All the purty posies

Annie gave us this rose bush July 1, 2006, when we moved to the Lovestead.

The bush blooms prettier and longer every summer.

With its first buds popping out this week, I thought it would be nice for Annie to see that we appreciate its show every year and look forward to many, many seasons and beautiful blooms like this to come.

The flowers continue to take my breath away almost every day.

So, of course, I grab my camera and have fun taking their pictures.

Enjoy!

Daisy Ma and Li'l Daisy

Lotta "love" decisions here.

Time to smell the roses

An afternoon in the meadows

Boulder Meadows abounds with violets and other wildflowers.

It's also a peaceful and serene place to spent time.

We did just that yesterday afternoon and had another memorable time of our lives.

Kiwi pausing to admire the beauty.

Ha ha! I lie!

Kiwi posing while I snap the beauty.

Typical scene in the meadows

Meadow art

Outdoor Heaven east of Naples

Meeting in the meadows

Angler and his loyal assistant

Butterfly among the boulders

A typical creek scene at Boulder Meadows

Taking a break.

These folks are involved in the Heart Cry Recovery program, based in Bonners Ferry.

Clients sign on for 42 days spent in the wilderness, learning how to make positive life changes and to survive.

Lots of hiking, including some solos and a 20-plus mile night hike, can bring on some new attitudes.

I enjoyed visiting with them while Bill and Kiwi did their fly fishing.

Wilderness counseling session in Boulder Meadows.

Heart Cry Recovery counselor visits the field.

We enjoyed ourselves so much that we were shocked to learn it was already after 6 p.m. when we decided to head home.

So, I snapped one last shot: Bill, Barbara, Pita, Laurie and Mother.

Boulder Meadows Day

We're going to Boulder Meadows this afternoon. While eating dinner and watching the news last night, Bill said, "Every year since we've moved to Selle, we've gone to Boulder Meadows. Do you want to go tomorrow?"

"Yes," I said without hesitation.

Last year we visited Boulder Meadows in late June; the year before, in July. Our visit last year, with our daughter Annie and the Border Collies along, was highlighted by the moment when we almost stepped on a new baby fawn, obediently lying motionless in the deep green grass. We stayed our distance but took photos and then left it alone.

We'll never forget our brief visit two years ago when we took fishing poles, rode our bikes from the parking area and did a little fishing in the stream that runs through the meadows. Suddenly, Bill noted that it looked like a storm was coming. By the time we scurried out of there, rode our bikes a mile through a wild rain, thunder and lightning storm and arrived at the pickup still alive, we figured we'd been on a big life adventure.

Little did we know that we had just finished the first segment of a crazy evening. After sawing through about a dozen fallen trees blocking the road on the way back, we realized that this little storm was pretty major and widespread. Stories abounded of the wild and woolly events that happened from Coeur d'Alene to the Canadian border during that few hours of crazy weather.

I don't think we'll encounter storms today. I can't say if we'll see any baby fawns, but I do know that we can once again be taken aback with the sheer beauty of the spot in the mountains east of Naples that I saw for the first time on the back of my horse Tiny decades ago. We were on a Gold 'n Grouse 4-H Club trail ride, and after coming over the hill into the meadows after a long day's ride, I thought it was one of the prettiest places I'd ever seen.

We spent the night there, and many, many people have done so since. The place has a nice horse set-up and outdoor johns, so it's a favorite spot for horseback riders and for hikers. Plus, there's a geocache there, put out by you know who.

Some day I'd like to ride from Grouse Creek into the meadows and spend another night like we did so long ago with that 4-H group. And, from the looks of this week's experiences with Lily, I'd say that may not be a pipe dream. She's turning out to be a horse beyond my wildest expectations.

I took her out again last night and again came home with a big satisfied smile on my face. Not only was it a beautiful summer night for a ride, but Lily also achieved another milestone in her young life as an all-around horse. Last night's moment came after we'd visited briefly with Mark Plaster who was leading his horse home from Roxane Conrad's place.

After we talked horses and Lily stood quietly the whole time (big change for her), we mosied on down Forest Siding Road. I hadn't thought about the railroad tracks until we were within a few feet of them. Then, I remembered the day Annie took Casey out for his first road trip several years ago.

He had just been shod with his first pair of shoes. The Neher sisters came by, so Annie joined them. A few minutes later, as I watched down the road, I realized that they had not rounded the bend onto Gooby Road where the Nehers kept their horses. I went to the end of our driveway and saw Annie standing with Casey in the middle of the road at the railroad crossing.

I jumped in the car, and as I got closer, I could see that she was crying and Casey wasn't moving. While the young horse crossed the tracks, BOTH of his front feet had slipped into the small space between the rail and the tie. It had to be a freak accident, but in both cases, he could not pull his feet out. He was stuck.

Long story short, the railroad was notified, and they did arrange for trains to stop. A vet came, several other people, including railroad workers, came and eventually with big crowbars and sedatives to calm Casey, they pried him out of his predicament.

That moment came flashing back as I eyed those railroad tracks last night; plus, the thought that Lily had brand-new shoes, just nailed on Friday, added to the drama. Fortunately, however, the railroad has since modified its crossings so that situations like Casey's misfortune would probably be impossible.

It took us some time, but after continued encouragement, turning in a few circles and a few taps on the rear when Lily resisted, she finally felt comfortable enough to walk over the crossing. She received some enthusiastic praise afterward, and when we came back, all it took was a quick sniff and over the crossing she plodded.

These are small victories, but in the grand scheme of things with horseback riding, they signal good times ahead for Lily and me as we become more involved in backwoods trail rides. She has a lot of common sense, and my confidence in her just keeps soaring.

Some day we'll go to Boulder Meadows. I'll ride around the meadows while Bill fishes, and it will be another momentous event in what's becoming an annual tradition.

Happy Sunday.

Saturday Slight

I don't know if this morning's local news could be considered historic, but it's welcome. NICAN, the group who has for several years opposed and used legal measures against the Sandpoint Byway/Bypass, has decided not to pursue the issue anymore.

With nearly eight months of construction activity both north and south of Sandpoint, I wasn't holding my breath in fear of the project being shut down. Still, it's nice to see that the construction can go forward without fear of legal obstacles.

Like any construction, the project has caused frustration, but as I've seen throughout my lifetime, the end result usually erases most of that. I can remember driving to school when Division Street was being redone. It was a pain to have to go the back streets for several months, but when the street was completed, the drive to work became more pleasurable than ever.

I'm sure that same will happen for Sandpoint in general once the Byway/Bypass is completed. For now, we have to plan to be frustrated and work around the problems.

~~~~~~~

We went to a Kalispel encampment east of Clark Fork last night. It was at the Diamond T Ranch, which was a spot where many of us gathered for years for teacher social events. At the time Byron and Myra Lewis owned the beautiful large acreage on the Clark Fork River. We had potlucks. We did snowmobiling. We cross country skied, and we just plain enjoyed the setting and the people who lived there.

Last night we enjoyed another evening of a different kind. My sisters have been taking a course focusing on David Thompson, the Canadian mapmaker who set up a trading post at Hope in 1809. It has involved talks about fur trading, Kalispel culture and David Thompson and his crew. They've also engaged in learning some crafts.

Last night Francis Callooyah, cultural leader of the Kalispel, hosted a special program of drumming, singing and dancing. About 75 people gathered to listen, watch and even participate in the dance circle. As always, it was stirring and emotional and poignant, especially because of the beautiful setting with the Cabinet Mountains in the background.

I've attended several similar events over the years and continue to be awestruck and moved by the simplicity, deep feelings and beauty of the cherished tribal rituals.

~~~~~~
It took only a screw. A free one at that. I'm feeling so good today that I did not have to call Tony, the repairman, after all for my rototiller. He sold me a rebuilt Troy Bilt a couple of years ago. When it works, it's a dream, but it's had sensitivities about starting. Tony's worked with it a couple of times to try to get it to be more willing to take off.

I had it going earlier this spring and was happy to be marching through the garden dirt as the rototiller broke up the clods and sifted them into plantable soil. One day, however, it quit working, and I discovered that half the housing was about to fall off because of a loose screw.

Bill went out and figured out how to tighten up the screw, which was in a hard-to-get place. So, I was back in business until the machine vibrated so much that said screw fell out and disappeared into the dirt. It looked like a very specialized screw because of its head.

So, we both agreed it would be hard to find a replacement. I kept thinking I needed to call Tony but didn't want to pay another $50 for him to come. Somehow garden food tends to get really expensive if you're paying out for repairs all the time. Yesterday I went down to Co-Op and selected three screws of different kinds that might work.

When I tried to pay, the clerk said, "Take 'em. If they don't work, throw them away." So, I brought them home, got my glasses and a couple of Bill's wrenches and went to work on the impossibile. The story has a happy ending because I didn't throw anything. I didn't cuss, and I actually fixed the rototiller----with the first screw, no less.

When it started up, I couldn't believe it, and I wasted no time getting it to the garden where it worked like a charm.

I tell this story because more often than not, my fix-it jobs are disasters. And, to have a success without spending a dime makes my day.

~~~~~~~
Gotta get out there and water that garden, so that's all for now.

Happy Saturday.

Life moves on, and the Hoot Owl rules!

Well, it was a fabulous birthday week----definitely a pleasant way to turn 62. It started with one of the most fun weekends I've experienced in years with Annie in Seattle. It continued on with oodles of fun notes on Facebook and ended definitely good to the last bite of cake at the Hoot Owl last night.

Yes, when Bill asked me if I wanted to go to dinner yesterday morning, I said, "Well, if we do, I'd like to go to the Hoot Owl."

The restaurant, perennially touted on everyone's list of favorites--where you get the most and the best food for your buck--recently extended its schedule to include dinner five nights a week.

I was kinda wishing my birthday would have been on a Friday because one of the highlights of their dinner schedule is prime rib on Fridays and Saturday nights.

Maybe next week, our Friday night out will be a repeat visit to Wendy and Jeff Sater's popular establishment in Ponderay. Not only do I like the Hoot Owl (even have given graduation gift certificates to the place), but I love its owners. Wendy Hanson Sater was one of my English students a few years back.

And, Jeff---well I've known him for years, but the most endearing moment of my friendship with Jeff came more than 30 years ago when he and Bill Chambers drove into our driveway one afternoon. It was my birthday. They got out of the car, sporting big smiles, and brought me two quaintly wrapped presents, i.e., mixture of wrapping paper.

In one box was an old lamp, which didn't work. I could tell that right away without even plugging it in---'twas the most pathetic lamp I'd ever seen.

The other box held another gem----an ugly yellow candle, covered with lint. Seems the candle was one that Bill Chambers' little brother Robby had crafted in fourth grade. And, for some unknown reason, the family did not value his artistry enough to keep it.

Instead, they thought that I needed it. Well, that candle went on to be the centerpiece of many, many fun stories over the next several decades. It was given back to the Chambers and given back to me and given back, etc., always in different form. One time it had even turned brown and round, to resemble a fresh cow plop.

Anyway, back to Jeff. He was Bill's accomplice that day, and on that day, I also learned that he shared my birthday. And, that's why I thought it appropriate to dine at the Hoot Owl last night, along with the fact that we were guaranteed a sumptuous, tasty meal. So, the family gathered there---Bill, Mother, Barbara and Laurie.

Others were gathering for Jeff's birthday celebration, so it was a festive time for all. Our meal was as delicious and filling as advertised. Mother ordered chicken fried steak, which pretty much filled her plate along with the potatoes and gravy----and that was only HALF an order of chicken fried steak. We're figuring they must need a platter to bring out the full order.

Jeff's celebration ended before we had finished, so Wendy brought over cake and ice cream for all of us. That's how Wendy is. This couple is so loved around the community because of their caring generosity and their talents as caterers and restauranteurs.

As Jeff walked out, he said he owed me one because I'd given him one of my books for his birthday. They both reminded me that Jeff's dad is still running his weekly auction at Bonners Ferry and that Jeff could probably pick up a box of stuff pretty cheap---and that it may be just as high quality as that candle and lamp from so long ago.

Well, I'll be ready and not surprised if he comes rolling into the driveway some day with some unique goodies. I'll treasure whatever it happens to be because it will symbolize a fun friendship that continues to go on for years----just as the Hoot Owl is sure to do.

Happy Friday to all, and if you're in town, go try the prime rib at the Hoot Owl (Hwy 200 in Ponderay) this weekend. Warning: if it's anything like that chicken fried steak, plan to ask for a doggie bag.

Also, thanks for the birthday wishes.

A Lily perspective

I never know what they're gonna do with me anymore.

Ever since I came home from second grade at the Spokane Equestrian Center, they've been making me do all kinds of new stuff.

Sometimes Laurie comes over in the afternoons, saddles me up, longes me in the round pen and then rides me in the barnyard.

Marianne always cranks up the Country-Western music cuz she likes to watch me trot to the beat.

I can do that better this year cuz Monte made me a believer that if you move you don't get poked or kicked so much.

He used spurs on me, and I learned right off to get a move on or he'd poke me again.

Laurie uses spurs on me too, but I've been really good and she hardly even needs to touch me anymore. I know what she wants me to do. I just didn't quite understand before.

Sometimes Marianne loads me up and takes me over to Laurie's where I have to work in the indoor arena with other horses while Barbara teaches riding lessons.

I thought that's what we were going to do last night, but after we traveled too far in the trailer and started going over a bumpy road, I could sense that something was different.

When I got out of the trailer in this big field and there was no Laurie, I knew I was in for a new adventure---my very first trail ride and all by myself, no less.

Marianne saddled me up, and Bill set up the mounting block while the dogs hid behind the pickup.

We took off across the field and then went down into an area with tall grass, lots of little ponds and a scary, shiny steel structure. I didn't want to go past it, but Marianne gently urged me on, and I found out it wasn't going to bite me.

There were birds singing and flying all over the place; after all, it's a fish and game preserve. I heard that it used to belong to the Ginter family who live up Rapid Lightning Road. That was sure nice of them to put their land in a preserve where everyone could enjoy it.

After we came back from the tall grass and started crossing the open field, I almost stepped on a big turtle. That turtle must have read Gulliver's Travels cuz it just sat there and looked back up at me.

We moved on and I walked up an old logging road where mosquitoes were flying all over the place and landing on me and biting me. I didn't like that, but I kept on moving.

Marianne was really happy with me when I walked along the sandy hillside to get around the big iron gate. She hugged me when I finally had the nerve to cross that little babbling brook. It took me a while to get up the nerve, but once I did, it wasn't so bad.

That water felt good on my feet, and I liked crossing it a second time.

It turned out to be a fun experience, and I wouldn't mind going there again.

I don't know what's in store for me today, but I can tell you that these riding adventures are turning out to be not so bad---especially cuz of all those treats they give me at the end when I've been a good horse.

This is where we went. I was really surprised when I got out of the horse trailer and we weren't at the Colburn farm.

That made me nervous, but I kinda liked the place.

Look at that hand; she's got spots just like I do, but mine are Appaloosa spots. Hers are old lady spots and a few freckles.

I was scared every time I saw something moving off in the distance, but when we walked back to Bill, who was checking out his geocache and I saw Kiwi crouching behind his legs like the coward she is, I relaxed.

She thought the scene of Pack River was pretty, but all I could think of was to poop and say, "Get me out of here."

I worried a lot about what might be lurking in that tall grass.

The sun was about to set as we came back down the trail.

Time to load up and head home.

Incognito

Ann Curtis pounded the pronunciation into our heads. It's inCOGnito, she told us. Ann Curtis was the perennial speech and English teacher in junior high. She seemed perennial anyway; in our young minds, she'd been there forever.

If Ann Curtis told you something was to be done a certain way, you performed according to her wishes. If you didn't, she would gasp out loud or give you a dose of that death-defying hate stare of hers. Every student who ever went through her ninth-grade English class remembers his diagramming. I guarantee you.

Please note that I just used the masculine pronoun in honor of Ann.

She retired long before the big and still murky debate arose on whether to use "his or her," "he/she" or "hrs." I made that last one up cuz I thought it would solve a big problem.

Anyway, back to Ann. Every student who ever went through her speech class learned Miss Curtis' "inCOGnito" pronunciation, but I must say---even nearly 50 years later, it's hard to spit out that pronunciation in a crowd cuz ya know folks are gonna look at you and spit out, "Say what?"

Still, the meaning of the word is fairly universal, and I couldn't help but think of Ann this morning when I read yet another story about the South Carolina governor who "went missing." (Ann would cringe at that one, just like I do. I wonder how you diagram it).

Now they're saying that the governor flew to Argentina for an exotic vacation rather than the aforementioned alleged hike on the Appalachian Trail. He wasn't supposed to do either----without telling someone, that is.

Therein lies his sin.

The world was supposed to know where a governor---who had had it up to here and wanted to get away where nobody knew him---went to sort out his mind. It's turned into a semi-scandal, especially now that he really went to Argentina rather than hiking, which was first reported when everyone in the world (well, maybe a few people of the opposite party in South Carolina) suddenly wanted to know where the governor was.

I know I'm wrong, but I think this story ranks right up there with the fly-swatting incident that took the big headlines last week. Doesn't any human being---especially those in the public spotlight---have the right any more to steal a few private moments away from the day-to-day boiling pot?

I think it was nice the governor could go to Argentina to get away from it all and to live a few hours of being inCOGnito. Did the world stop spinning because of his absence? I don't think so. Did South Carolina fall off into the Atlantic Ocean? Nope.

The guy needed a break. Give him that. And, while doing so, mind your own business about business that is really earth shattering.

Nobody complains when Presidents disappear from the proposed travel itinerary and suddenly show up at a Thanksgiving dinner for soldiers in Iraq. Why should it be such a big deal where a governor goes for temporary inGOGnitability?

If this had not turned into a big news event, he probably would have returned to South Carolina, refreshed and re-energized to take on the next set of governing problems. Now that the media and the gossip mongers have grabbed the story, however, the poor guy's gonna never get to take a break again until he gets voted out of office for visiting a country that might cry for him.

Last weekend I was sitting on a sidewalk curb in Seattle watching the crazy and wacky Fremont Fair Parade. There were tons of people there but not one soul I knew except for my daughter and her friends. It was nice.

It was especially nice when the parade noise was suddenly overtaken by the loud and somewhat obnoxious voice of some guy behind us talking on his cell phone, giving play-by-play coverage of the parade to someone who had apparently not attended a parade of such magnitude.

As he droned on, loudly, our attention turned to the rear. I never did see the guy, but I saw his wife looking around like she'd like to become inCOGnito. Then, I couldn't resist. I yelled back his direction, "Do you have any more to add? Can we comment?"

Shortly thereafter, I heard my daughter say to one of her friends who had gotten a chuckle out of my intervention with said cell phone addict, "Well, at least she can go home." She was referring to the fact that nobody knew me in that crowd, and I could get away with my commentary of the commentator.

It was kind of fun. Yup, rather than the usual familiarity, I was just an anonymous voice in the crowd, and it provided a nice break from the usual, when you live in a small town where "everyone knows your name."

So, I believe in people getting to go inCOGnito or to "go missing," whether it's to Seattle or up the Appalachian Trail or to Argentina. Everyone needs a breather. Let's grant the South Carolina governor his and get on with the important matters of the world, like fly swatters.

And, I'm sure this morning that Ann Curtis would be proud of me cuz I said it right all through the post.

Update: Oops, silly me. The third story about the governor has now made new and different headlines, and I learn that my assumptions were much too innocent. Seems he had good reason to divert attention as to his whereabouts. Now we know THE REST OF THE STORY.

Tuesday Twitterdeedum

Bill took off early this morning---riding his bicycle. I think this is the first time he's ridden it to work since we moved out here almost three years ago. Over the weekend, he had some maintenance done and brought home a new streamlined helmet.

He'll be putting in about 25 miles a day as often as possible to get in shape for climbing Mt. St. Helens in July with Annie. That will be a dad-daughter (maybe son) adventure. I decided a while back to stay home and watch the place while he's gone, just as he did for me this past weekend.

I'm sure they'll have a wonderful time, and it will be made more wonderful by the absence of a whiner when it comes to going straight up and straight down. There's no point in making their lives miserable if I can pretty much predict that I would be miserable, so we'll all be happy enjoying our individual comfort zones.

Besides, it will be fun to hear about the adventure and see it documented with Annie's photography. Speaking of which, for anyone who wants to see some sample of her talents, along with some of the zany, off-the-wall action at the Fremont Fair Parade, you can view her collection of photos at http://www.flickr.com/photos/nnlove/sets/72157619938453363/.

Any nakedness aside, she snapped some very artful photos.

~~~~~~~
We have an aggressive deer. We think she's the same one who's inhabited our place for the past couple of years. So far in the past month, she's chased Kea out of the woods twice. I saw her in action up close and personal a couple of weeks ago while checking a fenceline along the south side of the woods.

Suddenly, I heard Kea bark that shrill yap, yap reserved for intruders. Suddenly the tables must have turned there in the clumb of trees cuz first came Kea on a dead run and soon, the deer in hot pursuit. I ran behind a tree.

I don't know if she was scared of me or if she decided she'd made her statement, but thankfully, she bolted back into the trees where apparently she had recently given birth to this year's baby.

She made a believer out of me and Kea---for a time.

On Friday, once again, Kea had to take flight when she, Kiwi, Annie Dog and Bill headed for the far end of the woods, with Bill driving the 4-wheeler. Bill said that doe meant business when he saw her take after Kea. He worried about her chasing Annie Dog, since she's about 13 and can't run as fast as the Border Collies.

Fortunately, the deer kept Kea in her headlights and followed her back toward the house where Laurie was riding Lily in the barnyard. Laurie said it was a pretty good distraction for Lily and that she passed the test of keeping her cool during the deer-dog chase.

Sunday night, shortly after I arrived home, we heard the telltale bark from Kea once more. Kiwi, the coward, was hiding inside the garage and watching out the door as Kea leapt in the air and yapped incessantly. She was looking toward the front yard. I got out the door just in time to see the doe wheel and run.

It seemed that she was getting very brazen to come right up to the house. Satisfied that she was gone, I brought dogs in and shut the garage door.

Should've left them out there to bark for a while cuz that naughty deer ate half of my mountain ash tree. It had broken off two years ago during a wild thunder and lightning storm but had rebounded this spring into a very pretty show piece for the front yard.

Not any more. That ol' gal who lives in grass up to her ears in the woods had the audacity to make a feast out of the tree during the night. It's pretty ugly again, and I'm going to have to snip off the top to make it halfway presentable.

We don't know what else that deer has in store for us, but she seems to have the upper hand. We walked through the woods last night looking for her----Bill had a big stick for just in case. She was apparently lying low in preparation for her next assault.

It's always fun this time of the year around here cuz ya never know what's gonna happen with all the critters that pass through or decide to hang their hats for a while. At least, so far, this gal has stayed out of my garden, but there's lots of summer ahead.

~~~~~~
It's time now to go get the hoe and start beating down some weed, which can be every bit as obnoxious as that deer. Problem with them is they never choose to lie low. Instead, they stand proudly and prolifically for all to see and for me to hate.

Off to the garden. Have a great Tuesday. And remember, the deer are watching you and waiting . . . .

Cinderella weekend finale: kayaking

Well, I haven't turned into a pumpkin yet, but I feel like I just experienced a Cinderella weekend with my daughter.

We wasted hardly a minute: walked to a parade, ate Blue Moon burgers in Fremont, shopped at Trader Joe's, attended a baseball game at Safeco Field, sat in Row No. 12 right behind the Mariners' dugout, and brought home free Ken Griffey T-shirts. Annie caught a free "Ichiro" shirt.

Bill saw us on TV several times. He figured out that he'd see us every time a left-handed batter stepped to the plate.

I did get tummy upset from my hotdog smothered in sauerkraut, but it still tasted divine.

We topped off the weekend with my maiden voyage in a rented double-seater kayak on Lake Union.

I told the attendant at the kayak place that I should try it all over again cuz nothing chaotic happened: no tipovers, no water all over the place--except outside the boat. And, the water was so still and peaceful as we paddled around the lake.

Kayaking, I discovered, is a lot easier to learn than pontooning. Only disappointment is that, with no miserable moments, my story is pretty uneventful except for all the pretty sights we saw.

For those who may be disappointed that I found no trouble, I can report that I found mustard---twice---once when I bent over too close to my hotdog and smeared it all over my Ken Griffey t-shirt and again on the way home when some dribbled from that hamburger half saved from lunch.

So, some things never change, but this was definitely a unique and wonderful weekend.

I'm back home and work awaits, but it's nice to have a head filled with lots of good moments spent in Seattle.

A Kenmore Air plane comes in for a landing. The company books flights to Victoria.

Honk! Honk!

Seattle's Gas Works Park.

Fremont bridge goes up for boats to pass through to the canal leading to Puget Sound.

Nice digs on the water.

No lawns to mow.

I saw some yachts for sale too, with some nice prices, e.g. $650,000. One was marked down to $340,000.

Annie's favorite boat home on Lake Union. Of course, it could be a favorite for lots of people.

After all, it starred in "Sleepless in Seattle."

We were on a schedule during my Cinderella weekend. By the time the clock struck noon, we needed to be ordering lunch. We did so at a nice restaurant in West Seattle. Annie dropped me off at my car around 1:15 and I headed home, smiling often about the wonderful weekend spent with my daughter.

By the way, Father's Day was not lost on this weekend. I took with me goodies for Bill, including a new geocaching book (Annie took its cover photo), other geocaching goodies and plenty of treats from Trader Joe's.

Coming in from a very satisfying and lovely kayak trip. My first-ever may lead to more.

Fun day in Seattle

Annie and friends gather for the Fremont Fair Parade.

Annie and Raine.

Duane and Laurel

Kayakers near Fremont

The Fremont Fair and its annual parade celebrate the summer solstice.

Elvis came.

A lot of bikers dress down and paint up.

I'm Mr. Blue.

After the Fremont Fair and Parade, Annie and I went to the Mariners game. She had purchased us tickets for seats 12 rows up from the action.

The Mariners won over the Arizona Diamondbacks in an exciting and action-filled game from start to finish.

Junior didn't play but he hung out in view during the last part of the game.

Ichiro, ready to slug a hit.

Thank you, Annie, for a fun day.