WE NEED A RAINY DAY...

There's a song that starts I LOVE A RAINY DAY, ... Well it's cold and wet and miserable today, especially since I turned the pilot off on my heater and cleaned up my wood stove for warmer weather.

I can't say I'm loving this rainy day, but we definitely need it. And, there is comfort to hanging out in your robe and slippers for half a day, to work on a project set aside and waiting. For me, a couple of unfinished rugs and one needing repair. And a chance to slog through saved scraps for quilts and begin another while other blocks lay forgotten and tucked away.

I took the time to read some poetry and I like this one enough to share. It is in the public domain.

Loveliest of Trees, The Cherry, Now

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.
Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.
And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.

By A. E. Housman

And, another:
I normally don't like poems that don't rhyme, but this one reminded me of journey's I've had on trains and it was just as described in this narrative poem.

The Dining Car of the Southern Crescent, By John Campbell

The Southern Crescent
snakes its way through
the rolling fog shrouded
piedmont landscape;
a young man on spring break,
returning home from
college, crosses the creaky
passageway that leads from
Pullmans to the dining car.
Breakfast smells give rise to
an ambitious order of fresh coffee,
country ham with red eye gravy,
grits, scrambled eggs and
biscuits with blackberry jam.
The waiter, agile and accomplished,
dressed in a white starched apron,
steadies himself against the swaying
motion of the train; with serving tray
in hand and balanced, he places the
piping hot breakfast on a table decked
with a linen table cloth, pewter
creamers, thick silverware, coffee
cups and saucers and plates etched with
a crescent moon insignia; a small
bundle of daffodils sit in a crystal
vase near the window.
The young man with the vittles before him,
relishes a feeling of adult composure
and delight. "How could life be this good?"
A breakfast fit for a king, waiters
eager to please, railway views of
rural Carolina: tenant shanties,
grazing black angus, abandoned junkyards,
brownstone depots and sleepy towns.
He, still unfamiliar with the niceties
of the wealthy elite, or even the
acquired dignities of his college
professors, avows, while pouring
coffee from a silver carafe into
a Syracuse China cup, that the
dining car of the Southern Crescent
is a place of utmost refinement.

John Campbell's poem was delivered to my mailbox by A Poem A Day, that I subscribe to. His poem is available framed from Poem A Day, and is not in the public domain.

SMART MACHINES.

Rain came down with a vengeance, off and on all day yesterday. And, mighty welcome, too. I have a yen to sew when it rains and my Elna, ten years old but hardly used, is, like a cell phone, smarter than me. Read: frustrating. When I used to sew all the time, I had trouble with it. Now, I have to re-read and re-read the directions that are of questionable help, as in- to do this, you do this, and refer to page 21?  GAK!  I hate that. Thread kept breaking. I couldn't get the tension right, nor the stitch size right given you have to change it for zigzag. From the pictures, I couldn't tell what dial they were talking about. I brought the machine to my dining room table where the light is excellent and gave up after 3 or 4 tries. It sat there for a month. Yesterday, I got the tension and stitch right. A small ephiphany.


But, I'm not abandoning my reliable straight stitcher Singer that I hauled out of storage to use while the fancy machine took up space in the dining room. I'm going to keep it on my sewing table, JUST IN CASE.  It yanks your arm out of its socket when you lift it, but it isn't smarter than me. Read: simple.  (That probably describes me, too.)


I had new gutter guards professionally installed so I don't have to climb on the roof and clean gutters anymore. The company has returned five times because there is a leak in front of my door. I called the owner and he came to fix it. Well, the rain is gone for now, the whole deck is dry this morning except for that spot in front of my front door. I'm about ready to diss this company. There wasn't a leak before they cleaned my gutters and installed their system. If Jim were here, he'd be down to their office in a heartbeat. I might do the same come Monday since I have to go to Sonora for new tires.

I'm working on my book a bit each morning as I try and limit my on-line time to two hours a day.
I hope we get the rest of the rain we've been promised.

RAINY DAY AT FORT WORDEN.

Fort Worden has two campgrounds and we chose the beach area. These trees were silhouetted against a cloudy sky.
It is easy to see which way the wind blows. Rain was in the forecast. We set up camp and decided to walk to the two science museums on the grounds.

On the way, we stopped at this little free library.  We just turned in bags of books at our last campground, so I had none to trade. We continued to the science museums and both were closed. They begin their winter hours after Labor Day. We got caught in the rain and had to run for the motorhome. Our wet clothes were set to dry while we had dinner.

The storm lasted about an hour and we took the opportunity to walk the beach. A distant light house beckoned. In places we had to climb over rocks to escape the incoming tide.

We talked to two women from Pullman,WA who were gathering beach shells and glass in the surf. We peeked into their buckets and admired their pretties.  They wore simple sweatshirts during weather I found brutally cold with wind enough to knock you over.  I met a fellow from my part of Michigan who wore a simple long-sleeved shirt and remarked at how nice the weather is here. I told him I'd never leave California for Michigan despite my roots.

After we'd passed them, one woman came back and offered to share some of her beach glass with me. Wasn't that sweet? I declined since we have jars of beach stones and glass from other beaches we've visited, particularly the Glass Beach in California that was once a dump.

Besides, the beach was strewn with rocks and and shells at the tide line.

Close to the lighthouse, someone spent time balancing rocks called cairns. Most make it five stones high. Some go six and seven.

I put together a seven, then the rock toppled and I couldn't retrieve it, so I settled for a six.

The lighthouse was built in 1913, one hundred one years old. So important in their time. No visitors.

Past the lighthouse, we got up on the breakwater and walked.

Driftwood, sometimes whole trees, enough to build a house

It ages so beautifully.

We watched six fishermen with fly rods where the breakwater began to peter out.

We met an honest fisherman. He said he is going for fish and chips at a local restaurant.

Wives waiting on the beach with their blue-eyed Australian Shepherd. They said the salmon season is just starting and only a certain kind of salmon can be taken. They were unsure, but think that if it is a king salmon, they have to throw it back. They can take silvers.

We returned to the motor home just before the second storm hit. It rocked the motorhome, threatened to tear off the vents and our closed awning, and blew and rattled everything that moved along with heavy rains. I stowed our ground rug under the motorhome because the wind was folding it and moving it from its appointed spot. We have yet to check and see if we still have a rug.

FOOD LOUISIANE, PARADE, BANDS, FUN.

The city puts on a dinner called Taste de la Louisiane.  The idea is to give tourists an idea what Louisiana cuisine is all about. we were in-line with Carla and Mitch, and we had dinner together. Mitch likes the idea of traveling in a motor home, so we filled him in.

The offering, if I can remember them all from top left to right, jambalaya, gumbo ,spicy okra, coleslaw, red beans & rice, etouffee, tomato shrimp, corn machow. I'm not sure I've got the names right. Then king cake and bread pudding for dessert. The gumbo was delcious but we thought the gumbo cook off was a better introduction to Cajun food and people  here,  and much more fun.

The big room at the Civic Center was filled with activities for children. We took a sweep through there, face painting, a bounce house, many games like ring toss, and hoops.

The kids were also entertained by various costumed characters like Shrek, Mickey and Minnie Mouse with whom they can have their pictures taken. Lake Charles does a lot for kids over Mardi Gras.

Jim mentioned when we wandered into the room, "Hey, this band is better than the two we heard yesterday."  And the two we heard yesterday were good, but these guys were better. A down home style that we associate with Cajun country music we like.

We spotted a costumed Eva Gidlow, center, who turned out to be an events  promoter for Lake Charles. Jim asked her how we could find some French people?  She was quick to get us acquainted with Renola Simon, on the left. Renola invited us to ride on the French float on Fat Tuesday. We were overwhelmed at such a special invitation. As for French people?  There were plenty of them.

The two women on the right, (it was loud and I couldn't get there names) are members of a very active Cajun Dance group that travels all over. Their purpose is to preserve Cajun Music and Dance. They have a membership of 2000 families in 7 Chapters in Louisiana.

Their official title means The Good Time dancers Assn. of French Cajun Music Lake Charles Chapter. Isn't that amazing?  We talked about our mutual French heritage, how my grandparents wanted to assimilate and wouldn't teach my mother, aunts and uncles French, nor we grandchildren. They, being Acadians, were punished for speaking French in school and made to feel inferior. We blogged about that subject  in some depth in 2010.

Then, she introduced us to 82 year old Lesa Cormier, whose father was a founding member of the Sun Down Playboys. He still plays. His grandson plays bass. His son plays with a different band. There were two players missing on this day, but I took pictures of them all. Only two original members of the band remain. They are one of the oldest Cajun Bands in the state of Louisiana, still playing music after 64 years. In fact, Eva told us, Lesa  sent a pressing of a their music to the Beatles Apple Records and they liked it and promoted his music. He gave us one of his CD's.  You can read more about them at this address:
 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Sundown_Playboys


We so enjoyed August Broussard's accordian and singing.

And, Red Touchet playing fiddle. Too fun.

I think this is Leesa's grandson.

I just don't know who is who. All I can be sure of is they are a great band.

Let the good times roll!!

We waited for the Children's Parade. Just before the floats began to roll, it started to pour down and rain, and rain, and rain. These two ladies are sisters. The woman on the left was my favorite dancer, with her twin sister in yesterday's blog. I didn't know they were sisters at the time. The sister on the right said to me, "We're six girls and everyone of us has gray hair. I'm only 50 years old."
This is the twin sisters. They danced throughout the parade in between floats, in the rain, and while the floats were throwing goodies. I never saw such fun. They were born of a family of 12. (I hope I've got my information right.)

The floats were fun, and wet. They threw candy, beads, cups, stuffed animals, plastic coins, and various trinkets.

As we got wetter and wetter, Jim kept asking, "Are we having fun yet?"

While I tried to take pictures and catch beads, the sisters would give the best ones to me. They filled me up with cups, coins, beads and stuffed animals. They were so much fun, generous and I didn't even get their names. I didn't have a hand free to write them down. I hope they read the blog and correct any errors.

Home, drenched to the gills; purse and everything in it. All of our clothes. I spread the beads out to dry in the Bronco windshield and steering wheel. There was no place to lay them.
We had clothing hanging from the cutting board, the visor, the steering wheel, the backs of the seats...

The heater was on all night trying to dry things with a huge thunder storm roaring outside. In fact, the signal was down for about three hours this morning, which is why we are so late to blog today. When life is wet, we still have fun.

SAM HOUSTON JONES STATE PARK.

We arrived at Sam Houston Jones yesterday mid-morning in a slight rain. The first critter we encountered was a mosquito with a bunch of relatives. I’m lucky in that they don’t bite me, or if they do, I don’t feel it or know it. But, I’m never sure. Are Louisiana mosquitoes different?  The campgrounds are located next to this cypress swamp, so we know we are going to be buddies every day.

The park added shelters around the swamp for bats. Smart move!

The swamp is covered with some pretty green plant I’m unfamiliar with.

In the shallows near a cluster of cypress knobs, another bright green water plant I’ve bought in a pet store when I was still trying to raise gold fish in an outdoor pond.

It’s nice to see a healthy cypress swamp. These cypress are young and have made a comeback from the early days when lumbermen cut every tree. They regenerate from the knobs that come up from roots. At the park, they will never be lumbered to death again.

The park is also surrounded by a river on its south end.
The rain came back in earnest and we cut short our walk.

We had a short opportunity to get out and see the park. It is from here we will motor into Lake Charles for Mardi Gras over the next few days. Lake Charles has the second largest Mardi Gras Celebration in the states, second only to New Orleans. We’ll keep you posted.