart moneymaking scheme for them.

They ferry took us past the Opera House (smaller than I was expecting) and onto quieter, more attractive-to-me parts of the area.

Upon arriving at the Manly Beach ferry terminal, I saw a small horseshoe shaped beach. This is pretty I thought, but wondered what made it so special. I looked down the next street and discovered what we were really looking for, a few blocks away – beautiful huge surfer's paradise Manly Beach.

It was a glorious last day of vacation in Australia. We stopped in the grocery store to pick up a few souvenirs and gifts. I usually go for local spices, but this time it was the failproof Pavlova mix-in-an-egg and for the chocolate lovers in my life, some "Aunt Betty's Oh So Good Chocolate Steamy Puds."

Tomorrow we'll be back on Air New Zealand for our long flight home flying back to our next chapter in the year of drifting aimlessly.

(11-21-17)

Eden, Australia is a pretty area with rolling hills and sapphire coloured bays, but was not named for the Biblical garden, but after George Eden, the first earl of Auckland. Outside of Eden we were escorted by dolphins.

We took our only shore excursion of the cruise, as I had wanted an up close and personal experience with the local fauna. People we met on the ship asked us why we wanted to spend money to see kangaroos when all you needed to do was visit a golf course when they are quite common and pesky, similar to the Canada geese and deer of our home courses.

I wanted to see more than roos. My daughter and niece both have had their pictures taken cuddling koalas and for some reason it appealed to me. Turns out that these photos are now outlawed, out of concern for the animal's welfare, in all but two Australian states. I'm OK with that.  So off we went to Potoroo Palace in Marimbula, an animal education sanctuary.

Sure enough there were Kangaroos, very gentle sweet animals when you are hand feeding them and they're not off marauding the golf courses.

And the koalas, still adorable from a couple of feet away.

The rescued three legged spiny echidna was quite entertaining with its wormlike anteater tongue.

There was a good range of birds and animals: potoroos, wallabies, emus, and others we learned about way back when in geography class. It seems like a well run place and was worth the visit. 

Only one more port of call – Sydney, and then it's back to Canada.

 (11-20-17)

If I were to return to Australia, Melbourne would be at the top of my list for go-to places. I generally find a population of over 3 million daunting, but this city had appeal. Then I realized that it has something in common with Vancouver – both are considered in the top three of most liveable cities in the world. I knew it felt familiar. And Canada and Australia are the two happiest countries according to the UN.

Melbourne has an interesting architectural vibe – spanning the range from colonial to ultra contemporary in a way that works. It's a beautiful city with lots of green space and an in-town beach.

The only hitch on our daylong visit was a sudden severe thunderstorm in the middle of a bright 82 degree day. That doesn't capture the scenario at all. Imaging being on the top outside level of a hop on hop off bus in the sunshine and minutes later being pelted with hail amidst the flashes of lightening and roaring thunder. This storm produced flash floods and a lightening strike of one of Melbourne's quaint streetcars, resulting in a couple of passengers missing the ship's departure. We decided not to take our chances and Ubered back to the port with time to spare.

And then, it cleared up as quickly as it arrived, right in time for sunset. Crazy weather that Melbourne has. 

(11-18-17)

Excuse this post, out of order travel-wise. I mentioned in the Akaroa post that the next stop was Tasmania, when in fact there was one more port of call in New Zealand. It was a rainy day so we stuck close to the ship, not making it into Dunedin, the Edinburgh of New Zealand. Dunedin was settled by the Scottish in 1848 but archeological findings show the Maori were there long before.

We were docked in the little town of Port Chalmers, which was interesting, full of thrift stores and friendly people. It was our last chance to spend our NZ money, a total of $65. An interesting challenge not so much being the matter of money, but of luggage weight. So what do you supposed we ended up with? Our first stop was the local pharmacy where I bought out their supply of Anthisan, the anti-itch bug bite cream not available in North America. 

We stopped at a second hand shop that specialized in an unusual combination: antique medical supplies and local yarn, go figure. Having bought no NZ souvenirs, I opted to spend my last $18 on yarn, 100% merino, 100gms of squishable compact memories.

We were introduced to Puka, the shop dog, who looked capable of producing quite a few skeins from his coat.

While in NZ we met two other memorable pooches. Molly was a Curly coated Retriever, the first I had ever seen.

Then there was the one called Alabama, on our water taxi to Ship's Cove at the start of the Queen Charlotte Track:

Back to Chuck's purchase, the most unlikely of all. What do you buy with your last $15 when you are halfway around the world with luggage weight limitations? A cast iron antique scale of course. With a half hour to sailing, he ran back to buy an extra set of weights at the yarn/antique medical equipment shop. Alas, they were closed. Phew. The scale travelled home in our wheeled carry on bag.

Back on the ship, we set off to Australia, this time without our onboard New Zealand Maori ambassadors. Holland America provided interesting Maori cultural experiences adding richness to the time spent there. After two weeks, it was time to say Haere Ra (goodbye). 

(11-11-17)

Had to share this moment of the two sweet grand boys:

Apparently he was surprised by the flash and not doing a Home Alone imitation.

Wishing all a Christmas filled with joy and peace.

It's frustrating to read a book that jumps back and forth in time. You begin a chapter with a feeling of disorientation until you realize what's going on. That's what's happening here, this being a brief interlude of updating prior to slipping back into the latter part of our time down under. 

I've been writing about New Zealand and Australia, which happened in November, but in reality we've been back to Canada, Washington and now California. I affectionately refer this time to our year of drifting aimlessly. It's not as romantic as it sounds. I once read about a couple who sold their house and prior to repurchasing and settling down, spent two years travelling the earth. It sounded like a dream. It sounds like what we are doing, right?

Yes, we have sold the house and planned our wonderful travels according to the requirements of our health insurance and citizenship. Those darned rules, but that's another story. The other complication has been the house "renovation," really a rebuild that's been laden with issues, costs and resultant delays. It was a lot of fun in the beginning, but like anything that drags on, feels less so now. Sometimes it hangs over our heads like a socked in Vancouver winter.  The builder referred to this, as we do, as our "forever house" and C observed that forever is getting shorter. This was taken today:

The bottom line is I wouldn't trade this time for anything. It has its moments of frustration, which need an outlet, so excuse my moment of complaining.

Now we're on an unplanned trip to California for Christmas with newlyweds M&KC, having given up the dream of having all the family home for the first one in the new house. 

The weather is mild and KC humours me by being my geocaching partner. Good son-in-law.

He was with me a few days ago when I reached my milestone 500th cache. In the middle of the desert, inside that cache there were two scallop shells, the symbol of the Camino. A coincidence, a reminder that all of life is a Camino or a sign for the future? Might have to take those shells back to Spain.

My favourite part of visiting this area is my opportunity to take watercolour workshops with artist Diane Morgan. This is my third year with her. My most recent painting is one of my favourites. The acorn, "a symbol of patience needed to attain goals over long periods of time:"