Monday, January 30, 2012

Amy Jumps from a Log, 2011

We spent a great deal of time at the beach, beginning in about 1974.
In the late 70s someone took a picture of me jumping off a large log with my hair -- approximately the same length (proportionally) as it is now -- straight up in the air.
Its one of those iconic family photos that will live forever. I believe I'm wearing a little off-white cable sweater, plaid pants, and possibly little red rubber boots. Definitely not purple-soled Reeboks RunTones.
This frame most closely re-enacts the original photo. Except I seem slightly more prone to gravity than when I was 8. And the original was captured with excellent photography, probably by mom, and not with a 16-frames-per-second setting.
Sister and I try to recreate the photo again about nearly every time we are at the beach together. Put this one in the 2011 file.

Beach Family!

OK, last timer shot of beachgoers, I promise.
Our last visitor? SISTER!
No wading on this visit.
Such a handsome couple! The thrift store at which mom volunteered had graciously invited us to attend their holiday party. I was not able to go, as I was under the weather, but I was able to get myself off the couch to snap this pic of the partygoers!

Sunday, January 29, 2012

You Trashy Thing.

One of the myriad unusual activities we participated in at the coast was trash removal. The north coast has a rather comprehensive community recycling center, considering its remoteness and small-town-ness. Sister **kind of** got in trouble for putting aluminum cans in the tin cans, or the tin cans in the aluminum cans, I'm not sure.
 I really like the small (With joyous abandon) on the right side of the sign.
Yep. Recycle your shoes. And as you know, free is a very good price.
 Yep, a bin for recycling your "Cookin' with Alf" dolls. Naw, its the free bin.
Speaking of trash, back in Boise, my husband finally had enough, and took the Sawzall to that non-working hot tub that the former owners left us...dang near 4 years ago.
The boys at the landfull were impressed with his trash-removing fortitude. I was impressed with the freed-up back deck space! :) Yay!

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Random Beach Moments

One day it was THIS windy. It was kinda like this one day when I was on this beach and I got married.

One day I went in the Pacific Ocean. Up to my ankles.
 Glorious.
The sea was angry that day, my friends.
This beachy place is good for your blood pressure.

More Beach Visitors!

Let's return to the good old days... back when I was enjoying my bucolic coastal retirement and playing Florence Nightingalle. The in-laws were gracious enough to pop down to the coast and visit Dad and I!
I call this one... "Dads." :)
You know our theory. If you gotta walk for rehab, you might as well do it here.
And more gabbing. Then, the payoff...hamburgers at the tav! Yay!
Who couldn't shoot this all day long.

Monday, January 23, 2012

A Quiet Christmas...

As you might imagine, we had a rather quiet Christmas, so not a ton of pix.
As I flew back to Idaho on the evening of December 22, Dad and Sister and I went out for a little holiday celebration dinner. It was such a lovely evening out.
Then, upon returning home, we threw a little Christmas up...
 ...and after a month, the family was back together...and all very sleepy.
Christmas eve brought a festival of cheeses...three kinds of heated fondues, and a bunch of cold sauces too...
And with friends Lori and Shelby, we made short work of this tableful of little snacks and treats, dipables and bites. I was so into setting the table, I forgot to take a pic of all of us celebrating Christmas eve! It was a lovely holiday weekend regardless. :)

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Miss Ginger, 1994-2012

Miss Ginger.
Ginger.
G.
Miss G.
G Love.
Ginger Ann.

Toot.
Tootie Ba-gooty.
Toots LaRoo.
Rooty Patooty.
Rootie, Tootie, Fresh and Fruity.
Patoot.

The sleepiest wiener dog in four states.
Tootle Bug.

Doodle Boo.
Weegie.
Weeger.
Little Buddah.
Toota Boodah.

You knew Old Man had to muscle his way into this post.
Bed Yeti.

Tiny Red Wookie.
Our ward.
The Beast.
Beastie.

The worst at sitting for photos... ever.
Grandma.

Little Old Lady.
Wiener Wraith.
Spector of Wiener.

Family.

Ginger Angelina Bobolina Fancypaws.
Rest in peace, Sweet Girl.

The Walk to the River

Most of the month I was away I was here, at what we call "the river." Which is to differentiate it from "the beach." The coolest thing about the the river property...is...well..duh. Just step out the back...
Down the stairs...

 Across the yard...
 Around the tree...
You're almost there...
Ta-da! The North Fork of the Nehalem! Right out your door! So lovely! 

More Carnage

The folks behind the gate in the community where Dad lives were remarkably generous. Twice while I was there they stopped by and asked if we wanted a fish they had just caught. Dad graciously allows them river access across his property, so nice they were paying it back. Upon the second asking of, "Would you like a steelhead?" I informed him "the answer to that question will always be yes."
Dad pointing out that this one still had sea lice on it! Eww!
Oh the headless carnage.
Just about everyday, five days a week, all summer long, for three summers, I fileted two to four fish for consumption at the restaurant sister and I worked at through college. I love the smell of fresh fish. It smells like it was once alive, unlike some of the stuff I drag home from assorted grocers.
Despite my pointing out that a 10-pound steelhead was about 4 pounds for me and 4 pounds for dad (after beheading and gutting), he decided this one was for smoking instead.
Which is good, as it allowed him to share it across the coastal and Portland metro areas. That's right. He shared with...flatlanders. And despite Southwest's strong encouragement to not put food in your checked luggage, he was even able to share it with a couple Idahoans. The brining...
And the smoking. Such generous neighbors! I would post pics of the two crab one neighbor dropped off, but we pretty much walked from the door to the table and said crab was gone.