Sunday, November 23, 2014

In Other News

Life lately:

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Elle pulls herself up on everything . . . and then lets go . . . and then falls on her bum.  Repeat.

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I have no idea what this picture is all about (too long on the camera), but I love seeing my loves together and happy (and Anna on one of her “louder” days).

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Elle is currently infatuated with the shower and exploring all things in it.

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I will not gross you out with details, but lets just say the drain and her have shared a lot.

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I LOVE evenings when we get back from the library.  I try to take the kids every few weeks for a little browse session after school.  We all load up on books and I secretly hope Sean got home before us and started dinner.  Library evenings always seem to end up like this – everyone in their own little spot snuggled up with a good book.  The house is peacefully quiet and I hate to send them to bed.

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Lu found some spilled rice cereal of Elle’s on the table and decided to create some art.  It stayed for a good 24 hours.  I couldn’t bear to wipe it up.

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Oh, so much kissable goodness!

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I love living in a place that experiences fall.

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Elle is enthralled with her new little friend in the mirror.  Before long the glass is covered in slobbery kisses and my heart feels all tickly and happy and warm.

Timberline Lodge

While Sean and I were visiting Mt. Hood last month we took a last minute detour on the way home.  Timberline Lodge is a very cool piece of Oregon history and quite a sight to see. 

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When I was in high school I had to do a cultural event.  One of those things where you have to prove you went somewhere, um . . . cultural.  I recall procrastinating this assignment until the last possible weekend (that would be the first of June) and my family drove up the mountain so I could get a couple of brochures to prove I had been there.  This was not on of my finer scholarly moments.  All I remember about the day was I put on shorts in the valley because it was nice and warm, and when I got out of the car at the top of the mountain I was blasted with freezing cold air.  I ran in, grabbed the brochures, jumped in the car, and we drove back down the mountain.  Pathetic, I know.  But I appreciate my parents driving me all the way up there on a Saturday to save my English grade.

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This time was completely different.  And so fun.  It was cold, for sure, but it was also just really neat and kind of disconcerting to see a place that should be covered in snow, covered in nothing but dirt and rocks.  You see, Timberline Lodge is at the timberline (brilliant, this name).  So when you look up the mountain from the lodge you see this:

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Nothing but a bald rock.  But when you look down the mountain, you see this:

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Beautiful, lush forest.  It’s kind of trippy.  A little unsettling.

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The Lodge itself is massive, not only in size, but in feeling.  It’s not like a big fancy hotel that has a bazillion floors and lots of ballrooms and restaurants.  What I mean is when you walk inside

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you just feel that mass.

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This is a solid structure!  The Lodge was built in the 1930s as part of Pres. Roosevelt’s work projects.  Every part of this building is made from wood and stone.  And to help you get some perspective on the size of those beams (which are solid wood – perhaps more illustratively stated, solid tree trunks) . . .

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Sean is not a little man.  Those things are massive!  The whole Lodge is like that.  From the rafters

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To the staircases

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To the furniture

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As sad as it is that we could not reconstruct this building today even if we wanted to because the lumber resources are simply no longer available, in a way that also makes this place so special.  It is unique.  Not only to its setting up on the top of Mt Hood, but to its time.  My old high school has paintings in the theater lining the balcony section.  The paintings were done in the 30s as part of the FDR’s work projects.  I recently read a book about marvelous art that was created during the 30s that never would have happened had it not been for the Depression. 

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It is inspiring to me to see places like this and the art at my high school and beautiful miniature rooms showcasing the talent of master craftsmen at the Art Institute of Chicago.  I can see their souls in their work.  Work they so desperately wanted to do.  Work that celebrated industry and beauty and craftsmanship.  I am in awe at their desire to give their all to whatever was laid before them.  And I am so grateful to have the privilege of experiencing it.

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