Caramel-Pecan Rolls

I made these yesterday for the boys...takes about three hours to make, rising and all. I didn't feel bad, hiding one in my lunchbox.

Working Men

My boys dug out an old tree stump out back, from a plum tree yesterday.

For them it was just play. Saws, axes, rope, leather gloves - all a man's gear.

They want to be men. But, I'll have to feed them more steak and mashed potatoes to get them certified.

I see too many ribs showing!

My Kids - Thanksgiving 2004

These are my children: Laurel (37), Ruh (27), Ruhiyyih (25), Taraz (24), and Rahmat (22).

Laurel is a mental health counselor in private practice; Ruh works in management at Fred Meyer; Ruhiyyih is in China, supervising a team of teachers at a private school; Taraz and Rahmat have just finished the 'In Memory Project', a service project working with Habitat for Humanity. These two youngest are re-visiting the nest.

All my kids look like they have different fathers, but, that is not the case! We just have a very rich gene pool that pops out 'one of a kind'.

And, yes, the hair is real, although experimental!

All my kids enjoy getting together, cause a year ago they were all scattered. Laurel and her husband were visiting his family in Turkey, Ruhiyyih was teaching in China, Taraz was in Michigan and South Carolina, and Rahmat was in Maine. Only Ruh was here, with his wife and young daughter, Daisy.

And George and I, well, we were enjoying an empty nest. I had been caring for children for 37 years, and had one year off. During the last 5 years, I spent 4 of them helping to care for Daisy.

So, you've seen George and I...this is the rest of us!

My Sons Curls

Taraz and Rahmat are on a Youth Service Project, for several weeks. They have been working with Habitat for Humanity, building houses.

Both of them love creative work. This is one of Taraz's self-portraits. Much of his work is mono-chromatic. He loves the simplicity.

Waiting Out the Storm

When sudden wind thrashes your canoe, it's time to wait out the storm or portage. This day, it was easy - pack a lunch and enjoy a little sunshine on the beach.

When we first started canoeing, we tipped over once! It was in a drainage creek, in the middle of winter. George was trying to turn the canoe to reverse our direction so we could head back into Puget Sound. Fortunately, it was a shallow creek, and we were wearing rubber boots and wool socks. We got our feet just a little bit wet, and learned not to attempt turns in small, fast-flowing water!

I rarely canoe in cold, winter weather anymore. We've done it, and it is beautiful, especially if the snow is falling, and wild snow geese are just a hundred feet away. The isolation is a little spooky, but, if you want adventure you overcome your fears and head out. We've seen a lot of deer, elk, coyotes, beaver and muskrat, and all sorts of wild migrating birds. Thats possible because of the remote locations and wildlife refuges that are good canoeing locations. Oregon, Montana, Washington and Idaho have excellent locations for exploring in a canoe.

Winter factors in more danger because of capsizing. The wind in Puget Sound can be sudden and unpredictable. I've done research on hypothermia, and it can kill quick. It's not that you just get so cold that you die. The cold blood in your veins circulates up to your heart and causes a heart attack.

So, remember, never rub or massage cold legs or arms, or start walking to warm up. It will circulate cold blood up to your heart. That'll kill you quicker than anything. Sit down, build a fire, take off all your wet clothes, wrap up in a warm blanket, and remain still. Let someone else go for help. Always carry a thermos of hot water to drink.

These measures keep you safe. Always take time to plan for emergencies...and, if you have children, they are counting on you to know what to do.

The Ole Dodge Caravan

We are back from vacation, and Dick will head back to California. I'll have to credit our ole Dodge Caravan for holding up better than I did! We got over to the Pacific Ocean, Mt. Rainier, Vashon Island, and clear over to backroads in central Washington. The guys did a rough paddle yesterday, and I stayed home to do laundry, floors, dishes, and yard.

I don't do rough paddles. I'll portage along the shore, first. And, there is my problem - my neck isn't holding up very well anymore. Arthritis, I think. Gettin' too old to haul an 80 pound canoe for a mile while the wind is having a tantrum.

Bonita and George- Vaughn Inlet -7-13-05

Brother Dick took this of us the day he arrived. He wasted no time getting on the water. We've done 4 paddles in the last 3 days, all with very different water conditions, weather and light.

I film. Dick and George paddle.

On our way up to Mt. Rainier, about 25 Ferraris and Lambourghinis, from a car show, drove ahead of us, each one passing ole George's Dodge Caravan. He pulled over, to let all of them roar past. They sure make a statement!!

But we followed them up, like The Little Engine That Could.

George and Dick got to talking about exceleration speeds. I guess these fast cars are known for that. We were figuring just how fast they could go, from 0 to 60 m.p.h., in what space of time.

George was calculating. Dick was figuring.

I'm not too keen on figures, but I told them I have a friend at work who goes from 0 to 234. . . just by stepping on the bathroom scale!

Give Me Some Country

I've got to pack up the camping gear, we're headin' out again for a few days canoeing. It's either Washington or Oregon, whichever is cooler...

No Time For Bugs

Ruhiyyih flew to Japan where she stayed the night, then flew on to China. We got 3 e-mail from her, with titles, but none of the content was printed. Was this just technology afoul, or China policy ? I was a little concerned, then she called. 10:30 p.m. her time, about 6:30 a.m. our time. I was just having morning coffee, she was just preparing for bed.

She no sooner got on the phone, than I wondered WHO was this! Her voice was just a raw squeek! What in the WORLD has happened!

Between a few tears, she said she was ill, with a very red throat. She had given her presentations to the administrative personel and the teachers, but it left her exhausted, and filled with miss-givings. The heat was 100 degrees and rising! She left 74 degree temps here. Probably her body just hasn't had time to adjust.

She was pretty discouraged, and really needed a doctor. There is none out there at the school. She would have to be driven into Beijing, and that would be inconvenient.

Well, being her mom, I said just to take it easy, "They won't fire you during the next three weeks, just muddle through." The administrators will appreciate anything she can do

Meantime, I sure hope she drinks lots of water.

Gravestones and Roosevelt Elk

We took in the Tall Ships Festival, but just from the bluffs overlooking Commencement Bay - there were about two million people at the 4th of July Celebration on Ruston Way and at the docking sites for the big ships. We really didn't want to be part of the holiday crowd, after all.

Instead, we packed up the canoe and went exploring. We paddled up the South Fork of the Palix River over by Willapa Bay. It was a very peaceful glide, beautiful weather. I film our glides, but wouldn't you know it, when a herd of Roosevelt Elk thundered by, my camera was off! We startled them, and they just crashed along the shoreline, bolting into the woods.

We tramped through the old pioneer cemetery at Bay City. It was a jumble of weeds, old grass, and sinking gravestones. Some of the stones just said, 'Infant girl". One had scripture from the Bible. A husband and wife and children shared a plot, with a little fence around it. Old roses hung down to the ground, in a tangle onto the ground. There must have been influenza, because so many of the deaths were in 1889. I filmed the little grave-markers, some with birds and scrolls, some so worn that the names have faded.

The cemetery is on a hillside, overlooking a little harbor, dotted with old sheds and boats. An abandoned oyster processing shed is in the shallows. Just a little sleepy town now, with a lot of history on the hillside.

Totem Lodge at Monarch

When I was a kid, we spent our summers in a cabin in the Belt Mountains near the town of Monarch. All the wild country was national forest preserve land, and someone built this cabin long-long ago, with a 99 year lease on the land. It was a beautifully built old cabin, with an outhouse out back, and more sleeping quarters out in a bunkhouse.

Potbellied stoves kept the cabin and bunkhouse warm, and that meant a fire going in the morning until about July. We slept in brass beds, and used old down comforters. The sound of Belt Creek was right outside our window. It was mostly glacier-melt, down off the mountains, but during the day we swam in it, in a wonderful swimming hole under a bridge. We had a huge dog, a St. Bernard, and he loved cooling down in that creek.

Totem Lodge was only a summertime cabin. The snow was so high in winter, you'd not be able to live there, and you'd never be able to stay warm. We'd have breakfast, and that would be the last Mother would see of us until we got hungry! We'd be exploring the woods, making forts, hiking the boulders behind the cabin. We became good climbers, good swimmers.

A nearby gravel road led up to Camp Rotary, and dotted along the road were family cabins, almost always filled with other 'summertimers'. We knew them all, and had an endless supply of friends. In the evening, after dinner, we kids would walk along the road, and visit every family. Of course, we'd spent most of the day with everyone's kids at the swimming hole, so sometimes we stayed for dinner. Those days, you'd knock on a door and walk in, you were so welcome.

Every 4th of July we got together with Bobby and Kathy Pearson, their's was the second cabin from us. Their mom went to school with my mom, so those ladies would visit. Someone always had extra hot dogs and potato salad, and they'd just bring the works down to the bridge, over the swimming hole. We kids had a game called 'walking the rocks' where you'd hop from one rock to the next to see how far you could go out in the creek. We could play in that creek all day, pulling rocks out of the sand to see what was underneath. Skeletons, little insect skeletons were under them. And we layered rocks to make a dam - imagine changing the route of water! We felt pretty proud of ourselves.

Another frend brought her goat and pet deer to the swimming hole, to join all of us and our big St. Bernard. That was the most unusual sight, what a conglomeration. People driving up the road to Camp Rotary would stop, check out the animals, and figure 'Yes, there really is a deer there playing in the water with those kids!'

Come nightfall, families would share their sparklers, and we kids had a ball. You know, in those mountains, I don't remember anyone setting off loud fireworks. It was a quiet place, and it would have disturbed the peace. It was like we all knew what a special place we had.

Besides, in those mountains, an echo was an ECHO, was an ECHO, was an ECHO!!!