The Little House By The Sea

Cha-cha-changes!

2009-12-18T09:12:00.000-08:00

One of the questions I got asked when I posted the giveaway (Which by the way winners, packages will finally arrive for New Years, I hope. Thrifting can be a little challenging out here in the boonies...) was about the two separate blogs I have.

Originally I kept my other blog for personal observations on, for the lack of a better word, popular culture; that is music, literature and cinema, among other things. When I moved to the United States 11 months ago, I decided to keep this little log on my new life here.

Unfortunately, my new life being considerably busier than my old one, this has led me to neglect both blogs. I've felt that I can't post on one without posting on the other and so have often opted to not post at all. Lately I've also felt strongly that I'd like to post a blog in my native Finnish, which would make three blogs in total. Needless to say no good can come of this...

So-o here's what I decided to do. I'm going to move the content of this blog into the my other blog. This will be fun because I've often run parallel posts in the two anyway. I'll also start

posting a separate blog in Finnish for my friends back home, mostly about the more life-style-y content of this blog.

How's about it?

Also I had my hair temporarily straightened. Speaking of changes.

I hope you dance.

2009-12-11T11:40:00.000-08:00

I haven't, but have been skating on ponds under the stars, finishing my yellow cowl, making packages, embroidering, taking saunas.

Walking in forgotten places.

And drinking copious amounts of hot chocolate with copious amounts of whip cream on top.

Mushrooms, Light Houses and Free Museums!

2009-12-01T20:21:00.000-08:00

My husband, as previously noted, is quite the amateur mycologist. If you see pictures from our trips that feature people (other than us two, obviously), buildings, curiosities in larger scale, they are often taken by yours truly. Beautiful, detailed shots of tree skins, lichens and mushrooms (and yours truly obviously ;) are mostly his handiwork.

So when we got to Cape Disappointment and it turned out to be quite an mushroom-extravaganza he couldn't have been happier. Though picking was forbidden (there must be some magic ones out there, because mushroom is just the fruit of an underground organism, and picking those doesn't hurt it much), he got many a lovely shot.

Including these spooky-scary alien ones.

For me Cape Disappointment turned out to be worthy of its name, in spite hot showers and the half-white deer we saw, because the trail to the light house was closed half-way. This makes it two times we haven't been able to see the damn table lamp. At least C. is pushing for another vacation there, because of all the shroominess.

Luckily there are two towns near by: Il Waco, which proudly calls itself The Best Little Town In Washington, and where C.'s grandma grew up, and Long Beach, home to, well, a really long beach and, more importantly Marsh's Free Museum!

Part nick-nack store (one and perhaps the original of many many in this little tourist town), part curiosity show, complete with hundred dollar sea shells, stuffed wildebeasts, mechanical canaries and of course Jake the Alligator-Man, Marsh's Free Museum is well-worth spending some time, as well as nickels and dimes in olden-time-y peep machines.

Generally I'm not a huge fan of dead animals, but will make exception for things older than my great grandma.

Politically incorrect music boxes.

Imported french canaries.

The sultan's harem and naughty secretary.

And the Ruler of the Animal Kingdom. Long before there was genetic manipulation, there was:

THE JACKARAVENLOPE!

Next we head to Astoria: the home of the Finnish Americans, many labor unions and the Goonies.

Road Trip!

2009-11-30T19:49:00.000-08:00

Traditionally C.'s family spends Thanksgiving on his aunt's farm in the foothills of Northern Oregon. Since driving is such a bug-bear anyway, we decided to have a little extended holiday on the way down there. On Sunday we headed to one of our favorite places: the rainy coastline and lush forests that are the Olympic Peninsula.

Our first stop was the town of Forks, WA, the setting for a certain book and film franchise about vampires, and in very obvious subtext, chastity. While the most of the rainiest town in the Union is (understandably so) cashing in on the phenomenon, one motel voiced its dissent. We felt the need to support them in their solitary quest to save their town from teenage vampires. (C. tries to summon sullen vampire look. Fails.)

In Forks we also made our biggest purchase and splurge, which is in fact, an advance Christmas present: A pair of xtratuf wellingtons for me. Hands down one of the best, most useful presents ever! They certainly came in handy (footy?) on this trip.

For the first two nights we camped in Kalaloch, a little ways past the magnificent Hoh rain forest. The first night the weather was uncannily dry, even warm. The moon was out in half and we took a stroll in the low tide, carrying out red storm lantern and looking for little washed out treasures. It was pretty darn romantic.

After that it rained for two days straight though, and everything we owned got thoroughly soggy, not that it mattered. On our way down the coast we stopped in Quinolt, where I swear I kept looking at "land for sale signs". In the middle of nowhere on the foothills of the most beautiful mountains where it rains enough to keep away Californian retirees, and Seattle yuppees, might just be a perfect place for a little hippie compound. (Not really. I love my Island too much.)

They also have 6 of the world's tallest trees of their particular kind within like a 5 mile radius. This one's a spruce.

Winter is an awesome time to visit the Peninsula, because there are no other people around. The crowds come in the summer, hoping for less rain, even though rain is what makes this place so magical. It was lucky for us however, that the previous weeks windstorms had subsided. On our hike in Quinoult we saw a trail crew cutting trough huge fallen trees that had fallen onto the path.

We're going back in January. But wait, there's more...

The Light Brigade

2009-11-26T09:04:00.000-08:00

This Friday some of our friends are going to have "a firelight parade" where they walk in white clothes, carrying lanterns around the village. This reminds me of the Lucia Day-tradition back home, when in each school, town and church crowns one girl with candles and wreaths in honor of St. Lucia, the bringer of light into this darkest time of the year.

Taking place on December 13th, this Christian holiday is obviously a remnant of and earlier pagan tradition. I was thinking of dressing up as St. Lucia for Halloween, but perhaps Winter Solstice would suffice since I wont be here for the parade. I'm sure it will be wonderful.

What have you been doing?

2009-11-21T23:06:00.000-08:00

Well, personally, I've been busier than it would appear from this here picture.

I did Dump-find me some new Justins, but mostly I've been:

Hanging out in tattoo parlors.

Identifying mystery shrooms.

(fluted elfin saddle)

Going to the Cat's wake.

Helping out with invisibility cloaks, goblins, courtiers and goddesses at our local Shakespeare performance.

Enjoying fall bounty.

Taking pictures of horses again.

And decorating.

(Thanks Jen!)

Wedding!

2009-11-05T21:36:00.000-08:00

It's about time I share our wedding celebrations with you guys. A little over a month ago C. and I renewed our wows here on our "home" beach at the park, with his family, my adopted American family, and the more or less the whole Island . The weather was perfect, the people were merry, and wonderful decorations, food, flowers, bridal bouquet, flower headdress, venison, salmon, champagne and even a wedding cake appeared, as though by magic, without us even daring to wish for them. It was the perfect celebration to end the summer, and a perfect wedding day, not because weddings should be perfect, but because it all came together in such a natural, organic way. We felt very loved by our community.

The ceremony was performed by the Honorable Callie Blue of the Universal Church of Life.

In her hands she held a copy of Time Magazine's Love Issue.

"The Priest Wore A Sailor Uniform"

We were walked down "the isle" by Charlie's mom and AnnMarie, who's my dear friend here. Also a random dog walked along.

My bride's maids are the coolest and cutest.

Circle up!

Part of the ceremony was everybody writing these prayer flags for us and then we all strung them together.

Talu and Madrona made us this ah-mazing wedding cake.

My dear friend and mentor Russ salutes us all.

Could you tell I changed right after the ceremony? I just wanted to be comfy and hang out on the beach. Woolen heirloom dresses are no good for dancing around the bonfire. And dance around the bonfire we did. All night.

Wish you could have been there.

(all photos by Gregg Blomberg and Richard Ward)

And the winner is...

2009-11-01T10:32:00.000-08:00

Are! Psyche! I pulled out three winners instead of one. Congrats to Andrea, Caroline, the otherAndrea!

Costume?

2009-10-31T08:50:00.000-07:00

It was a two-day Halloween here in my neck of the woods. There was a benefit concert with costumes yesterday, and tonight we are celebrating a birthday party, having a barn dance, and, of course the traditional costumed boogie night at our local.

I was going to go as Frida Kahlo, but then discovered that my friend had the same costume in mind, so C. and I wore rather dashing matching costumes. I was a flapper and he a slightly older-timey gentleman. On actual Halloween I have to go to work, and decided to wear a costume for that too, especially since we were going to get trick-or-treaters.

Or is it a costume, if you're ostensibly going as what you are? Here's my inspiration.

Here before

2009-10-27T21:22:00.000-07:00

This is post one of my trip to Vancouver to visit Mali. Her friend Claire did a photo shoot starring her and her roommate Sydney as ghosts on this lovely field a little outside the city.

I'm going to Vancouver...

2009-10-22T18:22:00.000-07:00

...to hang out with my best girl. And together we'll go see these girls.

Faire Maiden

2009-10-17T09:12:00.000-07:00

C. and I spent the last weekend at the Okanagan Family Faire, near Tonasket, WA. Barter Faire, as it's commonly known, has been going on for over 35 years, since 1973 (Irene, one of our Island friends has been going for 28 years consecutively!).

While bartering was at times scarce (all too many people seemed to prefer cash), it was definitely an extravaganza of cheap clothes, yummy local organic foods, crazy fire dancing, and for me personally, deliriousness from a head cold that set in just as we got there.

To get to Tonasket we passed trough one of our favorite places to visit, the North Cascades. We stopped within view of a spot very special to us, on Diablo Lake at the foot of Sourdough mountain, where the poet Gary Snyder famously watched for fires in the 50s.

Once we got to the fair there was barely enough time to set up our tent, before the wild rumpus began.

Thankfully the Island crew was well organized and had a huge fire, because the temperatures were record low at night. Twelve degrees, that is.

During the day us girls looked after our little stall and walked around to see what was on offer. Even sitting down in our stand was great because the people watching was so good. The stall across the street was occupied by some lovely Other Island people and we traded a lot back and worth with its lovely proprietess.

Walking around with C. or the gals was the most fun though. The stalls were treasure troves of things you didn't so much want, as want to admire. The vendors were interesting, wonderful people, many of them sporting great, individual styles to delight the eye. It was definitely a delight to chat with all these amazing characters.

The fair takes place in arid, high desert, in a sort of valley on a hillside, and of course we had to, in spite the cold, hike up the see the tent village from above.

(Notice how C. and I are Twins again.)

Tents as far as the eye could see, happy people, peace on earth and love in the air. What more could you ask for an adventure? (Well, maybe lack of head cold...minor details.)

Only love is all maroon

2009-10-14T18:15:00.000-07:00

Thank you for your condolences on the untimely (?) passing of Chacha-kin. Now I had a whole other happier post planned for yesterday, and reading your comments, I was delighted to have thought of it.

Especially, when Andrea asked me if chickens themselves are sentimental about their dead friend. I hardly ever reply to comments, mainly because I have limited internets time, and also because I myself never check back to comments I've left on other people's blogs. I do however enjoy reading them, and appreciate my readers.

So, to answer your question Andrea, the black chicken, Harriet Tubman has been looking for Chacha a lot today, coming onto the porch, making the sound they make when talking to each other. I don't think she's necessarily sad, but I think she knows that they were once three and now are two.

As for that other post topic? Well, I am now declaring a giveaway for my beloved readers of both blogs. A package, thrifted by yours truly, can be yours if you give me suggestions, questions, comments, in this post.

You can enter twice by doing the same on my other blog, once I have the time to do a giveaway post there. The winner will be announced on All-Hallows-Eve, and entry closes by midnight the night before (October 30th).

(I have mundo packaging to do so might as well make a day of it. I owe swaps to at least four people. You know who you are. And Christmas comes early when you live faraway.)

Now for Halloween costume planning.

The good evil chicken

2009-10-13T14:10:00.000-07:00

I never liked Chacha much. Out of our three chickens she was the one that exhibited least character in the beginning, to the point where she was named months after the others, and before then referred to as "the-generic-white-american-chicken". Chacha was often greedy for food, pushy and prone to giving the hand that feeds the odd peck, if she got the chance.

When she started exhibiting character beyond the need for food, she was very curious, especially about the house and the untold lands beyond the front yard fence. In pursuit of these she was fearless, hopping back onto the porch to peer in trough the windows, even after being chased off with spray from the garden hose. She was the first and best egg-layer, and a leader of expeditions into the garden, the mailbox and the afore mentioned porch. Her favorite foods were termites and rose hips.

Chacha died early this morning in comfy box in our kitchen from what we think now as having been egg-bound for about a week. Had we not been gone for the last four days we might been able to do something for her. I feel sad that her life lasted only one brief summer, though it was a good chicken life. I also wish I had liked her better when she was alive, and that I had been able to help her more in her final days.

I understand that this is a sentimental view of an animal's perhaps inevitable passing, but I'm not a farmer and therefor feel as deeply for our little farm animals as other people do for their pets.

I hope you had a nice summer Chachakin, a nice life, and many delicious termites.

To be fair

2009-10-07T08:52:00.000-07:00

I'm still preparing for the fair. I made these hairpins from vintage leather leaves. How much would you pay for one? (I'm hoping to barter obviously, but just to get an idea.)

Happy braid Wednesday! See you next week.

If you are waiting for wedding pics...

2009-10-04T17:00:00.000-07:00

You'll have to wait a little longer. It was an amazing party as quotes from wedding guests show:

"Best Wedding party ever!" "An old time Island party!" "Just like Island parties used to be!" "You need to get married every year!" "One of the best parties I've ever been to!"

Thanks for all your well-wishes, I feel like they contributed to the awesomeness of the event. All the love makes the weather behave and people dance, methinks.

Unfortunately what with work, canning and planning for Barter Fair (I'm making clothes, jewellery, and cleaning out some vintage finds to barter), I'm swamped with stuff to do, so bear with me now and look at a this picture of peaceful horsies instead.

Wedding Jitters

2009-09-25T13:19:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow C. and I are getting married again. This is our wedding invite.

I'm a wee bit nervous. Even though it's our second time in two years.

A visit, A Visit (2. Instalment)

2009-09-25T11:02:00.000-07:00

More pictures from Missa, Clover and Lucas' visit. Here's us hanging out at the Park. The trailer they borrowed from Lucas' sister was awesome.

There isn't much to do on the Island so mostly we ate, hung out and drunk at scenic places and went shopping at the Dump.

We also took them to the farm I used to live at, where Clover saw goats and I coerced the whole family to pose infront of the farmhouse.

They're totally awesome. It was such a pleasure to meet the lovely and amazing Missa for real, and her family are just sweet and funny. Thanks guys for making the trip all the way up here.

Check Missa's blog for more of their adventures. More photos in my flickr

A Visit, A Visit (1. Instalment)

2009-09-20T20:59:00.000-07:00

So you must have wondered whatever did C. and I show, and how did we entertain, our visitors from the distant land of Californ-i-a. We did what all could Island folk would, obviously: took 'em to the beach. Our favorite one, with a view of Mt. Baker, as well as our very own teeny mountain.

Here the grown-ups sipped beer, watched the mountain, and were entertained by Clover, who in turn, was thoroughly entertained by pebbles being tossed into the ocean.

And what do you think happened then? More photos tomorrow.

A Visit, A Visit!

2009-09-12T10:19:00.000-07:00

Somebodies special are coming today, and since my house isn't really quite so dreamy as it might seem, I am cleaning.

For these guys! (And the elusive Lucas, whom I can't wait to meet.)

It's gonna be such a fun weekend methinks.

Self-portrait With Dill

2009-09-04T10:11:00.002-07:00

...or A Portrait of The Artist As a Young Pickler.

Lately I've been taking The Worst outfit photos. I think I either need to find a new photo spot, or some new clothes. Hopefully the former. Maybe today.

I did take these fanciful portraits with a bouquet of dill that Alma gave me.

In perfect synergy, C. got some pickling cucumbers from another friend.

Garlic Dill Pickles

Makes approximately 8 pints (total yield varies depending on size of cucumbers)

2 overflowing quarts of pickling cucumbers, sliced into fat coins*
4 cups apple cider vinegar
4 cups water
6 tablespoons pickling salt
16 garlic cloves, peeled (2 per jar)**
¼ teaspoon crushed red pepper per jar (2 teaspoons total)
1 teaspoon dill seed per jar (8 teaspoons total)
½ teaspoon black peppercorns per jar (4 teaspoons total)

Wash and slice the cucumbers.

In a large saucepot, combine vinegar, water and salt. Bring to a simmer.

Arrange jars on counter and dole out the spices to each. Pack the cucumber slices firmly into the jars. You don’t want to damage the cukes, but you do want them packed tight.

Pour the brine into the jar, leaving ½ inch headspace.

Wipe rims, apply lids and rings and process in a boiling water bath for 10 minutes.

When 10 minutes are up, promptly remove the jars from the pot and allow them to cool on the countertop. When the jars are cool, check the seals (by pushing/tapping on the lid).

Pickles can be stored in a cool, dry place for up to a year.

Recipe from here. I'm trying it out.

Dressing for the center of the universe

2009-08-31T16:25:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday, my friend Tallula and I went to Seattle, to drop her boyfriend off at the airport, do some much needed Goodwill-shopping. Going off-Island can be really fun, because out here you learn to appreciate such mundane things like going to the movies, getting Thai-food, and buying underwear.

Our movie of choice was Taking Woodstock, which provided a bunch awesome hippie inspiration, but also got me thinking about what the 60s and the 70s really mean in terms of ideology, lifestyle choices, and dare I say it, style.

Earlier in the day, at a random Value Village, browsing trough the isles for some thrift goods, Tallula's boyfriend Nick, overheard a little girl discussing her plans for Halloween with her mother (why VV is stocking a full assortment of cheap-ass Made in China Halloween costumes in August, beats the heck out of me). "Look they have hippie costume! I want to be a hippie mom? Can I? Can I?" was the gist of the conversation apparently. Sure enough, there on the shelf were individual package containing a long wig with middle parting, tie-dye shirt, shiny plastic peace pendant and some flares. (And don't get me wrong, I have plenty of love for tie-dye!)

Now even if you set aside the ridiculousness of buying a hippie costume off the rack, especially in the one place where you could probably find the real pieces for the same price, the idea of a fancy-dress-hippie, seems only to imply that the culture said costume is trying to portray, is long dead and gone, fit for a posthumous caricature. As Nick pointed out a hippie-Halloween outfit would never fly on the Island, there's too many real live hippies around, and they just don't look that stereotypical.

The movie proved the same to be true, with re-produced late 60s looks, some of which re-produced many hippie cliches, but most of which simply embodied the ethos of hippie ideology, and therefore, dressing: the handmade, the thrifted, the ethnic, the devil-may-care.

I first discovered my own style in the great Hippie Revival of the 90s, when tie-dye, flares, and flowing florals came back into style, for the first time since the 70s. It wasn't just about those superficial things, but the other choices I was making, being involved in green groups, student council, youth for the Kioto Protocol, warehouse parties, and taking over empty buildings.

My style choices then, (and now!) reflected a lifestyle, undefined and forming as that lifestyle may have been. At thirteen, I wanted to work for Greenpeace, go to festivals, and paint banderolls. Today, I want to garden, learn to spin yarn, walk in the woods, and generally lead a life of voluntary simplicity.

While I love many a hippie-style cliche, from flowers in my hair, to float-y dresses, headbands, and the afore mentioned tie-dye, above all, I think my style as a form of self-expression, not an imitation of an era I never lived trough, something that could easily be bought off the rack.

Rant over. Peace and love.

Hippie Girls Make Braids

2009-08-26T21:03:00.000-07:00

...lots of small braids that is.

Where No Island Would Go

2009-08-25T23:37:00.000-07:00

A few days ago, Mali and I went to visit her friend Elizabeth on one of the other Islands.

She lives in a little, cozy cabin at the foot of a Mountain, with her boyfriend and chickens.

The first order of business, of course, was to climb the mountain. While its steep, it was not very tall, and we made it almost to the top in about twenty minutes. The view was well worth a little sweat too.

Elizabeth's place is just dreamy, with the little cabins, her chickens and garden, and the power line climbing up the mountain. They have a little boat dock as well, with sail boat to match too. I don't blame her for not wanting to leave it for college come fall...

We little a tiny bit of shopping too, taking advantage of the more-than-one-shop the village had to offer. Quite a novelty for me, these days. I got this lovely sparkly scarf, to replace all the others I had to leave behind in the big move.

Old is the new new

2009-08-20T21:33:00.001-07:00

A 70s etsy dress I bought and butchered. I chopped off the ankle-lenght hem, and am hoping to make the left-over piece into a skirt. A technique I heartily recommend for any items of awkward lenght. Talk about two for the price of one.

In bloom

2009-08-19T20:35:00.001-07:00

It's just another manic braid wednesday

The Ring Around The Moon

2009-07-26T19:13:00.000-07:00

On thursday C. and I went to see Elephant Revival, a new favorite band on one of the other Islands. Before the show we took a quick tour, went to see about a yellow VW bug, and had dinner at an outdoor cafe.

Though we were only gone for half a day, it felt like a mini-vacation. All the Islands, even the ones that the ferry reaches are very different from one and other, having their own geography, demographics, vibes and even climate.

The band, which hails from the exotic sounding Nederland, Colorado, plays a sweet, undefinable mix of blue-grass, traditionals and new folk, alternating melancholy ballads with rowdy dance numbers.

And not only do they play such varied instruments as stand-up base and washboard, but each band member seems to be a gifted multi-instrumentalist, making it possible for them to swap instruments on the go in a wonderful game of kind of musical chairs.

Our favorite was definitely Bonnie Paine who in addition to playing the said stand-up base, washboard, guitar and djembe, also sung and added the eerie sound of saw to a few of the songs.

Playing at an old hall decorated to look like the night-sky, they created a warm, cozy atmosphere, and made our mad dash for the ferry to get there and back all worthwhile.

Check out this awesome version of Sing to the Mountain (partly recorded in a bathroom!)

and the beautiful Ring Around The Moon (performed at the Mystic Hot Springs festival), but most importantly: check out Elephant Revival, should they drive their vegetable oil-powered bus to a town near you.

Braid Wednesday

2009-07-22T21:13:00.000-07:00

Awesome flickr group that makes my Wednesday.

Wood Work

2009-07-17T14:31:00.000-07:00

Look, the trees
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars

of light,
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
and fulfillment,

the long tapers
of cattails
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders

of the ponds,
and every pond,
no matter what its
name is, is

nameless now.
Every year
everything
I have ever learned

in my lifetime
leads back to this: the fires
and the black river of loss
whose other side

is salvation,
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world

you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it

against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.

-Mary Oliver-

White Lace

2009-07-06T18:41:00.001-07:00

After a long hot spell, it rained today. C is fixing our boat. I walked in the woods and wrote.

I'm mighty attached to my new lacy vest.

The Little Little House

2009-07-04T15:47:00.000-07:00

Happy 4th of July America. Now make love not war, please.

I might just stay in this Independence Day, and watch the zucchini grow in garden from the window of my new study/sewing room/ guest room in the Little Little House.

I'm stocking my pantry with rolls of lace and embroidery thread.

And decorating with Dead Relatives.

Won't you come visit? You'll get the room with the view.

New Arrivals

2009-06-06T12:03:00.000-07:00

Remember this Gunne Sax number from Violet Folklore? It's mine now!

Such pretty details and I love the color. Thank you ladies.

And as for the afore mentioned special guest appearance:

We have chickens! Three of them. The one on the right is Harriet (after Harriet Tubman), the rest remain unnamed as of yet. Any suggestions?

Garden Dreams

2009-06-02T08:07:00.000-07:00

Excuses for my month-long absence from the blogosphere, W_R, facepoke and internets galore here:

This is my garden. I'm growing lettuce, spinach, tomatoes, radish, beets, kale, chard, squashes and cucumber, and soon there'll be beans and peas too.

Lately it seems, to quote the old Chinese proverb, gardening and tending to the house and hearth, has been the only thing that matters, and on hot days like this, even that doesn't matter that much.

There is much to be said for the satisfaction of turning the earth, planting the seeds, and nurturing the little seedlings into strong vines, ripe with fruit.

Then there is the happiness of flowers, being surrounded by blooming beings swaying in the hot air. Columbines that attract the honey bees, buttercups, weed as they may be are just as sweet, and poppies are about to burst open. They will be red like oriental kites.

I was lucky enough to get the flowers as a gift from the gardens previous owner. As form myself I started out with some seeds, a gardener's diary and a Seed Saver's Exchange Catalogue.

Of course I had a little bit of help from The Homesteader's Handbook and Organic Gardening Magazine Book (Dump finds the both of them).

I also had these here Garden Goddesses to help me. Anonymous woman and a poster of Sophia Loren- a postcard from dear friends who recently visited Portugal.

I have a way of blending in with my flowers. When it gets too hot I run down to the beach for a swim, or go to the front yard to read in the hammock. Life is good and I hope to be sharing it with you on a more frequent schedule.

So prepare yourself in advance for tomorrow's Special Guest Appearance:

Adieu 'till then.

Happy Mayday!

2009-05-01T15:17:00.000-07:00

It's another Mayday come again,

goodbye to the rains of April,

another Mayday come again,

and we dance around the Maypole!

It's the holiday of pagans

and the holiday of labour

and we merry meet on the mountaintop

and praise the Creator!

So pass the jug of wine

and pass the honey mead!

Pass the pipe around again,

petals snow from the cherry tree...

(It goes on but gets a wee dirty)

Listening to: Mayday by Casey Neill

Gluttony and Other Paintings

2009-04-29T20:46:00.000-07:00

I received this amazing book (and bag!) from my friend Mali. Milk Teeth is a collection of drawings by Vancouver artist Julie Morstad.

This particular one is my favorite.

"Gluttony"

There's something very calming about these images, yet some of them are quite disturbing. Morstad often portrays young women and girls, sometimes beautiful, sometimes deformed, or hiding behind manes of rather Ring-esque hair. Still, even when they awake with hairy tentacles instead of arms, these girls seem oddly laissez-fair about their own strangeness.

Morsted's images are both richly layered and light. They contain fine detail, yet have a naivistic simplicity about them.

Personally, I found some of her paintings resonated with me deeply, particularly "Gluttony" (pictured above), as well as portraits of girls using their hair as scarves and having bees buzz in and out of their head. If you are into print art, or children's books, I recommend picking up this nuanced (and at $ 12.99 very affordable) artist.

Thanks Mali (a future artist and illustrator herself)!

Mali at the Art Store during our recent Seattle sojourn.

Think of your woman who has gone to the West...

2009-04-28T13:57:00.000-07:00

For the past few days, I've been busy in the garden, digging, planting and planning away. The furthest thing from my mind has been blogging, or even sitting down to check my email. On Friday C and I went to an amazing dance-benefit at the community center, and I wore my renaissance fair Gunne Sack. Though I sadly have no pictures of said outfit, it did get me thinking about those 70s Prairie Revival frocks, and how I feel they best embody my personal style. Especially now when I'm embracing a kind of 70s back-to-the-land-lifestyle.

Reading books about cheese making, bread baking, and embroidery.

Hunting and gathering, and planting, and sowing, and generally simplifying my daily life. (though sometimes simplifying seems to mean complicating...)

I rarely bust out this dress, bought on ebay, for my birthday two years ago, because it solicits stares and strange questions, but it occurred to me today, that I finally live in a place that is, if you will, hippy-dippy enough to make wearing this frock entirely comfortable.

And lo 'n behold: it has incurred nothing but compliments, and is delightfully warm on a chilly day. Perfect for collecting those last spring nettles in.

I was even inspired to write this post on my other blog, The Girl Who Married A Bear, about the beauty of Gunne Sax frocks.

Hat-ire!

2009-04-27T20:13:00.000-07:00

As Missa so cleverly pointed out, in response to my previous post, hat-ire could easily be something akin to road-rage. I like to think though, that rather than annoyance with hats, it might be more like hat-envy. Which is what you'll be experiencing when you see these images of our new off-Island hat acquisitions.

While many of the dear vintage fashion blogs I follow, are all a-twitter about the straw boater, I'm here to remind you that hat-ire comes in a variety of colors and shapes. Observe:

My favorite thrifting and hobo-ing partner Mali, in her new straw summer hat (made of 100% paper according to label)

Bowler-esque f21 super-clearance hat (at $ 2.99 it's the first thing I've bought in a store in 10 months).

A perfect hippie number from Value Village ($ 4.99 and worth every individual penny!).

Hats it 'till next time (bad hat-puns apparently ensue...)!

Twins again.

2009-04-22T20:21:00.000-07:00

Methinks still it's our similar taste in attire. Namely hat-ire.

Morels!

2009-04-20T18:20:00.000-07:00

Ever since the amazing Anja posted about morels, I've just been dying to go find some. So this weekend, husband and I headed into certain mossy, hillocked woods.

My mushroom-hunting outfit.

C with some of our finds.

Morels aren't the only interesting thing in the woods. We found many other funny-looking mushrooms, as well as these orchids, which often point the way to a good morel-spot.

I also discovered this hollow tree behind our house. It's very old and surrounded by other trees similarly singed by a long-ago fire.

We were excited to try our bounty, and the pasta dish C made of it turned out to be delicious. Suffice to say that food tastes a thousand times more wonderful when you walked around the woods for hours looking for it. We shall certainly go back for more next week. Now, if only this nice water would turn into some mushroom-inducing rain...

(all photos by C. Prince)

Spring finds

2009-04-02T16:26:00.000-07:00

According to my mycelium-mad husband it is morel-season. These little guys aren't them though.

As a-matter-of- fact I haven't found any of them yet. I have, however, found great thrifted things to decorate my house with.

I've found birds and houses.

(Remember this book?)

This little bear live in the Finnish woods that my lovely friends gave me as a going-away-present.

Also, since hubby thrifted this board, I'm thinking of making like Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes, and getting a house spirit...

And while thrifting for household items, I also discovered these Gunne Sax and Folkwear patterns. The thriftstore lady was quite excited by the latter. Edwardian underwear is definitely my next project.

A pair of long drawers would go well with this outfit don't you think?

A native mushroom container found at the Big Island thriftstore, with a this lovely blue top.

Not to mention these Frye Boots!

Now I just have to find mushrooms, mushrooms, mushrooms...

A huntin' we will go

2009-03-20T11:12:00.000-07:00

With longer days bringing more sunlight, small growing things begin to appear.

Nettles, for instance, make a marvelous tea. They can be used as soup greens, and in baking the same way spinach is. C has a great method for harvesting these prickly little guys:

Take a jar and a pair of scissors with you on your gathering expedition. Clip the tender ends of the nettles directly into the jar. They are the most delectable part.

The woods behind the house.

Bounty.

Hope to see you in the woods...

Thrifted

2009-03-15T14:41:00.000-07:00

With a single thrift shoppe, and nary a garage sale in sight during these final winter days, thrifting can be a bit of a challenge out here. Luckily there's the amazing, magical Mall to visit, and the thrift store happens to be a good one.

The Mall, a subject of a later post to be sure, is also known as The Dump, which is a far more descriptive name, since that's what it is: a take-it-or-leave-it, at the Island garbage disposal place.

Thus far the Mall has giveth this pair of Keds:

This cool 70s book.

This ah-mazing 70s mug.

This short and stout little teapot. Made in Finland.

This 50s Juniors dress.

And that my friends is hardly all at all...

There's also the off-Island thrift store, which I visited recently, an aside on our quest for Thai-food, books and yarn. The boat ride takes from forty minutes to and hour and half, but it is much fun, there's beautiful scenery and you can see seals, otters (like I did), and even orcas, if you're lucky.

On the Boat again.

Mt. Baker from the boat.

Passing the boat-time.

Mural.

Off-Island, as mentioned previously, has many things our Island doesn't, like a movie theatre, a yarn store and a used bookstore which, I love. None of those places however, compare to the Thriftstore.

While there, I hit the shoe jackpot. Wicked Laura Ingalls boots, a cowboy-ish pair, little mexican booties to wear in the house, as well as comfy indoor-mocs, and a pair of hiking shoes to boot.

All items thrifted.

More thrifty stories coming soon. Watch this space. 'till then: Happy Thrifting!

But still, it's a cage. Promise me you'll never put a living thing in it.

2009-03-08T23:35:00.000-07:00

So the internets were on the fritz for most of the weekend, but I did other stuff instead, like participated in a composting workshop, made soup in a snowstorm, scored some thrift finds for a certain someone, and had lots of coffee with my awesome husband.

I also got yet another awesome package from sunny California and among the many goodies in it, was this gorgeous 90s dress, and the bird cage, and its escaped bird. Thank you Missa!

As a homage to this beautiful necklace I will leave you with a little related literature:

"Never love a wild thing, Mr. Bell," Holly advised him. "That was Doc's mistake. Always lugging home wild things. A hawk with a hurt wing. One time it was a full-grown bobcat with a broken leg. But you can't give your heart to a wild thing: the more you do, the stronger they will get. Until they're strong enough to run into the woods. Or fly into a tree. Then a taller tree. Then the sky. That's how you'll end up, Mr. Bell. If you let yourself love a wild thing. You'll end up looking at the sky."

"She's drunk." Joe Bell informed me.

If you've only seen the movie, you're damn fool, in my humble opinion.

Mille Tendresses,

America

2009-03-01T11:44:00.000-08:00

America, why are your libraries full of tears? -Allen Ginsberg: The Howl

When Island people go to the mainland, they often refer to it as "going to America". This is because America has many things the Island does not; things like highways and freeways, franchise restaurants, Indian casinos, and military bases. There are Walmarts and Costcos, gun shops, and un-familiar faces, the endless crawl of traffic, the speed limits our car can barely make. Because of these things going off Island, and into America, can be at times kind of intense.

But then there are the music shops, the movie theatres, the museums, the strange wonderful roadside diners and antique stores, the mountains and rivers, the endless Zoo of the New, that draws us to cross the water.

This week we visited America for one of my favorite reasons: to see C's family. We had a lovely time, visiting with them, hanging out in Port Townsend, a Victorian town on the Peninsula, and even entering the dreaded Wmart, to buy me a sewing machine. Still, driving off that ferry you always feel suddenly lighter. The car enters a tunnel of trees, but even over the engine, you can hear a kind of silence, and you're home.

I honestly don't think I could quite handle living in the "real" America. The Island of course, has many things that America has not. Read all about them here.

On our way back home.

Twins

2009-03-01T10:14:00.000-08:00

Somebody asked us this week if we were related.

Methinks it's our matching wardrobe.

A little house

2009-02-12T08:59:00.001-08:00

The eponymous house in question is located on Island, WA, in the County Park where my husband works; and it is this log's intention to chronicle our lives there.

In all honesty, I should really call it "The Little House Across the Street from the Parking Lot", but this alternate title is simply too long, and decidedly too pedestrian. The house, with its two cozy rooms, porch, front yard, and separate garden, does in fact, overlook both the park's parking lot, and our little nook of the pacific ocean..

And what does it look like, this nook? Something like this, I'd say:

This by the way, is not the actual Little House, but the Little Little House, which is in the backyard.

A state ferry in the distance. (Photo by C. Prince)

Madrona trees. (Photo by C. Prince)

(photo by C. Prince)

The park extends beyond the beach into a bit of old growth forest. There's sweet trails to wander, a little creek, and a seemingly endless thicket of Salal bushes. People get to camp right along that beach, with awesome views. Not too shabby a vacation spot in my humble opinion. (Don't be fooled though, that tropical looking water does not get warm even at the height of summer.)

Across the strait is Nun Island, another one of the four main islands in the Archipelago. State ferries pass between the two islands almost hourly, and at night their big floating bulks glow in the dark, like apartment buildings, or lit-up whales sailing by.

(Photo by C. Prince)

The beach is strewn with shells and odd-shaped driftwood logs, not to mention all kinds of weird things discarded by the tide; bits of docks, trash, sea-glass, unexpected treasure, coils of kelp coiled around each other like giant, amorous snakes.

Never in my life have I lived this close to the sea, and I have to say; it may turn me into an old wish-wife yet, as evidenced below.

(Photo By C. Prince)

Not to worry: I only smoke liquorice. A-hoy 'till next week!

Here we are now

2009-02-01T04:34:00.000-08:00

and you can read all about it here.

Photo by hubby.