You can fool the fans - but not the players.... John Cage

Yosemite in May - just another version of breathtaking.

Sometimes you just get lucky and hit it just right. Not too many other people, no road work, not too many wildfires and the accompanying smoke in the air... just the always amazing views of Tuolumne and the Yosemite Valley.

Tenaya Lake, which we were skating on not four months ago...

Just beginning to wake up from its snowy sleep.

Dogwood in full bloom in the valley - the lower elevations are fully green and lush.

Shot along the banks of the rushing Merced River.

I could have stayed here all day.

This is the time to get to Yosemite. Even though the campgrounds are full on the weekends you can still squeeze in midweek.

The view from Tunnel overlook on Hwy 41. Classic.

Bridalveil Falls.

Taken from along the road below. The Merced on one side, this on the other.

I don't know the name of this waterfall, but it was across the valley from Bridalveil.

Merced River.

Oops!

Get on a plane, train, bus or in your car and go there, NOW!

Yosemite in May - just another version of breathtaking.

Sometimes you just get lucky and hit it just right. Not too many other people, no road work, not too many wildfires and the accompanying smoke in the air... just the always amazing views of Tuolumne and the Yosemite Valley.

Tenaya Lake, which we were skating on not four months ago...

Just beginning to wake up from its snowy sleep.

Dogwood in full bloom in the valley - the lower elevations are fully green and lush.

Shot along the banks of the rushing Merced River.

I could have stayed here all day.

This is the time to get to Yosemite. Even though the campgrounds are full on the weekends you can still squeeze in midweek.

The view from Tunnel overlook on Hwy 41. Classic.

Bridalveil Falls.

Taken from along the road below. The Merced on one side, this on the other.

I don't know the name of this waterfall, but it was across the valley from Bridalveil.

Merced River.

Oops!

Get on a plane, train, bus or in your car and go there, NOW!

The I-don't-have-a-home-to-stock swap meet blues - the Choo Choo

Living in limbo makes it hard to truly enjoy a swap meet. From plants to antiques to furniture, if you don't have any place to put the stuff what is the sense of buying it? And reeling as I am from our three storage unit reality I have no desire to add to what we already have sitting there. It is scarey enough to think about unpacking some day.

So the Choo Choo Swap Meet, while still worth going, did not hold the usual sense of adventure for me. T&B planned to get up early and get out, and I went with them just because we only have a swap meet here twice a year and really, who wants to miss that? It is a social event and an bi-annual must-do, practically a local holiday. It is a local holiday, as it is held in tandem with the Home Show, the MikroBierFest, and Taste of the Sierra.

Saturday dawned chilly and breezy, giving me a good excuse to wear the Arc'teryx jacket I had just spent too much money on but was glad I had. It took hours to warm up and I wore that jacket until we went to lunch. I felt sorry for the vendors who had to huddle around their piles of stuff waiting for us to buy and I guess hoping that it would warm up a bit.

 

This is the first thing that caught my eye. If I had a house this would have really been tempting, but the fur throw would have had to have been included. I wandered over close enough to sneak this photo but the image of all of our current furniture piled high in storage was enough to discourage further investigation. I'll just remember the potential.

 

This chair was a no-brainer Vasa chair. Right color, right vintage... but alas, no grass to put it on. No deck, no porch, no piece of dirt for it to call home. I did sit in it briefly, but then the $125 price tag catapaulted me out and on down the row.

 

There was a man who made outdoor sculptures out of all kinds of salvaged junk and they were so stinkin' cute. There were tall sunflowers made out of fan blades and daisies made from horsehoes... animals cut from salvaged car metal and other junk. I'm not usually drawn to "garden art" of this nature (gnomes, flamingos, etc) but I was tempted by these. Again, no need cause there's no garden! All my garden exists in pots right outside my door right now and it all has to be hauled to the resort and then back down in the fall. Pass.

So what did I buy?

 

Traveling stuff. I picked this sage green vintage suitcase up for $2 and can use it for storage this summer. These stack nicely and hold some functional value.

And this:

 

A great wire dishrack perfect for the trailer. And it fit into the suitcase!

Even though I didn't buy a whole heck of a lot, the Choo Choo is still so much fun for browsing, people watching, visiting with folks you haven't seen for awhile, and getting out to do something different.

I can't wait for October's Choo Choo!

The lonely house.

I'm sorry I've neglected you, little blog... it is just that we've been terribly busy with moving. Boxes, and furniture and things long forgotten out in the garage... so much stuff to deal with. I'm sure I did not edit enough - we have packed in a storage unit items that we'll never need or want again - but I did the best I could and I'll edit again when we unpack. If we ever unpack. Right now I'm ready to hit the road with only what fits in a 24" trailer.

I got a little melancholy once our pace slowed and the house was empty. Up until that point I'd been philosophical, practical, and eager for the next step in our lives. But walking through the empty rooms I was suddenly overcome with memories and all the love that was in this house.

We shared so many meals that came out of this kitchen and I watched seasons change through those windows. We really loved the layout of this house and it worked well for us, our family and friends who came to visit and stay.

This is a rare sight as JC does not like an empty fridge... he and I think very differently when it comes to a refrigerator. Right now, in the Rambler, I have just what I need and no more. Nothing is hiding in the back, no leftovers that won't get noticed until it is too late. He likes an abundant fridge - one full of opportunities. I like a lean fridge, one that I can keep a close eye on.

My baking counter. Many scones and cookies were rolled out in this corner. Christmas baking with the TV tuned to Channel 77- the music channel with the view of the Sierra, where I'd watch storms roll in as the house filled with the smell of sugar, cinnamon, cloves, chocolate, and butter.

And my lovely art room. A beautiful mess of paper, metal, resin, and more. My refuge during the blazing hot days of summer. The extra bed for the poor, unfortunate visitor that didn't get the GROG. This was the most luxurious space I've ever had for making and creating... it will be sorely missed.

My art room spilled over into the laundry room and that counter was the painting area. The cat ate his dinner on one end, the sewing machine sat in the middle, and the paints were right across from the sink. Right outside was our back yard; hummingbirds at the feeders and our laundry drying in the sun. So many loads of laundry sorted and folded in this room. A catchall for those Christmas decorations that got overlooked when we packed the rest off to storage.

Command central for teaching. How many Adobe Acrobat Live sessions did I record from my desk in this room? JC abandoned his desk after his new laptop and it became a flat surface for storage... but he was often in here making fires in the winter, filing VVR paperwork, and watching football on one of the multiple TVs he'd have tuned to the NFL.

Our room - with our view of the bird feeder, our chorus of frogs from the water feature, our lovely animals. We will miss this room.

This doesn't appear very often in my world... an empty closet? Of all the features in the house that I truly loved I didn't much love this closet. Cramped, the only one for the both of us... it was tight. But we made it work.

Good-bye dear bathroom. Loved the double sinks. Hated the permanently-spotted-with-hard-water-spots glass shower. Watched myself grow older and larger in this mirror... a by-product of that abundant fridge noted earlier.

Yes, we will miss you sweet house. So many good things happened inside these rooms. So many wonderful people stayed here with us. We are off to make new memories and we hope that the next people to move in here stay and very long time and enjoy all of the wonderful features that you have to offer. And we hope that we find a place that provides the space for making new memories just as wonderful.

Malti-Poo hits jackpot, wins big

This little guy got really lucky...

The day before Easter he was left with his toys and his shot records on our daughter's driveway...

We'll never know the story behind that. But we don't think it was entirely random, we think K&S were chosen because of how well they treat their dog. Perhaps whoever had to give up this puppy knew that they'd find him a good home (or keep him).

I just happened to be down south. K just happened to text me about this ball of fur. I mentioned it to my mother. And on Easter....

This puppy found a new home. His temporary mom reluctantly but joyfully said good-bye,

and Marley found his new human companion (and gained another canine companion to boot!).

Marley will never know the rocky start he had to life and how very very lucky he is, but already he has enchanted all of us and become a cherished, much loved member of the family.

What a series of coincidence, chance and good fortune. Just makes you wonder, doesn't it?

That's my horse, of course.

Almost four years ago my friend IM and I headed north to buy horses. Two for he and his wife, one for me. I had high hopes. It was a long-time dream coming and the time seemed like now or never. Truthfully, it might have been a bit late but this is when the pieces all fell into place so this is when it had to be.

We brought home yearlings and embarked on what was -for me - a pretty epic journey. Injuries, hospital time, discouragement, self-doubt, discovery, learning, finding help, finding myself... I don't know, that might pretty much sum it up.

 

 

Along the way I've learned a lot more about people and horses. I've watched Stacy Westfall's magical ride on the mare Roxy countless times.

I've watched Buck Brannaman ride, inhaled his teaching methods and can now hear his voice in my head as I ride. I've got Bill Dorrance's book at home and notes from clinics that I carry with me. I've got diagrams and sketches. I'm a horsemanship freak now. I want to know what my horse is doing every minute I'm riding him or her. I am now the alpha mare more than ever in all the years I've been riding.

I'm learning to trust myself so that she has something to trust.

I'm scared to death every day that I'll screw it up, but so far so good. I'm getting good about watching other people and getting help. I'm a little overly-cautious but I think I'm growing out of that as I realize that a horse needs precisely the opposite. Firm consistent direction and no wishy-washy riding. Ride every ride.

And it is happening. The most incredible feeling of trust and understanding growing between two distinctly different species.

Oh, it isn't anywhere near fully developed yet and we have a long ways to go. But it's there and it is all I ever hoped it might be. Finding a place in a horse's life is like nothing else in the world. It takes so many elements I did not understand at first. It isn't about food or intimidation or repetition. It is about confidence, practice, response, sensitivity, and most of all, time.

“Horses are consistent and logical. The horse will do what is easiest for him. If you make it easy for him to buck you off, kick you, and run away, that’s just what he’s going to do. And more power to him. But if you make it easy for the horse to be relaxed and calm and accurate — and also have it be a beautiful dance between you and the horse — it won’t be too long before he’ll be hunting for that just as hard as you are. Whatever you make easy for the horse, that’s what he’s going to get good at.”

Buck Brannaman

Searching for spring - road trip south

Spring in the eastern Sierra is fickle, tempermental, and enough to drive a person crazy some days. It is actually a good time to flee - seeking warmer temps and green since it takes awhile for things to start growing here. I've been heading south the last few years and I've yet to be disappointed. Spring in southern California is predictably lush, warm, and verdant. This year was no exception.

 

This last trip was typical - I dropped out of the windy, cold high desert down Cajon Pass into the moist, heavy, luxurious air of SoCal and immediately my skin plumped up, my sinuses cleared, and my senses were filled with the sight and smell of growing things.

 

These flowers were blooming along the bike path near the Clew Ranch where I audited the Buck Brannaman clinic. I took a walk during the break between horsemanship and cow work and just sucked it all in. The warmth was heavenly, the flowers were a delight, and there was no wind.

 

We get these wicked winds out of the north here in the Owens Valley that just rip through clothing, blow gravel into your hair, and make life outside a challenge. Just to have a few days without wind was a little slice of heaven.

 

My mom's garden was even more of a delight - the jasmine, rosemary and lavender were all in full fragrant bloom. We left the windows open so that the scent would drift in at night and I snipped little sprigs of jasmine that filled my room with perfume. Right before I left I cut a big bouquet to have with me in the truck, and it has perfumed our living room for over a week now.

 

There's a price that comes with the perfect weather of SoCal and that is population... so I'm happy I live where I live but I'm equally happy that some of my family chooses to live in and around San Diego. It is a six-hour drive to a whole 'nother world.

 

Five days down there can get me through a lot of weather up here - and eventually the winds die down here, the lilacs start to bloom and we enter that brief period of perfect outside temperatures. Babies are born all over the valley - foals, lambs, calves, bunnies - and EVERYONE heads outdoors.

Time to enjoy the window between the wind and the heat.

Is the bloom off the Anthro rose?

If  you've been reading this blog for any length of time you know that I've had a love affair with the Anthropologie displays for some time. Whenever I visit a city with an Anthropologie store it is high on the "to-do" list to check out the windows and the store displays. The creativity has always inspired me and I love that most of the materials are ordinary, everyday items (like paper plates and fabric scraps) and that many displays are made up of salvaged or recycled items.

The last couple of visits to San Diego, though, have left me less than inspired. Okay, so maybe kind of inspired but not to the degree that I used to be. So what has happened? Has it simply run its course? Or is my opinion colored by the recent articles I've read about the Urban Outfitter / Anthropologie / Free People CEO Richard Hayne? Am I able to separate the design team and the whole aesthetic of Anthropologie from the man who runs the show?

 

And what the heck is this? Pantyhose?

Ugh.

I've also read a little more on the design "internships" offered for college credit and the criticism levied on that topic. You can read a recent Atlantic Wire article on the unpaid Visual Design Internships here.

 

How much should the company matter to me? I usually end up buying something on these design jaunts, so my money supports the current practices of the corporation. And it bothers me that the path to becoming a real part of the design team seems to be opaque. Do you have to start out as an unpaid, college-credit earning intern?

At the same time the color, design and inventive uses of materials still makes my blood race and more than any other store Anthropologie encourages a menthod and style of decorating that anyone with DIY leanings can emulate and be inspired by.

I don't think there's any danger of losing me and my camera phone as a visitor anytime soon, but these things have been on my mind this year and I've thought that I should seek out creative, independent shops that have creative design teams and tout them in my blog. Like Junkee in Reno.

And Monticello in Portland. Problem is, how often do I get to Portland?

This is where you, my dear readers, could be of help. Is there a great, independent shop in your town that embraces the art of display? Is there a designer that you know of that uses ordinary materials in extrordinary ways? Uses recycled, salvaged, or waste materials?

Send me your submissions - let's start a data base of great independent designers.

I'll continue to blog about Anthropologie but I'd like to start blogging about people and not so much tooting the horn of a big corporation.

And where do these designers go once they've completed their unpaid internship or their stint with Anthro?

The trumpets are sounding and the calvary is gathering: To the independents! To the solitary shopkeepers who toil away at displays without the benefit of unpaid help!

I'm glad that Anthropologie gives creative people a platform on which to perform their magic and inspire those of us who like to see unique displays. I don't want to lose that platform or not support it, but I think there is as much value in seeking out the indies and shining the spotlight on their work.

Please, feel free to post information on any local designer you know who is elevating the art of display in the comments. If we get enough I'll gather them all together and link them in a post.

A weekend watching and listening to Buck Brannaman

Over the years that I've had horses I've been fortunate enough to attend a few horsemanship clinics and I've read my share of books & watched more than a few DVDs on training. Ray Hunt, along with Bill and Tom Dorrance, developed and taught a method of horsemanship based on learning to feel a positive response from a horse and build on that. It has changed many lives, both horse and human, and Buck Brannaman is following in Ray Hunt's footsteps. One should never pass up a chance to learn from a master, so when I found out that Buck was going to be teaching a four-day clinic not 10 miles from my mom's house it didn't take me long to plan a trip that coincided with the clinic.

It, of course, was full and had been full for a long time, so I couldn't participate with my horses, but I could still go, listen, watch and learn. And I did. I came home with a head stuffed full of tips, "Buck-isms", things to practice, things to strive for. And I got to watch all kinds of riders AND the man himself.

The mornings were horsemanship and the afternoons were cow work. The photos I took of the horsemanship aren't very exciting, but the cow work was a lot more action.

 

Cutting is a really exciting sport that depends so much on the horse having cow saavy, wanting to do the work, and being physically ready to do the quick turns, stops and spins that it requires.

 

A good cow horse is a thing of beauty, power and focus.

That little calf wants to get back to his buddies,

And the job of the horse is to stay between the calf and his buddies...

Those calves are quick and agile,

The rider needs to stay on and stay out of the way...

Stay balanced on the horse...

 

So the horse can do its job.

It is quick and exciting to watch and I can only imagine how much fun it must be to be on the horse.

Probably not as much fun for the calf, but it doesn't last long.

No wonder this sport attracts all kinds of people. I'm ready and I've got the horse - I just need to rise to her level and start doing it. I'm going to start today by practicing all the things I learned over the weekend, the biggest lesson being that there is no gift like the gift of time. Time on the horse, time to let the lessons sink in and become a part of riding, time to let things sort themselves out.

Like everything else - like art, like relationships - it takes 10,000 hours to get through the crap and on to the good stuff.

Strange relationships

We were all struck down hard by the loss of Bella a month ago and it has drawn our diverse little family closer together.

 

Our cat has liked all of our mature dogs. He tolerates the puppies.

 

Now there is just the two of them and we see them together more often.

 

They've formed a strange pack and have included the two of us.

 

I know they both miss Bella.

 

It will be interesting to see how this relationship morphs once we get another puppy.

 

Puppy? We're getting a puppy?