My Summer Vacation

This past summer I didn't...
Paint my toenails red,
I didn't laze around in bed.
This summer I didn't
Run a marathon,
I didn't even re-seed the lawn.
I failed to have coffee beside the Nile;
Not a soul in Peru saw my smile.
I didn't dance the tango
beneath the stars,
or mop the deck of a pirate ship
flying to mars.
If you were in England having tea,
there is no possible way that
you would have seen me.
I wasn't at the circus, the zoo or the fair.
I didn't have Elvis' barber cut my hair.
Summer is over,
Fall winds are blowing;
I'm daydreaming about all the places
I'm not going.

Blowin' in the Wind

Every year for a week in late August, the skies over Long Beach, Washington fill with flying sea creatures, pirates, UFO's, dragon's, and an unimaginable number of other colorful kites.


"Starting on Monday and ending on Sunday this Long Beach, Washington State vacation extravaganza boasts skies ablaze with color, highflying action and choreographed movement. Washington’s Kite Festival draws famous kite fliers from all around the world, and tens of thousands awed spectators, many of which participate in the fun with their own kite flying adventures." (From the kite festival website)


Riff was able to make it home this weekend, and even though he has to drive 8 hours home now, then 8 hours back to work on Sunday, he knew that I needed to get away for a few hours, so the two of us (yes, we actually got to spend some time together alone!), crossed the bridge to Washington. What an absolutely beautiful day it was for enjoying the kites on the beach.


This is the second time we've come up for the kite festival and it was just as jaw-dropping as the first time. You would be amazed at the shear number of kites in the air. Not only are there hundreds from the competitors, but many of the spectators are flying kites as well. So fun to watch. Next year, we're going to actually plan ahead, bring some chairs, a cooler, a good book, and a couple of kites, make a day of it.
This year we sat in the sand on the dunes and watched some of the Ballet competition. It's so incredible what these flyers can do with their kites. Beautiful stuff!


On the walk through the arch and to the beach, vendors are set up with all kinds of fun things to buy and incredible things to eat. I had a corn dog that tasted just like the fair. There were snowcones, elephant ears, cotton candy, handmade fudge, ice cream, Thai food, pulled pork, fajitas, hot dogs, polish sausages, burgers and curly fries to name a few. A fun, circus like atmosphere fills the air along with the gorgeous kites. It was a wonderful way to spend a beautiful August afternoon.

Apron Goddess Giveaway

The Apron Goddess is hosting a giveaway! From that site you follow the link to Momomadeit's etsy shop and pick your favorite apron out of her too-die-for-way-too-cute aprons, then leave a comment on the Apron Goddess site as to which is your favorite. Your now entered into the drawing, just that simple. If you want more chances to win, make sure you read the entire post to find out how to get more entries. Hurry up! Head on over to be entered in the giveaway!

That gorgeous apron above is my pick. It's called the Flirty Everyday Housewife Apron and it's done in Sandy Gervais' "Pumpkins Gone Wild" print. Mmmmmm......Love it!

Morning Symphony

black old english bantam rooster crowing
Originally uploaded by nenmcn06

They quietly shuffle in, careful in this pre-dawn hour to not wake the other inhabitants of the farm to soon. Each glossy rooster, feathers in place, takes his place, strategically placed around the farmyard for optimum acoustics's. One red bantam sits high atop the cupola, another on a branch of the pine tree in the farmhouse yard. A white leghorn, the tenor of the group, is placed on the sheep yard fence, while his buddy takes his spot by the tractor shed. The rest of the orchestra is scattered around the farm, down by the creek, over in the cow pasture, a couple in the wheat field and a few in the vineyard.

The black bantam conductor raises his tiny wand, set to get the show started at precisely 4:30 am. A chicken toe starts to tap out the countdown - one, two and a small flick of the conductors stick has the first sounds slowly and quietly starting from the rooster in the back forty - rrrrRRrrrrRRRRRR is quietly heard. The others start to join in, timed and practiced so well that not a sound is heard out of time or rhythm.

Slowly the morning symphony starts to penetrate the tired brains of the human inhabitants of the farm. First filtering into their dreams, until finally a weary hand reaches up to rub the sleep out of a tired eye. Someone shuffles down the back stairs and into the kitchen. Soon the aroma of coffee brewing wafts gently out the front door, mixing with the early morning scents of the farm.

With head cocked to capture the first movements of the day, the banty conductor slows the tempo until the last sounds of the symphony ring out through the lightning sky. "Okay fellows, wrap it up. Good job today, Lads. Good job!"

Mr. Abominable

Mr. Abomible
Originally uploaded by paulaniz67

Mr. Abomible Snowman seems to want to go farther north, back to the land of cold and snow where he came from. I'm in love with his frowny face and want him to stick around just a little while more. Is that to much to ask? I think not.

I got the pattern for Mr. Adorable on etsy a while back and finally decided it was time for this little man to come alive. There are more to come, a whole plethera of snowmen will come off my needles, the next one will have blue merino wool in place of the creamy colored. I sure hope they get along. I really don't want any snowman fights in my craft room. Too cold for me. Brrrrr......

5 Generations

Five generations, and it all started 70 years ago when Grandma and Grandpa tied the knot in a small church in Wallowa, Oregon. Their lives have taken them from living in a logging camp as young parents, to Grandpa's days as a mechanic in both Oregon and Alaska, to working in a sawmill, to their many years as commercial fisherman aboard their boat the Anne Marie in Alaskan waters, to their retirement back in Oregon in the summers and snowbirding to California and Nevada in the winters. The stories those two can tell are endless and very interesting. 70 years is a milestone that most couples never reach. What an accomplishment and such a day to celebrate. Congratulations Grandma and Grandpa. We love you guys!
(Pictured: Front Al & Shirley Sannar. Back: Me, Brittany, Noah, and my Dad, Tom Sannar)


Here we are, the six Sannar kids, all together again for the first time in, I think, 7 years. Susan, Stacey, Me, Todd, Joshua, and Tommy. A bit of a rowdy bunch.


Todd started it. He always does! He's the bad one, it really was not my fault at all. No, Mom, really, he told me too....

You Have Got To Be Kidding

110 degree's is roasting in any circumstances, but when you are driving through the Columbia River Gorge on a sweltering late July day and your air-condition refuses to work, it is even worse. Hot pavement and hot engines raise that temp even more. This past weekend we headed over to Pendleton for my grandparents 70th wedding anniversary. Brittany and Noah were flying in, so we had to stop in Portland to pick them up. Four people and a little guy in a car seat, along with luggage, would just be way to crowded in my little Suzuki, so Shilo decided to drive her own car. She's been wanting to venture out on a road trip and thought this was the perfect chance to do it and not actually be alone on her first one. Good thinking, Milo! I hadn't thought to ask her if her air-conditioning was working, which it was not. E-Gads! A few extra stops were in order for ice cold drinks and a bit of cooling off.
Arlington, Oregon is a small town right on the banks of the Columbia River. They have a beautiful little park with a roped off swimming area and cool green grass where Noah could stretch his little legs. I thought that a bit of wading was in order, the perfect chance for a quick cool-down.




Deeper...

and deeper they go...

until at last, deep as they can go without crossing the pool rope, Shilo, Dustin and Toby splash and carry -on. "Come on, let's go now", yells Mom from her calf-deep wading. The kids and dog splash to shore.

Dustin and Toby wade in...

Shilo comes in last, at which time she begins digging in her pockets. "Where are my keys?", her voice shrill and worried.
"Well, where did you put them?"
"They were in my back pocket."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, because they were irritating me!"
"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING?! You don't leave your keys in your pocket when you're swimming!"
"I wasn't going to go in all the way, but then I did." (I guess in 110 degree weather, people sometimes lose their mind.)
"Guess you need to dive in and start looking." Which she did while Dustin searched her car and I went to the gas station across the street to check. No luck. After an hour of diving and feeling with feet, still no luck. There happens to be several inches of sand in the river at this spot. Those keys may surface sometime, in 100 years or so. Riff was on his way up from his job down out of Bend. He had been about 2 hours behind us, which we had managed to whittle down to an hour now, so I gave him a ring and ask, rather politely, if he could stop by Arlington and rescue his stranded daughter. No prob, Bob! (Of course, after he got the "You have got to be kidding?!" statement out of the way)
Shilo has a spare key, she's just not sure where it is, so Riff called Kevin, who had stayed in Astoria. He went over to her apartment and found the key with no problem. On Sunday, when we were heading home, Kevin drove to The Dalles with the key; we met him there, then turned back around for Arlington, where, thank heavens, the car started right up. We weren't actually sure if it was the right key or not until the moment that the engine turned over. Lesson learned, I hope.


Little man standing on the edge, wishing and wishing that he could go in as deep as his auntie and uncle, until he discovered all the mud-pies right under his silly little toes.

Puppies need to cool off too! Actually Toby didn't really want to go for a swim but just couldn't stand it that his Shilo was out there in that water.

Our Hero! Papa showed up to rescue the stranded travelers. Noah ran to greet him at the steps, then lead the way to where the rest of us were hanging out on the cool grass.

We transfered all of the crap from Shilo's car into the suburban, let the people at the Shell station, who also run the local tow-truck, that we'd be back in a day or two to deal with the Gumby (Shilo's nickname for her car), and off we went to celebrate 70 years of wedded bliss with my Grandparents. One drama quite over for the day.

There is always something happening when you hang with us. Calm and cool we are not.

The Wind in the Willows

"The Mole had been working hard all the morning, spring-cleaning his little home. First with brooms, then with dusters; then on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pail of whitewash; till he had dust in his throat and eyes, and splashes of whitewash all over his black fur, and an aching back and weary arms. Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below, around even his dark and lowly little house, and suddenly he flung down his brush, said "Bother!" and "O blow!" and also "Hang spring-cleaning!" and bolted out of the house without even waiting to put on his coat. Making for the steep tunnel which answered in his case to the gravelled drive owned by animals whose residences are nearer to the sun and air, he scraped and scratched and scrabbled and scrooged, then he scrooged again and scrabbled and scraped, muttering, "Up we go! Up we go!" till at last...pop! his snout came out into the sunlight, and he found himself rolling in the warm grass of a great meadow. "
And thus begin 'The Wind in the Willows' by Kenneth Grahame.

Turn the Page Tuesday is hosted by Adrienne of Some of a Kind on the first Tuesday of every month. For July, Adrienne challenged us to read a classic of some sort. As I love the read one of the classics every now and again, this proved to be absolutely no problem for me. I actually had several on my "un-read" shelves to choose from. My brother, Joshua, had stayed with us for a time last spring and early summer. He is a book lover as well and during the course of his visit, he made several trips into the city, always with a stop at Powell's Books. On one of those trips, Joshua brought me back this beautiful version of The Wind in the Willows, which has been sitting here, beckoning to me since. Now, we have all, at some time or another, read pieces and parts of this classic children's story, but until now, I had never read the entire thing and what a story it is. Boy did I enjoy this and I am here to tell you that it is full of very adult issues, and sometimes even language.
I was surprised, and laughed right out loud, the first time I ran across the phrase silly ass in this story. In the first chapter, The River, Mole has dug his way from underground, as you have just read, to enjoy a moment or two in the fresh spring air. He goes for a walk and suddenly finds himself on the banks of a river where he meets a fellow by the name of Water Rat, or Ratty to his friends. Ratty invites Mole to partake in a picnic lunch with him and a leisurely cruise down the river on his boat. Mole happily agrees, but in no time gets a bit jealous of Ratty's rowing skills and decides to take over the oars while Ratty's attention is elsewhere, which results in the picnic basket and two friends being unceremoniously dumped into the drink. "Stop it, you silly ass!" cried the Rat from the bottom of the boat. "You'll have us over!" This is what Water Rat yelled at Mole in the moments of the struggle over the oars. I hee-hawed over that phrasing being in a children's book and was even more surprised to find it a handful more times throughout the adventures of these animal friends. Quite amusing.

During the course of this read, you will travel through some car theft, prison time, an escape from said prison, horse theft, squatters taking over Toad Hall, intervention, withdrawals, the planning of retaliation and more. It is such a fun read, and really so fresh for having been written in 1908. I absolutely love this edition and urge you to read it if you have not.

Don't forget to pop over to Some of a Kind to find out what every one else read this month.

Until next time, happy reading, and don't be such a silly ass!