Do you remember my posting about the fat girl inside screaming to be left alone? Now I have the solution to those flimsy chairs:
These redwood chairs are made locally by Bob Kellogg of Three Rivers and when I sit in this, my legs stick out like Alice in Wonderland! It is my throne, and sometimes I am the Red Queen.
For eleven years I have been walking around Three Rivers. The spring is the best time, and this is the best spring I remember, ever! No hot spells, regular rain, tons of flowers in both quantity and variety. . . who could ask for more? Each year, there is a wonderful fragrance that arrives in May, something akin to orange blossoms. Diana and I couldn’t figure it out; Robin and I finally decided it was an orange tree that we just couldn’t always spot. I was not satisfied with either solution, and this year while eating dinner al fresco, I noticed it again. The next day Michael and I both noticed it on a walk, and this time we both discovered the answer.
The Arts Alliance of Three Rivers did an outstanding job of organizing, publicizing and managing the Redbud this year! The music was just right, the booth size was generous, the signs leading the public in were visible and consistent in color and design, the vendors had high quality products, the food choices were plentiful, the parking was convenient, and the volunteers were always available and helpful! This was a great show! The hardest part was having too many people visit my booth at the same time so that conversations were abbreviated or I missed opportunities to greet folks who took the time to stop by. Look at all the paintings that sold:
There might have been more, or I might have shown you the wrong poppies. . . hard to say because I slept last night. You can see that poppies were the favorite subject. What you might not be able to discern from this posting is that the most popular size was 6×6″. My theory is that people’s walls are full and while their wallets aren’t completely empty, cautious spending is the pattern. This is normal behavior in Tulare County rather than an indication of the entire country’s economic woes.
Time flies when one is having fun! It is already time for another First Saturday in Three Rivers, falling on May 1 this week. The flyer is too big to load, so for info about this event, go here:
One day while walking, instead of looking out for that yappy squalling ankle-biter named Miles, I looked up. What a nice surprise!
This is an undoctored photo of a daffodil. In my regular walking route in Three Rivers, I encounter a yard with several of these. Really! I used to think all daffodils were yellow – many different shades and combinations, but always yellow. Guess I was wrong!
I may have mentioned that I walk a lot. April 25 is coming, and my friend Nancy and I plan to walk 21 miles in Monterey. Nancy and I get together just once a week for our long training walks, so during the week we are walking alone. My walks are usually in Three Rivers. This provides a great deal of time to look at one’s surroundings, think, pray, mumble to oneself about how long it takes, use a borrowed iPod, plan blog posts, fret over the amount of work one isn’t doing while walking. . . a person could stay very busy while walking! Here is something that struck me this week – there are a number of peculiar items on one of my regular routes. Let’s start with Ruby:
Ruby is a boxer with a leopard spotted couch, complete with an awning for shade. This couch is parked directly along-side the road, and Ruby watches people go by. I make a point of greeting and petting her. If I happen to be wearing shorts, she will get up and lick my knees. Now, that is peculiar!
A mile above my house is a beautiful place which goes by many different names: Case Mountain, Salt Creek, Craig Ranch, and BLM. I call it the last one, which, if you are not a Westerner, you might not know means “Bureau of Land Management”, which is under the Department of the Interior. But enough blah, blah, blah – you probably came here for the pictures.
Earl McKee keeps his horses here. In the morning before the sun hits, they have a little convention that looks like they are frozen in place. It was chilly!
The other JB and I were headed into the sunshine.
There are 2 seasonal waterfalls up there.
Did you know “cataract” is another word for waterfall? The dictionary says it is “a large waterfall”; I wonder if “large” refers to volume or height.
The variety of wildflowers was stunning, and I am rather proud of knowing the names of all these. I’m content with photos; JB wanted some to press and dry. Reminds me of my great Aunt Mary, who lived in Three Rivers when I was young. She made beautiful stationery with dried wildflowers and taught me their names.
We walked for a little over 3 miles before having to turn around. The only consolation in cutting our walk short is that the Redbud aren’t yet in bloom and give us a reason to return soon.
If you are reading this in Chicago or Alexandria or somewhere else that is having a real winter, please don’t do anything rash but just try to enjoy this posting. February is spring in Three Rivers. Down the hill in Visalia those poor folks have to contend with fog and gray days, but up here there are fiddlenecks in bloom, along with something white, an occasional plum tree, and narcissus. The daffodils are about to pop in my yard, as is the flowering quince. The green kind of looks fake because it is so very intensely green. This is how things looked on a recent walk:
My husband sometimes rides his bike along with me on my long walks. It helps pass the time, and he brings water. 😎 On days like this I have my little camera; someday you may see paintings that look oddly familiar!
Last weekend I was at the Chevron station when a man in a white van pulled up behind me. He asked if I had done the mural; I hesitated until he said he liked it. (Chicken!) Then I admitted it was mine. We visited about it for a bit, and he asked if he could make a suggestion. I said, “of course!” Then, he felt a bit embarrassed, and I had to really work to get it out him.
He suggested having more flowers extend beyond the borders, which I had considered earlier but gave up on when I couldn’t get my paintbrushes to behave in the drying wind. Hearing it from a “fan” caused me to realize that a second try was worth the effort. The man kept apologizing, and finally I had to explain that I am painting for normal people’s enjoyment, and that anything a “normal person” suggested was probably worth considering. He admitted to being a “normal person”, so Mr. Normal Guy, I thank you!!
untitled, Tulare County Fire Station #14, South Fork and Sierra Drive, 7×14′
