Is 103 Hot Enough?

A hundred degrees when I left work, and 103 (briefly) in downtown Kent. This town is like a skillet on a hot stove--the valley is always warmer than the "official" temperature. It's only 98 degrees at the farm, which sounds so much cooler compared to triple digits! I'll be bringing out the big fan tonight.

IT'S HOT

I realize this isn't a news flash to anyone else currently living in the Pacific Northwest. But it deserves mention here (in future years, I'll want to look back and remember these rare uncomfortably hot days... or will I?). My office windows look south, shaded by a couple of big trees, with a view of more trees and a Kent wetland. Beautiful, nice, cool... it's a lie. I just walked through the machine shop to the engineering offices, and when I stepped through that door, the heat was like a wall I had to push my way through. Yikes! how do the machinists stand it? It was 90-something on my car thermometer at lunchtime; I wasn't brave enough to look closely enough to read the second digit. I wasn't worried about this lack of knowledge... going home tonight, it will most likely be in the triple digits.

The First Blog of the Rest of My Life

OK, I admit to feeling the pressure. After all, this is the very first entry on my brand-new blog. The journalist in me is holding out for the perfect lead. The technical writer in me says to just start writing, and let the editor clean it up (that's me, too). The best thing of all? Once I've posted a few notes, this one will slip to the bottom, out of sight.

At least, that's what I thought... but then I figured out how to change the posting date, which means I can write a blog about anything that's happened in the past. So although this blog title records my first ever blog, it isn't the first blog anymore.

Some Things Just Aren't Fair

I got in touch with an old friend from Tri-Cities today, and got some sad news. Another friend from those years was diagnosed with lung cancer last September, and the day before he was due to start chemotherapy, they discovered that the cancer had grown at an alarming rate, and he passed away a month after he was first diagnosed. Mark was always health-conscious and in great shape, and he never, ever smoked. We always laughed that Mark went to an early morning aerobics class of women; he was the only guy. For him to die of lung cancer is the supreme injustice.

So I write this in memory of Mark Edward Massart, 1954–2008.

St. Augustine, Florida

In St. Augustine is a fort that dates back to the 1700s. We loved the late afternoon light shining on the old stones of the fort, and as the sun began to set, we got some beautiful shots over the water, with the full moon beginning to shine above the sunset. We wandered all around the outside, took a ton of photos, and watched the moon rise.

As we left, we chatted with a park ranger about the fort, and he told us about the film crew that was shooting scenes here tonight. We were heading into town to see more of the old section with its stone buildings, then chose a Cuban restaurant for dinner. We had window seats overlooking the waterway and bridge, and could watch the horse-drawn carriages go by. The paella for two that we chose was very, very good, and so was the wine I had with it. Dave had a margarita with his dinner.

After dinner we walked back through town, which was very lively even at this late hour. Our rental car was right where we left it (not that I expected otherwise), and we drove back across the bridge to our little motel and crashed. The room is small but clean, and the bed was very comfy. A good thing: we're driving to Savannah tomorrow, and the alarm will go off early.

Zebra Lighthouse

Near St. Augustine, Florida is this beautiful lighthouse. We could see it from the beach, where we did a geocache before heading for town to look for a motel. The lighthouse was down a short road through a neighborhood of old homes, a beautiful black & white spiral painted tower, capped by a red metal roof. It’s a working beacon, with original Fresnel lens.

We didn't realize how big the structure was until we got close. Look how tiny the people are, out on the circular deck around the lens. We could have taken a tour of the grounds and climbed the tower, but we were anxious to get to town and find a motel, then visit the 1600s fort before the day ended.

Why do you only find striped lighthouses on the East Coast? Our Pacific coast lighthouses, from Canada to Mexico, are painted white.

Snow Bookends

Tonight I opened the Columbia Crest Two Vines Shiraz I bought at QFC. It was very good, especially for the price. It’s a 2005, the year the experts are predicting to be one of the best vintages ever for Washington State.

On one trip to load wood into the stove, I noticed the deck was white… again. I peeked outdoors, and it was snowing hard with two inches already on the ground! How cool is this… my 17-day holiday was bracketed by snow at both ends, just like bookends.

Primitives

I've been looking for old hand-turned, shallow wood bowls… used for dough rising, and often painted on the outside. I’d like to build a nest of them for my country kitchen.  It would be very cool to find some of these dough bowls outside of eBay. The ones I prefer are either naked (no paint), or painted only on the outside. That way you can sand and oil them, and be able to actually use them. 

I’d also like to finish up my nests of old yellowware bowls (I'm working on nests of dark brown, and green). These are heavy earthenware bowls with rims, in graduated sizes so they nest together (thus the name given to a complete set). The smallest is about 4 inches across, the largest is 12 inches (a guess; I don't have the largest size). Nests are usually 6-7 bowls. I was way behind the 8-ball on these—by the time I started collecting them, prices were pretty high. This is the McCoy ivy design; one of the more expensive bowls. Mine are simple, with a striped glaze.

But a lot of primitive wood dough bowls are still affordable, although really large bowls that are signed with the maker's mark are really expensive. I've seen 20+ diameter bowls going for $650+ on eBay. Both of these fit right in with the decor in my antique farmhouse kitchen.

I sure miss antiquing expeditions with Linda...  there are shops near Yelm in the old backroads towns that I’m just itching to visit, and it's so much more fun with company.

Getting to breakfast is gonna be a challenge

After a decade of watching the Green River Gorge bridge slowly become misaligned with the highway, the Washington Department of Transportation has finally closed the bridge. They’re routing SR-169 traffic through Ravensdale or Green Valley for at least the next 6 months while they figure out why the land on the south side of the bridge is moving.

The final straw was a recent landslide that came pretty close to the south bridge abutment, and they're not sure the bridge is stable any longer. So until they drain off the water and figure out how to prevent another slide, they’re not taking any chances. Since the road and bridge have been misaligned for years as the land moved sideways, the only surprising thing is that it took the DOT this long to start working on the problem.

No GPS required

A new cache near the Soos Creek trail was announced this morning, (I get e-mail notifications), and I thought I'd go home by a different route, and pick up the cache on the way. At lunch I pulled up the cache description and found it on the map, and knew exactly where I needed to park. When I drove in and looked around, I knew exactly where it would be. The cache description was all I needed; I didn't even take my GPS with me! Sometimes finding a cache goes this way, sometimes it doesn't. That's one of the things that makes this sport so much fun!