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, October 24, 2010

punkin huntin

The day was lowering - fit for rain. the clouds hung black-bellied low. But it was punkin-huntin time again, and we were bound to go.

We donned our gumboots and our hats, and set out on the drive. I brought a thermos full of tea, to keep us both alive.

But lo -- out in the distance there, the clouds begin to break. A bit of sunshine lances down. The chance is ours to take!

the pumpkin farm is going strong. The lot is halfway filled. The very kiss of wind is warm. I think we won't be chilled!

Oh, bring your granny, bring the kids. Come join the merry throng.

There's lots of fun for one and all. Come, bring the dogs along.

The golden orbs are great and small, and scattered all around.

A plethora of pumkins wait, all lying on the ground.

The photo opportunities are many vast and varied.

And wheelbarrows are at hand, for gourds too big to carry.

The sun broke through, and shone upon the fine atumnal glory.

And here's our haul, but that's not all. There's much more to our story.

But I'm done with this ding-dong rhyming. DH, being the boy that he is, took the scenic route home and we wound up cruising alongside the Columbia River.

Here is one of the newer bridges across the river. You see only half the bridge. The other half continues on the far side of the island. It's a noble span.
As you can see, about the time we left the pumpkin patch, the weather started closing in again.

While on our last trip, we met some people who were astounded at the notion of houseboat communities, so I thought I'd get a picture of this one. You own your house (It floats on pontoons) and you rent moorage space, including sewer, water, and power hookups. Some houseboats are multi-million dollar affairs, three stories high and taking up two dock spaces. With perhaps a boathouse in a third space. This is a much more humble neighborhood. The utilities are attached to the walkways that float between the boats. The whole set-up rises and falls with the tide via rings riding up and down the tall poles so obvious in the photo. During floods, though there have been instances of the water getting so deep that the whole shooting match rises over the tops of the poles and is swept away. Tugboats chase everything down when the flood abates, and haul the salvagable bits back to the owner's marina of choice. (Usually one with taller poles) and life goes on.
When we got back to the house, DH installed the CatGenie - the self-flushing and sanitizing litterbox. We shall see how this turns out. Photos tomorrow.


  • At 9:23 AM , Anonymous Lisa Nowak said...

    Oh, how I love your poetry!

    The whole houseboat thing is interesting. Having grown up in Oregon, I always took them for granted, but I suppose other people would find them unusual. One has to wonder how they came about, who said, "gee, I think I'll build a house and float it on the river where it's vulnerable to flooding and difficult to get my groceries from the car to the kitchen." I could understand it in an area where water was abundant and land was scarce, but obviously houseboats were being used in this area long before real estate hit a premium. Maybe the trend was started by retired sailors who couldn't stand to leave the water, and other people just copied them.

  • At 6:17 AM , Blogger Amy Lane said...

    Wow-- I LOVED the pumpkin-huntin' doggerel-- it was too much fun! And the houseboat communities are fascinating! Cool!

  • At 11:39 AM , Blogger Saren Johnson said...

    Lots of pumpkins. What a fun trip. Glad you brought me along.


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