Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Sunday Drivers





Friday was fun!  Kathy (nee Swanson) and John Waters joined us for lunch at our house.  Kathy and Tom knew each other from college but hadn't seen each other since.  She and John have had fascinating careers with Wycliffe Translators in Africa, mostly.  They've lived in Dallas for eight years working for Headquarters, but still travel extensively for their various duties.  It was great fun visiting with them.  Of course, we only scratched the surface of all the amazing stories they have to tell!


Sunday, we felt like getting out for a drive.  It had been a couple of years since we'd followed Hwy 49 north-ish very far.  Thought we might see some fall color (hinted at by an article in the Bee that day), since it's just beginning at our altitude.  Alas, it was only gorgeous in greens.  We'll have to check back for yellows and oranges in a couple of weeks.


Driving 49 (which ambles alongside the North Fork Yuba), we come to Downieville in a little over an hour.  Tiny, quaint.  It's nestled beside the Yuba at the junction of Downie Creek.  We hopped out for a little stroll.  Downieville is a mountain-biking mecca. 





















About a half-hour farther, we gain a bit of altitude and end up in Sierra City, where there's a cute little restaurant we like that has a multi-level patio with a creek running through.  You can see it on the left side of the street in the last photo.  We sat at the table made of a flat rock next to the water (there under a yellow umbrella in the photo).  It would be very difficult to beat the setting anywhere. 



Thinking we'll do this drive and on beyond later in the month, we decided to turn around and head for home.  


Hm.  Bonsai or art next time.  And where's the Blotter been?











Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Celtic Bubble


It's raining outside.  Ahh.  First real rain in four months up here.  A good time to cycle through the 180-or-so photos I took (!) at one of my favorite events of the year--our local Celtic Festival, held at the Fairgrounds this last weekend.  


I attended on Saturday as Tom preferred to hang out at home doing Tom Stuff.  It's OK.  He did the home tour with me on Sunday.


I love it all.  There's the theater of it all--a morning processional with all the crazy-elaborate costumes and bag pipes, little guild tent villages set up and occupied by reenactors, and the folks, like me, who just come to enjoy, but, unlike me, are decked out nearly as well as the professionals, but with a heavy preference for wood-sprite outfits.  The royal encampment busies itself all day knighting people and sword fighting and such.  The apothecary guild is busy apothing, or whatever they do.  And so on.
Then there's the music.  I flit around, listening to umpteen groups performing beautiful Celtic fare from any of, oh six stages set up all over the place (more than one audible at any one time).  Some is raucous and jiggy, others are soft and melodic.   I often lurk near the large, always-changing group of musicians who jam all day playing the classics.  


I peruse the crafters and other booths selling anything from hand-hewn wooden kitchen tools or tea to Celtic garb or a massage.  I watched a stone carver awhile, and then tried it out for myself on both sandstone and marble.  Big "aha".   A bit of insight into sculpture I've seen all my life.  Love the tools!


In one of the guild areas, I chatted with a guy who makes (and, indeed, was busy fabricating) chain mail (ring by ring) and plate armor.  Armor made completely of mail can weigh up to 200 pounds.  There's a workout for both the soldier and the horse, I think--and that's without picking up shield and weapon and trying to wave them around a bit.  Plate armor weighs less, but, of course, not so flexible.  Just one of the trade-offs in the armor game:  Comfort or life.


Lots for kids to do.  Blowing monster bubbles was a hit.  Hopping on hay bales, climbing through a plywood castle and making art in under the canopy were popular, as well.  I watched as several little winged girls walked the labyrinth to write their wishes on Post-its and slide them under the elastic band wrapped around the tree in the center.


Enormous Irish Wolfhounds.  In this picture, the larger (two years old) stands over 36 inches at the shoulder.  The smaller one is only 6 months old and on track to be taller than his companion.  The Wildlife Rehab and Release folks brought some of their gorgeous critters to show off.  Great horned owls, kestrels, a harris hawk, and Tecumseh, this red-tailed hawk I've seen several times before.  I think he likes me.


I watched giant men and some impressive women participate in Highland games, heaving 22# blue stones (think shot put), hammers (ball-on-a-chain) and cabers (think telephone pole), among other weighty objects.  There's a group on a constructed ship's deck (with sails and rigging) and, naturally, sailors shouting stuff like, "six bells and all's well" and that sort of thing.  


Lots of food.  Dancing, spontaneous and otherwise, everywhere.  


A huge percentage of attenders, as mentioned earlier, come in costumes of all sorts.  The women seem partial to the fairy-queen or pub-wench look.  Men sport kilts of traditional tartan as well as the popular, more contemporary, khaki.  Utilikilts are often in evidence in this area, Celtic Festival or no, but they're ubiquitous at this event.  I think they are catching on.  Kinda cute, I think.  Think cargo kilts.


 It was an all-engrossing day's wallow in a Celtic bubble and I loved every minute.  Perhaps next year, I could don a monk's cowl and bring my pens and some ink...