Eventing...

How do geocachers celebrate New Year's Eve? with lots and lots of geocaching events, that's how! Of all the events to choose from, we managed four:

Ring out the year with a kick = early morning coffee in Parkland
Thanks 2018, End of Year of the Dog = hot dogs at a cute little place near Green Lake

Did Love find 2018 caches in 2018? = mid-afternoon brew and conversation at Fremont Brewing
Say Goodbye to 2018 with the WSGA = a big party! Dinner and a glass of red with caching friends in Renton. After all the food today, my dinner was a yummy appetizer of Brussels sprouts.

Really, really wet...

Heavy rains were predicted for today... bummer. Because we're going to Shelton for a geocaching event. Breakfast, then driving the back roads and logging roads, picking up geocaches along the way. And today, getting very, very wet.



We did the route backwards, so it was a couple of hours before we started running into fellow cachers. Like at this remote location, south of Lake Cushman in the Olympics. Cold, windy, rainy... searching in the woods for the elusive geocache. Eight of us looked for this one with no luck. We went back to the Pilot, where I stayed. Wisely, I think. Everyone but us gave up and moved on, but DW thought he'd take another look just as another group arrived. And this time, he found it!

We stopped halfway through the route at a cache hidden deep inside a wrecked Model A (I made the find this time)... we were just outside a bakery, and were soaked and cold and needed a break. And hot coffee. And a big scoop of Olympic ice cream.

The day finished up at a local restaurant for dinner, and it was amusing to see the level of commitment of caching friends based on how wet they were. One gal made a beeline for Walmart to buy new clothes, then came to dinner. I was so glad we brought a complete change of clothes, from head to toe.

Family snow...

A day in the mountains (snow!!) is often how my sister chooses to spend her birthday, and this year, I tagged along. There were three generations in my sister's van, and we're going to spend the afternoon sliding down the hills at Stevens Pass.



Heading east on the ferry, out of the rain and into the snow


The nordic area at Stevens has lots of parking, warm bathrooms, and lots of sledding hills. We pulled on snow pants and more layers under warm jackets, and the kids were off and on the hill before we knew it.

This dog was dressed as warmly as I was!



My nephew is a snowboard instructor at Stevens Pass; he met us with a couple of cool snowskates that the little girls took to like ducks to water.







The day couldn't have been better: plenty of fresh snow, comfortable temperatures, lots of giggles and laughter.

I was glad of the hours spent in the snow, especially with my family. The way things are going, it might be the only snow play I will get this winter.

Christmas day...

It's a tradition that I treasure, and look forward to every year:  Christmas day with my sister. When our parents died a couple of weeks before Christmas, we began this tradition of spending this special day together. Our family loved this holiday, and our parents made it special for their three daughters. And we've done what we can to continue their tradition.



So early on Christmas morning, DW and I get up early, and catch a ferry to the island. We start the day at our niece's house, have breakfast and share hugs and talk, watch the little girls open their gifts, eat more breakfast, play games, play pool, and if we're lucky, watch the snow fall.

Then we move the party to my sister's house. We cook dinner together while we snack on brie and crackers and sometimes grilled vegetables, then sit down and have dinner and wine. This year we made mini tamales together, for an appetizer. And my sister made three kinds of enchiladas for dinner, along all the toppings and a big green salad. It was a great meal, shared around a table full of laughter.



Then before the little ones crash, we open more presents. DW and I spend the night, so we sit up late with my sister and brother-in-law, a few special hours just the four of us.

Seeds from my garden...

The past few years, my sister and niece have given me seeds harvested from their beautiful gardens. This year, with all the new perennials I added to a new flowerbed in the fall, I was able to harvest seeds from a lot of new plants. So come Christmas, I decided to repay the favor.



In a basket of stamps, I found the perfect one: From the Garden of. Just what I wanted, and in the perfect size. I ordered tiny kraft envelopes, sorted my seeds among several packets, and dated them. Besides my sister and niece, I have seeds to send to my dear friend, Linda, who lives in Ellensburg.

Columbine, Black-Eyed Susan, Purple Coneflower, Pincushion flower, Rose campion, and Campanula. These grow very well in my garden, and I hope they will do the same in theirs.

Catching up...

The past six months or so, the story of my life where my blog is concerned. Busy, torn between too many passions. When it's nice, I want to be outside. When it rains, or snows, or is too cold... I just want to sew. That's good for the stack of unfinished projects, but not so good for writing and taking photographs. In the new year, just around the corner, I hope that will change.

One of the old projects I've moved to the top of the stack is this log cabin quilt, made from pastels. It's a very old pattern, called Cabin in the Cotton.



I set it aside when I made a wedding quilt for my niece in 2006, and never got around to finishing it. There have been many others that passed under my needle, but not this one. Lately, I've been in the mood to work on it again, and it's been a great project to take to my Wednesday sewing group. I only have about 30 blocks left to make, the large blocks, and the tiny ones, then I can cut the white sashing strips and start making the top. Maybe I'll take this one to my retreat the end of January.

This is the complete quilt from the book. Isn't it gorgeous?

Long lost...

A day of back roads driving, marveling at the green of this December (but I still haven't given up on snow for Christmas). I was headed toward a happy few hours with an old friend from my horse show years, who runs a hunter-jumper barn in Monroe.  There's nothing like walking into a barn and hearing my name called from the other end, "Hello, long-lost friend!" Today was a reminder to treasure friendships, and keep them strong through the years. Those friends will always be there when you need them.

Runners...

In all the years I've been quilting, I've never made a table runner. I've made full size quilts, and tiny quilts just 12 inches square. But never a runner. Until now.

We have a new cabinet for a new television, and I won't put anything on it unless there's something to protect the wood. So, a table runner.

I picked some favorite fabrics from one of my favorite designers, Kansas Troubles Quilts. Dark red and sage green and gold, colors that go with the big area rug in our living room. It's a bit fussy to make, because I've already arranged the fabric squares exactly where I want them. So it will live on the design wall while I add the corner blocks, one square at a time. I think it will be perfect.

Welcome home...

Each year, one of my quilt guilds chooses a project, something we can all work on together. One year, the project was to make applique blocks for a quilt. It could be wool applique, or any form of applique using quilting cottons. Another year, we made a quilt from a panel. Each new project teaches us new techniques.

This year, we're making medallion quilts. And in my usual style, mine is made from tiny quilt blocks.



The first month, I started with the little red farmhouse with a blue sky. The second month, I added the gold and cream frame made with half-square triangles. The third month, I added the black frame. And for December, I made a handful of tiny 9-patch blocks (3-in. square) along with plain squares. So far, my little quilt is 15-in. square. This far, I followed a pattern in a favorite book of Civil War quilts. But from now on, it will be all mine.

I'll keep adding borders until June, when my guild takes a break for the summer. I plan to add some embroidery details, like window frames and a wreath on the door, after I hand-quilt it. And if I'm really happy with the finished quilt, I'll enter it in my other guild's quilt show in 2020.

I named it "Welcome Home" because of the farmhouse. Because every time I come home to my own little farmhouse, it welcomes me home.

The muted colors of winter...

The cold lingered all day yesterday. Everywhere we went, we found icy creeks and frosty pastures, and rocks coated with crazy spires of ice.



But the fallen leaves rimmed with frost were my favorites. Dropped by a multitude of trees and mixed by the wind, they lay together, fused by ice and frost. Green and dark brown, gold and cinnamon.

The muted colors of winter are so beautiful.

Unplanned...

Sometimes unplanned trips work out the best. This weekend we took off for Port Angeles, a quick trip for two nights, for wine club events, some geocaching, and as always, a lot of back roads exploring.

This morning we headed out with mugs of tea, intending to have breakfast at a favorite cafe at the airport south of Port Townsend. Then we wandered the country roads toward the Strait, heading for a few geocaches on our list. We slowed down for a broad corner, and there it was: the Acadia Country Inn. We literally slammed on the brakes and looked at each other. We spent our tenth anniversary in this historic house.



When we stayed there, the house was a bed & breakfast, just one of its many incarnations. Built in 1908, the house and farm began life as a private residence, then a hazelnut and fruit farm, a brewery and speakeasy, a brothel, then a boarding house, bed and breakfast, and a vaudeville circus base camp. Today it's a private residence and event center, and also has a tasting room for wine, cider, and mead.



The first time we stayed here, we had the attic room that included the turret-shaped dormer. The second time, we stayed in the corner room that looks out over a grassy pasture, facing where I was standing today.

Today was a cold and gorgeous day for a drive. The mountains were sporting fresh snow, there was frost on the ground, and the sky was streaked with clouds.

Toes...

I headed out the door this icy cold morning, and on the bottom step of the porch, stopped dead. Lit by the early morning sun, I spotted two small footprints in the frost. So I set down my quilting totes, and took pictures.



No claws showed with the prints, so I don't think this was a racoon (although we've seen a whole family of racoons on our porch before). And they're too big for a house cat. Maybe a bobcat? I should have placed a coin for scale, but I thought of it too late.

Barn symmetry...

When farmhouses still stand side-by-side with their barns, to me that's perfect symmetry.

Cabin quilts...

We decided to spend Thanksgiving at home this year, just the two of us (and Madison). So today, instead of making pies or deciding which wines to take tomorrow, I packed up my sewing machine and quilt projects, and headed for Peggy's.

I finished the last seven blocks for a quilt called Checkerboard Stars, then pulled out a quilt I started back in 2006 called Cabin in the Cotton. It's a pattern from the 1930s, made from Log Cabin blocks in pastel colors, set on point with white sashing strips in between. It's fussy and time-consuming to make, and so worth it... the blocks are beautiful. I have about 40 blocks done, with 32 large blocks (and 20 small blocks) to go.



This has been a good project to take to my Wednesday sewing group, easy to work on while talking. And we do a lot of talking, the four of us. It was a fun, fun day... I love these ladies!

I don't have a photo of the complete quilt, so searched around on the internet and found the original quilt, c. 1933. It is in the collection of the University of Nebraska International Quilt Study Center and Museum, in Lincoln, Nebraska. This is what mine will look like, one of these days.

Runner...

All the years I've been quilting, and I've never made a table runner. It could be because my dining table is round. Maybe.

But our new stereo cabinet is low and wide and beautiful, perfect for table runner. To be fair, I tried to find a braided rag table runner to match the others in my house, with no luck. So I set aside my other quilt project, and picked out fabrics from a stash of my favorite Civil War-era fabrics.

The table runner will be simple, and quick to make. Just 5-in. squares with corners from the same black-figured fabric.



When the blocks are joined together, those cream corners will become a diamond at the intersection of each block. A simple technique that looks complicated when finished.

Welcome...

This quilt has been a long time coming. I cut fabrics from my stash a couple of years ago. At a retreat last February, I made all the blocks. Last week I sewed the blocks together, then the rows, then squared it up. The ladies I sew with every week suggested blue for the border, and I found the perfect fabric in my stash.

Today I cut borders, which turned out to be a challenge because of the three blocks that wrap around each corner. But the top is finally done. The book I got the pattern from calls this quilt "Welcome Wagon."

All that's left is to piece a wide strip to add to the backing fabrics, because I think the back of a quilt should also be interesting to look at.  Then I'm ready to baste the layers together, and quilt it. This quilt is so very geometric, any fancy quilting will be lost in the pattern and fabrics, so I'll quilt it with a simple grid. And that means I'll be able to do it myself. And I love that.

Rough morning...

Waking up for any reason at 3:30 in the morning is bad enough. But this morning was truly awful. Flashing lights woke me up, but the gunshot really got my attention. We couldn't see much from the house, so DW walked down through the pasture and then he saw the horses, dead on the road. A deputy came to the door; he told us that a woman hit both of them, and miraculously walked away unhurt.

The deputy was looking for help finding the owner of the horses, and as we talked, we realized who they belonged to. We have fairly new neighbors, a young couple with three kids. They've been working hard to replace fences and repair the barn, and although their place isn't on the county road, their horses have gotten out before. We gave him directions, then waited and watched. And a while later we saw a tractor come down the private road, and one at a time, our nice young neighbor hauled them home for the last time. It just broke my heart.

Foundation is everything...

Today was a first for me: I went to a photography expo. It was fun and I learned so much. I went with a friend who wants to learn more about landscape photography... and is smitten with the new Nikon mirrorless cameras. There were some amazing photographers giving presentations, and everyone shared tips and techniques. And the whole day was free, courtesy of Kenmore Camera.

And thanks to a presentation by Nikon's national training specialist, I think I've settled on the perfect wide-angle lens for landscape photography, finally.

Raging...

This morning, DW and I headed for the little town of Snoqualmie and breakfast at a tiny diner right in the old part of town. We lingered and watched the rain fall, then drove downriver to see our magnificent waterfall, Snoqualmie Falls. The river is near flood stage thanks to days of rain in the Cascades, and we knew the flow would be about as high as it gets. 

                      Our spectacular 269-foot Snoqualmie Falls

As we walked through the trees toward the edge, we could already see the spray high above the river. Two hundred feet from the railing, we were getting soaked. Raincoats helped, umbrellas were useless (as many were learning the hard way).

Leaning over the railing, the falls was am amazing sight to see. The water over the falls thundered down to the river, then bounced up nearly half the height of the falls. The spray from the falling water blew up and soaked everyone along the edge. 

It isn't always this full, of course. The river has flood controls, and in past years I've even seen it with nothing but a trickle of water. One of these days I'll dig up those photos and post them; seeing the falls with no water is almost as interesting as seeing it at flood stage.

The end... or beginnings?

The end of summer too often signals that I'm running out of time to accomplish a list of tasks I assigned to myself... and I need to let go and be happy again, that maybe I gave myself too much to do... that maybe the weather will hold and I'll have plenty of time... that maybe nothing on the list was that important in the first place.

I'm always better when I wake in the early morning to the scent of autumn in the air, and know that the world will slow down and time will be there once again. Summer is too hectic, too hot, too short for me, and I'm always glad when I can shake it off and relax, and settle into a new routine, a slower pace.

And does any other season arrive with such a blaze of color?

Houses on lakes...

I'm a sucker for a house on the shore of a lake. Especially if it's a historic house. And shingled. 

On the way south to the cabin this morning, we took a detour west, up into the mountains on the east side of Olympic National Park. There's a geocache we've wanted to find along the shore of Lake Leland, which was homesteaded in the 1870s. The people who live here, some descended from the original homesteaders, have gone to a lot of trouble putting up signs and maps to highlight their history. Some of the original buildings still stand, including this beautiful shingled house on the water.

Out to the cabin with Madison...

It might be the last weekend at the lake this year... the weather has turned cold and wet, and it's time to winterize before the first hard freeze.

Madison was patient through the drive, a breakfast stop in Port Orchard, a longer stop at our favorite used book store, and some geocaching.

The light over the Bremerton navy yard was gorgeous, with a storm moving past on its way to the mountains. We found a cache near this sign; guess the birds didn't get the message.

We're staying for a long weekend, and came prepared with books and hand quilting, and there's plenty of firewood for the woodstove. Tomorrow we're heading north to Port Angeles for a wine club event to celebrate the wild mushrooms that are so plentiful here, paired with good red wine. We'll spend the night, and take the long way back to the cabin, looking for photographs and maybe more caches.

Evening comes early now, and light streams across the lake and into the trees. We only have a few deciduous trees here, and their leaves have already fallen. The evergreens, the fir trees and huckleberry and salal, keep the woods dark, even on sunny days. Today with the dark clouds, the porch lights came on early.

Horse fix...

In my family, one little girl in each generation has been a lover of horses... me, then Jessica, and now Ella. I made the journey to the island today to watch her riding lesson, and it was a joy to watch how confident she is around horses. From collecting her mount's tack and setting it up in the grooming stall, taking down his halter and walking out into the pasture to collect him, then brushing him and cleaning out his feet, she was comfortable around this big guy. She only needed help with bridling and tossing the English saddle up on his back, then she was on and riding out to the arena for her lesson.

Her mom and I leaned on the arena fence and talked while we watched, and I remembered watching Jessica learn to ride at just about the same age. I always dreamed of a daughter that I could teach to ride, but that wasn't to be.

My horses are long gone, so I'm so grateful to have a niece and a grand-niece to carry on the tradition... and to give me a horse fix whenever I need it.

Winter pears...

The orchard is putting itself to bed for the winter. The grass has been mowed, and the leaves are starting to fall. I've picked the fruit I can reach, and the last few pears and apples are coming down. I know the deer will welcome the treat.

Autumn in the garden...

It's done. Finally.

In the middle of this 25-foot-square area once stood a tall fir tree with a trunk nearly 6 feet in diameter. We had it removed a few years ago, and the stump ground to wood chips, and this garden has basically been neglected ever since. It has sprouted volunteer fireweed and iris and thyme and rose campion with little help from me; I pulled weeds, and stayed out of its way. And while I waited for inspiration, I collected plants and transplanted seedlings, and finally this fall, I dug the whole thing up.

I shoved boulders around to make a loose rockery around the outside, leaving room for annuals come spring. I backfilled with dirt, and raked wood chips out to the edges. I left clumps of thyme and sweet woodruff, and planted everything I've been saving (plus some new additions): there's a spiral of rose campion plants around a bird feeder, surrounded by day lilies, rosemary, columbine, iris, coreopsis, purple coneflower, hosta, and black-eyed susan. There's a winding path, and the back corner (under the lilacs) will have room for a couple of Adirondack chairs.

My favorite cottage garden plant is the tall garden phlox. I love the flowers and the smell is heavenly. But unfortunately, it's a favorite of the deer, too. I saved a place for a few more plants, and will just have to figure out a way to keep the deer out of it. I also love purple coneflower, but they've always been short-lived in my garden. This fall I found some cold-hardy varieties, so fingers are crossed that with mulching during the winter, it will survive.



My rosemary died a few winters ago, and the new one will need mulching, too. I just hope I left enough room for it... the tag says it could be six feet high and four feet wide, if I don't keep up with the pruning. But there will be lots of fresh rosemary for any of my friends and family who want it.

Madison...

She is a 15-pound ball of energy, except when she decides to take a nap on my lap.
Then she becomes 15 pounds of fur.

History...

We explored a bit in south Everett today, and while doing a geocache at a fire station, found this perfectly preserved old fire engine. They gathered together some artifacts, and built a glass-walled building to house them, right on the grounds of the fire station.



It sometimes seems as though people are hell bent on destroying history and everything that tells us who we are and how we got here. They tear down historic buildings in the name of progress, and in the name of making money.

So I appreciate seeing evidence of people who are doing the opposite, spending money to restore and preserve a piece of history, however small. And I thank them.

Live in a schoolhouse

I could live in an old schoolhouse, I think...

Especially one that's painted barn red with white trim.
With a killer view of Hood Canal.
And my own saltwater beach, just across a quiet street.
And views to the east to watch the sun come up.
And to the west to see the last light of every day.

Fallen leaves...

The shoulder of the road was thick with fallen maple leaves, and while DW searched out a perfect spot for a new geocache, I let my camera take me for a walk. The colors were beautiful.



I remember when the salmon habitat restoration dollars were spent on this narrow stream, replacing the old culvert with one large enough to stand in, and laying logs across the gravel beds to slow the stream. It is a beautiful spot, and I'm generally in favor of restoring salmon spawning streams, but I never understood why money was spent here: in the 25 years I've been driving this back road, I have never seen any water in this stream.

Golden time...

It was a picture-perfect day at the lake.

No chores to do, just a day to relax and enjoy. The sun shone all day long, and the sky was the deep blue of autumn. Ducks swam past, and fish rose, and the lake was calm and flat.

We spent the evening talking and catching up with our oldest friends, drinking good wine, eating food cooked over the campfire. And then a beaver swam past. We haven't seen one on our lake for years, and it was a special moment.

We watched the sun go down, and the golden evening light spread across the lake and the trees. It was magical.

Modern? Not me...

Modern isn't my thing, not at all. I love traditional homes with gables and dormers , clear fir floors that look like burnished chestnuts, and cottage gardens. That's my thing.

So when it comes to quilting, the same love for the traditional burns strong inside me. Fabrics from the Civil War era, and feedsacks from the 1930s, and the old quilt patterns like churn dash, and grandmother's flower garden. I love the colors and the style.

My quilting guild brings in some amazing speakers each month, and tonight a local quilter brought in samples of her quilts, and she shared her ideas for crafting borders that mesh perfectly with a quilt design. Her philosophy is to ignore the rules if they get in the way of your vision, and just have fun with your quilting.

After her presentation, she invited us to come up and handle her quilts, take pictures, ask questions, and perhaps be inspired.

I was.

I loved her sense of color. These greens and blues and chartreuse weren't colors I would have chosen, but they went together beautifully. I also like how she blends traditional with "wonky." Like these four-patch blocks with random triangles on the corners.



Once she arranges the blocks to suit her vision, she quilts the top by stitching "in the ditch," right along the seam lines. This stabilizes the top so she can  let her imagination run wild with more creative quilting, like these random circles. With a geometric design, circular quilting can really set off the quilt.




Wonky works well with square-in-a-square patterns, too. In this quilt of more muted colors, squares of random sizes are framed with strips of fabric, then they're all trimmed to make blocks of the same size. Once stitched together into a quilt top, she appliqued stars of metallic fabrics on top.

This small quilt was quilted in orange thread, using a walking foot. It starts out with simple straight lines, but changing every inch to a tight zig-zag stitch, this . That little touch of creative stitching took the quilt to a whole new level.



Even though wonky blocks and modern colors aren't my style, I learned a lot tonight about letting go and giving my creativity room to breathe.