Chelan in the Springtime

About half a year ago (yes, I am running behind on my blog) I went to Lake Chelan. It's gorgeous.

So I thought I'd share some of its pulchritude with you.

Left: The tree at the top makes me think of the oft-lamented Seahorse Tree. Also, I love how springtime clouds can be white and gray at the same time.
Below, Top Right: A bunch of bare apple trees. And some getting-green hills. And some grey not-so-puffy clouds. And a surprisingly blue sky. And half a stOP sign.

Below, Top Left: Blossoms at the park. :)

Below, Right: The town has in the last fifteen years or so become the Washington version of Napa. (I think that Napa snobs would be very upset at the comparison...but if the grape ferments...)

Below, Left: Low lake. Wonder what it looks like now?

Left: Saw Easy Street and just had to have a pic.

Right: View of one of the bridges over the river.









Left: All that grey fuzzy looking stuff is actually a conglomeration of apple tree branches. Acres and acres of them. From a distance they look like warm fuzzies. (well, at least fuzzies. The warm is automatically implied because I'm me. :) )

Right: Here's another bridge.

Right: The view from my balcony at 5:45 am. (There was a "fun run" that I was in charge of that began at six... Ugh.)

If you drive up the mountain approximately ten miles, the view of the river is gorgeous. I parked my car in the scenic pullout and climbed a little way down the hill (I was in dress shoes, so I was a sissy and didn't go much further). I turned around and looked back, and my car looked like a car ad...the kind of shot they do at the end of the commercial when they've shown the "Closed course. Professional driver. Do not attempt." in tiny letters at the bottom. 

Here's the view. I can't really do panoramic on the blog without smooshing the pic together, but hopefully from l-r you'll be able to see how pretty it was, even in pre-bloom springtime.

The first one is on the approach; the rest are the 180 view from where you see the car.

 Sometimes, a picture is worth a thousand words. It was so peaceful...I think only one car drove by me the whole ten or fifteen minutes I was out there, just snapping photos (some of myself with the view in the background...but none of those turned out satisfactorily enough to post). It was so beautiful it made my heart sing.

Just Stick It On Your Head...with a side of pancake.

Me: Hi, IGPM! How are you? Are you having a good day?
IGPM: I'm fine. Guess what? Mom made a plan. It's a plan to have pizza every Friday for dinner.
Me: That sounds like a yummy plan.
IGPM: It is. You should come have some pizza on a Friday sometime.
Me: Well, I'd love to, but I can't for awhile, because I'll be moving. Remember that I'm moving?
IGPM: Yes, I knew that. (pause. Then, hopefully:) You should stick the idea on your head though. It's a good idea!
Me: (trying not to laugh) Yes, it is a good idea.
IGPM: You shouldn't forget it. You should come on a Monday sometime, so you can stay with us and have pizza on Friday. You should come at...(another lengthy pause, with mom coaching in the background) Christmas!! Yes, you should come at Christmas.
Me: I'd love to, honey, but we'll have to see. [Ick. I hated it when older people told me that when I was growing up. I inwardly cringed as the words left my mouth.]
IGPM: Just remember to stick it on your head. (then, without prompting:) I'll remind you every time in case you forget!


SO CUTE.

Even more cute was when he looked at me with a look so full of love it made my heart sing a little and said, "You are yummy as pancakes!"

That was quite possibly the nicest compliment I've ever been paid.

Decisions

Where to go:
Turn right or left, go fast or slow.
Jet to New York, Paris, or Moscow.
To the groc'ry or to the old fort,
Head for bed or see some sport.

What to Wear:
Paisley or plaid, blue-black or brown.
Yes to the raincoat, or else I'll drown.
Sandals or peeps, stilettos or boots
Pants with some stretch? Or seersucker suits?

Where to Live:
Mountains required, no roaches please.
A pantry, garage, and A/C? Don't tease!
Not too hot or too cold, and never, ever, live with mold.
A washer and dryer in a place not too old.

Where to Work:
Respect and appreciation too.
Yes to the desk job, no to the zoo.
Portland or LA or DC, Seattle
Deciding who's boss is always a battle.

Frolicking Foursome

Here is a little story for you.

Once upon a time, after the horse races, some good friends decided to go to Dairy Queen for some light summertime refreshment of the beverage sort. One of them ordered chocolate chunkiness. One of them ordered a smoothie. One of them ordered something else that was unremarkable. And one of them ordered something pretending to be lemonade but was actually a sugarbomb.

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Then they got in the car and listened to Gotye and other angry girl music. As they whizzed down the road with the windows down and the speakers up, they passed beautiful forested properties and some really big houses which seemed really too big to ever want to live in but seemed majestic and somehow covet-worthy all the same.

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They came across fields of marshmallows but elected not to stop and pluck them.

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After they had journeyed for awhile, going around bends effortlessly in German-engineered grace, they alit at Grandmother's House, which was open and smelled of good things and seemed wholesome and wonderful in the way that only good old people can. There were even peppermint patties in the special "secret" pot on the bookshelf.  They knew Grandma didn't even like peppermint patties - she just kept a stock of them around for the sentimentality of it, knowing it brought the kids and grandkids pleasure.

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Then, after borrowing some jackets in various shapes, fabrics, and sizes (because all good Grandmas have a stock of the essential things in life for when their grandkids come by unannounced), the Foursome set off to frolic.

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They ended up passing the Wicked Metal Gates, and stopped to do an experiment to see what it would feel like to be wicked, and/or metal, gates. But the gates couldn't keep them from the river, with its sandstone bottom and tiny jumping fish.

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Armed with only flip-flops (3), flats (1) sunglasses (3) jackets (4) and smartphones (1) as weapons, they marched into the forest, listening to music and calling out to each other as they made their way toward the river.

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When they arrived there was plenty to do:
1. skip rocks                                                                              2. ponder                                                                                3. take pictures of themselves
                                                      

 

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Then one of the foursome fell into a trap: unwarranted preening via picture. She got what she deserved because one of the other four snuck up on her and poked fun. It happened so easily...like one...two...three.

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Then they breathed the joy of life into the river and a blanket of mist arose, spreading quickly, like a ray of sunshine or a patch of morning glory.

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And the foursome gloried in the strength of summertime sunsets, fantastic friends, and rambling rivers, and celebrated the mist, the season, and their camaraderie with yoga moves, conjuring tricks, and other serious nonsense.

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After their River Respite, the little band wandered back to the road. At one point the tiny path seemed to converge on itself and go only in circles and the merriment was momentarily dampened as memories were consulted and the Road More Traveled was found. There were biting bugs and snagging shrubbery and beautiful berries involved. The one in the dress decided that forest-wandering perhaps is not best done in a skirt.

The girls trundled along the road until they came to a bridge - the gateway to the field. They couldn't contain themselves, and right there and then, they began to frolic. It wasn't the frolic of small goats, or fireflies, schools of fish, or flocks of birds darting in flight. It was somewhere between galloping and leaping and cavorting and every other good movement descriptor thingie.

And then they moved on, and frolicked in the field, which you can see in all its blurry glory to the right, and if you look past the road below, you'll be able to see it. It was mown down to about 9" tall, mostly, and then there was a perimeter that had been mowed further - a single mower-width of shorter grass.

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The girls abandoned the pavement and were leaping about, trying to click their heels in front of them (awkward and not very safe), behind them (foolish, but quite entertaining to watch) and to the side (that really works best).

Two of them went ahead, shouting as they ran toward the river, their enthusiasm making their companions, who trailed behind talking of childhood memories, smile. When they got to the river there were even more adventures than before: there were periwinkles to be found (tiny bugs) and tiny fish jumping. The girls waded into the river, letting the biting cold water wash over their hot feet, marveling at the efficiency of entropy. (See fallen tree trunk, below.) Turns out they didn't need the coats - the temperature was perfect.

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As the stars started to come out and the moon rose, the girls turned for the road, herded by the park ranger. They were done frolicking - now they walked sedately. No trip-trapping over the bridge...it was more like trailing as they ran out of steam. (Well, only one ran out of steam...no prizes if you guess who.)

Then they went back to Grandmother's House, where they were fed and watered, and quite happily stayed to talk about China and Chairman Mao, adopted babies, and family news.

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Retracing the curves they had previously traversed, they were full of quiet content. One of them even fell asleep in the backseat, just as she would have when she was a little girl. It was cute. And then the evening was over and the realities of life crept back in, just a little bit. But the Frolicking Foursome had made one darn good idyllic summertime memory in the process.

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Camptown Races

So...there was no camp, and no town. But there were some races. I was thinking more of the line, "Somebody bet on the bobtailed nag, somebody bet on the grey."

Here we are in front of the Emerald Downs sign. (JT, me, EC.) Yay! I wore a dress and a hat in honor of my first time at the races. They actually sold frou frou hats inside and I would have bought one but they all had sequins on them or feathers and I don't "do" sequins or feathers. Much. (As a side note, I suppose the best time TO "do" them would be with a hat, but alas, I did not capitalize on the "opportunity."



Top right: My open faced sandwich (interesting...it doesn't look much like a sandwich to me). The lady "did me a solid" and gave me a side of pickles.

1 (a)The trainers and jockeys get the horses ready. (See left.)
1 (b) Concurrently, the track managers do dust control with water trucks (right). It's kind of needed.

There are only about 20 minutes between races for everything that follows to happen, so they have to be kinda quick. (PS, I chose the grey to win. I'm a sucker for greys...but they never win.)

2 (a) The horses parade by, left. Look closely. (Past me.) Listen to the announcer in his half-British, half-New York twang. Choose which one you think is going to win. (I picked two winners, in a row, by the way. Tribaltikque and Quinette, icywi.)  I'm standing in the grandstands...I thought they'd would be less bleachers and more seats, but maybe I've watched too many horse-y movies where the stakes were high to be in horse race reality.

3. The first race we saw was 1 mile. A mile is eight furlongs, in case you were interested. The reason why this is important is because the different race lengths mean they have to move the gate. To do so, they get the huge truck (see?!?) and attach the gate to it. Then they move the gate with said big truck and then they do this awesome backing up thing. (Look at the perpendicular status. Those are some trailer-backing skillz.)

4. Then they get on their trusty John Deere tractors to remedy the damage done by said monster truck wheels. They play funky music and have a real life bugle/trumpeter thing that is the perfect size for the BFG. PS, when they played songs I knew before the race, I picked winners. Maybe there's a corollary there.)

5. Then they somehow convince the horses to get boxed in.

6. Then they're off!

The whole thing took less than 1:38 for a full mile, and less than 1:10 for the six and a half furlongs. Unless you were the grey. Then it took more like 1:11.

Here they are at the finish.

Here's the winner!

Wardrobe Wrules

When Shopping:

1. Never buy clothes you have to fight with to keep them in the proper place.
2. If it looks bad on the model, don't even bother trying it on/ordering it.
3. Always check to see if it needs to be dry cleaned BEFORE taking it to the register.
4. If you don't approve with at least 98.5% of your heart and your mind, put it down, unless you are in a dire situation like your pants ripped and you are out so you must get new ones immediately.
5. Don't be ruled by the price tag. What I mean is, if it's $9.89, don't tell yourself, "It's only ten dollars!" Why pay ten dollars for something that doesn't make you look  smartly sassy or stylish?

General Tips:
1. Shopping with new people is a must. You get new ideas that way.
2. Never buy itchy, scratchy, or hive-inducing clothes. (This one shouldn't even have to be on the list but I included it just to be on the safe side.)
3. If you order clothes online, when you get them, try them on, make the decision whether to keep or return immediately, pack it up, and ship it back on the afternoon train.

New York, New York, Part II

Going back to the NY trip I started writing about, finishing the travelblog.

Here's St. Patrick's Cathedral on the left. It just looked so old it was awesome. I don't know why I think old things (clarification: old buildings and paintings) are so cool, but I do.

Thinking about the TMBG song, I decided to go to Rockefeller Center (right). It was a beautiful morning. I decided not to go to Top of the Rock because the wait was so long and I was feeling keenly the "alone-ness" of traveling alone that day. Let's just say I didn't plan as well as I should have...there's so much I would have done differently if I'd known, but I'm still glad I had such a good time. :)

Then I went to the Library. It's on 42nd Street. Look at those columns! There are large lions guarding the library too, but it just wouldn't be fair to put a picture of one up without me sitting on his paws, and I didn't have a person there to take a photo, so...

And here is Atlas Shrugged, because I'd just finished reading the book, and was full of ideas about it. I'll not write about those ideas in this blog post. 

I got a little flustered, the city was a bit overwhelming. I just walked and walked and walked, it was like I was thinking if I stopped to actually "do" something that I would miss everything. Instead I did nothing and it feels like I missed everything, even though that is of course not at all the case. I did do a couple things, not properly...I took a pit stop in Union Station, which is too huge and confusing by half. There, I checked out the train schedules and admired the tiny windowpanes before I caught the subway to the Staten Island Ferry to see the statue of liberty, but didn't climb up or anything. (The line was hours long.)  Below is the view of a few buildings in the city from the ferry.




And here she is, Lady Liberty herself, as seen from the boat on a picture-perfect day.

 And here's a view of some buildings from the ferry (you go all the way to the southern tip of the famous Isle of Manhattan and then go southwest to get to Staten Island, which, by the way, is awfully close to New Jersey.

And another view of a lot more buildings from the ferry.

Here's St. Bartholomew's. Doesn't it look like it belongs in a French history textbook? (well, except for the American flag flying.) I love old buildings! 

Then I did all sorts of other cool (walking) things, and saw more awesome things, and felt like the Primary song, "Pioneer children sang as they walked and walked and walked and walked..." and I felt like adding, "and walked, and walked, and walked, and walked and....waaalllkkkkeed." (that last one is like the battery-powered toy winding down, sputtering.) 

Some of them are: walking on Broadway, where I saw a sign advertising a show with one of my sister's favorite actors in it (Robert Sean Leonard) and she actually went to see it about a month later...kind of funny. And here is Ripley's, and next to it (with the big metal hand) Madame Tussaud's wax museum. And I went to Times Square...and saw all the lights, so distracting. (I wrote about them earlier.) And then for some reason I felt compelled to go to the M&M factory, where I was overwhelmed by pastellation of cocoa, an army (literally) of plush stuffed toys with M's on them, and kids who had been playing tourist for way too long and wanted to go home. (Kind of like how I felt. So I did go home. But  I stopped along the way...)

I stopped, at the recommendation of a friend, at Carnegie Deli, right by Carnegie Hall, where I bought a twenty-five dollar sandwich. Yep. $25. For a Reuben. It was massive. I thought it weighed at least five pounds. (Maybe it actually weighed in at closer to two...but who cares, this thing was ginormous.) Yes, that is a sandwich. Not a misshapen pizza or anything else...it was yummy, too...though I'm not sure it was $25 worth of yum.

And then it was really early but I didn't care...I took probably one of the loveliest showers I've ever taken in my life and went to bed, because I knew that on the next day, I was going to see lovely things, and I wanted to be ready. But I'm not ready to go into what I saw in detail just now so I'll post this and let you get ready...for more New York!