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.