30 years on the water...

How many things have you done for 30 years straight? Not counting bathing, eating dinners, and habitual worrying, there are not too many activities that I have done on a regular basis every year since 1983.  House boating is one of them.

Every Fall a small group of friends congregate on the lake for a few days of relaxation and fun. We have made home movies, fished, skied, dressed up in costumes, broken bones, choked, fallen out of bunks, drank too much, ate too much, floated, cruised, hit golfballs, shot BB guns at cans, spotted deer and bear, made giant bonfires, lost our moorings, got sunburns, run aground, lost our generators, played cribbage and other games, overflowed our sewage tanks, broken a window here and there, and many other exciting adventures. We've lost a few husbands along the way, had a divorce or two, celebrated a few marriages, lost family members, lost and gained jobs, celebrated births and weddings...you know, all those life events that happen over a span of 30 years. We have laughed at ourselves, witnessed an occasional spat, had some lively discussions on the two no-nos - religion and politics.  But mostly, we just got along.

Most of the wild stuff happened in our early years, when we were daring, energetic and probably stupid.  These days, we are a little calmer, we read more, we talk, we float in the water, we fish...An occasional "party" might spontaneously break out, but for the most part, we are just getting older.  We take a little more care negotiating the stairs under the influence, we count our pills in the morning even though we hate talking about our ills, and we chat about our retirements, our trips, and how wonderful our grandchildren are...

In all those years, we have had bad weather only once or twice and this year promises to be awesome again. For me, it's a chance to enjoy the best of what God has to offer...

Stunning sunsets on the water...

 

 

Being with my baby...

Enjoying great meals....

 



 

Waking up to crisp mornings...

Maybe catching a fish or two...

 



 

And of course...KNITTING!!!!!

The houseboat trip is where I started to knit. They all made fun of me, mainly because I NEVER finished anything...not one sweater...ever.  But these days I do actually make garments, so I will probably take several projects aboard and work on them all.  I can't imagine a houseboat trip without some needles in my hand and a glass of wine by my side.

Laurel. Gone fishing.

Flying Down...

Magpie Tales

 

Mag #136

 

 

To the men: "Anonymous" and my newest follower, my son,

who both say they bypass all my girlie posts. 

So here's the Magpie Tales photo prompt for Sunday, guys,

and below it is my "manly" poetic interpretation

Flying Down, 2006, by David Salle





 

He dreamed of going down

in a flight of winged terror

like a duck riddled with buckshot

spiraling down;

a sail without a ship

sinking into the deep;

a Cessna without a pilot

stalled in a backwash;

falling, falling...

squirming on the chaise

his nap time sweat

 mercifully interrupted

by her.

 

 

Laurel. See...not girlie at all:)

Now fellas, you have to go to Magpie Tales and check out how all my writing friends interpreted the same photo prompt!  Have a great day!!

 

 

 

Endeavor's Flight Home....

Among the many shiny things of this world that I love, airplanes are my favorites.  I love to fly, of course, but more than that, I am fascinated with the science of flight and the giant machines that make it possible for me to sit in a "speeding chair" at 30,000 feet.  I love airplanes...Jets...Rockets..all of them. And I can't even imagine being a pilot, having all that power at your fingertips.

So naturally when NASA announced that the Space Shuttle Endeavor would make it's final flight to a museum in Los Angeles via a fly-by over Sacramento, I am NOT going to miss it.

It's a historical moment, and not one I will ever see in my lifetime again, so we hop in the pickup and drive to the West Sacramento Ikea parking lot, set up our lookout spot and wait.

Now that's not something you see every day. WOW!



Simply amazing...nuf said.

 

Laurel.  "honey, you're drooling.."

The Dance...

 

Magpie Tales

 

Mag 135

Venus and The Sailor, 1925, by Salvador Dali

 

Whirling, swirling,

lost in a sea of dance;

he wooed

she cooed

the dance of lovers

engulfed in a stare down

of one upsmanship;

Her dress flew off

he ditched his shoes

his tango dip

engulfed in pain

as he caught her mid flight;

his siren, his muse

her captive, her prey

but for tonight

just dance...

 



Laurel.  Does this outfit make my butt look big?

 

Too busy to write??

In case you're thinking I've lost my writing mojo, you would be partially right.  While I haven't been inspired to blog for the last few weeks, the "rest of the story" is that I've been busy. And it's Fall, and all I really want to do is walk in the country, smell the dead leaves and earth, go to the pumpkin patch...

But I'm busy. My brain is consumed these days by dressmaking...

I am making the mother of the groom's ensemble...I had to bring back the fine art of basting for this fabric: the sheerest silk organza...butter soft...slippery as *(!&^#%!

Rolled hems by hand...another lost art.

I must admit that the task has been daunting...but you know I am a Project Runway fanatic, and when I watch those would be designers with their sloppy sewing skills (the Russian guy says "I AM NOT A SEAMSTRESS...I AM A DESIGNER!!) I just keep repeating to myself as the fabric slides around on my machine "I AM Project Runway!"

And I have been my usual Fall "social" self...more lunches and dinners...spent an entire day with girlfriends celebrating her birthday. We started with brunch in the country...

And then there's boating, of course...there's nothing like an evening on the lake, putting around with "Mini Kota", the electric trolling motor...so quiet...so peaceful

And watching this giant weed grow in my garden...WHAT IS THIS THING????

And wishing I was back here on a vacation...

Alas, alas. Someday.

 

 Laurel. I can be all things to all people...Yea, right.

 

Sharing on This or That Thursday, Rural Journal

Black Tie...

Magpie Tales

Mag #132

It hung at the back of his closet behind the polyester body shirt and bell bottoms.  He hadn't thought about it for years, this remnant from his former self.  He loved his jeans with the "skosh more room" and his Carhart tee's, symbols of the man's man he'd become in years.

"It's Black Tie", she ventured softly. He thought he saw her wince.

She could see his chest heave quietly. And though he remained silent, she could sense that he did not hold the same enthusiasm for a champagne and swirling around the room in a chiffon ball gown night. She pouted for a moment and he relented.

The dust engulfed his head as the black "straight jacket" escaped from it's plastic coffin.

"Was I twelve when I last worn this thing?" he muttered to himself.

He caught a sideways glance of his stomach in the mirror as he slipped on the jacket. He thought he heard the telltale snap of some ancient thread, but he pressed on. Gazing at the starched white ruffles and the noose like black tie on the bed, he again gave a heavy sigh.

"I'm gonna need some Jack before I try that."

Join me at Magpie Tales Today!

Laurel. Love Black Tie.  He doesn't.

Head, Heart, Hands, Health

I was reading the recent issue Cowboys and Indians and came across an article about 4-H.  At the very moment I saw the young girl with her green felt hat, the words ran through my mind:

 I pledge
My head to clear thinking
My heart to greater loyalty
My hands to larger service
My health to better living
For my club, my community, and my country...

 

When you recite a pledge once a month for over 7 years, you tend to remember it well into your 60's. Today, the pledge has been revised somewhat to include the "world", as it is a more diverse organization with a wider reach.

 

In the rural foothills where I grew up, neighbors were miles away, we rode a bus to a three room school house and every boy and girl joined the local 4-H club.  The boys usually raised a sheep or steer, learned about electricity and other manly stuff, and the girls gravitated to the more homey endeavors.

 

I learned to sew in 4-H.  My Mom was  the sewing leader and under her direction, me and my friends learned how to make the trademark 4-H sailor collar and an apron in our first year.

 

I learned how to speak in front of people in 4-H.  Members were required to give demonstrations at least once a year in front of the entire club.  Nerve racking as it was, it gave us all our first taste of public speaking.

 

I learned about serving in 4-H, but most of all, I had fun. The opportunities to meet other kids even outside our own club were endless. I think I had my first crush on a boy from a club some 40 miles away...I only got to see him around the camp fire at the annual regional camp in the mountains.

 

I learned the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat in the competitive exhibitions at the county fair.  Blue ribbons were coveted, and I can only remember getting a couple...mine were reds and even some whites. I was not the seamstress that I am today, but by high school I was making many of my own clothes. That experience led to the designing and making of wedding gowns, selling hippie dresses in Berkeley, sewing the dozens of prom dresses for my daughter and evening dresses, suits, and every form of clothing for myself today.

 

My daughter-in-law recently told me that my granddaughter expressed an interest in learning to sew. I was 10 when I first joined 4-H and she has a year to go.  But it made me wonder if I shouldn't perhaps share my craft with a small group of young girls...perhaps even get involved in the 4-H program...yes, they even have clubs here in suburbia!

Woudn't Collette be proud?

 

Laurel.  Still sewing after all these years.

 

Sharing with

Think I'll "Labor" today...

Happy Labor Day, friends! Dave's gone fishing today with a friend and I am hoping for a nice land-lock salmon dinner tonight! But in case he strikes out, I'm thinking we'll be doing leftovers.  After all, it's Labor day (holidays are still special even when you're retired:) and I don't feel much like cooking.  Besides, tonight around dinner time is THE fantasy football draft...so my chief BBQ er will be tied to this computer to pick out his winning team.

In the meantime, check out what I've been doing this morning...

We picked all the figs off the tree yesterday , threw the split ones out and I still had enough to make three jars of freezer jam and give some to my neighbor.  I use this jam to make my fig, onion and goat cheese tarts.  It's a great appetizer with a glass of wine.

And I worked on a new knitting project for the Fall.  The yarn is a rust colored chunky wool and will be  poncho to wear with my jeans as the days get cooler.  I am ready to start on the "lace" pattern that flows along the bottom half of the poncho.

Yesterday I was up at my Mom's for Sunday dinner (fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy and green beans with bacon and onions --YUM) and she showed me some parsley that she had dried in the OVEN!! It retained it's green color and smelled delightful.  Thought I would try drying some of my fresh oregano this morning....so far, it's not looking too good...think I had the oven too hot.  We'll see.

Happy Labor Day everyone..."what chu workin' on??"

 

Sharing with Creative Monday

 

 

Laurel. I don't have to go to work tomorrow.  Tee Hee.

"Fantasy" football?



 

Dream on, little Cowboy, of a better team and a better America...

 

 

Dave, in Cowboy Stadium.

America's team?

Of this I'm sure

we'll probably lose

another year.

 

With Jerry and Barrack

we're drowning fast

we need new leaders

let's change the cast

 

We can't oust Jones

He owns the team
But we can change
our country's dream

Perhaps a Tebow

on some sacred grass

Will change our future

  and we'll kick ***!
 

 Laurel.  And So it Begins...Cowboy Football and Presidential Elections.