Happy Birthday, Heather

Saturday, April 3rd was my daughter Heather's birthday. If anyone ever should appear on a blog entitled "whatsoever things are lovely"; it is my beautiful daughter. You see, Heather is one of those rare people who exudes loveliness; body, soul, and spirit. There is a a certain kindness and generosity of spirit that radiates from her. When she was just a little girl, a few doors down the street was a very troubled boy. He would often run out of his house screaming uncontrollably and drooling. It wasn't a pretty sight. Needless to say, the boy had no friends and was the source of endless teasing at school and on the bus. But he did have one friend...Heather. She always stuck up for him. I never told her to. She just did. But Heather was as tough as she was sweet. She was a wonderful athlete and competitor. Played basketball on the boy's league because she was too talented to play at the girl's level. And she always made the ALL-star squad. Always. And what a soccer player! Now as a mother of four, I watch Heather with amazement as she negoiates the pre-teen years with her oldest daughter with a grace I wish I possessed. She always has time for her children. She takes such joy in each one of them, and somehow finds time for each of them individually. If you were to visit Heather's home, you might find her playing soccer in the back yard with her kids; or looking at Home Depot for shocking pink paint for Jordynn's bedroom. She might be taking Isabella to a dance class or Junior to soccer. She and baby Sophie could be found curled up together as they read a storybook together. Or you might just find her helping her husband tile the bathroom or installing a ceiling fan. Many weekends she babysits nephews and nieces. But the one thing you can always count on, is that Heather is always doing something for someone. Her children are blessed. Her husband is blessed. Her friends are blessed. And I am very blessed to be her mother. Heather, when you were younger, you were so agile, so graceful, that you made every sport you played look effortless. And now you make your role as wife and mother look as graceful and effortless (though we all know it is not.) You, my daughter are lovely in every sense of the word. Happy Birthday to You!

Pretty Prints of Children

These pretty prints are by Chinese artist Kee Fung Ng. I found them while searching for items to sell in our antique store booth at Keepsakes. I never buy anything I wouldn't want to have for myself. I absolutely adore pictures of children, so I bought them without hesitation. The artist was born in mainland China in 1941. Some years later he emigrated to the US and established his own gallery in San Francisco. He painted these from memories of his days in China. Aren't they exquisite?

They remind me of wonderful times spent on the beach with my own children. I'd often take them to Auntie Melba's beach house at Sandy Point, or to Birch Bay in the summer. We'd spend long lazy days meandering along the sandy shoreline looking for treasures, wading in warm tide pools, and hopping over incoming waves. It was the one place I can honestly say where my 3 children never squabbled with each other. I think the beach just gives you the space to be yourself. There is nothing more precious than a little child, and no better place to take them than the ocean!

Walking Along Fishtrap Creek

Took a rainy day walk along Fishtrap Creek today, looking for signs of spring. The Nooksack Indians named it Fishtrap Creek because the salmon spawn here. In the old day, the natives had a trap to catch the spawning salmon, somewhere near this spot. They shared the catch with the early pioneers. Still the salmon

fight their way back up this creek to lay their eggs and die... I hope it shall be this way forever.

I turn to follow the path through a hemlock grove in our little city park. My mother, now gone, played here as a young girl. My grandchildren come here in the summer. They splash in the cool water and rest under the canopy of the evergreens... This too, I hope shall continue forever.

Every spring the creek is stocked with trout for a fishin' derby. Hundreds of hopeful girls and boys line the banks to try their luck. Today the water is muddy from rain. But even so, this gentleman has caught a nice one! I wonder what he used for bait?

Here's a charming stone cottage that sits by the creek along the way. Even though it's not big or grand, for me, this little place is the stuff of which dreams are made...

The owners brought artisans from Europe to thatch the roof. The stonework is amazing. They've kept the yard simple. However, in the summer, their espaliered apple trees are lovely. (not shown).

The path takes me past the gazebo. It's raining, and a little tempting to stop in and dry off a bit...but we Washingtonian's can handle our rain.

Come to think of it, most of us would more likely use the gazebo to escape the sun than the rain!

Shall I turn this way....

or go over the footbridge? I think the footbridge today. I once saw an owl perched in a tree just above the bridge; I still look for him every time I walk past. Nope, he's not here today.

I greet the folks with the striped
umbrella. They return my greeting and ask how I'm doing. It's like that here in my hometown. People still smile and say hello. They stop their cars when you are trying to cross the street. And they wave at you when you walk by.

On Friday nights they come out to watch the boys from the home team and cheer them on--even when lose.

On Sunday they go to church.

It's like that here in my hometown.

The path now leads me away from the creek and through Homestead Golf Course. (I don't call it a Country Club,

that might be just a bit pretentious, don't you think?)

Spring golf at Homestead is for determined, hardy souls. Yes, I play, but not in the rain, not much anyway.

Almost home...here's a neighborhood cottage I just adore...it's for sale if you're interested...

Well, it's raining. The crocus are blooming and the golfers are out.

I think it might be spring after all, along the Fishtrap Creek!

Despite my aforementioned knitting disaster (the infamous Razzberry Beret); I continue to knit. I don't know why. Maybe it's the color or the repetition. It's like gambling, but much less expensive. My coffee table is laden with library books about knitting. The sofa is strewn with snippets of yarn. I find myself buying yarn like I used to buy fabric-just for the color. I don't have to be thinking of a project, persey (is this how you spell per-say?), I just need to buy yarn. Wool yarn, acrylic yarn. Variegated colors. Bright fuschias, forest greens, rich chocolatey mochas and vanilla bean colors. If I can't buy yarn, things about knitting will do. So yesterday I stopped by Barnes & Noble for a hot chocolate with extra whipping cream and a visit to the crafting section. I found this extraordinary knitting book! It's title was enough to draw me in..."Mason*Dixon Knitting". Subtitled The Curious Knitters' Guide. Stories, Patterns, Advice, Opinions, Questions, Answers, Jokes, and Pictures. Who could resist such a title? If you love to knit and you enjoy folksy writing, this book is a must have!

***