Row, row, row of cabins

A little like traveling back to 1955, a visit to Cama Beach State Park is relaxing and fun in an uncomplicated way: simple 1930s style cabins, funky/fresh air off of the beach, front porch view of the sunset, kids collecting shells and stones, weenie roasts, naps, reading.




A collection of beach footwear captured for me the family friendly nature of the park. We saw lots of families with little ones, and many appeared to be vacationing with friends, neighbors of relatives, putting me in mind of summertimes when I was a kid and we spent vacation time with cousins, aunts and uncles.

Jack did take a dip in the Sound. Or is it a strait there? He insisted it wasn't very cold, but it sure looked chilly to me. He spent his down time in the shade on the cabin porch reading.





According to notes in the guest book, young visitors most love the trails that wind in and out up and down the forested slope. We liked the no-nonsense nature of the plain wooden cabins. Yes there's electricity and running water, a microwave for cooking and heaters for the chill of evening. There are comfortable mattresses and, in the "deluxe" version of the cabins toilets and showers. (Most cabins don't have their own bathrooms, but there are large "bath houses" with the necessary facilities for common use.) No cars. You park in a lot up above and take a shuttle to the cabins. The one touch of cute: the park boasts 100 handmade, patchwork quilts. Volunteers pieced the quilts of old-fashioned fabrics using traditional patterns. Our cabin had 3 quilts. And the activity center had a beautiful, large quilt that depicted the park in its former life as a private fishing resort.

Happy birthday to me me me me me

Sisters, you gotta love 'em, especially when you're outnumbered. So here I am with 4 clones. Will the real Judy please stand up?



For my 65th I asked for a birthday party, and I got what I asked for, thanks to the combined efforts of my spouse and longtime friends Jan and Jane, not to mention my four sisters, who were responsible, if I may use the term "responsible" loosely, for much of the hilarity. Jack performed a couple of age appropriate original numbers of his own. Film at 11:00. In the meantime here's one shot of audience reaction.

On my actual birthday

I went to my desk at 7:30 a.m. after a pleasant walk along the waterfront and found a birthday cake! Despite bearing an accurate number of candles (Go ahead and count them if you care) it was a real thing of beauty with friendship written all over it. Only a friend would turn on the oven when the kitchen is already over 100 degrees. What a great surprise. I shared with some co-workers. It was good cake, by the way. Homemade carrot cake. Yum.

Goat man Terry

Monica's Lopez neighbor had just acquired two young Nubian goats last year when we visited. This year he added two even younger kids to his herd, which now also includes his daughter's horse. While the baby goats gamboled and kicked up their heels in the evening, Terry told a hilarious story about dressing the young goats up in fleece vests and the like this past winter. It got very cold on Lopez and he doesn't have an enclosed barn for them, just an open-sided shelter. He was worried that they would suffer. He said -- and I choose to believe him -- that the goats liked their outfits. He removed the clothing once the weather changed; and when it turned bitter again they went over to the place where the vests and shirts were lying and nudged them until he put them back on. The photo at right shows the youngsters playing with their food. That's the vegetable and flower garden of Terry and his wife in the background.

Lopez, again

I was supposed to be waiting hand and foot on Jan and Monica for the weekend of their shared birthday, but it didn't really happen that way. I did bring a birthday cake (Silver Palate's carrot cake, yum) and some gifts, but being the youngest and most irresponsible, they couldn't count on me for a lot else. Except the snoring. I managed to serenade them nightly. At least that's what they said. I don't believe that I snore. Jan does though. It's a very little, quiet snore, as befits a person of her petite stature. But it is a snore all the same.

Oh Canada - May 29, 2009

We were in Richmond and Steveston, B.C. "on assignment," at least Jack was. Was just tagging along for the fun of it. Although I've visited Vancouver a number of times, none recently, I'd never seen these suburban communities, both of which have been pretty well absorbed into the greater Vancouver area. Richmond, while pleasant, seems the more absorbed, while Steveston has salvaged a bit of its own identity with a lively waterfront boardwalk, lots of view restaurants and - back from the water's edge - a number of cute little shops. Jack did a cannery tour.



Here's Jack at work, checking out the fishermen selling from their boats. We also enjoyed the fisherman's memorial, the old British boatyard and the Saturday Night Market (a veritable little Hong Kong, complete with every kind of Asian food you might imagine, and then some. One of my favorite spots was the Buddhist temple in Richmond, said to be the largest in North America. It was impressive.

Here's one of my favorite images from the temple.

Crossing Washington - May 7 and 9, 2009

Between Colville and Seattle we saw a little bit of everything, weather-wise. Sherman Pass (top left), the highest mountain pass in the state, had a blizzard - not so surprisingly. Lucky we still had snow tires. Winthrop welcomed us and the wagon train pictured above with bright blue skies and sunshine. The riders had been on the road and sleeping in the outdoors for 4 nights. I believe they got rained on. We stayed at a spot on the river and soaked up some rays.






The North Cascade Pass, seen at right above Ross Lake, had been open less than a week when we crossed. It was sunny and spectacularly beautiful. There was still a lot of snow heaped at the roadside. The restrooms at the top of the pass were still buried to at least butt high. There were camper/hiker/climbers breaking camp in one of the parking lots. Hardy souls. It was a lovely drive.