SPRING?

After a cold, foggy morning, the sun came out this afternoon. The weather man predicted temps in the 60s. Here at our house it reached 60.

I took Nellie for a walk wearing the same sweatshirt and fleece jacket that had me freezing to death on Friday. Today I was overly warm.

Here's a picture of my first crocus. As you can see, I have yet to clear the old vegetation out of the yard.








And here you can see the "basket o' gold" setting on its blossoms.






Shadows against this rock caught my eye -- as though it was something new, something I hadn't seen before.



 


And here comes Mike - returning from his first outdoor ride of the season. KW

HUMOR ME . . .

Mike and I attended a local geocaching event at Baskin Robbins Wednesday evening, the purpose of which was to give cachers a chance to log a geocache on February 29. (Some spent the day geocaching in order to log the memorable date – 2-29-12.)  Several new area geocaches were discussed, and Mike was enticed to get out and find them.

I was in the middle of baking cookies yesterday (Friday, March 2) when Mike announced he wanted to go geocaching at Mann Lake. So, I put the remainder of the dough in the fridge and put other plans on hold. There’s always tomorrow – well, most of the time there’s tomorrow – when one is retired.

It was a pleasant day – just a little chilly – when we set out from the house. I was comfortably warm in a sweatshirt and my little blue fleece jacket, and in my haste to leave the house, I totally forgot the cardinal rule of outdoor activity in Idaho: “Take your coat, take your coat, take your coat.” No matter the season, no matter the day’s temperature – take your coat. By the time we reached Mann Lake, a manmade irrigation reservoir roughly 15 miles east from our house, the sun had disappeared and a biting wind was blowing. I was miserable!

Mike didn’t bring his jacket either, although he keeps an old ski jacket in the pick-up for emergency purposes, and we commenced to fight over it:

“You take it.”

“No, no – you take it.” And so on.

I was even so bold as to suggest we just go home and come back on a better day when we could enjoy a spring outing, but Mike didn’t want to. So in the end, I wore the emergency jacket and Mike wore my little blue fleece. The jacket was too narrow in the hips for me while my fleece bound Mike’s shoulders. So much for beautiful clothes!

After we resolved that battle, I suggested we drive closer to the cache sites rather than hiking. It took some convincing, but Mike came around to my way of thinking. And once we had driven to the other side of the lake, we saw that we could drive even closer – wonderful!

We were particularly interested in a four-part multi-cache – three preliminary caches, each leading to the next, also provided the combination to the lock on the fourth cache. But when we arrived at the final cache, we couldn’t find it. The site seemed reasonable – a deteriorating covered bench – but there was just no place for the cache except under the bench, which appeared to have been recently re-braced – and it just didn’t seem feasible to remove that. We spent five minutes there and Mike was dejectedly turning to leave when I blurted out, “Humor me – can we take this apart?” So Mike set to work. The brace actually just slipped out, the blocks were pushed aside, the boards lifted – and there was the cache box in a neat little “grave” all its own.  We were the third party to find the cache. Mike dialed the numbers we retrieved from the previous three caches and the lock opened. He did the paperwork and easily re-braced the bench as we had found it.

As we wended our way back to the pick-up, I was so grateful we didn’t have to hike to the other side of the lake. In the warmth and protection of the pick-up, we took off our ill-fitting jackets. It was after 4:30 by the time we arrived at the house, which was also cold. Mike lit a fire in our stove while I heated the oven and finished the cookies.

Logging onto the cache site, Mike discovered that the two previous finders had received help from the cache owner in order to find it. We congratulated ourselves that having arrived at the site we persevered on our own to find the cache.

I had been thoroughly chilled. After supper and a hot shower, I was ready to sleep. KW

[The first photo looks north-westerly from a site near Mann Lake to the confluence where the Snake River is in view. The next two are Mann Lake on a bleak winter day. The last illustrates the cache site at the old bench.]

TRIBUTE TO AN AMATEUR PHOTOGRAPHER II

This is a continuation of the previous post, a remembrance of my Uncle Earle, the amateur photographer. While he did occasionally take family-oriented pictures, Uncle Earle’s hobby interest was scenery photography. He was meticulous about his photography – perhaps a bit obsessive as hobbyists often are -- and would write whole paragraphs about the settings, the time of day, etc. I believe his first camera was a Kodak, with which he took black and whites, but eventually he bought a German-made camera of which he was proud, and he began to take slides. My mother once noted that Earle liked his pictures without people, and without the human touch, she thought his slide programs boring. “Not so much as someone’s back,” she said.

In 1960, Uncle Earle retired from teaching high school math and industrial arts in Idaho Falls and returned to the Orofino area. But alas! He was forced to give up photography because of Parkinson’s Disease, so he gave his camera to my dad. That was the end of black-and-white photography at our house and the beginning of slides. My parents never used their little Kodak again. Was there something wrong with it? Perhaps so. As Chris commented on the previous post, there’s something to be said for black and white pictures.

Daddy was interested in photography and really worked to take good pictures with Uncle Earle’s old camera. Daddy was impressed by the fact that Uncle Earle held the camera in high regard, but he and that camera seemed to be at odds. Maybe you remember how it was when taking outdoor photos. You took a reading from the light meter, set the camera according to those readings, and then you took the picture – and hoped for the best. Indoor pictures utilized a flash, of course, and looking at the old slide images I post you can see that many have a glare to them. Son Clint suggests that’s the effect of the bright flash. At any rate, Daddy wasn’t satisfied with the camera, and I remember visits to the camera shop in downtown Lewiston. I’m sure the biggest problem was that the camera was “old technology,” to use today’s vernacular.  Or maybe it was my dad who needed the adjustment rather than the camera –I just don’t know.

Or, perhaps it was just that it was the wrong camera for my dad’s purposes. Perhaps the camera was perfectly suited to Uncle Earle’s interest in outdoor photos of inanimate objects but not so good for my dad’s interest in recording family history. Sometimes I wonder why he didn’t he have a camera that was easier to use and better suited to his purposes, momentarily forgetting that it was a different day and time. Cameras did become easier to use in the ‘60s, but digital photography was still a long way off.

Given the restrictions imposed by this camera, my dad’s pictures were mostly posed, even if the pose just happened. There was no such thing as an action shot, no spontaneous photo of a little one’s antics, no pictures of special moments in the everyday. Cameras weren’t then what they are today, of course, and that’s my point. But Daddy had an artist’s eye, so occasionally he set up a shot that was out of the ordinary.  Eventually he quit taking pictures altogether, and that’s a pity. I think it’s sad when individuals with certain interests or talents don’t have the equipment to really enjoy the pursuit and develop a quality product. KW

[It was difficult to select photos for this post. I find that six is about all any one post can handle. 

Photo 1: a studio portrait of Earle J. Dobson, my uncle.

Photo 2: My grandmother, Ina Dobson (Earle's mother), and Earle's wife, Bernice, taken Oct. 23, 1949. Note Grandma's suit. I want to make one of that type as a costume for my "Ina" program. Oh yes -- and there must be a hat, gloves, handbag, and shoes.

Photo 3: "Old Faithful," taken by Earle, July 4, 1942.

Photo 4: Julian Dobson, August 1940, taken by Earle.

Photo 5: A fading color photo taken with Earle's camera. Black and white is a more lasting medium, and I am grateful to say I have a number of black and white prints taken on this same occasion, July 19, 1953. This is Grandma Ina with five of her six children. From left: Myrtle, Earle, Ina, Vance (my dad), Ethel, and Shirley. 

Photo 6: The homestead at Gilbert taken by my dad with Uncle Earle's camera in 1960.]

TRIBUTE TO AN AMATEUR PHOTOGRAPHER I

My dad's brother, Earle, was a good amateur photographer. In fact, a number of the photos in the Dobson collection are Earle's work, so I felt a tribute was in order.

Earle was a babe in arms when his parents homesteaded in the Gilbert country. He served in the U.S. Navy during World War II and then graduated from the normal school in Lewiston. Beginning in the 1920s, he taught math and industrial arts at the Idaho Falls (Idaho) High School. He and his wife Bernice lived simply and returned home each summer so that Earle could help his aging parents with the farm duties.

Living in Idaho Falls put Earle in proximity to Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks, and he loved their majestic beauty. Though he took good pictures of the family, eventually he took pictures of scenery almost exclusively. As you read the descriptions of these photos, penned by Earle himself, you can see that he wants to develop as a scenery photographer. This sampling of pictures he took with a Kodak in the '30s.

Photo 1 -- The window in the other picture is in the rear of this church. This is one of my best pictures. This little Episcopal church stands in Jackson Hole and foresight was certainly slow in the selection of this location and the installation of the window. Grand Teton Mt. Curtis.












Photo 2 -- Taken through window behind the pulpit in the little Episcopal church shown in the other picture. Anyone, regardless of creed, could worship here. When one steps through the church door he is immediately silenced with a great awe when he beholds those majestic peaks behind the cross. 

 





Photo 3 - A silhouette of yours truly taken against a medium sunlighted window on 1/25 sec., diaphragm set at f.16.












Photo 4 -- This is the finest scenery picture I have ever taken bar none. It was taken about 11:00 a.m., October 23, 1938, and is one of the Teton peaks with Jenny Lake at the foot. We came suddenly upon this view and it almost took my breath away. Horizontal view would have been better but not enough Kodak. Note the pebbles in the edge of the lake. [An enlargement of this photo, or one that is similar, hangs in the farmhouse today.]





Photo 5 -- Teton Peaks from Jackson Hole. Grand Teton is second from right (el. 13766 ft.). This picture is not so good on account of too much foreground. The car should not have been it it. Also, there isn't enough sky behind the peaks. [Yes, too much foreground, not enough sky -- and yet, I surely wish I could see more of the car!] KW

FINDING A CACHE AT DUSK

“I have one last cache to find,” said Mike as we wended our way home from Boise, “and it’s just up here.” We had already passed through Riggins where we crossed the “Time Zone Bridge” and were coming close to White Bird.

I wasn’t expecting another stop. Dusk was rapidly becoming dark and I was doubtful we could be successful in the find. Oh well. 

Mike likes to plan a few caching stops when we travel. It gets us out of the car for a stretch of the legs, and of course, Nellie always likes to explore. We had stopped earlier in Ontario, Oregon, where we were unable to find the “Green R Us” cache at Walgreen’s. But we did find one by the side of the road in cow country along the way.

Anyway, I hopped out of the car and began taking pictures before all light vanished. Given the time of day, I thought the pictures turned out reasonably well.

AND – Just as Mike was giving up, I spotted the cache. It was a “buffalo tube,” a little cylindrical container about the size of your little finger, hanging on the branch of a bush. Those can be hard to spot.

The last few days I have been busy with P.E.O. activities as I finish my second term as chapter president. That work will continue to keep me busy for the next couple of weeks. Then someone else will be president, but I'll help her get started. 

We had wind during the night which is supposed to continue until late afternoon. Nellie doesn't like it -- is lying at my feet. It was 57 when we went to bed -- that's warm! -- and is 56 this morning. It's 66 in the house without any heat, so I can make it without heating. The forecast is for a low of 35 tonight. KW

REUNION IN BOISE

. . . it just makes you rave to think that it’s like a trip to another country to get to the southern part of your own state. Ina Dobson, 1934

Hallie had to work in Boise last week, and since Milo lives in Boise, she arranged to stay through the weekend to spend some time with him. Clint agreed to join them from his home in Gooding on Saturday. Tell us that our kids are gathering someplace, and we’ll make every effort to be there, too. So we left Clarkston at 3:50 Friday afternoon (the 17^th) and arrived at our Boise motel at 10:20. Nellie? – of course, she rode along in the back.

It wasn’t an easy trip in 1934 and though it is undoubtedly improved today, it is still a difficult trip. It’s 250 miles that takes us up and over the Camas Prairie of north central Idaho, down into the Salmon River Valley, through a twisty mountain pass, into the farm / ranch country of Payette / Weiser, until finally – for the last 50 miles of the trip, we reach I-84 which swoops across southern Idaho. For whatever reason, traffic was heavy for most of the trip.

Saturday morning we picked Hallie up at her motel and headed to Milo’s. Having gone through a difficult divorce, he’s settling into a new place and routine. We had things to do and we set to doing them – fixing a comfortable bed, tuning the bike, tuning his old car, making his place cozy. We drove to bike shops, marts, and grocery stores – not necessarily in that order, not necessarily all of us at the same time. Mid-morning Clint arrived and the five of us were together through dinner. Then we said good-bye to Clint.

Saturday afternoon grandson Mason joined us for a few hours and he thought Dad’s new place should be cleaned, so Hallie and I joined in. It was fun – not a chore. We saw grandson Gage only briefly that day, but on Sunday both Mason and Gage came to visit. Gage is athletic and active while Mason is more introspective and requires a quieter atmosphere. With four adults on hand, we had it covered. Grandpa Mike and Milo took Gage geocaching while Hallie, Mason, and I played with electronics and cleaned, cleaned, cleaned.

After lunch at McDonald’s, it was time for Mike and me to begin that arduous trek back through the mountains to our own valley, so we said good-bye to Milo, the grandsons, and Hallie. Hallie’s plane wouldn’t leave until 7:30, so she had a couple more hours with Milo until her return to Seattle. KW

[Photo 1: Hallie, Clint, and Nellie.

Photo 2: Mike and Milo

Photo 3: Nellie thinks it should be more about her.

Photo 4: Clint, Kathy, Milo, Mason, Hallie and Mike -- a timed shot. Can you tell?

Photo 5: Hallie and Mason

Photo 6: Mason called Nellie and she immediately crawled onto the sofa to cuddle with him.]

RULE #1: FINISH WHAT YOU START

According to my resolution - my plan of action for 2012 -- this is to be a year of finishes. If it can't be a year of finishes, then nothing more must be added to the "to be finished" list. And that means I have to finish anything I start. There has to be a loophole, you know, because things do come up.

We're going to Boise this weekend where we will spend time with our three children -- the younger family, as it were. Hallie's new job is taking her there for a few days and she arranged to stay into the weekend. Milo lives in Boise and is settling into new circumstances. And Clint is coming from Gooding to join us on Saturday. 

I don't know if we'll be able to see the grandchildren or not, but I decided to take gifts, just in case. I read recently about machine embroidery on fleece, and nothing would do but that I make fleece throws with their names embroidered on them. Yes, there I go again, off on another tangent, but I've never worked with fleece and I've never lettered a name with my machine. The project seemed worthy on several levels.

I was going to buy fleece on sale, but when I got to Jo-Ann's and reasoned through the cost, I changed my mind. Instead I went back to "Nameless Mart," where "no-sew" fleece kits were on sale for $7.00 and bought two. The kits come with two pieces of fleece -- a panel piece and plain backing -- designed to be tied together. Perhaps the panels were a bit small and juvenile for the older boy (11), and also a bit -- what's the word? militant? -- for my taste, but I still liked the price for my learning level. I also bought batting, and ignoring the "no sew" thing, I trimmed the two pieces of fleece to the same size, embroidered each boys name on the backing, and stitched the two pieces together with batting between.

Fleece seems very forgiving. I was pleased with the results, and next time I won't be afraid to buy the yardage. KW