Another entirely personal post, not about art or Mineral King.
Who are these people and why are they smiling? (Yes, that passes for a smile on Trail Guy’s face when a camera is involved.)
That is Trail Guy and Central California Artist, and they are still married after 30 years and still like each other.
Not going to get mushy on the World Wide Web, so ’nuff said.
This post will be entirely personal, so feel free to skip it if you only come for art or Mineral King.
Did you know that Israel is 236 miles from north to south?
Recently, Trail Guy and I drove the equivalent of that distance 11 times over, and we only saw parts of 5 of our 50 states.
We live in a HUGE country, people. HUGE.
The first day of the road trip took us up Interstate Five. The further north we went, the easier the traveling became, due to diminishing traffic. (We avoid 99 because it seems as if everyone on that road is trying to kill us.)
The most interesting thing we saw that day was just south of the weird town of Weed: a lot full of rainbow colored water trucks. It is so remarkable that I looked it up online. They don’t have a website, but I found that their name is Truck Village. You can see a photo here.
Weed is quaint. It was named after Abner Weed, not after pot. Mount Shasta dominates the town, but I don’t have photos because the sun was directly over it when I took my morning walk. Here are a few photos showing the quaintness:
Our second day driving took us to our first real destination of Salem, Oregon. That leg of the trip was the shortest driving day and the prettiest. We saw wind machines in a few orchards, something we only associate with citrus in the Central Valley. So, we went exploring to see what needed frost protection, and this was the surprising answer:
Then we detoured to a landmark that I have been enjoying for years as we burn up the petrol along I-5.
It is called “Grave Creek” because of something sad a very long time ago, not because people are serious here.
Salem was all about Golden Delicious apples and making fruit leather. Had to do something while it rained; we had a very enjoyable time with family and apples.
The day after tomorrow I will continue to show and tell about the very long way there, and where “there” is.
This post is entirely personal. If you are only here for art or Mineral King, please return tomorrow.
Perkins was part of our lives for 17 years. In his time with us, he saw 14 other cats come and go. He survived tomcat attacks, rattlesnake bites and countless coyote and bobcat visits to the yard. He was a master gopher-getter, very accepting of all new cats into his territory, a chirper who didn’t meow much or make a fuss, content with his place on the front porch in summer or by the woodstove in winter, and a couch-destroyer.
We are now catless for the first time since March of 1987. We aren’t interested in getting more cats – we need time to adjust to the emptiness and to figure out the right situation for our 2 household lifestyle. And we need time to replace or recover the couch.
It is an interesting phenomenon of a seasonal community like Mineral King that friendships can be formed on the basis of a few days a year over the course of many years.
A prime example is our relationship with the Sawtooth Six, our neighbors for 4 days a year over the last 30-something years.
It took me quite a few years to learn their names. We used to find out when they were visiting and plan to be gone that weekend. Now everyone has grown up, and we anticipate the Sawtooth Six’s visit with pleasure.
This will be an entirely personal post. Skip it if you came here for Mineral King or art. Return tomorrow for Mineral King.
“The Captain” is how I refer to this fabulous birthday girl. She is my closest friend (one of several that I consider my BFFs, although how can there be more than one “best”?), who knows almost everything about me and loves me anyway, and is a blessing to everyone she encounters.
WARNING: This post is very long, entirely personal and has nothing to do with my art or Mineral King.
When I was in third grade, a new family started attending my church. I became friends with Deanne, a first grader. We are still friends, with layers and decades of history and experiences binding us together.
Deanne had two older brothers. The oldest, Darrell, was 3 years older than me, so I mostly ignored him. When we were in our twenties, we were both living in Visalia, and we starting hanging out together. He was cool, charismatic, fun, friendly, and good-looking, an important feature among people in their twenties.
Last week we lost Darrell. I wrote up some thoughts to share with his family, and decided to share an abbreviated version with you, Faithful Blog Readers. These are life lessons that I learned from him.
Lesson #1: Help people when you are able.
When I needed to pack up my apartment and put everything in storage. Darrell helped me do that, and a sub-lesson I learned from him was how to efficiently pack a storage unit. He was a hard worker and showed me how to take advantage of every available inch. I was a little shocked to see him turn my brand new couch on its side, but he knew what he was doing.
Lesson #2: Find fun, make fun, and enjoy life every place possible.
Darrell had a distinct laugh, one that another friend described as “stuttery”. If it could be spelled, it would truly be “heh-heh- heh”. While shuttling my possessions to the storage unit, he made a shortcut across a vacant lot. I said, “Where are you going??” and he said, “I’m not driving the long way around, heh-heh-heh!” So we bounced across the vacant lot and across the sidewalk and down a curb in a borrowed pick-up.
At a high school youth retreat, the youth sponsor’s door came off the hinges, and the bell tower mysteriously played “Smoke on the Water” instead of a hymn. I remember a TPing incident that involved a lot of shouting and laughter and fast driving away. If there was something that was on the edge, scary, or risky, Darrell was usually involved.
Lesson #3: Be a gentleman, regardless of the circumstances.
I lent him a car at a time when I had two, and it was a mistake. There was a lot of chaos and upset, but the car was returned, and nothing bad happened. Later, Darrell apologized to me for causing trouble. I was touched by his concern.
When we were hanging around together, it was often with another girl friend of mine. Darrell was concerned about our reputations, because we were “good girls” and he was a “bad boy”. We both reassured him that we weren’t worried, because if he needed good girls in his life to help him get on track, then we were there for him.
Lesson #4: Always work hard.
No matter what adverse circumstances Darrell created for himself, he managed to find work. He liked to be outdoors, and to do physical labor. He was never afraid of work, and usually chose farming. There was that tomato project at his parents’ place early on. . . I don’t think it turned out well, but he didn’t seem to get discouraged.
Lesson #5: Often our choices cause difficult consequences for more than just ourselves.
Life is all about choices and consequences. We all make good and bad choices, and the final lesson I learned from Darrell is that our choices definitely affect other people. He didn’t use discernment when he generously offered a room to someone he barely knew, someone who killed him without mercy. The consequences of that decision are affecting all of us who cared about him.
I believe that Darrell is now with Jesus. We were baptized at the same time, when I was 8 and he was 11, along with his brother, my sister and another friend. We all were young, but every one of us sincerely believed at that time. A number of years later, I learned something important from a wise Bible teacher, who happened to be Darrell’s own mom. She said in reference to John 3:16 that “Eternal means eternal. How can something be eternal if it can be taken back?”
So, in spite of him not being a current part of my life, he was part of my past and will be again in the future.
Here’s a catch-all, catch-up post for you on random topics. My blog post ideas are triggered by pictures, and these were just languishing in the file without purpose.
This painting was very difficult. I worked on it from real life, and from several different photos taken at different times of year. This is the final iteration (unless someone has a suggestion for further improvement).
We are in year #4 of a drought. In spite of 15″ of precipitation in July, there was no snow on Bear Skin, the almost-year-around patch on the side of Vandever, which forms one side of Farewell Gap in Mineral King.
My favorite bridge was built in the 1920s and is supposed to be replaced. This fills me with dread. The current plan is to keep this one as a footbridge/landmark and push the road further up the canyon with some sort of newfangled, modern, probably-not-very-attractive contraption that will destroy the simple beauty of this scene. But I am neutral to the subject, keeping an open mind. . .
Sometimes when I drive down the Mineral King Road, I am struck by new scenes. You’d think that after 31 summers of driving it almost weekly that I wouldn’t notice a thing. You’d be wrong.
At the end of the Mineral King Road is a bridge. (It was rebuilt in Sept. and Oct. 2011 and the process was documented fully on this blog.) The abutment gets a lot of water abuse on one side, and was piled with rocks to protect it. However, kids love to use rocks to build dams in the stream, and most of those rocks got scooted away! So, the men in uniform and heavy equipment had to come redo the rocky protection underneath the bridge.
Some new friends joined us in Mineral King early in the summer. Mister New Friend was an outstanding photographer, and he took this photo of Trail Guy and me. (Thank you, MAK!)
Perkins and I thank you for joining us in the random topic round-up.
1961 – 2015
STEVE was charismatic, confident, intense, competitive in many sports, and my brother-in-law for almost 30 years. It’s hard to imagine our family without him.
Random is a good word for unrelated items piling up in my head.
Steve made the video around August 1, but I have been taking refuge in drawing and gardening rather than talking about reality. (If you know him, you probably already saw the video.) Thank you to all who have been praying and expressing your kind concern.
Sometimes I paint things that are a little bit too hard for me. They are not commissions, nor are they subjects that I think will sell.
Instead, they are things that I just want to paint, in spite of my lack of skill or experience. After I have completed paintings that need to be done for sale, working on these types of paintings is my “reward”.
Wow, is this ever difficult!! This is my great-niece, and I think of the painting as The Flower Girl.
The girl is from this photo.
The flowers are from this one.
The girl feels too difficult, so I am now focusing on the flowers. It is fun to find and mix all the colors, and if I get the petals a bit wrong, it isn’t critical like the face is.
Success on the flowers (still not finished) gave me confidence to paint a bit more on the girl.
Her hairbow is better and her arm is a little chubbier. This might need to rest for a month or two while I build my confidence and skill on paintings that don’t matter to my heart quite so much.
This will need about 10 more painting sessions, a decision on the background color, and a whole bunch of do-overs.
But I’m learning. That is what happens when one pushes through something that is a little bit too hard.
Okay, it might be a LOT too hard.