Better to Laugh Than to Cry

Recently, Trail Guy was in my studio and took the 2018 calendar off the wall so we could do some planning. The 2019 was hanging behind it and fell on the floor. He said, “Hey, you have a typo in your calendar!”
How can that be?? I used a template from the printer for the calendar part, and my part is all drawings except for the cover and the months on the back.

If you ordered a calendar from me, look at June: the printer’s template had the WRONG YEAR for June!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME??

But this is a 2019 calendar!
I contacted them and they will be replacing my order. When it arrives I’ll have to send new calendars to everyone who ordered by mail (65 are sold of the 100) plus try to remember who bought them in person so I can replace them.

If you bought one from me in person, please let me know so I can replace it. (I have records of all who ordered from the website.)

They sent me a proof before the reprinting. Another oops:

It wasn’t just the year that was wrong; it was the entire page! (Look in the corners. . . this is a 2019 calendar, folks!)
My head might be a little misshapen from banging it on the wall, but it is okay for you to laugh. I thought my walking partner was going to fall down laughing when I told her. Remember, my very wise dad said, “It’s better to laugh than to cry”.
I’ve worked in 2 different print shops in my varied “careers” (they were really just jobs, not careers), and I remember how when a job started to go bad, sometimes there was just no hope. This is a good printer that gives great service, and I want to help them get it right for me so that I can get it right for you.
Let’s find a bright side, shall we? I will be helping to keep the local Post Office in business.
I need to see something soothing right about now. . .

Learned in October

  1. These are dogwood “berries” (don’t know if that’s the real word for this). A friend showed me that her domestic dogwood tree made berries, but this is the first time I’ve seen them in the wild.
  2. This same friend introduced me to this: “Cottage gas stations” a style of gas station built in the late 1920s and ’30s. What?! The idea was to have them blend architecturally with residential areas, and some went so far as to have decorative non-functioning chimneys! Many have been remodeled as coffee shops, retail stores, hair salons, markets, offices, and all sorts of businesses, while others have fallen into disrepair. Here are a few links to some of these photogenic structures:  History of Cottage Gas Stations, Historic Filling Stations, Gas cottages Phillips 66
  3. The topic of cabins and what makes a cabin is much deeper and more thought-provoking than I ever imagined. A cabin might be simple, but discussing it is not. Who knew??
  4. I learned the hard way that buying a template is no guarantee of correctness. Even when you buy a calendar template from a printer and add your own artwork to the template, YOU NEED TO PROOFREAD THEIR TEMPLATE. If you ordered a calendar from me, you will be receiving a replacement one in the mail soon. If you bought it in person, get in touch with me for the replacement. (I don’t know when they will be arriving, but I will replace every one that I am able to find the buyers, all 65 calendars if possible. . .Oy Vey. . .)
  5. Each summer I think I will learn the names of trees in Mineral King. Then I get so into the wildflowers that I don’t pay attention to the trees. This fall I learned Western White Pine, AKA Silver Pine. We found one between Crystal Creek and Soda Springs, and then I was able to find it in a simple “Tree Finder” book. I’ve never seen this before, and don’t know if I’d recognize it in another context.
    Western White Pine cones
    The needles are similar to foxtail and lodgepole
    the branching pattern is distinctly unfamiliar.

    The sign doesn’t identify the tree but in this photo you can see the bark pattern.
  6. Did you know that in the publishing world, it gets busy in the fall? Many people want to get their books printed by Christmas. It is slower in January and February. This is helpful information to me as I work on Wildflowers of Mineral King. No one needs this book in December; no one needs this book until May. Hence, I am slowing down the process of completing the book. (This will give me more time to proofread it. . . sigh.) 
  7. Magnifying glasses, just like a kid’s magnifying glass, can start fires or melt plastic.

    Well, oops. I’ll be more careful about where I lay my glasses in the future.

Pumpkins

This the season of pumpkin spice everything. This blog post is pumpkin, minus the spice.

I posted this photo of paintings in progress.

A regular blog reader said she’d like to buy the painting. I touched it up, signed it, varnished it, and mailed it off to her. I forgot to scan it, so this is the best I could do from the above photo to have a record of the painting.

And here is the email conversation I had with this friend/reader. I found it charming and appropriate for Pumpkin Spice Season.

I collect pumpkins (since I have an October birthday)

It started with my 60th birthday … instead of gifts … I asked for pumpkins … have the givers name on the bottom of each .. so when I set them out,  I am remembered of how much I am loved!   

I actually started with some of my own, and friends knew I liked pumpkins prior to my 60th.  

And some friends gave me multiple small ones… disclaimer that I have sooooo many friends!  Ha ha.   

For me .. the gift of friendship was most important,  and this was a reminder of those treasured friendships.   I just turned 64 and at this stage I don’t want (or need) stuff.  I want time with those I love.

To top it off, she shared these photos with me, which I like so much that I am sharing with you. 

Thank you, Anne, for sharing your pumpkin friendship thoughts and including my painting in your collectoin.

Final Final Cabin Thoughts, Maybe

Someone’s Colorado cabin –definitely not small, rustic or rude

There are three distinct parts to cabin-ness:

  1. The building itself – small, rustic, basic, simple, often without electronic amenities. (But wait! What about the cabin pictured above?)
  2. The setting – rural, semi-secluded, in the mountains, taking an effort to get to (But wait! Have you ever been up Highway 180 to Wilsonia? And do these cabins look semi-secluded to you?)
    A Wilsonia road

    A Wilsonia neighborhood
  3. The culture – slower, focused on people instead of technology; a place to play, recreate and relax, mostly outside; a place where meals and fireplaces become events in and of themselves; returning to nostalgic pastimes either of our youth or of some idealized youth of our parents and grandparents.
Outdoor dining is a big part of cabin life.
Napping is a big part of relaxing at a cabin
See? Outdoor dining
Even outdoor cooking!
Fireplaces are a huge part of cabin culture.
Eat and run??

It seems that the culture part is the strongest determining factor of cabin life. Some of our cabin neighbors gathered in another location for several summers, due to illness of one of their group. One of them told me, “We do Mineral King things in Seattle, and Mineral King is present with us there.” (I probably paraphrased it beyond all recognition – Forgive me, Sawtooth Six!)

P.S. Most of the drawings in this post are part of the book The Cabins of Wilsonia, available here.

A Few More Cabin Thoughts

A Wilsonia cabin

The posts called Cabin Thoughts (Part One, Part Two, and Part Three), were popular among my readers, generating conversations through comments, email, snail mail, and in person. Now that our cabin is closed for the season, I’d like to share a few more thoughts.

A dear friend of many years, Natalie, sent these thoughts, titled “What a Cabin Means to Me”. (Nat, I did a tiny bit of editing – hope it clarifies rather than changes your intent.)

  1. Secluded from the general public and hard to get to
  2. In the mountains
  3. Small and rustic, having only basic amenities, and no room for isolation.
  4. Not a second home, but more of a make-do-and-relax kind of place where there is no television or phone service. A place where you interact with family and friends by sharing meals, playing cards and other games, sitting by a fire, hiking, and just cherishing the quietness of the outdoors.

Once again, mountains, small, rustic, games, firesides, food, outdoors, friends and family appear. I think Natalie’s ideal cabin would separate her family from outside influences, causing togetherness among themselves. This is a theme I found multiple times. . . a desire to unplug and simplify in order to focus on the ones who are most precious.

Our Mineral King cabin is definitely a cabin but varies from Natalie’s thorough and excellent definition in several ways.

  1. It isn’t hard to get to if you don’t mind the poor road, and it is highly visible if you hike a popular trail. (This is the World Wide Web, so I am being vague on purpose.)
  2. It is a second home to us, but not in the sense of a home with all the luxuries you may be accustomed to (our first home is purposely lacking a dishwasher, microwave, garbage disposal and heated towel racks, and we’re just fine, but thanks for your concern).
  3. The cabin no longer has a telephone; we tell people to leave a message on the answering machine at home, and we use the cabin neighbor’s phone to check messages. (This makes up for 36 years of cabin neighbors using our phone.)
  4. Neither one of us likes to play games; in the evenings we listen to the radio, Trail Guy reads out-of-date newspapers that friends bring up to him, I read library books and knit.

There is no single definition of “cabin”, but there is a feel to a place that makes it a cabin. I will share a few more ideas about it tomorrow. Then, maybe I will be finished with this topic. (No promises, because after all, my business is called Cabin Art.)

Quick Trip to Mineral King

Happy Birthday, Anne!!

Trail Guy and I had plans for 2 more stays in Mineral King before closing the cabin. Then he got a viral infection of the upper respiratory tract so we adjusted our plans. Then I got it. Well, bummer, but I still had to make a trip up the hill to photograph a Silver City cabin for a commissioned pencil drawing.

(Not gonna show you the photos because it will be a surprise for the recipient, who may or may not read this blog.)

I got the photos, and we tootled on up the hill. It was overcast, only very briefly conducive to good photos. Here is my one feeble attempt.

We stayed about an hour, split some firewood, loaded up the large redwood Adirondack chair, and headed back home. There is such a melancholy feel to the place when it is minus sunshine and friends.

I tried one more shot through the window of the Botmobile but was a little slow on the draw. (Yes, there is some snow on Farewell Gap and Bearskin is looking like itself once again.)

The melancholy was lifted by a long nap and a visit with these creatures when we got home.

Tucker
Scout

And getting some rain was quite a boost, along with the aftermath of the storm.

This view from our front yard is one reason why we choose to live in the rural and somewhat inconvenient (bear break-ins, rattlesnakes, scorpions, coyotes eating our cats, no yarn store, et cetera. . .)  location of Three Rivers.

Little Spots of Beauty

Today I am sharing pictures with you that are apparently unrelated and don’t have much to do with my art business.

This is just a peek into a few things in my life that are appealing to me, little spots of beauty that I automatically seek out wherever I am, including at the kitchen sink.

Do you do that too?

This bluebird discovered the little grapes in our yard, which the deer and the bears left alone. Weird. The bluebird doesn’t look very blue until. . .
. . . he flies away!
My friend who is waiting for lungs buys flowers when she goes to the grocery store. These just grabbed me, and remind me of a couple of pairs of socks that I knit for her several years ago. (Her daughter may have kiped a pair from her. . .)
I love the beach.
This building at Montana de Oro in San Luis Obispo County reminds me of the old farmhouses at Point Reyes National Park/Seashore. It would be fun to draw or paint, but my market isn’t interested in this sort of subject. Maybe if I called it a “sea cabin”. . .?
This is my favorite house in Cayucos. I know nothing about it other than it gets more appealing every year since I first noticed it in the early 2000s.
Scout

Eight Things I Learned in September

It has been over a year that I have posted these monthly lists, and one of the things I’ve learned is that I learn 6-8 notable things every month. (I didn’t add this fact to September’s list because it felt so obvious.)

  1. Ladyfinger grapes are a new variety of seedless grape. I don’t know where to buy them, but I sure enjoyed them at a potluck!

    Lady finger grapes, a new variety.
  2. My last name is associated with jaundice in Ukraine; they call it Botkin’s Disease. Jana Jaundice does sort of flow, but I will choose to stick with Botkin.
  3. The wildflower Indian pink, which blooms in the foothills in the spring, is red, not pink. This has bothered me for many years (Yes, I know, get a life already). In September, I learned that it is so named because the edge appears as if it was trimmed with pinking shears!
  4. Duckduckgo is a search engine that doesn’t save history, chase you around the internet, and clutter your life with ads. I’ve used it most of September; this is how my home page looks now. Back in the last century when I chose the G for my home page, it was because of its clean white simplicity. This will do quite nicely instead. I’m very happy to not have ads chasing me onto every web site.
  5. Clean air is essential for people with lung diseases even with oxygen 24/7. My friend who is waiting for lungs is markedly improved in her strength, endurance, and overall health after 6 weeks in a place of clean air.

    On the Cayucos pier.
  6. The Elfin Forest in Los Osos is a  San Luis Obispo County park. It has pygmie oaks, because of the salt air and poor soil. It all looked like shrubs to me; seeing it satisfied my curiosity about the place.

    The Elfin Forest, Los Osos, San Luis Obispo County
  7. Atul Gawande’s Being Mortal is the most instructive book I’ve ever read about aging and terminal illness. If you have people in your life who are aging and are wondering about assisted living options for them, or people who are facing a terminal illness, this book will help you figure things out with your loved one’s best interests in mind. It is outstanding, teaching through stories and the author’s personal experiences. I learned way more than you want to read in a blog list.
  8. The plant that I and everyone I know calls “Ice Plant” at the beach is actually called “Sea Fig”. “Sea Fig”? Who makes up these names? I found it in several of the wildflower books that I’m using to gather names for the upcoming Wildflowers of Mineral King: Common Names.

And now, may we PLEASE be finished with summer’s heat??

Random Round-up Including Mineral King History

Today is a round-up of several topics, including Mineral King.

The 2019 calendars are selling steadily – $15 includes sales tax, and I am willing to eat the mailing costs, yum yum. (The Three Rivers Post Office is actually a pleasure to visit.) Yes, that is Sawtooth Peak on the cover, one of the most prominent landscape features in Mineral King. (“Features”, as if it is landscaped? Good grief.)

Ever try to type on a laptop with two purring teenage cats on your lap at the same time? Tucker kept a paw and his chin on the keyboard area, while Scout kept climbing around and slobbering a little. Not a very productive time, but it is a pleasure to have kitties around (except for the slobber part).

A friend wanted to ride her new Harley to Mineral King. She has good sense, and instead, chose to ride it to the Mineral King mural in Exeter.

Louise Jackson gave a talk at the Three Rivers library about why the Disney plan for a ski area in Mineral King failed and how it tied into the larger world. It didn’t fail for one reason but for a combination of reasons:

  1. Roy Disney, Walt’s brother, was the one who ran the business behind the scenes. He kept saying, “We are in the entertainment business, not the recreation business”. When Walt died at age 65 in 1966, some of the fire for the ski area died down. Walt was a skier; perhaps Roy wasn’t. . .
  2. The environmental movement was growing during that time; conservation and preservation became more important than development.
  3. The avalanches were a real problem, and when the big one happened in 1969 that took out cabins, killed a Disney guy and proved that managing the snow was potentially a huge problem, more of the wind went out of their sails.
  4. The road was too expensive to fix. The road was terrible. Still is. We don’t mind. 😎

The avalanche of 1969 crushed the store and rental cabins; Disney sent people in to burn all the rubble. The only little cabin that survived was the Honeymoon Cabin, also known as the Point Cabin.

Honeymoon Cabin #32, oil on wrapped canvas, 8×8″, $100 plus tax.

And finally, I have been working on a new book! Nope, I’ll tell you about it next week. . . see you on Monday!

 

Cabin Thoughts, Part 3

Mineral King cabin folks come from cities, suburbs, small towns and out in the country; we live in mansions, estates, apartments, and even a few normal houses. We are artists, bankers, equipment operators, janitors, teachers, farmers, administrative assistants, engineers, retirees, dental hygienists, sheriffs, lawyers, doctors, day care workers, musicians, optometrists, veterinary assistants, physical therapists, moms, Park employees, physician’s assistants, and those are just the first ones that come to mind. We come from California, Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Nevada, Utah, Virginia, New York, Hawaii, Florida, South Dakota, and Egypt. (Probably more places that I can’t remember. . .)

Our Mineral King cabins, AKA “small, poorly constructed huts in the woods”, are great equalizers.

Every one of us, regardless of our backgrounds, livelihoods, economic, educational or political status, is thrilled to have a small, poorly constructed hut in the woods. Every cabin has a barely adequate kitchen, a laughably tiny (or no) bathroom, maybe one or two or even no bedrooms. Every single cabin user has to figure out how to deal with unreliable water, peculiar propane appliances, old stuff that may or may not work, and the definite lack of a maintenance department, hardware or grocery store. There is a terrible road to get there, rodents, spiders and other wildlife that may or may not be appreciated, and all sorts of unexpected situations. (Who left this chair and what happened to my flashlight?? Who forgot the tonic water? Does anyone have any birthday candles? What do you mean Skin-So-Soft isn’t mosquito repellent? Are you kidding that I can’t blow-dry my hair?)

Every single cabin that is owned by multiple families has its conflicts, whether decorating, cleaning, maintaining, or scheduling. The cabins without partnerships have to bear the expenses, decisions, maintenance and cleaning without benefit of sharing the load.

Those who have complicated lives in fancy places might view a cabin as a mixed blessing: a family tradition, a repository of memories, and a bit of an inconvenience, but a treasured shabby shack in the mountains.

Those who have simpler lives in simpler places might also view a cabin as a mixed blessing: a family tradition, a repository of memories, and a huge treat, a treasured place of one’s own in the mountains.

In my 32 38 years of cabin ownership, I’ve observed cabin folks’ conversation topics go from “How can we save these cabins” to “How have you been?” We have fought together, helped one another, hiked together, learned one another’s family trees, and through it all we have built friendships weekend upon weekend, year after year after decade after decade. And I am just a newcomer. . .

A small, poorly-constructed, primitive, one-story hut in the woods where everyday life is distant and we gather to laugh with family and play board games while a fire keeps us warm. (If you have a giant log mansion on a lake somewhere, then you will have to edit this description to fit your idea of what constitutes “cabin”.)