Fishy...

Madison slept underneath her new minky cat blanket all night, and we all woke up early to winter temperatures. There's a lot of ground fog, but it will burn off in a few hours. It was beautiful.



The canister filter for the fish tank quit working yesterday; we were glad to find one locally and not have to wait for one to be shipped. We picked it up this morning (and some new fish), and Dave happily spent the afternoon cleaning and testing water and fertilizing. I was equally happy working on a 2018 journal layout, so I can start catching up.

I heard some sad news today... one of our closest friends lost his mom to cancer. She lived eight years longer than the doctors predicted, and I'm so happy he had the extra years with her.

Torn...

It will be an interesting month, this first month of 2018. Two weeks into a brand new year, and already I feel like I'm being pulled in three directions.

DW and I are still on our geocaching streak, heading toward 1001 consecutive days of finding at least one cache a day. It gets us out of the house, rain or shine... a good thing. And we enjoy getting together with people we've met through this fun sport.


A Bug lost in the woods... in the Danville-Georgetown open space. 

The second pull (yank?) on my time is quilting. This is the year I decided to learn hand applique, and I really don't know what took me so long. I started by making blocks for a sampler quilt, and now have three applique quilts in work. All are applique and embroidery, another love of mine. It's been fun to have a basket of blocks to work on each evening, once we settle down after dinner to watch a movie.

And finally, the this is also the year I'm determined to get more proficient with my Nikon dSLR, and finally make the move to manual mode. To that end, I've signed up for a year-long online photography class.

I know that I will feel pulled in all directions this year, and hope to find the time to keep up with regular entries in Electric | Journal. It was hard last year to keep up (and I didn't). But however things work out in 2018, I will certainly not be bored

A year with my camera...

A Year with My Camera started today... my first online photography class, and my first photography class in thirty years. I already feel part of an exciting community of people who want to improve their photographs. It's a free year-long class, and it will be a fun year.










Perfect reflections on Lake Crescent, March 2017

For years I've watched my online friends journey through what I like to call keyword classes: each day (or week or month) they're given a word, which forms the basis for a photograph or essay. I've been tempted to join in, but could never figure out how to make such a class fit into my life.

Then last fall, I learned about a class that sounded like a perfect fit for me. Taught by a photographer in England, the goal is to get us off auto/program modes and comfortable in manual mode, and learn how to use our dSLR's controls to get the images we can see in front of us, but struggle to capture. 

As a warm-up and for fun, she sent us a list of 30 topics to capture. Things like vintage, older than me, abstract, pattern, and just two colors. Things to think about when taking (or finding) a photo to match. Because I procrastinated and didn't sign up for the class until the end of December, my approach was to search through my photo library for an image that fit each word. This is my photo for "Break the Rule of Thirds."

So, here I am, playing along with a keyword class, something I never thought I'd do. And to my surprise, I liked doing it! It got my creative juices flowing, and I'm looking forward to a year-long journey.  

In retrospect...

Although we chose not to take a road trip this year, in favor of getting some big projects done around house and cabin, we made up for it by taking a few short trips around our beautiful state. And somewhere along those back roads, I managed to capture images that made it into my favorites list for 2017. I hope you enjoy the look back.

January | a beautiful old farmstead on the Enumclaw plateau




February | Frosty mornings took me out several days with my camera. On one frosty morning on the way to breakfast before a hike, I found this lovely barn.

March | A few days in Port Angeles for our anniversary, hiking in Olympic National Park, and walking the beaches. We stayed in a cute little cabin on a rushing stream, swollen to overflowing from all the snowmelt. On our way to Sol Duc falls one early morning, we drove past Crescent Lake when the air was still and the water was calm, and there was snow on the hills.

April | The month was spent whipping the gardens into shape and mowing the pastures, bookmarked by day hikes whenever we could get away. On one hike on the Landsburg trail, we came across a bobcat track in the mud. This blue snail was much less threatening.

May | A visit with friends in Ellensburg, then a week in Sunriver with our Leavenworth friends. We geocached and they golfed, we had another go at the Bend Ale Trail, and did lots of back roads exploring. Winter hasn't let go of the Oregon cascades yet; it snowed!

June | Mount Rainier beckoned, still surrounded by snow and ice, but the roads were finally open. Three times we made the drive, to enjoy the snow and the views, and explore. Once the snow leaves the high meadows, we hope for more hiking in my favorite national park.

July | We volunteered at Suntop Lookout again this year, sitting up late to read by lantern light, and waking by 4:00 am to watch the day break, camera in hand. The wildflowers were spectacular, especially the beargrass. With a 360-degree view of the mountains (and two other fire lookouts), this is a supremely magical place. (Sorry... it was impossible to choose just one photograph.)

August | More mini-road trips, including the family camping trip (on Whidbey Island this year). It was a pleasure to wake early and take off for a solo drive around the island with my camera, and watch the sun come up. Hydrangeas coming into bloom, deer in the meadows, old barns, and a solar eclipse were highlights of our weekend.

September | The Northwest was on fire this month, a horrible sight to see. Our skies were filled with smoke for weeks, and tens of thousands of acres burned. We spent my birthday on top of Crystal Mountain, hiking and enjoying an early dinner overlooking the mountains, and staying to watch the sunset over Mount Rainier. Later in the month we headed back to the salt water again. A few days in Sequim was just what we needed to escape the smoke from the wildfires.

 

October | More hiking, taking advantage of a break in the weather. We visited Windy Ridge, overlooking Mount St. Helens. We climbed Mount Margaret, in the central Cascades north of Lake Keechelus, to find the oldest geocache in Washington. A few days later, we hiked to the ghost town of Monte Cristo. We also spent a few days in Bellingham and on Whidbey Island.

On a "let's turn here" road in the Skagit valley, we stumbled upon a hundred acres of snow geese, just arriving for the winter. They're early this year, and I didn't expect to see any until November. DW squeezed the Pilot into the shoulder of the road, and I stood at the fence, in the cold wind, for nearly an hour. Corn grew in this field all summer long, and the geese were so busy feeding, they didn't mind my being so close.

November | In early November, we went out to our lakeside cabin to do end-of-autumn chores, and close it up for the winter. We had some of the most beautiful sunrises at the lake that weekend. Then we headed over the Cascades for a wonderful, relaxing visit with friends outside of Leavenworth. Good food and wine, visits to town to shop and watch the Christmas lights being hung, wine tasting, snuggling under the bear quilt, and getting acquainted with their new puppy. We drove home in the snow, the first of the season. 

December | A return to the cold brought early morning hoar frost to the pastures, and gave us a white Christmas for the first time in a few years. We spent a weekend at the ocean with friends, had lots of family time, and there was time to spend in the sewing room, finishing up some quilting projects. A very fun, relaxing month!

 

I hope your 2017 was grand... I can hardly wait to see what 2018 brings!

Winter...

I love to watch the fine mist of the night come on,

The windows and the stars illumined, one by one,

The rivers of dark smoke pour upward lazily,

And the moon rise and turn them silver. I shall see

The springs, the summers, and the autumns slowly pass;

And when old Winter puts his blank face to the glass,

I shall close all my shutters, pull the curtains tight,

And build me stately palaces by candlelight.

-- Charles Baudelaire, Les Fleurs du Mal

All the leaves are brown...

Oaks are only native here in a few places, including the prairies south of Olympia. It's always nice to go for a hike here in the winter, once the oak leaves begin to fall.

All the leaves are brown, and the sky is gray

I went for a walk, on a winter's day.

Grey day...

We wandered the back roads of Thurston county all day yesterday, looking for caches. And barns to come back and photograph, once the weather clears up a bit. Yesterday it was too soggy to even take my camera out of the Pilot.

This morning we went downstairs for coffee and food, waiting for our friends to arrive. It rained right up to 7:00 am, when the weather service predicted the rain would stop. And it did, right on time. Amazing.

It stayed gray most of the day, still, the time spent at the beach was great fun. By the end of the day, the six of us had found 44 caches and more than earned our Mexican dinner.

Foggy morning...

It was foggy when I got up this morning, pulling on my boots and coat for a very early morning walk. I grabbed my camera and gloves, and slipped quietly out the front door.

There was still snow on the ground, and it's cold. To grab a phrase that belongs to Christmas, "not a creature was stirring." No animals bleating for their breakfast, no cars on the road. It was utterly still, and beautiful.

I crunched through the snow to the barn, where a pair of owls raised a family this past summer.

The 1910 barn on my sister and brother-in-law's property is one of my favorites. I walked out to the road, intending to walk up the hill to get a different view. But as soon as I stepped onto the pavement, I felt the ice under my feet.

So I retreated back to the warm house, a fresh pot of coffee, and my book.

And through the woods...

I admit to humming the tune when we set off for my sister's house on Christmas Day. "Over the river and through the woods, to grandmother's house we go..."



Although I have no real memory of going to my grandparent's house on Christmas Day, I know we did just that one December, when I was perhaps 5 or 6. We took the train to Denver for a visit, and I can only imagine their small house filled with family. My grandparents, my parents, my mom's sister, and the six cousins.

My sister has made this a tradition... a house full of family. And I treasure all the memories from all the Christmas gatherings since our parents passed away. Watching everyone grow older, opening presents, playing games with the kids, cooking dinner together, lingering at the dining room table over wine and dessert, making the day last as long as possible.

It isn't a train that speeds me to the open arms of family these days, but a ferryboat. And every Christmas morning, I can hardly wait to load up the car and get on the road, anxious for the first glimpse of the white and green ferry that will take me to my sister.

Frosty...

Winter solstice has arrived, and just like that, so has winter.