That's drizzle . . . not drivel--

Simply living... in the Pacific Northwest

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Just some snaps to cheer me up

Thanks to Deb at for the inspiration.
Old-fashioned  Columbine
Sedum Autumn Joy

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Corn Day 81

This post is linked to Down To Earth "On My Mind". Check it out for some lovely Down Under, down home reading:

OK, Mr. Hume, I will cut you a little slack since we've had such a mild summer (sorry to virtually everyone else in the U.S.).

But, it's Day 81, and the on the seed pack you said 79 days to maturity. Not 78 or 80, mind you. 79.

It looks like to me we're looking at another week. I am going to sock it to the corn with water in the coming days to see if that helps fatten up those ears.

I am eager to make corn relish---you might say I am relishing the thought! We are going to have a lot of corn coming on all at once, and since I do not own a pressure canner, and have limited freezer space, AND my husband nearly sucked all the air out of the room when I mentioned it---I will be making relish with my corn. At least that which we do not eat fresh.

Monday, August 22, 2011

Dialogues that just make you laugh

This is one:

Hunter and Pa Pa went fishing today. That's a big deal here. So beforehand, Hunter and I went to the store for fishing excursion snacks.

His current favorites are those roll-up fruit snacks. He eats them so fast it makes you fear either he's going to choke himself to death or he's a secret bulimic.

So he cons me into buying a box (containing 6 small bags) of fruit roll ups. These are not simply short rollups. I'd say totally unfurled they measure, oh, maybe 36-40 inches. He asks there in the aisle if he can have one, and I reply, "No, you can have one once we get in the car."

So on we go, finishing up the shopping,one of us all anticipatory and atwitter over the impending engorgement of rich fruit-flavored high-fructose corn syrup solids. During check-out, his eyes follow the box as the checker scans and bags it. THEN, as I'm wheeling the cart out of the line and toward the door, he asks the question I've been waiting for:

"Now can I have one, Granny?" He smacks his lips.

"When did I tell you you could have one?"

"In the car."

"Are we in the car?"

"No."  (Here's where I smile thinking about this--I love that he answered me.)

"Then what do you need to do?"

"Be patient."

That's right, Hunter...just be patient. Let those salivary glands reap the rewards of all that waiting! Gleeking will rule the day! Buckle up, rip, unroll and enjoy!

Epilogue: According to Pa Pa, the rest of the box was annihilated in about 15 minutes at the fishing hole.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

That great new-library-card-smell!

(this is a link to Down To Earth's On My Mind forum

Is there anything like that smell?

Yesterday was library day for Hunter and me. We try to (and usually do) go to the library every other Wednesday. We have a great system here in our area and it just got better in July with the opening of the new central building.

Hunter looks forward to our library visits so much. His first intent always is to visit the DVD section to see if there are any new train videos he hasn't seen yet. (Hey, whoever is producing those, keep it up!)

I decided it was time for Hunter to have his own library card. All these years we've been doing this, I've been checking out his materials with my card, which is okay, but I wanted him to have his own card. I'm not sure what kind of reaction I expected from this. But the process was exciting to me.

The librarian was nearly as excited as I was when I made the request. As I filled out the necessary paperwork, she told me she wanted to give him the usual schtick she gives all kids receiving their library card. Ok, I told her, but he has a bit of autism going on, and I can't guarantee you'll get any eye contact or reassurance he knows what you're talking about. He probably will get it, but you just won't know that for sure.

So I corraled him from the DVD section for the orientation. It took about 28 seconds.

"Hi, Hunter! This is your very OWN library card! Now, it's important you keep it in a safe place and always bring it with you when you come to the library, because if you want to check out books, you can't if you don't have it. So, now, would you sign the back?"

What Hunter probably heard:
"Hi Hunter! This is your ........blah blah blah...........sign the back."

He signed the card eagerly because it was a really cool Sharpie pen, but needed help spelling his last name. Then as fast as he came, he was trotting toward the stairway to, the children's floor where all the cool hands-on stuff (meant for 0-5 year olds) is. I collected the card, smiled and thanked the librarian and her misty-eyed assistants standing nearby.

Sunday, August 14, 2011

Ridin' the rails with my guy

Hunter has loved trains ever since he learned there was actually a mode of transportation which accommodated his penchant for lining things up.

We always wondered if this love would wear out over the years, but, no, it seems to be stronger than ever.

Before the summer came to an end, I bought tickets last weekend for us to ride the Chelatchie Prairie Railroad train up in Yacolt. It's got an old diesel engine, a caboose, a club car and an open-air car.  I believe the engine and railway used to work the logging industry back in the days before the spotted owl. Now it carries families and friends visiting during vacation, train enthusiast groups, and, I imagine, the occasional boy living with autism and a fascination for anything "train."

The train meandered along about ten miles per hour throughout the bucolic countryside, ten miles down to Moulton Falls and back, with a thrilling tunnel in between. Cows, horses and goats scarcely noticed our presence as we rattled by. Motorists waved. The sun shone. Perfect.

I noticed Hunter's body language during the ride. I know part of what he was doing was stimming, resting his cheek on the side of the car, watching the tracks pass beneath us. But he was also noticing all the different features of the train. The whistle horns (he numbered each one), the stack protruding from the caboose (why?), the placements of the lights.... I'm so proud of his many perceptions, and I'm so glad to be able to share these types of things with him.

His responses to experiences heighten my sense of gratitude; sometimes he gets a bit overwhelmed with what I guess is inner joy. All he can manage to say is, "Granny....I love....I love..." He can't seem to express  the rest of the sentence. He is just loving the moment.

I love, too, Hunter.