Posts Tagged ‘cabin’

Thanksgiving merriment


2010
11.27

Art Every Day Month continues even though I would rather be a slug today and recover from eating too much.  Not piggy-too-much, but more than usual.  I could make stuffing during the year and then not eat so much on Thanksgiving, but.  Here’s a little photo journal through parts of our Thanksgiving weekend.  Wednesday has been covered already -the adventure we don’t want to repeat. Yesterday the family arrived – at least part.  Kim and fam were in Colorado with Karen and fam, but between Jen, Matt and kids, and Anne, Kent, Cristina and Benjamin, there were 11 of us at Kamala Kabin – our place in Alta Sierra.  They all had a long trudge through the snow also.  This year is wicked so far – how early is this snow? The Mountain Parade had to be canceled.  Not usually this cold and snowy this soon.  We’ll see if that augers for a cold winter.

First, though, we had some celebrating to do!

Confession Time

This year’s dinner was provided largely by Trader Joe’s.  I bought their stuffed turkey breasts,  gravy, fresh garlic mashed potatoes, yams with pecans and other goodies.  I bought the huge bag of rolls from Costco because if we don’t have those, my grandkids will never show up again.  Dinner was delicious – as good as I would have made, or better even.  And we maintained our tradition of having party crackers and wearing our crowns during dinner.

We’ve been wearing crowns for as long as I can remember – and at least since Sarah was in a high chair (she’s now 15 1/2).

Although the kids have graduated to the “adult” table, we had to reinstate the “kids” table at the cabin.

We had many spirited games of nerts – or is it nertz – and I lost big.  I figured if I couldn’t win, why not lose with flair?  I also went down spectacularly in a game I cannot remember the name of but that’s no matter because I’ve christened it “The Pretty Game.”

Some of the men relaxed.

I insisted we have a group shot – no matter how good or bad anyone thought they looked, didn’t matter.  We were taking a picture.  I did not lug that tripod through the snow for nothing.  Plus, I had to amaze everyone with my remote.  Sarah took control of that and took so many pictures that we were laughing raucously.

We were a small but happy group and really did enjoy our Thanksgiving in the mountains.  Tomorrow I’ll post the “outdoor” part of the weekend – sledding and skiing.  Until them, I’m going to will away the effects of the stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, pumpkin pie and all the rest.

A Thanksgiving adventure: Over the river and through ghostly woods (don’t try this at home)


2010
11.25

Well, I don’t need another experience like yesterday’s.  Oh, no no no no no.  Mark and I headed up the hill to our cabin in Alta Sierra for Thanksgiving.  Today we have family coming but we needed a head start.  We got halfway up the hill to Glennville and stopped at Hassano’s to eat.  Doesn’t look like much but the food is top notch.  The first thing we noticed was it was COLD.  A different kind of cold than we’ve felt there before – it’s somewhere around 3,500 feet.  The waitress told us snowflakes had just been floating down.

Then – up to the cabin at 6,200 feet.  We immediately encountered the sign that said chains required in 10 miles.  And then we were in ghostly woods.

We were not in fog.  Oh no, not the thick tule fog we get in Bakersfield.  We were in clouds and it felt so still and quiet, so untouchable and even mystical.

I didn’t ask Mark to stop for photos but once or twice since it was slow-going, and even though we were the only car on the road, it was snowy and slick.

Finally, we stopped at a pull-off by Slick Rock Road One for the…you guessed it, chains.

As you read on to the meat of the adventure, keep in mind this lovely tire with chain (almost) perfectly applied.  And while Mark did this, I scoped out the surroundings.  I found a perfect tree.  Would that we could take it, snow and all, for a Christmas tree.

I noticed how much snow there had been by what had been plowed to the side.

I looked over at Slick Rock One cabin and admired the pattern on the roof.

After the snowfall, the trees gave up more of their cover, heading towards naked for winter.  But across the street, other trees were still putting up a fight, holding on to those fall leaves.

My eyes landed on leaves outlined by ice, which may be the most magical image of all.  Ice storms look like fairy castles but they can be deadly.

Back across the street, the clouds were closing in.

The road had gathered its cloak closer, as if to shut out the cars.  Maybe we should have listened.

The real adventure begins

None of this was of any consequence when compared to the real adventure.  We headed down Old State Road, which had been plowed.  Caltrans had done a good job on Highway 155.  But the road to our house was not plowed.  And I wish I had pictures to show you, but you’ll have to take my word because I was too busy shoveling snow to take photos.

Should we go up our road?  We’d driven through snow like that before – we had snow tires, 4-wheel drive and chains.  Going up the S-curve.  Made the first turn.  Didn’t make the second turn- ended up stuck.  Whoa.  What to do?  Mark maneuvered any way he could – no dice. Mark noticed that one of the tires was without chain.  We found it in the snow, mangled.  I started shoveling snow out from behind the tires – but what was that I heard? A sound much better than eight tiny reindeer.  I heard a snow plow.  Off I went to find it and luckily I had my STABILicers on – shoes with metal cleats that fit over the shoes I was wearing.  I’m not hired by STABILicers to plug these ice shoes, but they are invaluable.  We rented some in Sequoia National Park once, and when we bought our cabin I bought about 10 pair in different sizes for guests.  Better than broken bones on slippery ice.

Rescued – almost

Ah – there was Tom, my savior, clearing out the parking lot of the Greenhorn Grill.   What could he do? He could plow out behind our car and maybe we could back down the hill.  He hadn’t been able to plow there yet because too many cars had been stuck!  Tom said the snow was a different consistency than usual – very heavy and wet with ice underneath.  It had snowed and rained and I guess there was too much moisture to push on through to the other side.

Now what?

Road behind us plowed and still we couldn’t move.  I started shoveling again when two guys on snowboards zoomed by and stopped.  Hey, could you help us?  Three more snowboarders arrived.  They were young, strong, everything we could want.  So they guided Mark in how to turn the wheels since we were quite close to the edge with a nice drop off – nothing that would injure us, but it sure would injure the car to slide down there.  They all five pushed on the car to make it go the way we wanted.  And we were down.  We parked in someone else’s parking place.

Rescued, for real.

I had a brilliant idea.  We had all the stuff for Thanksgiving dinner and the car was full.  Have any of you broken a trail, uphill, through deep, soft snow?  Where you sink to your knees with each step? It is NOT fun and in no way an adventure.  I was already beat from running up and down hills to find the snowplow and then shoveling snow.  I kept thinking of all the people who die of heart attacks while shoveling snow and I am 64.  So is Mark.  How many trips would we have to make?  It was a long walk – this next photo is from the balcony of the cabin and you can’t even see where our car was!

BUT there were five young, strong guys there.  Could they help?  Yes, they carried everything, making several trips each.  I started up with my tripod, a light duffel and a snow shovel.  Pretty soon the path was littered with items as I discarded them one by one.  These guys were angels of mercy and we gave them money to have dinner at the Grill on us.  Phew.  And off they went on their snowboards, jumping over the very ditch we would have landed in.

In the house it was much warmer than outside – 48 degrees.  It was 24 outside.  But the heater would not stay on.  Not to worry, I knew just what to do because it had happened when I was at the cabin with my daughter Karen, and she figured it out.  So I gave Mark a bowl of steaming hot water and three towels and instructed him to find the pipe that went from the heater in the basement to the outdoors and thaw it. He was pretty darn impressed that Karen had figured this out – while several men stood around saying oh no, that couldn’t be it.  Why do men insist on thinking women can’t do stuff? Anyhow, three hours later we were at 65 inside which is actually quite toasty.

Visitors

We’d had visitors since our last weekend up.

Raccoons.

We made it to grandmother’s (and grandfather’s) house

We’d gone over the river and through the woods, but you can forget about the horse knowing the way to carry the sleigh through the freshly fallen snow.  Forget about ho-ho-hos and jingle bells.  Down on the driveway we heard the most wonderful sound of all, and it wasn’t Rudolph.

Happy thanksgiving, everyone.  We have so much to be grateful for, including the fact that we have a cabin in the woods, have family to share with us, have heat in the house, doors that lock, and cupboards full of food.  In other words, we have shelter, food, security, family, friends – so much more than most people in the world have.  With that knowledge always in the front of my mind, I find it impossible to seriously complain about anything anymore.

And – with blogs, the internet, Creative Every Day, twitter and Facebook, we have an extended family the world over.  Even though I suffer technology overload sometimes, I’m grateful for it, nonetheless.


Striking a Chord; Renting Kamala, and a Good Start to the Day


2010
08.29

Yesterday’s blog post about time sure struck a chord for many of you.  Comments on the blog and facebook show a heightened sense of how fast time moves amongst many of us.  Of course, it was many of us of a certain age.  Young people think time goes ever so slowly.  Will summer ever come? How many days until we go to Disneyland? The month of December especially seemed to drag.  Young people are waiting for time to pass quickly; we are waiting for time to slow down.

One of my favorite comments lately is don’t wish time away.  And I always come back to the constant, so well stated by Annie Dillard, which I quoted yesterday.  But I like it so much I’m quoting it again today : “Everyone envied her the time she had, not noticing that they had equal time.”  Of course, that implies choices in using time.  And we all do have the same amount of time.  It just goes faster for some of us.  Perhaps Einstein has a theory for that.  I would not know.

This is what time feels like to me now.

Exploding Clock by Salvador Dali

Yesterday’s post struck a chord with me, too.  It got me back on track.  Yesterday I forced myself; today I feel like writing.  I did make a promise to myself that I would blog or keep a journal until the end of this year, which would make two years.  I haven’t been keeping the journal because it became redundant.  I’m going to keep my promise to myself and blog away at least until December.  It’s my own personal record for the world to see.  To me, that’s one of the most contradictory aspects of blogging – what you might not say face-to-face to a friend, you will gladly say to the entire world.

Just a couple of things I wanted to mention so this is a real mish-mash.

First, regular readers are so used to reading about me being at our cabin.  Slowly, after two years, it dawned on us that we’d be smart to rent the cabin out when we weren’t here.  It would be lovely to be able to pay the mortgage.  So I set out to put the plan into motion.  I had no idea of the mounds of detail that awaited me.

There is a co-op rental site in Alta Sierra which about eight cabins have joined.  The site is set up to be fully automated, but who knew that the endless detail just to get our information in would go on for days.  And weeks.  Getting a merchant account set up so we could accept credit cards.  Now this is interesting.

I applied for the merchant account in my name only, because Mark wants this to be my project.  The company called and said I had insufficient credit, whatever that means.  Having a credit score of 799 and credit cards with balances paid in full every month wasn’t sufficient credit?  They wanted more info.  We faxed some bank statements and tax returns.  Not good enough.  Why didn’t we change the application to Mark’s name?  We did, gave them no new information, and it was approved.

What I am supposed to infer from that?  Same info (except Mark’s name, driver’s license number and social), both names on taxes and accounts, and Mark’s credit score is 799 also.  I infer that gender discrimination was in play.  Anyway it sure made it difficult to complete the first rental, which I finally did on paypal.

I listed on VRBO as well as the co-op site.  Detail!  By the way, you can see the sites here:  The  Kern River Co-op site, and the VRBO listing.  You will notice something – we are spelling the word “cabin” with a “K”.  I cannot believe I am doing that.  When I see signs such as Koffee Kafe I shudder.  But Roy (the co-op developer and owner) is a computer programmer, and he said that will maximize exposure – that it has to be different or catchy, and it has to appear high on the web rankings when you do a search.  I can now write Kabin without coming apart.  Barely.  Alta Sierra Kamala Kabin it is.

I think the sites look good – but I need to do several more.  This is the photo we are using for the primary shot of the cabin.

Alta Sierra Kamala Kabin

Lastly, let’s strike a chord musically.  I’ve written about taking three of my grandkids, my daughter, and friend Michael Purcell to a Black-Eyed Peas concert. I’d been using “I’ve Got a Feeling” as my anthem, my wake-up song start-the-day-right song.  I just substituted the word “day” for “night.”  Today Michael forwarded something I hadn’t seen yet from when the Peas slightly modified the song for Oprah’s 24th anniversary.  It has two of my favorite things: the song and flash mobs.  I’m going to try to embed it in this post, but since I’ve not been successful with that yet, I may end up with a link. Just in case

Someone’s in the cabin with Gramser and August’s theme of FIRE


2010
07.26

I told you my life is a song! Why does everything I think of match a lyric? Or a paraphrased lyric – “Someone’s in the cabin with Gramser, someone’s in the cabin I  know -o-o-o.”

But first, Creative Every Day’s August theme of FIRE is getting literal.  There is a forest fire in the town of Riverkern, moving towards Kernville.  I don’t think it will get near the cabin, but it is in the general vicinity.  So while we think about fire in all it’s manifestations, sometimes it is exactly that – fire.  On New Year’s Day I drove through Riverkern with two of the grandkids to enjoy the Kern River.

This is my granddaughter Ali and grandson Xavier standing looking into the Kern River just above Riverkern.  Of course I digitally manipulated it so it looks like they are shadow skiing.  You can see more pictures of the Kern River here.  The fire is really moving I guess, and jumped the Kern.  But let’s get back to who’s in the cabin with gramser.

Actually, 11 “someones” were in the cabin with Gramser.  All nine grandkids and two daughters.  Got home from Orlando on Friday instead of Thursday (the trip from Hell), stayed home on Saturday, and went to the cabin on Sunday to prep for the onslaught.  I say onslaught as if it were negative, but there is nothing I like more than being with all the family.

The Davies Three were visiting from Colorado (in November, they’ll be the Davies Four when Baby Boy Davies arrives).

They are sitting in the metal chair I refinished and painted (boy, that was its own adventure) waiting for blue jays.  Cooper is holding the cup that held the peanuts.  I told the kids they had to be still and quiet for the birds to come.  They had very carefully lined the entire balcony railing with peanuts!  The birds must have thought they were in peanut heaven.

I had a small slate of activities for this visit.  Not nearly as elaborate as last year, but we did tie dye again.  Actually, Sarah wanted to and she helped me pick out shirts.  We tried colored shirts instead of white this time.


Does anything strike you about this photo? The older you are, the more you will notice.  Cooper is sitting with her legs twisted like a pretzel, and Annabelle and Jackson are squatting.  When is the last time you comfortably sat like this?  I know, me either.

The shirts came out nicely.  Even if they hadn’t turned out well, they would have been good.  If you know what I mean.

Since one picture is never enough, we lined them up by height.

And to think, in November there will be another little one on the end.

Gramser took a walk with Things One and Two. (The shirts were a last-minute purchase at Universal Orlando.)  Cooper is carrying Crookshanks while Abbo has Fawkes.  Jackson did not bring Fluffy because he was currently not liking Fluffy and wanting Fawkes instead.  For some reason (silly me) I thought a boy who loved dinosaurs and crashing toy cars would enjoy having a three-headed dog.

A group played Catchphrase.

Sarah sat with the Davies Three.

You’ll notice Crookshanks in this photo.

We used big bubble wands.

The big girls painted tissue boxes.

Then they helped the little ones paint coat holders for their rooms.

We went down to Kernville and challenged the Killer Kern.

Seriously, it is called the Killer Kern by some.  Do you know Merle Haggard’s song about never swimming the Kern River again?  It is deadly – the waters run deep and there are all kinds of entanglements down there to catch and hold you.  Every year there are drownings and usually they are people from Los Angeles who came up for the day.  The signs tell people to stay out, etc. but no one believes them.  This is absolutely as far as I would let the kids walk out.  A few steps more and they would be in the current.  I told them ahead of time, “When I say stop, I mean it.”  They knew I was serious as a heart attack – no messing around here.

Annabelle, who is fearless, was more interested in picking up rocks this time.

Jackson made a tower of blocks and dared anyone to knock it over.  I don’t know what he was intending with his lizard – to balance it on the tower or destroy the tower?

It was a good cabin trip. Although I enjoy the cabin in solitude, there’s nothing like having someone in the cabin with gramser – especially when they are grandkids.

Finally. At last. Summer has come to the mountains. Bliss.


2010
06.23


Finally, at last.

Snow is beautiful.  It’s most beautiful when you have magically been deposited into the cabin with all your stuff, so you can look at and appreciate the stillness and beauty.  It’s not so fun when you have to trudge through the snow, knee-deep, ferrying stuff up the stairs because you can’t get your 4-wheel drive car through the sort-of plowed road.

Bliss

I remember that Creative Every Day Month’s thene for June is Bliss.  This is bliss – the forest in summer.  That is why I am ecstatic that summer has come to the mountains.  The best part is sitting on the balcony watching the blue jays, who ask for peanuts incessantly and I of course provide them. Once in a while I spot woodpeckers and yesterday saw a white-headed woodpecker for the second time up here.  The hummingbirds come to the feeder after trying to drink from our Chinese lanterns, and the nuthatches go up and down the trees looking for insects.

I was so excited I did an art journal collage page called Finally. At last. (click to make larger)

A walk in the woods

Went for a walk to see what was new out there.  Not much was new, so I had to do something to make the photos interesting.  I took out the color.

In the next photo, the electric and phone lines are crossed.  I used to think how ugly that was and why couldn’t it all be put underground.  Probably I thought that out of ignorance and because my parents were always so critical of anything not esthetically pleasing.  But now that we have a place in the mountains, the lines mean electricity, phones, internet, television.  Plus, I realize the difficulties of doing things up here.  Wires here are good. I like them.

I found an interesting tree- loved the shape.  What I didn’t expect was the background – it looks a little like snow in summer.

I passed a stump.  Then I went back and took three photos.  It’s a good example of point of view – everything depends upon your point of view.  The first looks like a stump, an obstacle to pass.

A few steps further, and a new perspective, it becomes a passage, a way through.

And yet a couple more steps, the same stump becomes a shelter.

The perspective of the passage narrows and you can just imagine taking refuge here.  If you were small.  I used to use examples like this when I was teaching point of view – I miss that part.  The teaching and the kids.  Don’t miss anything else about it.

Finally, I passed a little house that had so many patterns on it and a colorful barrel in front.  So of course, I took a picture.

When I got back to the cabin, I found Tiger and Lily doing what they do best.  (I brought the cats with me this time.)

Yep.  Sleeping in the sun.  For the cats, a blissful activity.

And – since the theme of Creative Every Day month is Bliss, I think you could call these photos bliss.  In fact, just the whole adventure of being here.  Bliss.


Homes have anniversaries too – the cabin is two


2010
05.30


As I sit here at the cabin waiting for paint to dry, I realize that Memorial Day weekend, two years ago, we moved in.  I think that has to be the strangest, funniest, and unusual move ever.

Background

My husband and I used to go for drives all the time – up Kern Canyon, to Gorman Post Road, Rancheria Road at dusk to look for animals – but we hadn’t done that in a long time.   So approximately two years five months ago, I said, “I’d like to take a ride up the canyon.”  We did, we stopped at Cheryl’s Diner for lunch, and here’s how it went from there.

The Surprise Quest

  1. We talk about how we’ll never leave Bakersfield, even though our kids and my sister and even we are always talking about escaping.
  2. We talk about how everyone wants a place close to nature, with wildlife, better air, etc.
  3. I have a V8 moment: we could BUY A CABIN close by that anyone in the family could use to get away!
  4. We quickly do calculations in our head to see if we can afford it.
  5. We start for home and pass Alta Sierra.
  6. We see an open house sign and go in.
  7. We go back the next day and make an offer.
  8. We start escrow and then pull out when we find out improvements were made without building permits.

The Right Place

  1. Once started, momentum builds until we find the cabin we want.
  2. Being us, it doesn’t take very long.  Why confuse ourselves with too many choices?
  3. To get to this cabin to see it, however, we hike about ½ mile in deep snow.
  4. Our realtor slips and slides behind us in her Uggs.
  5. We get there, stand on the balcony, look down, and see a plowed road.  All the hiking for naught.
  6. Mark gets the car and brings it to us.
  7. We make the offer and wait for the brand new cabin (ok, a two-story house) to be finished.

The Preparation

  1. Ikea becomes our best friend.
  2. We make scale models of the rooms and scale models of the beds we liked at Ikea
  3. “We” means my husband because I can’t make anything precise that has numbers involved.
  4. Goal – sleep as many people as possible.
  5. We move the little beds around the little rooms and find we can sleep 12 if we buy two bunks that are queen sized on the bottom and single on the top.  Plus four beds and regular bunks.
  6. We make trip after trip to Ikea in Burbank, 90 miles away.
  7. Once, we pick up my sister at the Burbank airport and barely have room for her in the car.  Yes, we’d been to Ikea.

The Move, Memorial Day Weekend, 2008

That’s the cabin way up there.  The U-haul is in the neighbor’s driveway.

  1. Rent the U-haul.
  2. Enlist as many people as we can to help, which is the grandkids, our daughter, and her husband.  My brother showed up for a while too.
  3. Drive the U-haul and crammed cars and find we can make it easier by parking the U-haul in the neighbor’s driveway.
  4. Begin to understand just how steep our driveway (which is dirt) is as innumerable trips are made to the car.
  5. Realize stairs would be very helpful.
  6. Finally get it all in, realizing that tired Mark and Matt have to assemble all the beds by bedtime.
  7. Have the grandkids assembly all the lamps so we’ll have plenty of light.
  8. Turn on the faucets and find out we have NO HOT WATER!
  9. Call the builder in a panic, leave a message, figure out how to configure dial-up internet and send the builder an email.
  10. Get no response.
  11. Call the electrician whose name the builder gave us.

And next

  1. Watch the ELECTRICITY go out, negating the rush to put the lamps together.
  2. TRY NOT TO PANIC EVEN THOUGH WE KNOW NOTHING ABOUT LIVING IN THE MOUNTAINS AND PROPANE TANKS AND SEPTIC SYSTEMS AND WHO TO ASK FOR ANYTHING.
  3. Calm down
  4. Walk a couple of houses away, find out their electricity is out also, borrow candles, and go out to dinner.
  5. Laugh so hard on the way back from dinner, probably about nothing at all although cows figured in, that emergency restroom moments occur.
  6. The ELECTRICITY IS ON.
  7. The electrician has stopped by just out of kindness (Matt didn’t go to dinner) and says the hot water heater is no good.
  8. Send more panicked messages to builder.

Next

  1. Listen to your daughter tell the kids that they CANNOT STAY all weekend and they’ll be leaving the next day.
  2. Endure general displeasure.
  3. Sleep.

Settling in


  1. Get up Sunday morning to find the Bakersfield Six (grandkids) have made PROTEST SIGNS and “chained” themselves to the beds to prevent leaving.
  2. Have mom waver on leaving.
  3. Continue unpacking, go to Lake Isabella to pick up some needed items from a city that has a good hardware store, a Vons, but not much else.  Oh yes, a McDonalds.
  4. Return to find the kids washing their hair in COLD WATER just to prove they can do it without hot water.

Walking down to the Greenhorn Grill for lunch

  1. Go to lunch, get seated, look at the table next to us, and it’s OUR BUILDER who has not returned any messages.
  2. He says,” after I finish eating, I’ll install a NEW HOT WATER HEATER I have in my truck.”  (He only lives about 4 HOURS away.)
  3. His name changes from BUILDER to GOD.
  4. The mood lightens.

Monday morning

  1. We see a deer.
  2. Even though it’s Memorial Day, it lightly snows.

The rest of the weekend proceeds smoothly, but wow, what an introduction.

AND THEN we proceed to enjoy the cabin.  Mark builds stairs, we get asphalt put on the driveway, and we spend quite a bit of time up there.  I love going up alone.  I don’t think I’d be doing art if it weren’t for the cabin.  The kids come up, we sled in the winter, laze in the summer, and do a whole lot of nothing.

We have our Chinese lanterns on the balcony and I have my Star Trek flag hanging.

This is the wildlife we’ve seen, mostly on the drive up and back.

Wild turkeys

Wild turkey chicks

Quail

Robins

Stellar jays

Western tanager

Rose-breasted nuthatch

White-headed woodpecker

Black-eyed junco

Ravens

Other woodpeckers

Magpies

Martin – it was amazing to see a martin

Deer

Wildcats – I’ve seen four!

Coyote

Raccoons

Looking back at older posts, I see I’ve written lots about cabin adventures.  I don’t think my husband is enjoying it very much – yet – but this year we can work on that.  The rest of the family loves it.  During these years, retired but not old, family seems to be what it’s all about.  Giving your family good times and pleasure is everything.


#CED2010: Cabin in Winter: Almost Snowed Out


2010
01.27

Cabin in winter cocooned in snow,

Visiting brings it to life.

Inside heat melts outside snow

Creating new creaks and sounds.

Would’ve been scared as a kid.

Settling in, finding a rhythm

To being alone in the woods.

Wandering mind loses focus,

Don’t care, not concerned.

After all, it’s only me.

Cocooning in snow, waking the cabin

With books, canvas and paints.

Crashing through silence, ideas tumble.

Thoughts focus in images and words.

Sleepiness scares them away.

Alone in the woods, finding a rhythm

To thinking and writing with paint.

Everything quiets, urgency flees

To return on another’s day.

Today, it’s only me.

I love being at the cabin alone.  But I almost didn’t make it.  We knew there had been four feet of snow last week (we’re at elevation 6,200 ft.) but the guy in charge of our “snow plow collective” said the road had been plowed a few days ago.  Maybe he was dreaming.  Anyway, my husband drove me up because I knew we’d need the chains and I don’t seem to be able to get them on.  So we got most of the way, and here was the “plowed” road.

Time for chains.

We still couldn’t get up – first the snow tires failed us, next the chains.  We could just leave the car there and carry everything to the cabin – SO MUCH because I take all my art stuff!  And food.  But we did it.  I did the first trip only.

There was the stair rail, but where were the stairs?  Under four feet of soft snow.  We became trail breakers, sinking in past my knees with each step.  At one point I fell down and sunk so far into snow that I figured I’d just stay there until snowmelt.  But no, finally I maneuvered myself flat on my stomach and figured out a way up.  Camera hanging from my neck the whole time.

So that’s why I did the first trip only.  By now, I was willing to call my husband my sainted husband.

Without the stabilicers I wouldn’t have made it at all.  These are ice shoes with crampon things on the bottom and they strap over your shoes with velcro.  I won’t set foot in the snow and ice without them.

Even if the road had been somewhat plowed, our lower driveway sure hadn’t.  We have four foot high flexible things with reflectors on the top, mainly so I can stay on the driveway as I back down and not go off the edge.  Can you spot one?

We made it.  Mark left to go back to Bakersfield and he’ll get me on Saturday.  I won’t be setting foot outside the cabin except to the balcony – maybe.  But everything worked.  Internet is spotty but working.  Water works.  Hot water works.  And furnace works, even if it did take several hours to get from 39 degrees inside to 68.

It was pretty darn cold so I sat snuggled in a blanket and caught up on my newspaper reading, finally getting enough energy to make dinner.  As far as I can tell, I’m the only one up here.  That’s what prompted Cabin in Snow, the poem I started with.  I was almost snowed out.

Art Journal Collage – Body Theme, Creative Every Day


2010
01.04

The new year.  Just got back from our cabin in Alta Sierra – seven days with from three to six grandkids at all times.  Here are four of them:

I’ll have a post coming about that soon.  We had a great time in the snow (snowmen, snowboards and tubing at Shirley Meadows).

and some wonderful walks by the North Fork of the Kern River.

Now I’m trying to get my brain back in focus!  Because I have to sit at an actual desk on an actual straight-up chair to do this (until the Macbook is repaired or replaced) I’m slightly discombobulated.  It doesn’t feel creative here; it feels workmanlike.  Which, come to think of it, creativity could benefit from.  It evokes that dreaded word discipline.

I’m going to do the Creative Every Day challenge that Leah Kolidas offers on her blog.  Now, I’m not going to do an entry every day.  For a year? I’d wear myself out as well as my readers.  But I’ll dip into the challenge at least twice a month.

What’s good about this is the nudge – Leah has a theme for each month, and a nudge here and there to get moving and producing is helpful and fun.  So here is what I did in my journal the other day.  Actually, I did it at the cabin.  I had no notion of meeting the January theme of Body but looking at it, I see it does.

The images are from a National Geographic story on Stonehenge.  Most of the time when I work, I don’t really know what I’m doing.  For art journal entries, I do a watercolor background of some sort, and then images just arrange themselves on the page.  For this one, I knew I wanted to start with geometric images. Unnoticed by me at the time, the predominant stone, rock, whatever it’s called in the foreground, looks like a person with his/her back turned.  This gives a whole other dimension to the collage.  My mind flies to all the things this could represent about women (I think of it as a woman), strength, resignation, resilience,  power, and more.

The only geometrics that remained exposed after I collaged are the lines that form a V, or a triangle at the top.  They are cradling Stonehenge, which releases another stream of thought now that I’m thinking of the stone as a body.   I like what resulted so much that I may do a large version.

As to explaining how the art happens, I came across a wonderful quote that whollyjeanne posted a link to on twitter. Here’s the quote and it explains the artistic process as well as anything does.  I suppose this is how the collage happened.

“There is a vitality, a life force, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and there is only one of you in all time; this expression is unique, and if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is, not how it compares with other expression. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep open and aware directly to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open. No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is a queer, divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others.” ~ Martha Graham

If you want to see other photos or photo collages for that matter, take a look at my web page.