Courage, redemption and restoration

Our friends John and Anne bought a wreck of a house this week.

It took courage and vision to buy something with potential that nobody else could see.



When escrow closed, I went to work alongside them, breathing new life into something forlorn and stinking.



Move out the squatter with his unspeakable porn, but do it gently and with kindness.

Get rid of the rats and mice. Cleanse the kitchen, carry out load after load of garbage, and wash out every trace of disgusting things that carry the stench of death. We were gagging and it was awful, but we did it.



Every inch was permeated with trash and dirt and decay. But the house had good bones, as my friend says. At its core, she knew there was something worth saving and I am cheering her on.

We are people who believe in restoration.

We have hope.

For nations, for communities, for our neighbors.

Even for one little white house on a hill in Clear Lake.


As the week drew to a close, we'd gotten rid of most of the junk inside. We'd hauled out the freezer full of rotting meat, dumped the buckets of evil-smelling liquids, and trashed filthy mattresses.



It's only a start. There are many loads to haul to the dump, and it'll take years to finish, but things are moving the right direction. You can feel it even though it's going to be a long and dirty task.



There's a new day coming for the little house by the lake.

You can almost hear this house start to giggle.


The old is swept out, there's a new day coming.


Already the little house begins to laugh again. We had a birthday party in the gazebo yesterday, and there will be sledding and cocoa this winter. Soon laundry will flap on the line, and when Thanksgiving comes, Anne will roast a huge turkey in the oven and smile wide in her country kitchen.

We are people of hope, and we believe. Oh yes, we believe.

Hiking the Cascades

"Let's pack a picnic and go," said Mr. Wonderful at breakfast.

"Yes!" Cold chicken and lemonade, cherries and chocolate chip cookies... Sketch pad, watercolors, pencil... leashes, puppies and nalgenes full of ice water and we're tootling east up the highway and into the Cascades.

This is the same glacier we see from the living room window, but up close it rivals the Alps at its best.


Alpine lakes. Snow fields, even in July. Glacier lilies. And that's just for starters.




Trickling water refreshed our souls with music composed by God himself.

I was stunned by the wildflowers~ everything from flowering blueberries



to ferns unfurling like a majestic and artful dance



buttercups side-by-side with the violets along a mossy stream...


When we turned toward home I felt as if I'd had a whole week's vacation, condensed into one glorious day.

How is it that one place can be so refreshingly energizing?

If you are coming to the Pacific Northwest this summer, you must let me play tour guide. I need to go up into the Cascades again. Soon.

Nearby the studio... farmland

The farmlands I walk or jog past daily are exceedingly precious to me.


If it were only the connection to our food that would be enough. But no...


We eat with the eyes first before we take a single taste. And in my case, I savor the fields over and over.


We eat as locally as possible, cherishing the connection between the farmer and the food. How wonderful to know where our food comes from. Even when it's our own garden... home grown eggs, the cherries and berries and beets, the onions, potatoes, apples and tomatoes.

This afternoon in the garden

This afternoon it's lazily warm and I'm out in the garden scissors in hand... snipping out the elements for a cottage garden collection. I've got a stack of florals finished up and scanned but need to scissor more.

And at my feet, the loyal following... right now it's Luna, and isn't she sweet?


On the trellis beside the studio door the Colette roses bloom, inspiring me for more cottage garden pieces... a twining rose image is in process at the moment, and it's so handy to have the real thing blooming nearby, and the scent drifting by.



Do you remember those adorable chicks that were peeping away in a cage in the studio at Eastertime? They are now turning into humorous laying hens who try to roost in the wisteria trellises in the evenings, which made us think some had disappeared until we found them hiding under the foliage.


Everything's in bloom, from the sweet peas to the clematis and roses over the gazebo. I think it must be time for an iced tea on the mossy table just inside the door and out of the camera's view.

So now you know about me, and it's your turn. What are you doing this summer? I'd love to hear from you!

Walking in the woods

Somewhere between 3 and 6 in the afternoon I put on my running shoes, reach for the leashes and dash out the door with this silly trio for a pleasant little jog. Today we changed the routine and took a drive to a familiar wooded area we all love.




There we found an abundance of blackberries and blackberry flowers well attended by bees. It's like a promise of wealth ahead... pies and cobblers and jelly await!



I discovered wild black currants already ripe and waiting... delicious munched straight from the bush! And a few blueberries just hinting at purple. I must come back in a few weeks and remember the spot where they wait.



Just a bit down the trail I was surprised with wild cherries dangling appealingly. Why do I never bring a ziplock bag when I need one? With three dogs on the leash and no stepladder I suppose I couldn't have done serious picking anyway. But still... leaving all that fruit!



The woods were chock full of delights, some familiar and some to puzzle over. Do you know the plant below? I can't figure out what it is, and whether its fruit is edible or not.

Home again and back to work. What a blessing to live in an area where the earth is so ripe and abundant.

I almost think Thanksgiving should be held in summer, because this is the season that leaves me almost gasping at the riches that surround us.

Alaskan earth colors

I'm still thumbing through my Alaskan sketchbooks and sifting the photos...

I made an earthy palette trailside to refer back to and thought you might like to see it. Sometimes it's a surprise when you draw colors straight from nature only to see how shockingly different they appear when you isolate them from the whole.


That's what I thought when I pulled this color scheme together~ it's an unlikely combination, that's for sure.


Ferns both subtle and brilliant, side by side...




Blazingly bright hues that seem almost neon...but turn your head just a bit and there you see the most delicate of colors...






And yet somehow, when you view the entire composition, it all looks strikingly right, doesn't it?

Here's a color palette I drew from nature in my Alaskan sketchbooks...

If you are a color fiend as I am you might enjoy this website, chock full of inspiring palettes and color tips:

www.colourlovers.com

Raspberry season

Raspberry season.

I guess we all have our weaknesses and mine is raspberries. Or even better, raspberries and chocolate.


Which explains how it is that I've made (and eaten) raspberry chocolate cupcakes, raspberry muffins, raspberries over chocolate mousse, salmon with raspberry sauce, fresh greens from the garden tossed with (you guessed it!) raspberry dressing...


This afternoon Anne and I spent an hour picking berries. She left with a kettle full of juicy red berries. I have a nice small pan full and lips stained pink. If there's such a thing as a raspberryaholic, I am one.


I've promised to bake a raspberry pie for tomorrow's picnic, so I'm headed to the grocery for whipping cream and cream cheese.

Here's my mom's deliciously simple recipe, guaranteed to vanish the moment you serve it:




Raspberries and cream pie

A baked pie shell (chocolate is extra good)
8 oz cream cheese, softened
1 pint whipping cream, whipped and sweetened with 1/3 c sugar, flavored with lemon zest and 1/2 t. vanilla
Fresh raspberries

Fold together cream cheese and whipped cream and turn into the pie shell. Top generously with berries. Refrigerate at least 6 hours. Serve chilled. Can top with more whipped cream, more berries and chocolate shavings if desired.

If you like, you can make a glaze of raspberries, water, sugar and cornstarch and cool slightly. Pour warm glaze over the berries.