Our day up in Seattle started out by watching the fishmongers at the Pikes Place Market. They have a reputation for exceptionally good customer service. In fact, a motivational film was made using their business philosophy - "Catch". I remember watching this film when I was working. It showed the most joyous, committed guys, just having fun. Their slogan: Stop floundering! Get committed in your life and work! We stood and watched them sell, package and pack the fish, shouting out to one another while throwing and catching the salmon. 
Crowds packed this area, taking pictures and visiting with the fishmongers, all of whom are listed on the company's website. You can actually learn more about all of them. Keith Bish, called "the Bear", greeted everyone. Although he is dressed in fishing gear, I have a hunch he is a successful businessman/entertainer who probably knows just how to 'steal the show'.... "At the World Famous Pike Place Fish Market, we know that it’s possible for each of us as human beings to impact the way other people experience life. Through our work, we’re out to improve the quality of life for everyone. We are working inside the possibility of world peace and prosperity for all people. This is our commitment - that’s who we are - it’s what we do." 
The fresh fruits and vegetables were especially attractive, with colors that seemed out of this world. 
Imagine, raspberries, grapes, mangos and cherries this time of year. All the color was an antidote for the greys of winter! People were chatting, laughing and smiling. The crowds were wonderful - maybe just what a person needs to see to get through the bleak haze of winter!
We strolled through many of the isles of vegetables and flowers, and I bought a huge bouquet of dried flowers which I put in my guestroom upstairs.
We walked down this ramp to reach an old cobbled alleyway near the Pike Place Market on Saturday.
This is an area of Seattle that gets over 7 million visitors every year. Situated on a hill overlooking Elliot Bay, it is the most famous part of Seattle's commercial district.
It was a tad spooky as my eyes adjusted to the low light of the alley. Several men walked uphill to the market, bent over, carefully considering each step as they passed by. I'm fascinated by alleyways, by the lack of pretense, by the unexpected. You'll see pidgeons here, pecking at crumbs, and homeless men rumage through garbage cans.
This wall is a depository, for chewing gum. Over the years, passersby have covered the walls with chewing gum, pressed into the surface of the bricks and mortar.
Looking closer, I noticed some artists chewed double wads, to create words strung out into letters, holding embelishments, like feathers, coins, shells and colorful stones. 
Gum became mortar, holding images of starfish, hearts, and initials. Anything, to say "I've been here. I've left something of myself behind."
This rousing gospel group clapped their hands and sang in harmony, causing crowds to gather around the Starbucks at the Pike Place Market. It was a gorgeous, sunny aftaernoon, just perfect for a day in the city. Urban professionals joined the tourists frequenting the little eateries at the Market, escaping high-rise offices for a little fresh air, lunch, and exceptionally good entertainment.
Over 100 street performers earn a living working the streets around Pikes Place Market. They pay $15.00 for a permit that allows a performer to remain in one of 13 designated spots for one hour. At some point, the musicians move to a different location, rotating their areas. They seem to really enjoy playing to the crowds, sharing their music. As we visited many of the little outdoor markets, the music followed, lending a delightful ambience to our afternoon. It felt like a celebration, with fiddle players, accordian players, ball jugglers and guitarists all contributing.
We loaded up the canoe for an early morning paddle near Longbranch, on the Key Peninsula. It couldn't have been more tranquil, with the fog lifting up off the water and slowly vanishing. It was 32 degrees, and frost lined all the trees and shrubs along the roadway to our put-in place here. 
The marinas were all closed. Not a soul around. Just a stunningly beautiful Sunday morning on Puget Sound.
We paddled along, slowly pulling the canoe through beautiful, clear water. 
We rounded this gravel- bank and came across a large flock of seagulls. When we approach- ed, about 70 of them flew up into the air, then landed again, hunkering quietly down.
We were the only ones out on the water. As the fog burned off and it got a little warmer a few watercraft powered along out far in the channel between us and Anderson Island. The ripples from the boats caused our canoe to ride the swells, dipping and splashing.
There were only a few houses along the shoreline. I especial- ly liked this one.
We paddled for about three hours, beaching the canoe several times to check out the driftwood on the shoreline. I found some pretty rocks to add to my collection, and discovered a huge piece of styrofoam ( 3 feet by 7 feet) that had washed up onto the beach. I wanted to see how it floated, so I layed down on it, and pushed myself out into the water a few feet. It drifted in the current, bobbing up and down. I closed my eyes, and stretched out. Within a minute the current brought me back to the shoreline, and I just layed there rocking back and forth, sliding into the rocks. What generous-spirited lulabyes I could have composed, right then and there, had I put my mind to it!
Our son Rue and his wife Annie are expecting a baby! This will be my second grandchild, an addition to Daisy who is now ten. I've waited ten years for this happy, blessed news. And, while Annie may be in the throes of fatigue due to her pregnancy, I'm reminiscing .... pulling out old baby clothes.
These were given to me by my aunt, who said they were worn by her and my mother. All of them handmade with the most tender little stitches.
They are almost 90 years old. The fabric is so thin it is almost transparent. They have the tiniest buttons and snaps, unlike anything I've seen today. I cannot imagine a baby holding still long enough for the parent to push the button through the tiny hole!
This satin dress must have been special, as all of the decorative lace and stitching were meticulous. I recall when my babies were born, I had sewn little gowns for all of them, for those first few months. I also made quilts, and later I sewed their coveralls out of durable fabric, with heavy snaps for the shoulderstraps and the legs. It was a way of taking care of my child while I waited for the birth. I also enjoyed going to the fabric store, paging through pattern-books, and selecting colors and patterns that I couldn't find in the stores. I always felt that anything hand-done just looked better than storebought. All of my children received little hand crocheted sweaters and caps when they were born, lovingly made by George's mother. As the kids grew, they'd get a new sweater from Grandma Dannells every year. She also knitted afghans for them. It kept her busy throughout the year, planning each blanket, sweater, and cap. She learned that I liked sweaters to extend way below the waistline, down the hips, to keep their bottoms warm. It may have looked funny, but in Montana that was what was needed.I haven't used my sewing machine in several years. I hope to get it cleaned, so that I can work on a small quilt, and put together a few little garments for Annie and Rue's new baby. It is a delightful way to stay busy and to daydream, imagining the delight Annie and Rue will feel when they bring their new baby home.
This is the sand-based wall paint that I used on the main bathroom downstairs. It provides a wonderful texture, but mostly covers up a lot of flaws. I used it only on the walls, not the ceiling.
I'm still swamped with repairs and cleaning. This week I'll start to sew a bedskirt for our bed, to hide those awlful boxsprings and rollers. Macy's wanted $200.00 for bedskirts, so I went to JoAnn's Fabrics, and got a durable forest green fabric that I will ruffle and attach....for about $14.00. Should take most of a day to put it together. The only problem with bedskirts, you can stub your toe on those rollers if you don't see them. I have one of them wrapped....it took 3 monthes to heal a broken toe.
This is Mordrid, waiting it out on a snowy winter afternoon in our guest room. He is the most optimistic of our two cats, and the most aggressively affectionate. 
Our little feline, Pandora, is going on 10 years now. She can't seem to tolerate the cold weather and snow very long, and will scratch at the front windows to be let in. Then, she'll make a bee-line for this toasty spot over the livingroom heat-register.
When I opened my eyes this morning, the room was whiter and brighter, and I knew the snow had come. Weather advisories predicted the storm. I went out on my porch, took a deep breath, and greeted the morning. The sun was just coming out.
While holding my coffee, I watched George walk to his car. Things change around here when 3 inches of snow falls. Schools are closed, everyone drives slower. The stillness and quiet are broken by the calls of chicadees in the bushes. When the sun comes up, I'll be making some footprints of my own.
There is just a hint of sunshine and freshness here at the entrance to Sunrise Beach. We drove over on Sunday, just to catch a breath of invigorating air.
We walked in the rain, down to a little sheltered area on the beach, where the waves were pounding white foam onto the sand. This is a popular scuba-diving and snorkeling area, where there is a creviced wall about 30 to 60 feet deep and 100 feet long.Wolf Eels and octopus inhabit the area. The current here can be hazardous, and awhile back someone perished while scuba-diving. Divers have to know the currents and the tides to explore safely.The area all around Gig Harbor is still suffering the ravages of winter storms. Trees littered the edges of the roads, deadfall sprawled in the forests, and nothing seemed welcoming in the pounding rain.
The sky was deeply overcast, by the time we got to Crescent Lake. Rain pelted the water like a barrage of bullets or buckshot. A hypodermic syringe bobbed in the deitris, and someone had thrown garbage into the brush. A few scant leaves wobbled high on tree branches. We stayed only briefly, taking in the stillness across the lake, the pelting rain.
Ruhiyyih said, "Next time, prick the skin with a fork, before you bake them." It lets the air out.I've been swamped with cleaning and home-repair projects, with about 8 men coming and going. Major repairs to the insulation under the house, the furnace and vents, and the men's bathroom. Seems like January is a good time to tackle this, as once the weather warms up, nobody wants to be inside doing cleaning and repairs. It will be time to get out the garden tools....or, go camping.
We heard the sounds of mallards. They swam right through this, as if they were finger-painting.
..... I would love to do that!
Amidst all the celebratory poinsettias and amyrillis at the Seymour Conservatory, we found a host of orchids. A few are included here....
