2005

I know I haven’t written in a long while, so I guess I owe you a wrap up on my summer.  It was adventure in the best sense of the word, excursions in southern Oregon, new people and places, an opportunity to see what the world thought of my “art”, all in all an exciting and fulfilling opportunity.

I coerced a neighbor into joining me in my rambles and our first outing was to Crater Lake.  She

Crater Lake

doesn’t own a car so it was fun to share some of what I had seen previously and explore the new.  Our first stop was at an old mill in Eagle Point.  We met the new owner who had taken it over from an older couple who felt they could no longer manage the business.  Thank goodness he was as interested in preserving the property as building the business.  It still has an old stone grinding wheel which had once been powered by water.  They still grind flour and other grains and sell them in a retail store in the original building.  Although it has been electrified much of the original infrastructure remains.  He was busy cleaning out the lower level and rediscovering some of the artifacts which were piled willy nilly throughout.  It was dusty, with light filtering through the chinks in the building, all very artsy and atmospheric.  I left Mary Ann to explore the shop and had a mad half hour shooting old wheels and cogs, dust motes and boots, shovels and other paraphernalia of days gone by.  Much more exciting and gratifying than landscapes and definitely better than people.  If only the rest of the world thought it as exciting as I do. 

Back on the road, with a brief stop in Shady Cove, not much there to catch the eye.  Then, up in to the Cascades in search of Crater Lake.  Summer is the time of road works in Oregon and the rest of the world I suspect.  We squeaked through as the last car in the first one we came to.  The signs had said expect 20 minute delays, so we felt especially good about missing out on that.  A couple of quick stops to explore old lava tubes left from the eruption of Mount Mazama (aka Crater Lake) and an opportunity to stretch our legs.  One of the pull outs had a mile or so  hiking trail that parallelled what must have been a piece of the Rogue River.  It runs in a deep chasm churning and roiling down the gorge and then disappears in to a lava tube only to re-appear 100 yards later.  Back in to the car and then the turn-off and a long climb toward the summit.  The trees are sparse and you can see the remains of a fairly recent fire.  The forest is trying to reclaim the land and there are saplings and trailing vines and wild flowers, not at all like the devastation that clear cutting produces.  Tall trees still stand, some are damaged with the scars from the fire still apparent, some seem untouched stretching to the sky.  The road is empty, it is midweek after all and all is serene. 

It’s those signs again, Road Work, Expect 30 minute delays, but there has been no evidence of road work and we feel safe.  Wrong, there ahead is a single figure holding a stop sign, we have missed the last caravan of cars and we are first in line.  We talk to the guy with the sign, yes indeed we probably have a 30 minute wait.  His job is to stand there and explain to all vehicles the rules, turn off your car, don’t stand in the road (what is there to worry about, we haven’t seen anyone in half an hour), stay near by don’t go wandering off into the forest and once we are allowed to go don’t pull in to any of the rest stops or  pull-outs to explore because you won’t know what direction the traffic is coming from when you pull back on to the road.  He  looks like an ageing hippy with a long grey pony tail and a hard hat.  He asks if we know what event has it’s 30 something anniversary today. . . the summer of love, no, the end of the war in Viet Nam, wrong again . . .  He gives us what he thinks is a hint by turning around to show us his pony tail and whistles a song that sounds vaguely familiar.  The Beatles, Janice Joplin’s death, no it’s the anniversary of Woodstock and he was there.  Now I do have to admit he is the first person I have ever met who was actually there.  Come to find out he calls himself Harpo, ring any bells?  Not for me either.  He is a musician and once played with Cream.  He has just released a CD, Half Way to Cleveland, and lives in Talent just up the road from Ashland.  I make some notes vowing to do a little research when I get home . . .

By the time our half hour is over there are perhaps another ten cars behind us as we follow the pilot car on up the hill.  It is seven miles of ruts and ditches, there is no pavement left.  The air is thick with dust and the smell of asphalt.  By winter there should be a nice new road but right now it is a mess.  We rocket back and forth between lanes, teeth rattling in our heads.  

We reach the lake and search for a parking space.  Given how few cars there were on the road I have no idea where all these people have come from, obviously not up the road we were fool enough to travel.  A picnic on the rim, a hike along a trail and a look at the Lodge.  It isn’t nearly as grandiose as the Ahwahnee or the Lodge at Old Faithful but pleasant.   The lake is incredibly blue,  there is some scientific explanation for it which I can’t remember and enormous.  It is very nearly impossible to photograph but I snap off a few shots. 

The day is nearly gone and we head for home.  Having no desire to sit through possibly two road works and wasting the better part of an hour we take the road that leads to Klamath Falls thinking it will be faster.  It would seem we have made another poor choice.  What do we find after a half hour of driving, a sign saying road works ahead.  We’re down in the Klamath valley, fields of hay and cattle and wide open spaces.  As we zoom by I see a sign pointing to Rocky Point, didn’t I see that on the map.  In a mad moment I decide to chance it.  A quick u-turn, there’s no one around to even notice and we’re off down a road to who knows where.  Maybe this way no one will be working on the roads.  Well I was right about the road works, there were none, but we are truly in the back of beyond.  The road goes on and on and on.  Off in the distance I can see what is probably Klamath Lake.  Rocky

Point turns out to be a boat launch site, there have been no cars, no communities no nothing (not even anyone headed out to launch a boat) in 45 minutes and were getting low on gas.  I have visions of sitting by the side of the road praying for a fellow traveller.  The fields turn to trees and then we begin to climb back in to the mountains, so what is the optimal speed for conserving fuel when driving up twisty back country roads, hell if I know. 

A sign pointing to Lake of the Woods and one of those slam on the brakes, sharp turns to the right (I know they have gas and the computer on the car tells me I have another 45 miles before I need to buy gas.)  The last time I was here there was six foot of snow and the lake was frozen, now it’s ATVs and fisherman.  Bought two gallons of gas at $5.00 a gallon, well all right 4.99.  Seems I was just getting in practice for post Katrina/Rita prices.  

Did a girls day out with the neighbors.  What is a girls day out you might ask. . .  for us it was a trip to Montague where there is and Olde English Tea Shop.  You would think there would be one in Ashland with the Shakespeare Festival and all.  Actually that is Mary Ann and my foolish fantasy opening a tea room, lace doilies and all.  Why there would be a tea room in Montague is beyond me, it’s not exactly a thriving metropolis, it doesn’t even have a stop light.  The main street is two blocks long, on one side, the other side is a railway siding.  There are of course two bars in the space of those two blocks.  Anyway we went to tea and ordered their Princess Tea, which meant we got one of those three tiered dishes with sweet and savory goodies as well as a pot of tea each.  The place is all lace curtains and flowers and antiques.  They have a collection of hats, gloves, jewelry, boas etc and encourage you to dress up.  I ended up feeling rather foolish but have to admit with just two other ladies to see me it was kinda fun. 

In the midst of the market and gallivanting all over half of creation did manage a trip back to the Bay Area to see Mick before he left for England to celebrate his Dad’s birthday.  Confirmed that Sunday is the day that they have Mexican food at the Indian Casino and won about $125.00.  Lucky for me, not them, that it is only a rest stop on the way.  Otherwise I would probably sit and gamble it all back. 

Montague, remember the two bar no stop light town, had a balloon festival.  Got myself up at

4:00 a.m. to get down there before dawn.  Word had it they were doing a dawn ascension and thought it would be pretty cool to see the balloons all lit up by the flame they use to heat the air.  In the end it was daylight before they began but I did get to crew for one of the balloons.  I would have gotten to have a ride had I been willing to go with the chase vehicle when they came down but I had other plans so only assisted in getting them unpacked, up and away.  Didn’t get as many pics as I might have liked but I did learn a lot about ballooning. 

Okay, guess I have gone on long enough for now.  Watch for the last installment soon , , ,  Gayle goes to Washington.  Went back to my roots and did an anti-war protest. 

I thought I had said all I wanted to say about Oregon but of course as time goes on I think of other things which I did not share.  If you were part of my distribution list when I went to Montana perhaps you remember I used to end my note with things I have learned.  That seems the best way to finish off my Oregon adventure.

1. If you want to travel in Northern California or Southern Oregon in the summer be prepared for road works.
2. Every road in this part of the country, other than Interstate 5, is two lanes and they will be doing road works
3. You can travel most of the way from Ashland to Redding on the Old Hwy 99, which is of course a two lane road and they are doing roadworks.
4. There is no predicting who will buy a photograph or why.
5. People are hard wired to like flowers
6. There is no explaining why someone would go all the way to Ashland Oregon to buy a picture of a Scottish Castle . . . but they did.
7. Sundays on the market are slow, unless of course it’s the Sunday when everyone decides they haven’t anything better to do.  Then they go for a walk in the park and take a look at the market.
8. If I had a nickel for every person who treated my booth as an Art Museum I would be rich. 
9. If it’s a guy and he’s carrying a big digital camera be prepared to discuss photography, printers, lenses and all things photographic.
10. Don’t be offended if someone says, “oh, I could do that”.  It’s probably true if they take as many pictures as I do.
11. There isn’t much difference between 95 degrees and 105, either way it is bloody hot.
12.  I can drink a gallon of water when it gets that hot and hardly need to pee.
13.  The Scotts Valley is really beautiful and it isn’t really that far to drive.
14.  Pilots of hot air balloons are subject to many of the same tests and licensing as airplane pilots.
15.  The Klamath Falls/Lake area deserves to be explored.
16.  I like the California coast better than the southern Oregon coast.
17.  It’s okay to go camping by yourself when you’re an old lady, in fact it’s a lot of fun. 
18.  Digital cameras are great for color but not for black and white.
19.  The previous statement is not entirely true, it’s my printer that doesn’t do black and white very well.
20.  Don’t sit back and wait for adventures, go find them.  There’s a lot to see and do and the people you meet will amaze you.

CHRISTMAS 2013 - A YEAR IN REVIEW

How can it be possible, it's another year and I am sitting here at my computer, watching the snow fall and wondering just what it is that I should be sharing with all of you.  Was there anything special, major trips, life events?  No, not really.  Just the joy of taking each day as it comes, finding a reason to have a good laugh, spending time with friends and family, the opportunity to give back to our community and of course, my personal favourite, travel.

On that somewhat mundane, but philosophical note I think I will begin.  We are both well, no major complaints, catastrophes or pieces falling off in the road.  Just the normal, run of the mill aches, pains and malfunctions that come with not being 21 any longer.  Mick's Dad is also doing reasonably well, despite having bladder cancer (old age will do him in before the cancer does) and, in his words, a "dickey" heart.  They gave him a pacemaker at age 91 so my guess is the National Health Service thinks he's worth the investment.  The only problem is being so far away it is hard to assess what is really happening.  Fortunately he has a great group of care givers who are with him on a daily basis and neighbours who check to see if he opens his blinds and picks up the milk each morning.  Yes, they still deliver milk in England and doctors make house calls!!

Our kids, sorry Ben and Leigh, you will always be "kids", have settled into their separate lives in the Bay Area.  Leigh is still with Golden Bay Glass, anybody need some windows replaced? While Ben has just finished his undergraduate degree and is working on a Masters at Cal State East Bay.  Next year will be the turning point for him when he has to decide where to go to school to get a doctorate in Physical Therapy.  We don't get down to see them as much as in the past but we will all be together for Christmas in Hawaii, which is beginning to sound better and better as the snow here gets deeper and deeper. 

Top of Moana Kea 14,000 ft & yes that is snow

Haleakala Crater - Maui

Now begins our travelogue, which I freely admit  is what I really most enjoy writing about.   Well, I guess I will also have to relate the tale of the raccoon wars, as well.  In the Spring we used one of our timeshare weeks in Kona, along with another week to spend at an off the grid B&B in Maui.  Not a bad way to escape the grey of an Oregon winter. It actually all began with a trip with Ashland  friends to San Francisco.  Mick and two of the women had been doing classes at OLLI (Osher Life Long Learning Institute) on art history.  The instructor, an ex university professor, was covering the Dutch Masters and remarked that there would be a exhibit at the De Young, "The Girl With the Pearl Earring".   Seems reason enough for a long weekend in SF.  We rented a three bedroom house near Golden Gate Park, on the Metro line and we were set.  Hit Chinatown and found a group of Lion Dancers exorcising spirits in a new building, wandered up to Coit Tower and generally enjoyed ourselves.  Finished things off with a foodie adventure in the Mission with Ben, Dino, Anthony and Scott.  In the course of a couple of hours we devoured, donuts (San Francisco's equivalent of Voo Doo donuts),  chicharones, matza ball soup, Pastrami sandwiches, smoked fish salad, rum cake, eclairs, ice cream and I can't remember what else. 

Proteas at a Farmers Market

Food Crawl 2013

On to Hawaii, the  B&B in Maui was an absolute delight.  A big plantation style house with a covered veranda on two sides and an absolutely gorgeous garden.   You would have never known they were off the grid unless you opened the refrigerator.   Consider this, there is no light when you open the door of a gas driven refrigerator . . .  it is powered by propane, not electricity!   They were a couple of miles down a dirt road that itself was off the infamous Road to Hana. A little out of the way, but then no worries.  It's not like there was much to do except relax, eat, and do a little whale watching.  We did drive the road to Hana and then kept going until we came out on the other side of the island. The rental companies say you can't do it,.  There's probably a mile of unpaved road and a lot of bad single lane road along cliff edges.  But we found the Maui equivalent of Rent a Wreck whose only caveat was if we broke down out there no one would come get us.

I think this says it all

Post Ranch Cocktail Hour

On our way back we stopped and spent a few days with family and since it was Ben's Spring Break we took him and Dino down Highway 1 and back up 101 to do a little beach bumming, hiking, wine tasting, hot tubing, Mission exploring and of course eating.  Somewhere in midst of all that we did an evening tour of San Simeon, aka Hearst Castle and gawked at the elephant seals.

Happy Seal

Morro Rock

Back to Ashland in time to do some cleanup in the community garden, install fences to keep the pesky deer away from OUR FOOD and plant a garden.  We did get a bit carried away with vegetables but then the local food bank was glad of our surplus.  Besides the normal tomatoes and zucchini, there were two types of potato (red and yellow) green beans, kale, chard, onions, garlic, carrots, radishes and butternut squash.  Almost forgot the beets.  Naturally enough most of this came in about the time Mick headed over to the UK to look after his father.  The one upside, however, is our pantry is well stocked with preserves, syrup and chutneys, while the deep freeze has plenty of veg and casseroles for reheating in the dead of winter . . . hmm, maybe a day like today.  

Snow Day - View from the garage

Our next adventure was up to Washington state and the San Juan Islands which run between the US and Canada.  They were once an item of serious contention between the US and Canada, and the location of what has come to be known as the Pig Wars.  Seems, in 1846, the Treaty of Oregon set the boundary between Canada and the Oregon Territory as the 49^th parallel and  from the Rocky Mountains "to the middle of the channel which separates the continent from Vancouver's Island”, then south through the channel to the Strait of Juan de Fuca.   Okay, that's all well and good except, in fact the channel is really two channels, the Haro Strain and the Rosario Strait and the San Juan Islands lie between the two.  

Breakfast, East Sound, Orcas Island

Roche Harbor, San Juan Island

Port Townsend Ferry

The only way out to these islands is by ferry, but if a laid back lifestyle and boats is your cup of tea then this is the place for you.  We did nothing in particular except wander and hike and relax.  In Roche Harbor we had the opportunity to tour what would have to be categorised as a yacht.   60 feet long, 3 bedrooms, three bathrooms, modern kitchen with all the normal conveniences, flat screen tv and home theatre system.  Sounds a lot like our house except that is was going for $1.7 million but on special  for $1.2.  Oh, and it only gets 2 miles to the gallon.  Our rough calculation is it would cost $5,000 to fill the tank.  Makes an RV sound like a sound investment.  

San Juan Island South Point Light House (the white dot)

Half way in to the summer and it's time to get the tent trailer out and do some camping.  We joined  Frank and Carol Sobotka once again (as in SF and the San Juans), along with their friends Phil and Anna, for some camping and fishing in Central Oregon.  The men tried their hand at fishing, catch and release, on the Metolius and the Deschutes,  while the ladies took in some shopping in Sisters.  It's good to get away and we were once again "off the grid" as it were while at Camp Sherman.  We installed some LED lighting in the tent trailer which provided us with plenty of light off the the battery, so am guessing we can do without hook-ups for much more prolonged periods than we have it the past.  Reading by coleman lamps or head lamps gets a little tiresome after a while.  

Mick and Phil at the top of Black Butte

Somewhere in the midst of all this we managed a trip to Portland to see Fleetwood Mac.  You know you must be getting old when half the audience has grey heads and you suddenly realise that you're part of that same generation.  We really enjoy Portland and every time we go have a look at condos for sale.  Think we missed out opportunity with one we saw near GeldWen Field but it was at the top of steep hill which kinda defeats the fact that the only real long term problem with the Ashland house is it has stairs. All the same, love Portland and will continue to explore the possibility of a home there, since there is no way we could afford San Francisco which would be the other big city alternative.  You have all heard me say it before, Ashland is great, I wouldn't change living here for anything . . .  except sometime a girl needs the noise and commotion

Mick fishing the Deschutes

of a big city.  

So, it we're not travelling what is it that keeps Ashland so entertaining.  First off there is OLLI, Osher Life Long Learning Institute, which offers classes at the university.  All the instructors are volunteers, but in this community that means you are likely to have a retired university professor, an ex nuclear scientist or a  lawyer whose previous work experience was with the foreign service.  Class range from the "hippy woo woo" how to live a long and happy life to discussions of the recent Supreme Court decisions and lots of stuff in between.  My goal has been to put together a class on "looking at pictures" an exploration of the art and craft of photography.  So far I have come up with the title!!  
 
The other things that keeps us occupied is volunteering for OSF (Oregon Shakespeare Festival) and JPR (Jefferson Public Radio).  Once you commit yourself to the volunteering thing

Fort Smith State Park near Bend

you get kinda addicted and of course with OSF there is the added benefit of free tickets.  With JPR it's mostly the fund drive but the Festival (as it is referred to here) offers anything from taking down and cleaning all the stage lighting at the end of the season to sitting in the Welcome Center and answering questions for the tourists.  We even plastered survey forms to seat backs and collected them from audience members. 

Portland

Raccoon wars . . . Raccoons have been an ongoing problem for a few years.  Once we had one living in the attic which we chased out by putting a light up there and playing Rush Limbaugh on the radio at full blast.  Lately they have taken to climbing on to the roof and using the space as their own personal bathroom.  We have sprayed foul smelling chemicals, put up wire barriers, hired professional "critter catchers" and generally did all we could think of the dissuade them, to no avail.   It is particularly obnoxious when you realize their access to the roof is across the gazebo and over the hot tub.  Never underestimate the ingenuity of one Michael Church, critter deterer extraordinaire.  In the most recent battle he started off by installing carpet tack strip along the top of the fence they use to access the gazebo . . . they just walked across it as though there were nothing there.  I f that weren't enough they left an extra

My Cinderella act at OSF

large and messy present on the roof which dropped down on the patio behind the hot tub.  I think that was the raccoon equivalent of giving someone the finger.   Solutions are at hand.  We are now the proud owner of an electric fence along the top of the fence.  No fear, no more raccoons, cats or if it were a problem rampaging cattle.  The little horrors have been defeated . . .  for the moment. 


That's it from our little corner of the world.  May the next year bring you all you need and more and may you experience all  the joy and sharing that this season of the year has to offer.


                               Mick & Gayle Church 

ASHLAND OREGON - ISSUE I JUNE 23 2005

WARNING OLD MATERIAL YOU MAY  HAVE SEEN ALREADY.  

  Over the course of the summer I hope to post some of my old emails under the guise of the Ashland Avatar.  I am surprised by how much I have written and decided it might be nice to have it all in one place. So, it may be ancient history and you may well have read it all before but here it goes. 

Hello from the land of Shakespeare, well at least a venue that makes a point of producing his works.  The  Elizabethan Theatre just opened, the weather is improving and things are getting busy.  I was gifted with tickets to see Faustus, that's not the whole name but it will have to do as I can't actually remember the entire title.  It is a play by Christopher Marlowe, a contemporary of William Shakespeare and one of those people who I am sure I was forced to study in high school.  But, in truth, all I remember is the name of Marlowe from English class (sorry Mrs Cuddback).   It's the story of a man who sells his soul to the devil.  That said, I am sure you can guess the rest.  The play itself wasn't anything to write home about but the costumes and staging were great fun.  Plenty of smoke and special effects, demons and the devil himself (he looked a bit like an early David Bowie).  The actor who played Mephistopheles, one of the Devil's minions was the best part.  You could see the wheels turning in his head and the glint in his eye.  Not really sleazy or evil but definitely amoral and taking great pleasure in the many tricks and subterfuges at which he excelled.  The weather held, there was no rain and the temperature stayed in the 60’s so it was pleasant  to sit under the stars and watch a play.  

The outdoor, or Elizabethan theatre, opens in early June which means the weather is not always that dependable.  I have heard the actors remark if the weather has turned bitter, cold and rainy it must be time for tech in the "Lizzie"; that being the first time they actually rehearse on the outdoor stage. There are two other theatres that are used by the Oregon Shakespeare Company.  The Bowmer is a fairly conventional house that holds roughly 600 souls.  The New Theatre,  however only holds 300 people or less, and can be configured in several ways.  We saw Richard I there a couple of years ago and it was stadium style.  The actors entered from either end and the audience was on either side.  They have also done productions in the round.  What you don't see is the conventional stage in front and rows of stadium seating.  

So, about the Artisans Market, you may ask.  We're back behind the “Plaza” sandwiched between the shops and the creek.  It's a fairly wide pedestrian plaza about a block long and lots of the restaurants have outdoor seating there.  At max I think it holds 40 vendors.  I guess it's still a little early so we haven't exceeded 30 yet.  Some people have actually remarked that there weren't many artists but then the weather hasn't been all that accommodating.  Last Saturday a number of vendors showed up but it started to rain and they left.  They were the smart ones; yours truly stuck it out and sold a great big zero.  Made up for it on Sunday though.  It's pretty much your typical art fair stuff, jewelry, pottery, stained glass and clothes.  Most of these people make a living at this, they truly amaze me.  They do Ashland all summer but then they go to other fairs throughout the state in the spring and fall.  Not to be rude but artisans is an apt descriptor, not a lot of "art" but what they do they do well.  Bill, one of the potters says he can't afford to make “art” he relies on volume.  I was looking at one of his vases and he was saying he can take the clay and create a vase in under two minutes.  And his costs are negligible.  He charge around $18 and he figures with clay, glazes and electricity for the kiln it may cost $1.50.  But you gotta sell a lot a $18 a pop to make a living. 

Trace, who makes hand carved wooden spoons, keeps his costs even lower.  All his wood is “found”.   If he sees someone chopping down a tree or an orchard being uprooted he offers to haul if away for free.  He also just goes walking in the forest and collects limbs.  He apparently does some really fancy carved stuff that goes for $75 - $100 but they don't sell here.  He sells to other gift shops or on the net.  He has made his living at this for 30+ years..  He's made bowls and breadboards, and periodically reinvents himself and makes something different.  The other week I told him I would buy one of his ladles if I sold enough.  In the end it was a slow day and I didn't have that many sales.  The next thing I know he's over at my booth looking through my greeting cards, selects four of them and trades me for the spoon.  This must be what barter is all about, I may learn some new skills before the end of the summer. 

So who are some of the other characters?  There's mean Miriam.  She and I started out on the wrong foot.  I parked my car in an area that is reserved for customers.  I am totally on board with that idea, we should walk a couple of blocks if it means our clientele can be closer but no one had clued me in on the restriction.  Well, it didn't take her too long to let me know, in no uncertain terms, that I was breaking the rules.  Perhaps it's not just me but me and cars that doesn't work for her.  Last week I pulled up too close to the wall when trying to get things out at the end of the day with the result that she couldn't get by my car on the right.  Now it's not as though there wasn't plenty of room on the left but, no, that was not acceptable (perhaps I broke another unwritten rule).  She just stood there glaring at me and insisted I move.   Guess I shouldn't feel like the lone ranger.  Poor Rob, the market manager,  had to move a great big almost boulder that she uses for her booth, for her because she was going to be late for yoga.  Come to think of it I have no earthly idea what she uses that rock for, but if yoga will help her temperament I’ll move the goddamn rock. 

There's Beverly who does massage and sells essential oils.  What a sweetheart.  She keeps telling me that things will pick up, the market's slow and that July and August are the best months.  She gives everyone pep talks and free mini massages.  Buck is a painter and he does those hideous (in my opinion) painting of dolphins and whales and all things metaphysical.  Actually he makes the paintings and then photographs them and makes prints. He insists that I should refer to my color stuff as “Giclee” because I use seven colors of ink.  What do I know, I’m just a photographer and as far as I’m concerned what I use is an inkjet printer.  But Giclee does sound rather grand; I may have to give it a try.  Guess I shouldn’t be too judgmental about his art; he’s been doing it for five years and makes money at it.  We have an ongoing competition to see who sells the most and I give him a bad time saying he needs to raise his prices because he can/does undercut my prices for the same size picture.   


Buck likes to tell me that he’s going to see to it that I have to set up my booth in the “VORTEX”, particularly when I am having a better day than he is.  The VORTEX is where he was several weeks ago when a big gust of wind came along, lifted his canopy up and over the wrought iron railings and dumped it into the creek.  There were prints and painting flying all over the place, who knows if we ever found them all.  Marcus and Bill got down in the creek with icy cold water above their knees and chased the canopy, which was floating merrily away upside down and legs in the air.  They retrieved it about 50 yards down stream just before it sailed into the bridge. Alaya and I followed and chased down prints and paintings.  It was an adventure with everyone hanging over the railing shouting directions and cheering us on.  I don’t know how much he lost but it kinda put a damper on things and we all packed up and went home early. 


My week seems to get eaten up with scanning new images, making prints and cutting mats.  I have this system down where every time I scan something or the printer is going I do chores around the house.  It took me the whole day today but I washed all the windows.  Guess I’m not much of a housekeeper, I realized in the midst of sending a print command and cleaning the next window that in the four years we have owned this place I have never washed the windows.  There’s a whole new world out there kind of like that ad they do for some kind of allergy medication, everything just got clearer.  Same thing works for vacuuming or washing floors.  Start the scanner going, start the vacuum.  Check back periodically to see what the progress is and keep on going.  I even got the front deck mopped.  I started out by sweeping it but it was still pretty gross.  I felt bad about just turning the hose on it and wasting all that water so . . .  I mopped it.  I’m sure the neighbors think I have lost it, but it looks good.  Although I do seem to be losing the battle with the spiders.  They must live under the deck and they make these woolly sort of webs.  Not nice neat architectural webs, messy, sticky, cottony sorts of webs.  I sweep them up, knock them down and generally do everything in my power to destroy them but within days they’re back.  They have even taken to attacking my rocking chair.  Went to sit down in it this morning, ready to enjoy a cup of coffee only to experience a tickling sensation all over the back of my neck. I turn to look and there’s this great big garden spider sitting between the slats of the chair staring at me.  Do spiders stare, who knows, but this one wasn’t budging.  I relented, she got the rocker, I sat in the green vinyl thing.  Got my own back later when I was washing widows though.  Spiders don’t like glass cleaner!

UK 2012 ISSUE 21

Water Butts

Did you really think I had finished with all things garden and gardening.  There is still the outstanding issue of allotments and garden centres.  More than that I have more pretty pictures of flowers and plants to share.  Doing this blog actually forces me to take a look at the images I have captured and decide what is worth keeping and what requires a judicious trip to the trash.  Even those images considered "keepers" require at minimum, cropping and perhaps a little adjustment of light and shadow.  Unfortunately, if I really like an image, I can end up spending way to much time in photoshop just messing around with different treatments.  Generally speaking (for the purists among you) the pictures I have been sharing have not been too extensively "doctored".  

Back to England and their overwhelming preoccupation with growing things.  I imagine I have already touched on the question of allotments, which are really nothing more than community gardens with a long history.  Back even to Saxon times there has been a history of land being held in common for the production of food stuffs.  At various times over this 1000 year period the common land has been confiscated or seized and incorporated into the holdings of nobles, the crown or even the church.  The very first mention of an allotment is in Elizabethan England when an allotment of land was attached to tenant cottages for the growing of food and keeping of animals.  If you weren't a "tenant" guess you had a problem since common land for the use of the poor was increasingly being enclosed.  

Peek a boo pumpkin

Life went on, the ability to keep your own plot rose and fell as the the towns became larger and the agrarian lifestyle gave way to the Industrial Revolution.  In 1887, the Victorians, who were noteworthy for their interest in doing something to change the conditions of the poor city dwellers, albeit not generally very successfully, enacted the Cottage Gardens and Compensation for Crops Act.  The intent was to compel the local authorities to provide allotments for the production of food it there was a demand for them .  Naturally enough this was not terribly successful,. What would  you rather see, a rag tag lot of poor folk struggling to grow a garden or a new tastefully designed building.  Perhaps this was among the first acts of NIMBYism (Not In My Back Yard).  And let's be honest, were they more interested in providing land to grow crops or was it the Victorian perspective that idle hands are the devils workshop.  If you are busy tending turnips and brussel sprouts perhaps you would be saved from the evils of drink, while providing healthful and nourishing food for your family.

During both the First and Second World Wars the British coast was blockaded and food shortages were the norm.  Rationing, which lasted until 1954 (ask Mick, he though a banana or an orange was something truly exotic) was a real and ongoing condition.  The Victory Garden whether it was on your land or a communal allotment supplied significant food allowing the farmers to be a part of the war effort.   And so it is, the allotment exists still in the year 2012.  

Wheelbarrow in the garden

Groby, which probably has no more than 5000 people, has two sets of allotments which must encompass 10 square blocks in total, perhaps even more.  Allotments are so popular there are waiting lists to get a space, but once you get it, it is yours pretty much until you choose to give it up.  People put up structures for storing garden implements and as a means to capture water in there water butts (see left) for gardening purposes.  I presume there is a permanent standpipe for water but to be honest I'm not sure and in at least one instance I have seen someone using a watering can to water their plants.    The allocation is not a paltry little square of land but a fairly substantial plot of probably 10 to 15 feet wide by 40 or 50 feet long.

What do they grow, you would be amazed.  Roger, with whom we spoke fairly regularly, had potatoes, onions, leeks, greens, scarlet runner beans, strawberries, brussel sprouts, rhubarb, cabbage (multiple kinds) and lord only knows what else.  One of the corners where the path went through the gardens  had an

Poppy bud

 enormous plot of gooseberries, a true English delicacy.  Mick always refers to them as hairy grapes, I on the other hand refer to them as yuck.  There were a couple of old apple trees which had a bumper crop of apples, there were rows and rows of raspberries, all well beyond my reach over the fence and blackberries grew on the hedges.  The two most common crops had to be potatoes and runner beans. Lots of people interspersed flowers with their veggies,  Generally speaking the gardens were well tended and prolific, and if you look, no matter where you are, outside of the major cities, you will find allotments.  

Looks like an artichoke(?)

Over here we have the County Fair, or better still the State Fair as a place to show off your hard work and gardening/crafting/cooking expertise.  In Groby they have the Harvest Festival sponsored by the local church.  Looks pretty much the same, bouquets of roses and dahlias, plates of tomatoes (grown in the greenhouse of course), examples of needlepoint, loaves of banana bread, you get the picture.  But here's the twist, It all gets capped off with a community dinner . . . To be honest, it has been several years since I have had the pleasure of attending one of these events but I imagine little has changed.    The church hall is festooned with crepe paper and round tables seating eight people fill the space.  Butcher paper covers the table and there is a bouquet of flowers in a plastic tumbler  in the centre.  An odd assortment of cutlery, a plastic water glass, heavy white pottery plates and tissue paper thin serviettes (napkins) complete the place setting.  The crowd files in and I am probably the youngest person there apart from Mick.  You odd get snatches of conversation, "ooh lovey, did you see Violet's blue ribbon floral arrangement" . . .  "Beryl really did well with her lemon curd"  . . .  "why didn't Charles enter the knot tying competition" and of course the ongoing litany of who has what disease, or has had what procedure.  Just generally way more than you could ever wish to know about your neighbours health.  God save me from being one of the old people who dwells on there illnesses and inadequacies, life has to be oh so much more exciting that the latest advances in bypass surgery.  

Hostas perhaps

Enough now of gardens and gardening, what about those garden centres.  You need some mulch or compost or a few new landscape plants, a quick trip to Home Depot or your local big box should take care of things.  If you are really looking for a specimen plant or something a little out of the ordinary you might even make the trip to your local nursery.  In an around Groby I can't think of a single shop, big box or small local, that sells anything gardening.  You MUST go to the Garden Centre.  Actually, I guess I do exaggerate a little, there were a couple of small nurseries, probably the size a the garden section in your average Home Depot in the area.  But if you really needed a gardening trip you made the pilgrimage to one of the Garden Centres.  

The one with which I am most familiar was on the way to Market Bosworth, several miles from nowhere and down a country lane.  The indoor portion was the size of a Home Depot store.  Over and above the indoor there were rows and rows of greenhouses, an enormous outdoor section under a mesh like cover, (too keep the sun out?) and a whole big display of garden sheds. 

Pretty Pink Flower

The garden sheds were totally fascinating.  I am accustomed to those brown Rubbermaid plastic boxes  with doors that look a bit like your Mother's Tupperware on super steroids.  We even own metal 4x6 box with a corrugated roof and sliding door down in Redwood City for storing tools and plant pots.  But my oh my something so plebeian as a Rubbermaid box will never do.  I reckon some of the ones I saw on display were big enough to live in.  Not only were they sizable but they were "architectural".  Windows and doors, dormers and flower boxes, porches for sitting, attached boot scrapers for your muddy boots, built in cabinets and hooks for hanging your wet weather gear, special doodads for hanging your various tools; it was all there.  

Trellis and Flowers

Moving indoors . . . there was a whole "room" with gardening gloves.  Did you realise there are special gauntlets for pruning roses?  Need to grub around in the mud, there was a nice selection of totally waterproof, yet flexible gloves that looked a little like what you might put on when washing dishes.  Need something more durable, how about a nice pair of leather work gloves, is style your thing  then try "an uncommon blend of elegance and practicality . . . soft brown suede with colourful cuffs".  

This place was a shopping centre all by itself.  Plant pots, compost, gardening clothes . . .  you must have a sun hat ( to go with your assorted gardening gloves).  God forbid you tie up the four corners of your hankie a la Monty Python.  There was rope and twine and scissor and tools, rubber boots stylin' and not so stylin', potted plants, bare root plants, seeds and tubers, plants and liners and paraphernalia for water gardens  and, and, and, it just goes on and on.  Now, just in case you become a little over awed and/or exhausted with your shopping experience you may need to take a tea break.  Wonder of wonders, what was right there on the premises but a rather sizable cafeteria offering everything from tea and scones to hot cooked midday meals.  

Carolyn's Beans

Never say die, there was more still.  Apart from the a mundane assortment of lawn mowers, there were riding mowers, rototillers and sundry other motorised gardening apparatus   I really kinda expected to see a John Deere tractor.  You also mustn't forget the outdoor furniture store.  It would give a small indoor furniture store a run for it's money.  Aside from the typical tables and chairs, swings and loungers there was an amazing display of BBQs and BBQ equipment.  When we lived in Birmingham a BBQ was unheard of, in fact I don't suppose the English would have considered cooking outdoors as something desirable.  Even in to the 90's when London friends, who had previously lived in the states, built a brick BBQ in their yard they were the talk of the neighbourhood.  Now you can find Weber kettles, gas grills, small portable grills for picnicking, and an assortment of outdoor kitchens.  Perhaps this climate change thing is for real, because its seems that the Brits have taken to outdoor entertaining in a big way.  

 A small sweet shop where I was able to purchase Humbugs and a kitchen supply store completed the selection.  

So here it is ladies and gentlemen.  I cannot be bothered to proof this any further so you get it bad punctuation and all.  Did allow spell check to have a go and got all my American spelling corrected . . . motorized with an "s"?  You may have to wait for another edition, I believe I have run out of things English to share, but there is always Ashland.  Thanks for coming along for the ride and I hope to hear from all of you soon.   It would be nice to  know who has been reading my blog, I can tell how many hits I get but not from whence they come.  So if you think of it drop me a line (gaylef8@gmail.com) and let me know you have been following my tales of all things English.  

Daisy

Sunflower

Coos aka Cows

ttfn (ta ta for now) and all my love     Gayle