Sanna's Bag

“I never seem to have what I need when I need it. I’m going to make a belt-bag that’s bigger on the inside than on the outside, and just carry everything with me.”

Sunday, August 20, 2017

'clips day 3 report

Due to the influx of thousands of people, the internet connection has gotten s-l-o-w.  If I don't get my stuff posted by 7 am, I may as well forget it.  So here goes!
 Yesterday, Miz E and I rinsed and dried our dye experiments.  Our long-tailed unicorn is now pink!
 Random sprinkles of powdered dye on wet fabric, wrapped in plastic, and left to percolate in the sunshine.  Surprisingly satisfying results.





   The last one was the most labor intensive, requiring two people to spend almost fifteen minutes placing rubber bands.  I like it so much that I might just leave it intact and  create a pieced border around it.





In other news, the sky-divers continue to leap six and seven times a day.  The "Solar Fest" location across the highway is filling rapidly.  You may even see some of the aerial shots of it - a veritable city laid out in the sun and dust.  Folks who live in Madras are saying that the traffic is insane.  My niece who lives in Seattle says, "Traffic?"  It's all a matter of perspective.  I remember when the Redmond city council decided the city needed a traffic light when a herd of sheep knocked over the local wino on his bicycle.  It's all a matter of perspective.  I think of that traffic light, patiently going from green to yellow to red, all alone, for hours on a Sunday afternoon. And a Tuesday mid-day.  And a Wednesday . . .  Traffic problems could, to an extent, be a matter of perception.

Yesterday was Kyle's turn to cook.  NOM!  Toaster waffles with strawberries and whipped cream for breakfast.  Whipped cream in a can can be lots of fun to play with, and the dogs are always happy to help clean up sticky hands and faces.  Lunch was sandwiches and, for four of us, grilled beef bones.  My inner savage relishes a grilled bone, and I wound up greasy from ear to ear.  Then Miz L started sharing her bone with the dogs.  If sitting at her feet and begging was what it took to get more grilled beef,  I have no pride and I outweigh both dogs.



Dinner was roast beef.  I went to bed in something of a meat coma.  Life is GOOD!

Saturday, August 19, 2017

'clips, day 2 report

Tom is a ditch-rider. Which means, he is one of a squad of people who monitor the irrigation canals, so vital to the farming community. In the early days, the gentlemen did their job on horseback, making sure that no one was sneaking more than his share of the water, and making sure that the ditch was in good repair. They were hired by the federal government and were provided with housing in one central location. Many ditch riders now have homes of their own and drive their trucks in to work. Tom and Cheryl still live on the original property. There is a rosebush that was planted sometime around the 20s. It is now about 10 feet high and about 14 feet in diameter. And within its brambly interior lives a thriving family of quail. And several bunnies. I am sharing my sunrise with them. Life is good.

Yesterday, Miz E and I did some dying. We used the laziest method possible. Sprinkle the powdered dye directly onto the wet fabric, wrap it in plastic, and leave it to simmer in the sun. Today we will rinse it out and spread it in the shade to dry. For the quilting, I often get second-hand sheets at garage sales for mere pennies, then dye them to suit my needs. Random tie-dye effects are great.

We are a quarter mile from the airport. Yesterday, skydivers were making use of the light breezes and cleared fields. Their were at least 8 jumps with up to fourteen chutists in each. I lay in the lawn chair in the shade with my knitting and enjoyed the show. Gosh I'm good at this retirement stuff!

Friday, August 18, 2017

'clips day 1 report

It's 6:10 and the sun is just gilding the mountains. We are in Madras to watch the eclipse which will happen on Monday. Tom and Cheryl are the best! They have around 20 people camped out here, with meals organized, and protective glasses for all. 

Kyle and I are in the RV. I am watching the sunrise. Young jackrabbits are scampering across the lawn. A covey of quail scurried by a minute ago. Doves are calling. The traffic is a steady drone from the highway already. 


  Yesterday, Miz L and Mia E were helping me prepare some fabric for dying. I was using a variety of techniques, including tearing a stained white sheet into strips and braiding three of the strips together. Mix E decided that it would make and excellent tail. Then we took another strip and some rubber bands and made a unicorn headdress. I am so glad I brought the bellydance scarves to play with. This is going to be a highly entertaining visit.
Things are just tinder dry in Central Oregon right now.  There's a big fire west of Sisters which has closed  great tracts of forest and campgrounds to would-be eclipse-watchers.  Another fire started north of Madras up on the Warmsprings Indian Reservation.  The smoke was blowing our direction, but I think they got it under control, because the air is clear this morning.
The campers are slowly arriving.  Some folks have the big, comfy trailers and RVs.  Some folks have brought their little pop-up tents and rented a space in some farmer's hayfield, flat on the dirt in the baking sun with no shade or comforts, and a quarter mile walk to the port-a-potty.  Some folks have set up tent villages on their property.  Many folks are renting out their homes or apartments for the week and crashing with nearby family.   I heard of one young lady who is renting her 2 bedroom apartment to a Danish news crew for four nights, a thousand dollars a night, and sleeping on her mom's couch for the duration.

The local gas station ran out of gas two days ago, refilled overnight, and just about ran out again yesterday.  The eclipse is Monday at 10AM  I'm thinking that by then, the tanks will be dry, the shelves will be empty, and the black market will be charging $15 for a roll of toilet paper.  Then, by noon, the roads will groan with the weight of departing tourists.  This will be an interesting few days.

Sunday, August 13, 2017

Walkies

Kyle and I did the Providence Bridge walk today.  7.5 miles.  After days of temps in the mid 90s, today dawned cool and misty.  It was glorious.  We manage 3 miles an hour and I'm very please with that!  I know, some people run 25 miles before breakfast every day.  They are freaking awesome and good for them!  I managed to drag my rosy rump over almost 8 miles of streets, climbing  the equivalent of 40 flights of stairs and thoroughly sweating through every garment I was wearing.  That pink shirt tied around my waist?  I could wring it out when we finished.  I'm not in shape for this.  Five miles, maybe.  7.5 - - - ow. The best part about these walks is going on foot across the top decks of the two freeway bridges.  Such magnificent views, and time to pause and appreciate them.

The Marquam bridge had a marimba and steel drum band on top.  It really put the lift in your step.  The Fremont Bridge had taiko drummers, and they just SLAMMED energy into you.  Of course, after climbing to the top of the Fremont Bridge, everyone NEEDED the energy.

Taiko drumming must be awesome exercise.  All the performers had splendid upper-body definition in every muscle group! Males and females, you could break an egg on their guns.

As soon as I got home, I crawled into a hot bath.  Then I took a brief nap.  Now I am trying to remember to stand up and walk around the house for five minutes out of every hour.  Getting so        s-t-i-f-f.

Saturday, August 12, 2017

Second Saturday Tea party

I got out my sarongs for decoration for today's party.  They're souvenirs of trips to tropical climes. From Australia to Aruba, Mexico to New Caledonia, Hawaii to Jamaica, Fiji, Samoa and one chunk of polyester scavenged  from a discard bin when I worked for Pendleton.  They make it look so festive.  I love my sarongs.
I've been watching the Great British Baking Show and have been inspired.  We had fruit tarts (cherry and strawberry)with frangipani filling. Also hazelnut tea cakes, sunny orange cookies (some with chocolate eclipses) fruit salad, and crackers with a slice of cucumber and some salmon.  And tea, coffee, cucumber water, lemonade, iced tea and ice water.  It was much cooler than I had expected, so the tea and coffee went over well.  The ice water - not so much.
Pat, Jackie and Moma. We sang happy birthday to Pat in harmony!










Pat got a tattoo for her 60th birthday.  Her daughter has the other half of the quote. 
Merilee, Diane, Jenny and Maggie, knitting and
laughing.

Friday, August 04, 2017

I haven't seen everything yet

In line at the grocery store yesterday. The gal behind me had a tiny bottle and a box of kitten supplement formula. The clerk said, "You must have new kitties?" The gal behind me smiled and said, "Bunnies." then she pulled down the neck of her t-shirt revealing quite a lot of creamy cleavage, stuffed with three tiny baby bunnies each about 3 inches long. "It's like an incubator for them. The mother tried to kill them, so I have to keep them warm." I never expected to see a bosom full of baby bunnies in the check-out line. I'm
67 years old, and there are still new things to see!


Things I should have expected to see.  Getting out my knitting to send to the state fair.  Put it down on the table and turned around to get a box.  Just that fast, it has been claimed.

Sunday, July 30, 2017

Figs are the most sensual fruit I know.  Plucking a sun-warmed, perfectly ripe fig, so tender, pliant, and swollen with sweetness, and devouring it on the spot is a taste of heaven for me.  I love the flavor, the textures, the colors, . . .

Our fig tree has produced abundantly this year.  when the figs first started to ripen, I was eating one or two of the ripest each day.  Then I was eating ALL the ripe figs.  Then there were more ripe figs than I could eat while standing out in the yard, with my hands and mouth smeared with sugary syrup.  I will not abandon my lovely figs to the birds of the air and the squirrels of the street, so as fruit ripens, I pick them, eat them, and bring in the surplus to eat later.

There are consequences to gorging on ripe figs.  I am now prepared to share my excess figs.  Unless someone knows of a good way to preserve them?  I should look up fig jam. Maybe I can make my own fig Newtons.

May your Sunday be as supple, sensual and sweet as ripe figs.  With no consequences.