What I Did on Summer Vacation

I hope this post finds you well.  It's been awhile since I checked in on you.  Almost three months since my last post.  Where have I been?  I'd like to report that I got a job.  A wonderful job doing what I love to do, working with people who are happy and smart and nice to each other.  Comfortable atmosphere, giant paychecks, fantastic benefits.  I'd like to report that, but I figure if you wanted to hear lies you'd go ask your kids if their rooms were clean.  Instead, you're reading a blog.  So truth is I have no job.  This Sunday, I again will be telling the Oregon Unemployment Insurance folks "No-no-no-no-yes-yes-yes-no".  For those of you who have never filed a claim, that's the secret password that unlocks the magic vault.  My check will remain there, lifeless, for three days.  But on the third day it will be resurrected and ascend to my bank.  Every Wednesday, Easter Wednesday.  I never actually get to see the money, but my bank says that's what happens.  The lights are on here so the PUD must be getting paid and Safeway gives me groceries when I tell the magic grocery money machine another secret password.  That's enough evidence for me.  I have faith.

Where I've been isn't at my new job.  Where I've been is outside, making hay.  And by hay I mean other stuff that isn't hay at all.  I've been painting, sewing, designing, building, creating.  Outside.  While the sun shines.  Furniture is my latest creation kick.  The photos are a sampling of my wares.   All of the materials I use are salvaged, second hand, or otherwise rescued.   Old fence boards headed to the dump, garage sale lawnchair webbing, granny's old fabric stash, builder leftovers from ReStore, etc.  I loved building these things, but if you'd love having any of them, let me know. I'd love to make you a deal.  If they all sit here, I won't have a reason to make more.


Besides nurturing my creative itch here at the river (and here I thought it was fleas), I've been hanging out a bit up in my hometown Kelso.  Stompin' around on my old stompin' grounds Beacon Hill.  Two lovely old friends I haven't seen near enough of in the last 16 years, Dick and Sandy Sundquist, were just crazy enough to let me come up with my collection of hammers and start pounding on their house.  "Do whatever you want" they say.  Love those guys.  I'll have to give you a tour of the results in a post or two.  

I'd love to stay and chat, but the sun is out and I have some hay to tend to.

                                                      xo-Spring