The Bins

Officially known as the Goodwill As-Is Store.

Little known, even to veteran Bay Area thrifters, The Goodwill As-Is store is a treasure hunter's paradise. There are at least five dozen 6wx4dx8h bins on wheels overflowing with clothes, most of which didn't sell in regular Good Will Stores, for whatever reason. They weren't stained or torn. They were actually in good shape.

Jen and I were there to hunt for wool sweaters, the kind I make the scarves out of. We began digging in the back. After eight bins, we decided to check out the front dozen bins. After about an hour, between the two of us, we had sixteen great wool sweaters, a pair of jeans, a blanket, a sheet, a t-shirt, a skirt, some cool blue and red fabric and a decorative pillow case.

But, more importantly, we figured out why there were people standing in two lines, shoulder to shoulder, facing each other. They are the regulars. The ones who come every day. They were waiting for the fresh bins to come out. Which as soon as they did, the contents were being spilled on the floor. Fascinating.

Oh, and the people watching! Awesome! Some of the best I've experienced in San Francisco. Very colorful people. My favorite was the large, black man whose outfit keep evolving. He ended up wearing a pink and orange skirt over black pants, with a white lace shirt over a black shirt covered with a large, sequined and furred black sweater, topped with a black knit hat with a black fancy doll hat attached. He was looking for fire red tulle. He already had loads of white and didn't need anymore of that. Fabulous. Really.

Haunting

Harry Potter is haunting me! Well, my dreams at least. And it's not really Harry, but the more unpleasant aspects of the stories that invade my sleeping.

See, last night Mark and I went to see the new Harry Potter movie. In the last week, we watched the first three in preparation. So, I've had a lot of exposure.

The only time this is a problem is when it's just before bedtime. It's a problem because whatever I'm exposed to during the evening is what I dream about that night - and I have vivid dreams. Sometimes it's about quilting or knitting or the book I was reading, and last night it was about magic, mostly dark. Not fun.

Maybe tonight I'll watch something innocuous, like Gigi or Sound of Music or Friends. But definitely nothing even remotely scary!

Thanksgiving

The best part of my Thanksgivings this year was definitly the Annual Fray Beach House Pumpkin Toss. Andi and Jake came into town for Thanksgiving and we had a full on feast at their family's beach house on Saturday. It was an absolutely gorgeous day. The company was pleasant and the food was delicious. I did the mashed potatoes and gravy. (The most important part of the meal.)

After the first food coma wore off, Jake's mother gathered the troops for the Pumpkin Toss, where we each take a pumpkin and chuck it off a cliff onto the rocky beach. One may say this is a horrible waste of pumpkin, but this little bit of the coast produces a lot of pumpkins. So many, in fact, that even when the tens of thousands of baysiders (as opposed to coastsiders) invade the coast every October taking away several perfect pumpkins, there are still rotting masses of orange in the fields.

So, with this in mind, the crunch of the pumpkin pictured below, was very satisfying.

The Messy Quilt

I probably won't work with silk anytime soon. It sheds a lot! This is the back of a quilt I'm done with except for the binding. It definitely is one of the brighter items I've ever created!

Photoblog

After a week break, I've put new photos on the photoblog!

Leaving Home

By Garrison Keillor

(sense a theme?)

Garrison Keillor is funny. In that understated, monotone, perfectly serious kind of way. He's able to tell an absolutely ridiculous story with an absolute straight face. Or at least that's how I imagine his face to be, because I've actually only heard him on Prairie Home Companion on public radio. He grew up in Minnesota and has done many radio shows and books based on the abundance of stories there - either lived or told. In his stories, I recognize characters from my growing up and I recognize my Grandpa as the storyteller.

I'm currently reading "Leaving Home," a collection of short stories from the first dozen or so years of his radio show. I'd like to share a few snipits with you.

Some quotes
"Life is complicated and not for the timid. It's an experience that whenit's done, it will take us a while to get over it."

"Barbara came up on Friday with her two-year-old and took all three of them [the two-year-old, a four-year-old, and a five-year-old] to her friend Ruthie's house to visit. Ruthie has three of her own. Her three and Barbara's three sniffed each other for a moment and then two cats made the mistake of coming around the corner of the house into the backyard. The cats realized it was a mistake and backed away saying, Uh, sorry, didn't know you were here. We'll come back later. But the kids grabbed them, hauled them indoors, got them dressed and into a doll buggy, two little cat children. The cats went limp, waiting for a chance to break out, which they did--two cats in full regalia, one up the tree, one on the garage roof, trying to remove their clothes, five children in pursuit, and the two-year-old investigating the back porch."

"Selective ignorance, a cornerstone of child rearing. You don't put kids under surveillance: it might frighten you. Parents shoudl sit tall in the saddle adn look upon their troops with a noble and benevolent and extremely nearsighted gaze."

Homesick

A couple of days ago now, I had a huge bit of homesickness, stemming from several things.
- a desire to have someone take care of me because I had a stomach bug.
- a desire for a garden or even just dirt and trees in my near proximity.
- a dream of living on a farm again.

That morning, I was reading "Leaning into the Wind," a collection of stories written by women of the West that I purchased in the Grand Tetons. It is full of stories where the central theme is their connection to, love of and respect for the land. Granted, mid-Missouri land is friendlier than a lot of the West (we're talking Montana and Wyoming and prairies, here, folks), but the feelings for the land are universal. So, it reminds me of Missouri and the relationship my family has to the land, and then the homesickness sets in.

I realize what I'm missing. I was always the smart one, the one who would go to college, have a fancy job and live in the city. And because of that, at least partially, I was never taught how to raise a garden or to shoot a gun. I was never given a shot at being any sort of farmer and connecting with that land was never supposed to be that important. It's something I've continually had to seek out. "Hey, can I help in the garden? Can I spread the manure? May I help?" People look at my quizzically, but they generally agree.

So, what do I do? Right now, I need to find a garden. I think I'll sign up for a garden class in the spring. And, in a few years, move to a place that has dirt outside and try my luck. Maybe, eventually, I'll get back to the farm and see what happens.

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig

I've been home three days. San Francisco is experiencing an Indian Summer. The weather has been beautiful - sunny, mid-70s (which means mid-80s in the loft). Despite that, I've spent most of the last three days sitting at my sewing machine.

The road trip was punctuated by all kinds of creatives - fabric stores, scrap stores, artisan shops, designers, yarn shops, art students, painters, quilters, photographers. And I bought a beautiful art quilt book that I spent hours pouring over. So, I had to go on a creation binge. The first afternoon home I made nine recycled sweater scarves. The next day I started a pink, orange, peach and green silk quilt top from over eight hundred 2.5 inch squares. It's really quite lovely, though it did make a mess. Silk fabric sheds more that wool yarn by at least infinity! I finished the top last night before making dinner.

I have at least six more quilts in my head ready to be put together. Thankfully, for Mark, no more of them are silk!

Another Take

Scott, an ex-boyfriend, recently spent a couple of days in Missouri with my family on his way back east. He had a very good visit with my dad and grandparents and wrote about it on his blog. I thought some of you might be interested in an outsider's take on Missouri.

Nov 15, 2005 Tuesday

I'm writing by the light of the full moon - easily as bright as the headlamp, which is rendered useless. It's warm still. or warm enough for me not to huddle in the sleeping bag yet. I'm camping at Lake Mendocino. It's $20 and I can hear the freeway, but it was here, it's not the KOA (the only other campground anywhere around) and I was tired. I was on the road at 9 this morning, starting above Port Orford, OR. It's 8pm. The coast was beautiful. There are a few places I would like to go back to: the Klamath area, the Port Orford area and the dunes.

There are other tent campers here. They're the first I've seen since the Grand Tetons in September.

I took a road today without knowing where it went - a narrow road with only intermittent pavement - along the coast through Redwoods National Park. Everyone else seems to know about this road, but I found it without a map. I have great satisfaction in that. I had no idea what to expect. I loved the sense of adventure from not knowing.



I'm finally at ease. with myself in this unemployed odyssey. with the road trip genre of travel. with driving and camping alone. I'm ready to go home but I'm not rushed. I'm ready to go back to work, but I'm not anxious. There are some things I have to do first, and then it will be time.

I have to pee. And then I think I'll stare at the moon until I fall asleep.

Dawn Redwood

This is Mark admiring a dawn redwood in the Hoyt Arboretum in Washington Park, Portland. (He came up to see me and Portland for the weekend.) When I first saw them a few weeks ago, I was alarmed. Redwoods are supposed to be green! Are these sick? No. They get to turn colors in the fall with the other trees. It is truely a beautiful sight.

I'm leaving Portland today to head down the coast, which, miraculously, has a forecast of partly sunny for the next few days!

To Linda Lee

Hi Linda!
Thank you for your comments. I'm sorry my email wasn't working for you. I'm glad you like my scarves. I'll start working on one (with a hat) in periwinkle, cream and white for you. It won't be ready until mid-December, so I'm glad you "can't have it til Christmas"! I don't have a way to get a hold of you. So I hope you check back and see this. When you do, try emailing . That one always works. Or you can call me at 415-533-7284. I'll put my number on my next batch of cards!
Thanks, again!
-Velma

Under the Bridge

I spent half an hour today looking for Troll Avenue. Well, actually, I didn't know there was a Troll Avenue, I just knew there was a troll under the Freemont Bridge in Seattle. Neither the troll or the avenue are on any maps, probably because it is DIRECTLY under the bridge.



Yes, that VW bug is real.

San Juan Island Ferry

Yesterday, I took the ferry from Vancouver Island to Anacortes, Washington through the San Juan Islands. It was a sunny day! The ferry was nearly empty and the water was calm. This was a very different ferry ride from the one to the island, which made everyone who attempted to walk look drunk. The islands were quite pretty. Most of them had steep forested hillsides that dropped straight into the water! It would be a nice place to go back and spend more time in some year.

Salmon Spawning

Two days ago, I went to Goldstream Provencial Park on Vancouver Island because it's right in the middle of salmon spawning. I spent over an hour watching the beautiful, big fish swim upstream. There may be more than one fish in the picture, but the spotted one is the only one I see. It happened several times that the fish would all move at once and I would suddenly see five or six more than I just had. It truely was amazing. I took some short videos with my little camera. If I knew how to post them I would, because it gives you a better sense of the fish. But, as it is, I'll just have to save those for Grandpa.

Butchart Gardens

Today I went to the Butchart Gardens outside Victoria, BC. It's probably the whole reason I came to the island. When I was little, Mom and Dad took a trip and visited here. I've been looking at the pictures of them in the fabulous gardens for 20 years and wanting to go. So, here I am.

This morning I took a tour of the greenhouses. It ended up being a private tour as I was the only one who signed up. They only do the greenhouse tours in November, because at other times of the year, the greenhouses are too full and busy. I thoroughly enjoyed the tour - learning about different greenhouse types, planting methods, and getting a general sense of what goes on behind the scenes to make the garden beautiful. And it's a lot.

The gardens themselves are even more beautiful than I imagined. The sunken garden is a genuine fairy-land. Too bad my yellow fairy skirt was in the car! The Japanese Garden was a symphony of color. I'm sure this is where Dad fell in love with Jap Maples.

Spring Hill Farm

On my way up the Olympic Peninsula, I stopped at Spring Hill Farm to see where Dad gets some of his wool for his yarn. I got there at just the right time. The rains had stopped for the afternoon and it was time to feed the sheep! This is one of the lovely romneys.

Odometer

Magdalena has passed 100,000! Since July, I've put over 4,000 miles on my little car and that's not from city driving.

Troy of Helen

This is me with Troy of Helen. Two days ago I drove up to the highest viewpoint of Mount St. Helen's. At one of the stops, I met a nice woman from the East coast who was also traveling alone. We decided to head up to the end of the road and have a little walk. Before we set out, she had the brilliant idea of building a snowman. So, meet Troy of Helen.

Trees

I love trees. This has been a beautiful trip for trees. I've seen fall colors on them for the first time in five years. Yesterday, though, was a less beautiful day for trees. Driving to Olympia from Portland via Mount St. Helen's, I saw numerous clear cuts and many logging trucks. These things always make me sad. And yesterday I sobbed.


Just as I started up the road to the volcano, my ipod (on album shuffle) choose to play "Who bombed Judi Bari?" It is a cd that tells the story of Earth First organizer Judi Bari through her own speeches and songs. This was a very powerful, inspiring, raging, depressing, moving, draining thing to be listening to as I passed the trucks and cuts. I listened to it twice in a row.




Here's the basic story...

The corporate logging companies of Northern California have an agenda to clear cut as many old growth trees as possible in the summer of 1990 before the vote that fall on an initiative to protect those old growth trees. The goal of the logging companies was to make the vote and initiative pointless by making there be no trees left to protect.

A note about old growth trees. They're over 2000 years old, over 30 feet around, and several hundred feet tall. It takes about a dozen people stretched hand to hand to go around one. They are the most magnificant creatures I have ever seen in some of the most sacred habitat on the planet. When they're cut down, the rainforest turns to desert. The runoff clogs the rivers, kills the fish and creates mudslides that jeopardize the lives and homes of communities at the bottom of the hills.

Many people felt that logging the trees at that pace and that clearcutting as a practice are unacceptable. (Selection logging is good and can even be used to improve the health of the forest.) So, Judi Bari, a mother and long-time rural resident of Norther CA, called for Redwood Summer, a summer of non-violent, direct action to slow down the cutting of the trees. In May 1990, on a tour to promote the actions, she and Darryl (co-leader) were pipe-bombed in their car. After being framed and arrested for being terrorists and transporting the bomb that blew them up, they filed a civil lawsuit against the FBI and police in charge of their investigation. After over a decade in the courts, the jury passed down this verdict:

Jury's message to feds in $4.4 million verdict for Judi Bari and Darryl Cherney

On June 11, a federal jury returned a stunning verdict in favor of Judi Bari and Darryl Cherney in their landmark civil rights lawsuit against four FBI agents and three Oakland Police officers.

The jury clearly found that six of the seven FBI and OPD defendants framed Judi and Darryl in an effort to crush Earth First! and chill participation in Redwood Summer. That was evident in the fact that 80% of the $4.4 million total damage award was for violation of their First Amendment rights to speak out and organize politically in defense of the forests.

For more information about this, please visit www.judibari.org

If you would like a copy of the cd, just let me know. I'd be happy to get one for you. There is so much more to the story and I can't begin to convey how inspiring, dynamic, and vibrant Judi Bari is.

The Original Velveteen Bunnies

Natalia has the two cutest and softest bunnies ever. They are Rexes. Imagine the softest velvet you've ever felt. Make it a half inch deep and warm and that's her bunnies. They're names are Jack and Abigail Wormwood (brother and sister, not married). This picture is of Abby. She's shy and mysterious, a little skittish and a high jumper. Her brother is extroverted and must have his pets and his food. He doesn't jump as high as she does.