A Small Visitor

I was enjoying a lovely, coolish morning on the deck with camera in hand, looking for a early morning visit from the humming birds. We usually see two, one who whirrs and drinks midair, and one who sits and drinks. I'm playing with the lenses and lighting about which I feel fairly ignorant. Then I looked down and saw this large beetle about an inch and a half long. Never seen one before. Clueless as to what it was. For some reason it made me think of Michael Keaton in Beetlejuice. Looked it up on my electronic friend PC and found it was a Banded Alder Beetle, or Banded Alder Borer Beetle on some pages.



Both the beetle and me were in the shade so I didn't have to figure out any surprise lighting issues. I was so thrilled to see something I've never seen before and actually get pictures of it. It's nearly 1:30pm now and its still sitting, moving little so it might be on its last legs. It chews and nests in rotted bark and dead wood and is not considered a pest in Washington. I did see where collectors buy them for upwards of $50 on the web. Sorry, this one is going to stay where he/she is, I mean really, would you sell a guest just because it took a nap on your deck?

By the way my spellchecker didn't like how I spelled whirrs; it suggested I substitute whores. I'd better keep an eye the old spellchecker.

Art for the Spirit

Saturday we went to see the dancing of Curtis Bearchum at the Whitman Mission Park. He danced for us as well as explaining the creation and tradition of the beaded and decorative costume. He showed us the pieces that make it up and how they are worn. His wife Phyllis accompanied him, and as he danced she added beads to an eagle claw rattle she had created. You can see Mr. Bearchum dancing with a similar rattle in his right hand.

Below is a closeup of the bonnet that has been handed down in the Bearchum family. The eagle feathers are very old and are decorated with fur and long white curls of horsehair.

The Whitman Mission site is of importance to both the Native American cultures here as well as the descendents of the white settlers. It's a piece of land marked marked by violence and dispute in my mind. Visiting the mission site has been disturbing to me in spiritual ways and to me its a piece of ground in need of healing. I think Mr. Bearchum's dancing here has helped to further that healing and I thank him for that. Art, whether dancing, painting, beading, or any of the other many forms it takes, carries the power for good. I am so sorry the arts in our schools are getting cut out of the budget. In the meantime Curtis is teaching dance to his children, grandchildren, and the kids at this event. I paint and bead with my grandchildren, so maybe individuals can make up some ground for our future.

Lovely day, went home inspired and finished some earrings my 12 year old granddaughter started. I'm going to start a beaded breastplate for my husband as he is riding in the Pendleton Roundup parade costumed as John Colter this fall. Its been 100 years since the Pendleton Rodeo began in 1910, my grandmother was there, I have yet to see it, must be the year.

The Anniversary Party

We headed out for Portland last Friday and we do like visiting old remodeled hotels. So we stayed in the one in Lyle, Washington about 70+ miles from Portland. Upstairs is refurbished in a simple fashion, with bathrooms down the hall. It was easy to imagine you were traveling in the 1900's and had a layover here or were visiting. How many railway workers stopped here in its heyday. Who were they? Did anyone settle here? How hardy they must have been to endure the summer heat here and be working outside. What was it like to cook for customers in a place like this summer and winter? We have it pretty good with our air conditioning and the gourmet restaurant.

This is the original Lyle Hotel in Lyle Washington. It has since been restored and remodeled and is open for business with a lounge and a most excellent restaurant. The original settlement began around 1859; then in 1866 James O. Lyle bought out the main landholder here and voila, Lyle. In 1905 the Spokane, Portland, and Seattle railway line came to town. And, of course that's when the hotel came into being.

This is the Lyle Hotel today. It advertises 10 rooms (although ours was numbered 11?) with a central core of walk-to bathrooms and showers. Robes are provided for your stroll. It's still near the railroad tracks but the trains were not a bother and the rooms are air conditioned, amen, it was hot there. The restaurant serves food that is magnificent. Delicious, fantastic, I can't say enough about it. Or about Harry who played the ukulele and sang Hawaiian songs in the authentic Hawaiian manner.

Saturday we headed into Portland taking many pictures of Mt. Hood who was out in all her beauty along the way to Susan and Michael's 20th anniversary party. This was the best anniversary party, the best party I have been to in years. They served pulled pork, BBQ, lovely salads, all delicious and home made. My brother-in-law Michael made a special shrimp dish during the meal; an old family recipe from his father's restaurant in Florida. Yummy.

Here's my neice and her friend decorating in the yard. My nephew inflated and scattered pink flamingos around the yard. A very fine party. Happy 20th Anniversary Susan and Michael, may life bring you many loving years together.

Happy Birthday Millie from me and Paul Gauguin!

You say to-may-to, I say to-mah-to!

Living with someone can be a challenge. I used to think negotiation and compromise were my strong suit. Now I wonder if after a lifetime of it I am tired of it. Am I being selfish? Have I been a doormat? Is that what happens as you age, do you get tired of putting other people first? Or just tired of their footdragging or their requests. Or am I just tired? What about when we compromise and we go do something no one really likes. Sounds like a flaw in the process to me. I'm having a week of frustrations for sure.

Regrouping

There are times when my life seems to be spent unraveling the same knot day after day with the result that it just grows tighter and more unsolvable. My solution since I was a small kid was to pack a bag and run away. Granted at 8 or 9 I didn't go far or for long with my pillow stuffed in my little suitcase along with some peanut butter sandwiches. Sometimes I slept in the grape arbor in the yard and at others in an ancient tree house in the woods. Sixty years later this is still my solution. I pack better and usually these days find a place inside to sleep. Not that sleeping under the stars doesn't still whisper to me; it's too hard to sleep on the ground and trying to get up off an air mattress, oh my! So I left for the Oregon coast with my sister, reservations at Wheeler by the Bay, and a tic in my eye I'd had for three weeks. Let the ocean breezes blow the cobwebs out of my brain.

I tried not so much to stifle old thoughts as to let new views into my eyes and my heart. The view by our room was wonderful but one the first things I saw were these delicate flowers. The owners here have planted flower boxes on each of the little decks on the backside of the rooms. The weather was healing, 70, not the scalding 100 degrees with blowing dust at home.

I called this my Watergate, but unlike some others when you walk through this arch you leave your tangled webs behind. Plop yourself on a bench on the deck, inhale deeply, hear the birds, and feel the slight damp of the morning fog on your skin as the sun evaporates it and warms your spirit. We watched the sun go down from here. By the next morning my tic had left and I no longer carried an aggrieved spirit.

We spent an evening watching an Osprey hunting up and down the long bay, turning and diving for food as the twilight came on and the sun went down. Now, I know there are those that would tell you, you can't run away from your problems, but, sometimes you can for awhile at least, and with great comfort to your soul.