Category: Personal

Lunch on Rocky Hill

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Rocky Hill is private land, in the hands of several people. One of those people is a friend, and she arranged for us to go to the very top. I had asked her if we could have permission to climb it with The Farmer and Hiking Buddy, and she said she has access to the top and can take people, and yes, she would love to take us up. Then Tulare County had a flood.

After things settled down from the flood, we learned of a tour to see the pictographs on Rocky Hill. Our friend was part of the tour, and she suggested that we go to the top for lunch after the tour. You betcha!

Get this: there is a paved road to the very top of this big rocky hill, and by “big” I mean 5 miles in circumference and 3 miles in diameter (not sure where that got measured). Friend has a key, of course, and we loaded up chairs, a table, lunch, and ourselves, and headed up. And up. And up some more. 2.4 miles, specifically.

Friend had laughed to herself when I asked if we could climb it. She later told me she wasn’t having any part of climbing but was happy to drive up with us.

It was so very very perfect. Very very very perfect. A perfect way to spend the afternoon. Perfection.

Shut up, Central California Artist and show some photographs!

At the base—the hill sloping into the frame on the right is Rocky Hill.

That blue line is the Friant-Kern Canal. The wildflowers are mustard.

This is looking west.

And this is the unparalleled view of the Sierra. (Lots of people say “the sierras”, but it is the Sierra Nevada Mountains; thus “the Sierra” is the correct shortened term. You’re welcome. P.S. My dad taught me that.)

The tiny blue piece of water is actually called “Hamilton Lake”, and only appears in wet years.

The creek in the distance is Yokohl Creek, which did some real damage during the flood. People used to be able to remove sand from beneath the bridge, but some other people made them stop (for very petty reasons). Since then, the sand has piled deeper beneath the bridge and as a result, the creek flows very close to the underside of the bridge, which means debris builds up quickly during high water and then the water finds its way around the bridge, washing out the approach. Water always finds its way. (Ever heard of “unintended consequences”?)

The cattle were curious, as cattle can be. (Remember this? – scroll down to see)

Friend provided an excellent picnic lunch, so very generous, oh so good.

Through this tree is a black cow fixin’ to deliver a calf soon.

This was the only larkspur we saw.

What a perfect day! Thank you, Friend, for sharing your beautiful piece of Exeter and your heritage with us (and lunch!)

A Day on Rocky Hill

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Rocky Hill is on the edge of Exeter, California, in Tulare County, a well-known, well-loved landmark. It is the only convenient non-flat place to walk, run, or bikeride in the area, and there is a perpetual stream of foot and bicycle traffic up the road. The entire hill is private property, so all the activity takes place on the county road that goes over the saddle between Badger Hill and Rocky Hill.

Rocky Hill has many many Indian pictographs (and lest you get your knickers in a twist about “Indians”, the Native Americans I know prefer to be referred to as “Indians”). On the south side of the hill, 30 acres belong to a conservancy, and occasionally there are tours to view the pictographs. We had the privilege of participating in a tour on last Thursday.

Alas, it is forbidden to post photos of the pictographs on the interwebs. So, you get to see some scenery instead.

Rocky Hill is very rocky. It could be called Boulder Hill.

These are not pictographs; they are mortars, so I am showing you. (so there)

This is the fruit of a wild cucumber. The seeds provided the binders for the pigment used to paint on the rocks.

Lichen isn’t paintings so I photographed it.

Clover. I love wildflowers.(Did you know that?)

Boulders.

The view of Moses Mountain distracted me from the paintings.

The Farmer and Trail Guy were good listeners. Or maybe they were wondering when we could go eat lunch. We are not used to traveling in a pack or being told to stay together. Hiking Buddy was there too, along with other people we know and a few we did not.

I liked this view out from one of the caves we entered.

And then it was time for lunch, which was a private party that I’ll tell you about tomorrow.

Following up on Earlier Subjects

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Does “following up” mean finishing? Concluding? Completing? Then why don’t we say that instead?

Sorry. Sometimes I get caught up in words.

Remember in the Learned in March post that I showed you chocolate navels? This is how they look on the inside.
Remember seeing this table in progress?This is how it turned out.
Did I mention anything about going around the neighborhood with clippers and buckets to pick wildflowers? This is how they were used.
Still nothing to report on the two murals in the courtyards at St. Charles, the largest Catholic church in North America, in Visalia, where I was asked to paint some murals back in October. I redid the contract to reflect the increase in mural paint prices and the customer’s request that I train someone to paint a third mural, someone who doesn’t speak English or have experience. The saga continues. . .

Early Morning Walk in Three Rivers

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This stunningly beautiful spring in Three Rivers isn’t over yet. We’ve had no hot days, and although it might have been warm enough one day for the rattlesnakes to emerge, I haven’t seen any or heard any reports. So, instead of blathering on about using pencils, oil paint and murals to make art that you can understand of places and things you love for prices that won’t scare you, let’s go on another walk. (See how I did that?)

This is BLM (Bureau of Land Management) property about a mile above my house. Because the two footbridges washed out, there isn’t much traffic up there, which makes it the way I remember it before people started slapping it all over the interwebs and turning it into a popular place. (Mine, mine, all mine!)

Back along the road, the brodiaea were thick. These are also called “wild hyacinth” and “blue dicks”.

These are a miniature version of lupine. They look like Texas bluebonnets which are just a variety of lupine.

This one is in my yard: fiesta flower.

A resident of Tulare County might wonder why one remains here, with all the smog, “nothing to do”, high unemployment, high welfare, low education, fat people, high teen pregnancy, lack of a Trader Joe’s. However, if one is in Three Rivers in the spring after a wet winter, one might wonder why more people don’t live here.

Don’t move here, okay? You will hate it, especially in the summer. On the other hand, if you buy a house here, please do move here because there are more than enough vacation rentals in town.

Now, I might need to go pull some weeds.

Three Rivers Tulare county wildflowers

Fifteen Years of Blah-blah-blah Blogging

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Today is not about art.

Tomorrow marks FIFTEEN YEARS of blogging, five days a week. Day after day, blah blah blah, this is what I do, what I did, what I’m planning to do, yadda yadda yadda, I went here, saw this, and did that, want to buy some art/a book/some cards? I learned something, I have questions, I have thoughts.

“Blog”. Weird word. This is an online journal, a log on the web, a web log, web-log, weblog, blog.

And I can’t seem to stop.

Today is not about art. It is just showing you some photos from my life, which seems normal to me, but is probably peculiar to you.

I took my car, Fernando, for an oil change. While Mark from Foreign Auto (559-734-8285, Honda, Toyota, Lexus, and Acura only) was taking care of Fernando, I walked to downtown Visalia. Mill Creek is flowing. This is what keeps those valley oaks alive. Quercus lobata is the name of these oaks, the largest in the country. (There is a black and white cat in the first picture.)

The next day, Trail Guy and I climbed up on the bank behind the house to cut a dead live oak. Doesn’t that sound weird? “Dead live oak”.

It felt wrong to smash the wildflowers.

My job was to help get the wood down to the neighbor’s driveway so we could load it into the back of the pick’em-up truck. Mostly I dragged, endoed, or rolled the heavy limbs so Trail Guy could use his superior strength to pitch them off the hill.

And then my work was done, so I went ogling things in bloom in the yard. Some years I miss this calla lily, but everything is slower this year so I caught this guy in its prime. It is called Dragon Arum. Finally learned, using a plant identification app called PictureThis. It is free but tries to trick you into subscribing by hiding the word “Cancel” in the upper righthand corner, almost invisible.

And that’s all I have for today, another glorious cool green flowery spring day in Three Rivers when I am supposed to be working but keep finding interesting things to do instead.

Thank you for listening, reading, looking, hanging around, commenting, caring, being there all these years!

P.S. Happy Birthday, Hiking Buddy! I mailed you a card yesterday, but it might have to go to Santa Clarita first. Could have walked it to you faster, but you know about my feet these days. . . May you be warmed and filled today.

Nine New Things Learned in March

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Each month I wonder if I have learned anything. I seem to forget much of what I post in these monthly learned lists and wonder if anyone else does too. If you are curious, and if your screen shows Categories with searching capabilities, you can click on Learned List and see as many of the 71 past lists (I began doing this in 2017) as you care to waste, umm, no, spend time reading. Here is March’s tidbits for you to mull over (and then forget).

Masonite can only be ordered in 100 sheet bundles so local builder supply stores don’t stock it; you must go to one of those dreaded big box stores.
Three Rivers Drug Store closed. They’ve been in our town since 1963, and it will be quite an inconvenience for many residents.
Making ricotta cheese looks easy when one reads the recipes; in reality, it’s a different story.I ended up with about 1/2 cup of very squishy cheese and a whole lot of whey to use in baking bread. It might make sense to make ricotta if one owned a cow and had a tremendous amount of milk to use up. I’ll stick to making yogurt.
People need to keep their culverts cleaned out, even in dry years. If they don’t, they will lose parts of their driveways in wet years.
The Mineral King road is wrecked; it will get fixed. (That is Tulare County’s problem).
The East Fork flume is wrecked; it might get fixed. (That is SCE’s problem).
Chocolate navels are very peculiar in appearance, and mild in flavor. They do NOT taste like chocolate; the name comes from the brownish color. I wonder how they’ll do in the markets.
Ringing the bell is something that cancer patients do when they complete chemotherapy. I learned this from a blog I follow, called The Frugal Girl. Someone in the comments mentioned that she “rang the bell”, and many of the other commenters congratulated her, so I looked it up.
The liquid surrounding canned beans is called “aquafaba” and can be used as a substitute for eggs in baking. It can also be whipped up like egg whites. Isn’t that bizarre?? I regret all the gallons I have wasted when making hummus: “drain the beans”. . . NO!! DON’T DRAIN THEM!! THINK OF THE COST OF EGGS!

P.S. I added the word “new” to the title because the search engines give me a higher rating with that word there. . . sometimes I find myself caving to such nonsense. If I learned it, then it must be new, eh?

Bonus: Spring Walk in Three Rivers

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This is an afternoon walk at Salt Creek earlier this week. No chit-chat, no April fooling, just photos.

Springtime Takes Precedence over Work

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Instead of showing you my current art projects or discussing the unending challenges and rewards of being a fulltime artist in Tulare County, today is another bonus peek at spring in Three Rivers.

These photos were taken on Friday morning.

Tomorrow I’ll show you my current odd job.

Three Rivers

Spring in Three Rivers

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There have been ongoing diversions and distractions lately. In spite of loving what I do for a living, there are many things I would rather do when it is spring in Three Rivers.

Early last week it snowed low again. The white snow on the peaks blended with the white sky, so all you can see is a tiny hint of Moro Rock.

The measuring stick on the downstream side of the Dinely Bridge got washed away in the flooding.

This is looking upstream, and maybe you can get a slight hint of how low the snow is.

I spent some time helping friends prepare the yard where their daughter’s wedding will be. We kept taking breaks because of the rain.

She wants to get married in front of that tipi thing.

I had a little trouble being efficient with my time, because the four black cattle (cows are females that have given birth; these are either heifers or steers, for beef) kept asking for my prunings, and the smaller black creature kept wanting me to toss the Frisbee.

Did you know that black steers have dark gray tongues? I didn’t. It was very challenging to capture that peculiarity with a camera.

You can see a little bit of the tongue on the left side of the photo.

They were highly entertaining.

Apparently they thought I was too.

This reminds me of a joke about some guys at a diner. They asked about the special, and when they were told it was cow tongue, one of them said, “Oh gross! I’d never eat anything that came out of a cow’s mouth. I’ll just have some eggs.”

One of the trees I was pruning was a Meyer lemon, and it inspired me to take this photo.

Meanwhile, it was raining on the flowering quince, which is usually in bloom around mid-February. Not this year!

Another chance to soak up the brilliant color of the fantastic germander.

I love spring in Three Rivers. Can you tell?

Morning Walk up Salt Creek

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This morning I went for a walk up Salt Creek (Bureau of Land Management property). It was so beautiful that it warrants an extra blog post of photographs.

The first photo was taken at the Dinely bridge while waiting for my walking buddy to arrive. The rest are on the BLM property.

There is a new parking lot at the top of Salt Creek Road, but the gate prevents anyone from using it. We went that way because the 2 footbridges crossing Salt Creek got washed away.