Jul 10, 2007 | This Life
My mother is an extraordinarily extroverted person who could not understand how her child wasn’t a chip off the old maple. I was little miss chatty at home, so why couldn’t I be that way out in the world? Why did I prefer to hang back behind her skirts? Matters got ever more complicated when my younger brother came along two years later. He was a fledgling maple, and that was that! Clearly, I had a defect that needed addressing, so my mother set out to reform me. She made sure that I was exposed to multiple social situations, much to my dismay, and pushed social graces.
At the time, I abhorred the whole ordeal. Beyond feeling like there was something broken in me, I was completely flabbergasted at the very idea of being compelled to be social. Why go to youth group when you have a perfectly good book to read? Sadly, I never learned to like it, but I did learn to fake it. Very well. So much so, when most people meet me they have little idea of how terribly introverted and private I am.
But meeting people out in the world is a very different story than inviting them into my home. The thing is, I love to play hostess—so, I tend to offer invitations with ease only to find myself after the fact, wondering whatever got into me! I stress if the house is clean enough (not possible!). I stress over all the projects unfinished in this house (Why can’t I get a contractor in Astoria to return my call??). I stress over what I’m going to serve and will it be enough (in this heat?? Not much. Iced Mochas anyone?). I stress over what I’ll say (probably too much because I babble when I’m nervous). We won’t even discuss my vanity issues: what to wear, what to wear, Oh My!
Eventually, I run out of time to stress and my guests arrive. Whatever preparations I’ve made will have to be enough—I will have to be enough. Take a deep breath and be welcoming. That part was a lesson well learned. Point to all the beautiful flowers—perhaps they won’t notice I have a huge case of the nerves.
UPDATE:
Well, it seems my nerves were for naught! My house guests decided that they didn’t have time to drop by today, after all, and I found myself with a very clean house and pitcher of iced mochas on hand. What to do with a pitcher of iced mochas?? Never fear, their tour guide and my adorable friend Kathleen was more than willing to help me out with my quandary. We sat out on my tangy porch and took in that stunning view!
Part of me is disappointed if only because it’s been a terribly hot day and cleaning wasn’t exactly how I’d intended to spend the day. But part of me is elated; Kathleen is very easy to talk to and I enjoy her company. We certainly made sure the Iced Mochas didn’t go to waste while she told me all about her new card line with Papaya. I can honestly say that at least I don’t have a case of the nerves in her company.
Jul 9, 2007 | This Life
This is perhaps the best time to be buying fresh flowers from the sidewalk stands. My personal favorite in town is on the corner of 7th and Hwy 202. I can see this little splurge quickly turning into an addiction.
Yeah, that’s my way of saying there’ll probably be more of these kinds of photos appearing on this blog before the summer is over. Can you blame me?
Jul 7, 2007 | This Life
So, I wasn’t kidding yesterday about there being lots of adventure to be had here in Astoria. The Oregon Coast really is a Wonder World. Lately, the boy and I have been skipping around the area and I thought I’d share a few of our larks throughout the summer. Maybe we’ll make it a weekly thing? This much beauty was meant to be shared.
Don’t get me wrong, this little family is “plugged-in”. We like our gadgets and gizmos; the first question we ask when we’re vacationing is, “Do they have Wifi?” And we’re not immune to the charms of indoor entertainment; we will be standing in line on opening day to see the next Harry Potter! But the great outdoors calls us—and when the Universe blesses your little rainy town with a week of sunshine, it’s just blasphemy to spend it entirely indoors! Which why the boy and I headed out for a little adventure yesterday.
Youngs River Falls is just a blip on the Lewis and Clark historical map. There are more important and monumental historical sites. In fact, it doesn’t get a lot of play even with the local story tellers, because it doesn’t really factor into the story. However, this little known historical site is a perfect destination on a hot day, so pack your sunscreen!
Take Hwy 202 head toward Olney. Make sure you stop at the Olney General Store for something cool to drink on your journey. They sell the typical road-side fare, but also have some things you won’t find in your local stores. We picked up Italian sodas and water for pennies, and I squirreled away yet another tube of chapstick. What can I say, you can never have too much lip balm!
Just past Olney on the 202, there is a right-hand cut off for the Falls. Follow it 3.7 miles until you see the Lewis and Clark historical site marker.
Getting there is the easy part, leaving–not so much! You’ll be tempted to linger as long as possible. In order to do so, it helps to be prepared. Wear comfy hiking shoes because the short trail to the river bed is steep. Flip flops and slides are a big mistake going down, nearly impossible on the hike back up. The “beach” is actually part of river bed, so don’t expect any sand. However, there is a great rope swing and a swimming hole for the brave of heart, the water is COLD!
If you have the shoes for it, I highly recommend hiking down stream a bit. It gets less crowded and quieter further away from the falls. In late August you can hike along the riverbed and pick berries. The water isn’t too deep and you’ll find lots of lovely places for a quite lunch.
For those of you who aren’t hikers, the falls can be viewed from the parking area. However, the steep traverse down to the river bed is worth the mini workout required. For those of you who do brave the steep path, resist the urge to snap photos on the way down and carry all your belongings on your back. The trail is short, but very steep; small children might need some assistance.
Happy trails, I hope you’re finding wonder in your back yard this summer.
Jul 6, 2007 | This Life
I grew up in a town much like Astoria. And like most kids, I was pretty convinced that there was nothing to do in it, especially during the summer. The joys of small town living can escape the young—however, I had parents who were quick to point out all that we did have. Every, “Yeah, but we don’t have a mall,” was met with, “Yes, but we do have a lake.” They understood that malls and entertainment of their ilk were the offspring of concrete and cement; a jungle that seemed appealing, but in reality couldn’t compete with the wonder-world we had just outside our doors.
It was true, but I couldn’t see then how very fortunate I was to grow up in such a small place. For while it might have been short on all those big city luxuries I craved at 16, it was big on natural beauty and opportunities to explore. Exploring became the activity that would rule my childhood—chart my days until it was no longer fashionable and my interests started leaning toward the social.
I don’t regret such a childhood. It just took becoming an adult to realize how lucky I was to have a lake to swim, and mountains to hike, and small country lanes down which I could amble at my own pace. Typically, that was break-neck on my bike peddling as fast as my feet would take me to the grocery store in town for a cold pop. Yet, there were those moments where I would hike up the mountain (a dormant volcano!) behind my house until I found a large enough boulder far enough up the mountainside to take in the valley below. There, I would sit for hours pondering the mysteries of the universe. Or, at least the mystery of when I’d get my first kiss.
So, when it came time to pick a place to live, I knew that I wanted a natural playground for my child to explore. One of the things that attracted us to Astoria was just how much natural beauty this place has to offer, just how many exploring opportunities there are available. In fact, one of the reasons we bought the house we did, was that our boy would be able to see the river from his bedroom. When you think about it, how cool is that, to have such a view to inspire your dreams. I grew up in a world where the water dominated our lives and was such a part of all our memories, I wanted that for my child. One look at Astoria and we knew we’d found just such a place.
Even now, as Boy Wonder rearranges furniture in his room for a better view of the river, we tell him how charmed this life is, and his is to be living here. He tends to agree, “Moving to Oregon was the best thing we ever did!” I can’t help but marvel at the fact he doesn’t need to grow up to figure out just how beautiful this place truly is.
Jul 5, 2007 | This Life
The 4th of July marks the anniversary of our move to Astoria. We moved just shy of the holiday two years ago and so the 4th has become our own sort of “Independence Day”. We celebrated in true Wonder style; on our porch with lots of food. Mostly, it was a day of hanging out, reveling in the beauty that is life, and doing everything at a leisurely pace. The photos below are just the highlights.
Two years ago, we discovered that you could see most of the town’s firework display from the empty lot on our block. However, this year, we were treated to the display from our very tangy porch! And while the last photo in the set below isn’t a superior piece of photography, it gives you some idea of the fabulous light show we were graced with last night.
Fireworks was followed by home-made ice cream and then we lit the last remaining sparklers, one for each of us. Glittery little prayers of gratitude for an amazing year.
We certainly had a fabulous 4th of July. We hope you and your family did too!
Jul 4, 2007 | This Life
Last year at this time, some local wrote a letter to the Daily Astorian complaining about the dreadful lack of patriotism in the town. His proof? The sparsity of flags displayed on private property. Never mind, that the business section of town is decked out in rhinestones—this author found the lack of personal displays of patriotism shameful.
Clearly, that stirred up a maelstrom. And for good reason, the very idea that a displaying a flag is the only way to be patriotic is shameful! So, the responses flew in and people argued. I tuned them out— because I grew up in a small town just like this, and there are some arguments you don’t enter as an outsider. You know those arguments, it’s like when Aunt Sally starts berating Uncle Bernie at Thanksgiving about his cigar smoking habit and you start to jump in for the defense, your mama shoots you that look that says, “Child, don’t. You don’t know what you’re stirring up.”
As much as it broke my bunting loving Southern heart I left the house undecorated lest anyone take my flag flying ways to be in support of the worst kind of patriot. Mindless boobs, the lot!
This year, I’m clueless about the controversy and I’m staying that way! I’m sure it’s blown over by now, but I’m not peeking at the local rag to find out either. However, somewhere in the past year while I was canceling our subscription to that flea-infested paper we call the Daily Astorian, I didn’t make time to actually acquire any “patriotism”. . . and that proved to be a different challenge altogether.
Yesterday found the boy and I driving around this county looking for bunting, patriotic fans to be exact. It seems that our county is dry on bunting—at least in the fan-shaped variety. Everywhere I turned, there would be houses adorned to the hilt with the stuff, and the exact opposite in the stores. Hmm… correlation? Not necessarily. I’ve had my eyes peeled for weeks now and the only bunting-esque items I could find were made of paper or plastic. Like groceries, bunting is best delivered in cotton canvas.
So, we gave up. Threw in the towel. Came home and ate lunch. Next year and the internet would solve our problems, but this year, we’d have to wear our patriotism in our hearts. That’s where it serves best, anyhow.
UPDATE: Yeah, so it seems when you’re hunting for something, looking right under your nose is a good place to start. Look what I found in Safeway of all places! Safeway really does sell everything, including that ever elusive patriotism.
I personally think the house looks a wee bit naked still, it could use some real bunting at the entrance to the porch. However, I think we’ve established that IZ is a “less is more” kind of guy (cough*northerner*cough*) who thinks my coral star is statement enough. The fans have put him over the edge, I think. And like I mentioned, the stores are depleted or devoid. Next year, right?
Still, the bunting selection is really thin here—if you’re looking for a niche to fill and you’re somewhat entrepreneurial, I suspect the internet and a booth at the farmer’s market during June next year could see you in the Patriotism business and doing just fine.
