Life: Idiotropic

Don't read it.  Just look at the logo.  I'm thinking, it's a vinegar bottle, in fact, I think I have a bottle of English malt vinegar in my cupboard that looks exactly like that!  The name even matches...  Winegars.  But nope.  The name and strange red bottle are parts of the family legacy of dairy farming that goes back over 50 years and now, that Winegar name is synonymous with ice cream and really amazing ice cream at that.

This was our post wind farm reward for good behavior not because the kids needed it as much as because the mom was intrigued by the strange logo and just had to try the local ice cream.  Why not.

I don't think it's ever been so difficult to decide.  We tasted almost every flavor among the six of us.  Reigel Royal or Chocolate Gary Dough?  It's rich, creamy, and loaded with goodies.  Loved it.  Wanted more.  This will be my first stop next time I land in Ellensburg because I am a firm believer in dessert first.

My second stop?  Dinner at Martini's.


I have always wanted to stop at a tacky little taco trailer on the side of the road to see what all the fuss is about.  It appeals to my sense of adventure and foodie instincts.  Here, in Ellensburg are not one, but two such trailers and luckily for me, my sister-in-law was also feeling adventurous and came along on the taco adventure to a colorful little house called Martini's with a silver trailer parked along the side.  There's an Oregon license plate on the trailer and a menu all in Spanish listing tacos de lengua and pollo.  Spatulas and spoons hang in the windows and you can hear the clinking of metal from outside.  You can order from the trailer right there at the tiny window, but we went in and sat.  A chicken taco is only $1.25.  They're small, so I order two.  Delicious.  I could have ordered more.  Tiny little home made corn tortillas.  Flavorful shredded chicken, the kind you hold in your mouth and sort of suck on to get every last drop of flavor from.  Fresh onions.  Fresh cilantro.  I got a beef one too.  Equally good.  This is what tacos should be.

And it wasn't scary like one might think.  It was clean and the service was great.  This could be my hangout.  Amazing food... and cheaper than a coffee!

Just a few of the 149 windmills here at the Wild Horse

As if a house of 5 women isn't windy enough, we joined the rest of the Stahlbaum clan on top of the dry central Washington hills at the site of the Wild Horse wind farm.  Why?  Well, two reasons.  One, we really wanted to be the first visitors from Spain so that we could stick the little red pin in the vistor map.  And two, because the hats are sexy.  Hats?  Really?  Supposedly this is a safety thing, but then I wonder if we should have worn hats while hugging the windmills in Germany as well?

Really, though Europe seems to be covered with these oversized pinwheels, it was interesting to be up close an personal, to learn that even the smallest environmental factors like the fate of the precious hedgehog cactus would be taken into consideration, and to learn that it takes just eight Stahlbaums to hug a windmill. 

We shared a picnic with a view.  I was thrilled that we could remove our hats for picnicking.  "Hathead" was ill affecting my "wind blown."

The drive from Ellensburg here is 40 minutes snaking along a deep blue river that cuts its way through the valley.  An old aquaduct parallels its twists and turns - the aluminum colored half pipe supported by wooden crosses all along the mountain - rustic compared to the Roman waterways I've seen in Europe, but rustic and really amazing to see how much of it still remains.

Bright white windmills stand tall on the rocky hills.  The trees are green.  The red barns add yet another color to the landscape of primaries.  It's a beautiful day and it's about to get better.

We arrive at Michelle's house a little late, but that's ok.  Michelle is relaxed as can be today.  It's her day off before another long outing into the mountains.  Here, she and her family lead tourists on horseback into the mountains for camping excursions.  They supply everything and even do some amazing cooking.  The traveler enjoys a true vacation riding, enjoying the company of these amazing people, and soaking up the central Washington outdoors.  This is now on our ever growing list of things to do.

Today was just a taste.

We walked past the supply barn brimming with blankets and saddles, bridles and reins, horseshoes, and all the bits and bobbles that you could ever need for a horse or its rider.  Michelle saddled up Sweetie Pie for the little girls to ride, the only female of the herd and her daughter's horse, then we walked together into the field where their 60 horses grazed to pick one for Tiara to ride.  She spotted Goliath, a dark muscular boy, and fell in love.  We saddled him up and she rode him first.

These are trail horses.  They are used to walking in a line following the tail in front of them.  Goliath didn't have a tail in front of him.  Tiara did a great job controlling him, but he saw the tails in the field, his friends grazing, and each time he got just a bit too close to the gate,  he'd try to walk over to it and wait for the gate to magically open and release him.  It didn't take long to give up on Goliath and go again into the field to find Valdez - a horse that is equally as beautiful and much more cooperative. 

My favorites here aren't ridden though they could be.  The brothers, a Friesan/Paint mix are used to pull the wagons.  They are big and strong and absolutely gorgeous, but gentle as lambs.  One followed at my heals all the way into the field where his brother found us as well and there we were with these gentle giants standing at each shoulder nibbling our sweaters and begging for attention.

The three little girls all got turns on Sweetie Pie.  Arianna rode, enjoyed it, but wanted to swim and play with Michelle's daughters, so she was on and off and away to play.  Luci was the least apprehensive, getting on, controlling the horse immediately by herself, and enjoying quite a bit of time before hopping off to play.  Elise was nervous riding at first with Auntie Liesl leading Sweetie Pie by the reins, but when Luci and Arianna were both finished, Elise rode again and rode along controlling her horse on her own and staying on longer than the other two combined.

Tiara rode all three horses:  Goliath, Valdez, and Sweetie Pie.  Kirk and I both had turns on Valdez which renewed our love for horses and reminded us that we might like to have a couple of our own one day... another dream...

We finished up the day with a bbq on the deck.  Fresh fruit salad with blueberries and the most delicious grilled chicken I've ever eaten.  We sat back and gazed at the view in front of us - the field of grazing horses, the blue sky, and the mountain silhouettes.  The chickens ran free with the rooster around the yard, under the deck, and onto the deck.  Arianna decided that while she loves chicken, that she can't eat chicken in front of a chicken, so she didn't eat as much as usual.  But all the girls played, and it was good.

Good people.  Good food.  Beautiful place.  Life is good.  We'll be back.

It's a full day at the local KOA campground spending time with Kirk's mom whose made the trip from Moses Lake in her camper to see her grandkids and have some time with her son.  We grill.  We play.  I take a walk with Kirk to discover a beautiful swamp teaming with amazing bug life.  I saw at least eight different kinds of dragon fly, several different butterflies, a grasshopper, and a snake. 

The kids enjoy the playground and playing in a calm part of the fast running Yakima River.  The tuck the ends of their skirts into their underwear so they look like baby bloomers.  Elise slips in some mud and falls on her fanny into the river, then sits on a rock, pouts, and picks rocks out of the water.  The water is crystal clear and the current creates fairly large swirling waves as it rushes on.  We were happy to find this little spot... until we found this new friend.

A rather long snake later startled us at the river's edge.  He was a great swimmer and allowed us to watch him for a mini science lesson.  Luci and Elise were scared.  I made them get back enough that they could see him, but remain at a safe distance.  I, of course, got close so I could get pictures and Luci and Elise scolded me repeatedly for "not being safe" around a snake.  He swam a little, then crawled up on the river's edge, then swamp some more, and came to land again... such a carefree life.

Love this place.   A swamp and a river.  Does it get better?  Sigh.  Home.  May be home is where we drop our suitcase.

Only the facade and name were used in the show that made this famous.  Silly a show would do the trick.  The Brick has plenty of merit on its own.

The building itself was built in 1889 and this famous tavern has been serving its customers ever since.  It is Washington states oldest bar and to prove it, they can show you their state liquor license.  Their license number?  One.  Yep.  Here in little Roslyn, Washington with it's mining history and TV following, sits Washington's oldest bar proudly, prominently on the corner of Roslyn's only intersection.

We only ventured in because we needed a bathroom, but as I waited the waitress walked by holding a large circular tray with one hand loaded with thick juicy home made burgers and thick waffle fries.  The steam had not yet gone and I was asking for a table.







Yeah, it's a bar, but they also have a separate "Family Dining" entrance with a stage in the back for occasional live entertainment.  The little girls had their first Shirley Temples having never heard of that drink before.  Tiara ordered root beer.  And the burgers and fries and onion rings were exactly what we needed.  Thick, juicy, delicious bites of America.  There just isn't anything better.  This was lunch... and dinner.  Portions are huge.  Prices are great.  I'd eat here regularly if I lived close enough.

The Bar:  Proudly selling brews from the local Roslyn Brewing Company and something called Moose Drool among other things.   ;)



















Of course, we can't sit in bars here with kids, but I did have to take a peek, after all, it is famous.  The food is enough to go, the number is cool, but you know what?  There's a river in there!  No, seriously.  The Brick also boasts a real functioning running water spittoon right there shining brightly just in front of the line of bar stools.  I'd never seen one before and I'd certainly never use one, but it's still incredibly cool.

Other than a new paint job, the building looks just the same on the outside as it did when it was built in 1889.

Who'da thunk that right smack down in the center of Washington State where no one really ever goes is a collection of exquisitely preserved old towns with rich history that began before statehood?  Who knew while laughing at Fleishmann's antics on Northern Exposure that the little town he called home is so, so much more than just a set for a television show and a pilgrimage point for fans?

I didn't.

And I didn't really have an excuse because I'd been there before.  And I'd walked the same streets and photographed the same buildings.  May be it's the new eyes.  A new perspective.  This time I noticed things I didn't notice before.

And wow.

Roslyn became a mining town with the discovery of coal in 1883, sixteen years before Washington became a state.  Back then, it was just part of the Washington Territory (split from the Oregon Territory in 1848) and that bit of coal was shipped down the road to Ellensburg to fuel a blacksmith shop.  A couple years later the Northern Pacific Railway Company began to develop the mines and recruited people from Europe to come work them. 

This "quiet little town" was once a cultural mecca with 28 different nationalities united together to deal with the hardships of the mining life and to make Roslyn a nice place to live.  Guess it shouldn't have surprised me when the shop owner at "Fleishmann's" place told us about the land he inherited from his Croatian family - in Croatia.  It all makes sense.  Even now, this town has roots.

Roslyn was incorporated in 1889 and ten years later it sat in the new Washington state.

It was chosen by producers for it's simple beauty and authenticity.  One main road runs horizontally through it.  Another road intersects it at The Brick creating those four city blocks of "downtown" where you find about a dozen examples of "Western Frontier architecture."  These original flat-faced wooden buildings seem directly from a John Wayne movie.  American flags fly proudly.  Murals cover several walls.  One for the miners.  One for motorcyclists.  And the one that's become famous - the camel.

I watched Northern Exposure in reruns every day when I was pregnant with Arianna.  Guess you could call us fans.  We missed the festival by a week when hundreds of thousands crowded into this tiny place and old stars returned for the fun.

Today I was happy to bask in the sun, walk the serene streets, and soak up the history of this special little town.

Lunch at The Brick was icing on a cake that was pretty good on its own.

Fog over Snoqualmie Pass, Washington State

They say that "absence makes the heart grow fonder," and I can attest to that now a thousand times over.  I almost feel like the Grinch at the end of the movie.   My heart was never that small, but I feel like it's grown in leaps and bounds for this place that I used to call home.  It's strange.

I've driven this route before from Seattle east.  I've seen the green, the mountains, the passes.  I remember a few places that were pretty, but I also remember being bored and just hoping the drive would end soon.  Not today.  May be the fog was doing a special show just for us swirling like frosting near the mountain peaks and hovering about the tree tops.  May be it was trying to lure us back.  It did a good job.  And the trees in a million shades of green.  Magnificent. 

We've been doing a bit of traveling these last few years and I've come to really feel at home in Europe.  Every place is so special and unique that I constantly feel like I'm learning and being filled creatively.  It's taught me to see things differently and to appreciate little things that may be I just didn't see before.  Now we're spending our vacation time driving down roads that I've seen over and over again, but it's almost as if I'm here for the first time.  There are details I missed before, but now I see them.  And now I'm falling in love again, but even more with my great Northwest. 

Yep.  It's a barn.  Just a barn.  You know how many old barns I passed by when I lived here and didn't even really see them?  This became one of my vacation obsessions.  They are everywhere and all amazing.

This is not a photo from our European travels.  It's not a palace or a Rathaus.  It's not even in Europe.  No, this work of architectural art is simply a library sitting prominently at one end of Red Square on Seattle's UW campus.

It's the Suzzallo, home of many weary students and the famous "reading room" just behind those stained glass windows.  It is, inside, as phenomenal as it is on the outside and rumor has it, that if you look hard enough, you can find a slim volume that maps out the many "climbing routes" up the infamous library.

It began in 1923 and still sits.  I am happy to have had the privilege of studying there.  And after today's walk around the city and the campus, there is a good chance that at least one of my girls will have that privilege as well.  Tiara's fallen in love with Seattle and the school.  In three years, I may just have a good reason to visit and stroll through these stacks again.

I have run by the fountain countless times.  The dreaded Chemistry building is directly to the right.  I used to come here and feed the ducks with friends. 

This is UW's Drumheller Fountain where, on a clear day, when Seattle is lucky enough to find one, you can see a perfectly centered snow capped Mt. Rainier in the background.  Sadly, not today.  But it was a nice part of our tour.  We walked down to the lake, Husky Stadium, and over to the Montlake parking lot and up and around the dorms.  The girls were absolutely bewildered by the shoes hanging from the trees and I was just soaking it all up wishing we could live here again, just for a couple years...  "Back then" I didn't have my camera or the need to take pictures.  Now I saw so much more beauty with no time to capture it.

I'd even like to taste one of those delicious sourdough grilled ham and cheese sandwiches.  Mmmm.  Seattle may see me again sooner than it thinks.

Where it all started?  This is where I met my guy.  Well, actually, I met him at Danken's over a scoop of coffee oreo where I would have stopped, but it changed to a Cold Stone just before I left and today it's a tacky tattoo parlor.  Sorry folks... as sentimental as I am, a set of matching ice cream cone tattoos just isn't my idea of romance.

Just looked up Danken's and found this... was happy to see it still around 'til I checked the date.  Written in 1992, the year I began at UW, and possibly the peak of Danken's success.  Sadly, I haven't been able to find anything about Danken's past 1997.  This was GREAT ice cream.  Unique, high quality, delicious, local.  Amazing. 

Pag's Pizza Verde with a twist.  Pesto, artichoke hearts, goat cheese, minus mushrooms, plus grilled chicken and sundried tomatoes.

Sigh.  If only I had a piece sitting next to me now.  No, it's not drama.  It's just really that good.

Nestled among the strange assortment of eateries and shops along the "Ave" in Seattle's U-district,  Pagliacci's Pizza has been a staple of college cuisine since 1979 when three Italian guys opened it up together.

I met friends here on a regular basis in college and fell in love with the Pizza Verde.  My then-boyfriend, now-husband loves the Pesto Salad.  It was revolutionary then after post-football game runs to Pizza Hut in high school.  A sophisticated pizza to match the independence of university life, Pag's was then and is now unique, different, fresh, quality...  and shall I say addictive?

Yeah, you can order a whole pizza like I did today, but Pag's is great for their slices.  No reason to commit to a whole when you can choose one or several different delicious tastes and a salad on the side.  The walls are covered in popular movie posters - in Italian.  I have no idea where they get these, but they are seriously cool.  The guys making our pizzas are just as cool - friendly, helpful, and probably quite entertained by my childlike enthusiasm for the food here.

My pizza came - a large, of course.  Don't know when I'll be back again.  And I took a photo - two, actually.

The taste.  Mmmmmm.  Just as good as it was nearly 20 years ago.  So, so delicious.  It isn't surprising that our one little Pag's on the Ave has multiplied throughout Seattle's neighborhoods.  Lucky neighbors.  Makes living in perpetual rain totally worth it.

• Repeatedly shocked at how much people are smiling and genuinely helpful.  It feels amazing.  We're hungry and the folks at the hotel lobby are having a thoughtful discussion about which pizza is best and who would be open.  Oh, and "here are some coupons".  Wow. 

• We stop at a gas station for a toiletry item we need.  Tiara and I find ourselves walking past not one or two, but 5 aisles of candy, gum, and mints.  That's 5 aisles front, back, and sides filled with sugary junk.  Chips took up another 2 full aisles.  Sodas lined the walls.  I'm filled with a  mixture of excitement and disgust.  On the one hand, the sheer number of choices is mind blowing (and we did feel as if it were Christmas morning as we grabbed that box of junior mints), but then, who eats this junk?  The quantity is bordering on obscene.  In contrast, my local Spanish gas station has 1/3 of one side of an aisle dedicated to gum, candy, and mints.  

• Red lights are making us all crazy.  Sitting there for seemingly ever with our eyes staring at that ridiculous signal.  I feel like a trained dog.  Horrible.  When traffic could be moving.  We kept grumbling.  "There should be a roundabout here."  "Stupid red light."  The highways aren't much better.  Even the relatively slower Spanish highways are lightening speeds ahead of these roads.  55mph???  Oh you've got to be kidding me.  I feel as if we are crawling.  At least we're crawling towards a great destination...

And there it is... the Seattle skyline
Just past Boeing field on the left, the road rises up and there dramatically in front of you is the Seattle skyline with the gargantuan sporting fields on the south side and an old brewing company just along the freeway.  It's big and beautiful with distinctive buildings - tall skyscrapers, but interesting ones.  Icons really, like the Space needle just north. You notice them.  And then you're too close to crane your neck up and really see it, but then the highway dips under the roads and some of the buildings themselves with rooftop gardens overflowing over the edges.  It's the Emerald city and it lives up to it's name.  Even from the I-5, in this stretch, it's beautifully green.


Pike's Place market isn't hard to get to.  Signs point the way and it sits just about the water anyway, so head west and you'll sort of run into it.  The crowds get thick.  Locals and tourists alike.  The cold misty weather doesn't stop life in Seattle.  People are still out in shorts and sandals.  I'm shivering in my airplane blanket still with no luggage and just the clothes I flew in, but I won't complain.  It's August and Seattle is welcoming us back with the enduring mist that is almost as iconic as the Needle itself.


We parked in a little lot just behind the market.  Even the lot was cool, painted with brightly colored whimsical murals of Seattle all around the walls near the elevators on each floor. 
The Market

I love markets. I always have.  And living in Europe for 5 years has given me a taste of many from Paris to Budapest, Valencia to Venice, and all those great local ones in the Netherlands.  They are all fabulous and fun, special treasure hunts to find something new and exotic.  It has seemed that Europe really does a market may be a bit better than the states, but I'd almost forgotten about Pike's.  Here, you can find all the fresh and fabulous, the exotic, the gourmet, the dramatic, the touristic, and the just plain strange.  It's fun and alive.  Stay on top and you'll see fish that fly, thick bunches of rosemary for just a dollar, flowers, fresh produce, jewelry, and art.  Below is artsy and ecletic.  Across the street in Post Alley, there are shops and restaurants and coffee shops.

I could have spend all day here, but the crowds were a bit thicker than I'd remembered... that pesky tourist season.  It was nice when I lived here and could just run down on a whim.  Even with the mist and people, it always feels good to be at Pike's.  And now, great to be back.

The Coffee

But... I was meeting a friend at Starbucks.  My suggestion.  'Cause I just didn't know any better.

Once upon a time when I lived in Seattle, the "very first" Starbucks was just another Starbucks. You could go in, sit, have a coffee...  It's never been big, but it wasn't a tourist attraction.  Now, the inside is standing room only and a line of Japanese tourists create a line out the door and into the street.  Huh.  Well, apparently my idea of meeting here for a leisurely cup of coffee with an old friend isn't going to happen. 

If you do brave the crowds and place your order, you can get buy the Pike's Market Special Reserve blend coffee that is only sold in this one shop.  Bold and full-flavored, it is worth the line.  Knowing that now, I should have bought more.  It's also a chance to get the Pike's market mug - the only location that has its own mug and a nice addition to the current city, state, and country mugs spilling out of my Spanish cupboards.

It's crazy that Starbucks is a tourist destination, but yes, I stood in the line, got coffee, and stocked up on Starbucks paraphernalia.  It does hold a certain "cool factor."  May be a modern version of "drinking the Koolaid" should be "sipping the Starbucks."

We did end up sitting.  You walk a block in Seattle and you'll find another amazing coffee shop.  Actually, you'll probably pass five different ones - all different, all quirky, all fantastic.  Seattlites drink coffee like Belgians drink beer.  Passing the giant inverted umbrella art we found a large Tully's on the corner and I did get my chance for a good sit and a leisurely coffee without the throngs of camera toting tourists and the girls got a snack for the road.


Seattle dances to it's own drum, has it's own vibe, it's own heartbeat.  There is life here and you can feel it.  Yes, you might own an extensive umbrella collection and a fab set of Wellies, but it's so worth it.  It attracts all sorts and that alone is pretty cool.  I remember a day on the bus years ago when a young overly pierced, tattoo-covered young man got on and sat next to a very conservative looking man in a business suit.  In some places the business man may have moved or at least scooted a bit farther towards the window.  Not here.  Here, they looked at each other and talked - amiably.  No judgement.


Hula hoop musician guy takes turns entertaining at the corner with cool bearded guy with the parrot he's raised from a hatchling.  Bird guy pretends to shoot his bird.  Parrot "plays dead."  Balloon guy sits on the next corner with a 3 foot tall balloon hat on his head, a uninflated white heart balloon dangling from his mouth and a partially blown up long balloon in his hand twisting and curving it. 

The time wasn't long enough... but I don't know if it could be.  We did get a taste.  We saw them throw fish.  Tiara salivated at the fresh herbs and berries.  The littles held the bird.  We renewed our love for this place.  It's pretty safe to say that we'll be back.

The Car

Kirk heads to the rental car place early to pick up the car.  This is one that we reserved months in advance when we planned this trip.  We specifically arranged to pick up the car in Seattle and return it in San Francisco.

He meets us at breakfast with keys in hand, but not happy.  Somehow their computer says pick up AND return in Seattle and "Oh, sorry.  We don't have a fluid fleet.  You can't drop off out of state."  No, we didn't go through a small company.  This was one of the big ones.

A new rental last minute will be expensive if it's even available.   We contemplate Kirk driving up from San Francisco to Seattle to return the car, then fly back down to catch our flights.  It's not a great plan.  Flights aren't as cheap as we'd remembered.

Our current company mentioned National - a sister company who did have a "fluid fleet," but didn't have anything available.

Funny... when I checked National, they had a car available.  So... we winced at the price and went for it.  Bottom line, in a vacation that begins in one state and ends two below, a car is sort of an essential.  We'll get the new car tomorrow morning...

Thankfully, this and the luggage issue gave us just a bit more time in the area.  We had time to go to Seattle (next post) and enjoy the city.

The Luggage

After traipsing all over Seattle in yesterdays 29 hour outfits using an airline blanket as a poncho, I was a bit eager to find my luggage.

I checked online and got no information.  My claim was still "in process."

I called and got the same "in process" message on a recording with no "real people" option.

So, I jumped on the free airport shuttle and went to the US Airways luggage counter.  This lady was very friendly and seemed like she was honestly trying, but she could not find out where my luggage was and when it would arrive.  The flight I came on yesterday was about to arrive.  I stood there watching the carousel go round and round with not a sign of my stuff.  I'd been told in Philly that my luggage would take my same itinerary 24 hours later... but then they thought my luggage made it to Lisbon...

A mid-30's man lost stood there looking for his flip flops that had fallen out of the side pocket of the backpack that he'd checked in.  He was actually turning to go report then lost.  Seriously?  I'm waiting for four large pieces of luggage for 6 people and he's reporting the flip flops that were loosely shoved into a non-sealable mesh pocket. 

I went back to find the US Airways lady busy.  She had no clue.  Our 4 large pieces of luggage were lost without a trace.  "Ok, well, I'm going to go check at American."

The American luggage service counter was at the far end of baggage claim, but I made it, gave him my luggage tickets and said, "We arrived yesterday on US Airways.  They don't know what happened to my luggage.  Do you?"

And he did!  "I'm showing one piece arriving on this next flight.  They probably grouped all the numbers under just one.  They'll arrive on the carousel directly in front of you in 5 minutes."

And they did!!

A harried me couldn't make the luggage trolley machine take my bills and the credit card function was broken, so I lugged all four unwieldy pieces down to US Airways where they gave me a trolley.  I asked if they would just drive me, but the "luggage delivery service only delivers luggage and it wouldn't go out until tomorrow."

The free shuttle it is.

And I returned triumphant to the happy squeals of everyone.

Bottom line:
We travelled:  Valencia  - Lisbon - Philadelphia - Seattle
Then 24 hours-ish later:
Luggage travelled:  Valencia - Madrid - Orlando - Denver - Seattle

It arrived in the country unaccompanied and untouched. 

All times in Spanish time.  Parenthesis show local time.

0330 - Alarm goes off.  Awake and preparing to go.  Cat and dog settled.  Kids dressed.  Bags outside waiting.  If it wasn't so early in the morning, I'd feel absolutely euphoric at the simple fact that we are all ready and together.  If I had been together enough to actually make that pot of coffee, I'd be doing the super-mom jig in the front yard.

0430 - Two taxis arrive on time with drivers who are not only friendly, but nicely dressed and bathed!!  Trust me, it's a special thing.  No taxi in our area has room for 6 because local insurance laws only allow taxi policies for 5 persons which translates into one driver and four passengers.

0500 - Arrive at VLC (Valencia Int' Airport) and check in.  No comment on the size or weight of our baggage.  I'm feeling smug that we crammed junk enough for 6 people for 4 weeks into only 4 bags.  Coffee and chocolate croissants by the gate.

0625 - We should be boarding for our 0655 flight, but we're not.  The plane isn't here yet?  No idea why.  Someone mentions the air traffic controller strikes going on.  May be that's the culprit?

0715 - We board the bus outside our gate and wait.  It finally moves, driving us to a tiny little plane.  It's almost 0730 and we're boarding an 18 passenger plane.  The cabin isn't pressurized.  There is no cockpit door.  There are 9 seats on one side and 9 seats on the other.  Everyone has a window and an aisle.  The pilot and copilot are in the cockpit in full view of the passengers.   There is no stewardess, but each seat has a small white box on it with a nice little breakfast snack.  The reservation is through US Airways who subcontracted to Iberia who subcontracted to Tap Portugal who subcontracted to PGA express.  Should I be scared?

0730ish - We take off.  It's a noisy two hour trip.

0755 (0855 GMT) - Land in Lisbon which looks as stunning from the air as I've heard it is from the ground.  We're just 3 planes away from the plane we'll eventually take.  Did an enormous U to get out of one terminal and into the other.  Had to show our passports to get into the sealed off gate.   They repeatedly checked our baggage tags.  Everything seemed very thorough.  Should be no issues...


1135 (1035 GMT) A late departure on a US Air flight to Philadelphia.  We're greeted by smiles and an abundance of American English.  It doesn't seem like a big deal, but it feels great.  The girls are excited that the food and drinks are free.  When the steward asked Luci what she'd like to drink, she requested "water natural cold, please."

Eight long hours later with only one child appropriate movie to calm the kid boredom we arrive.  The kids did great.  The steward comments that we must travel a lot because the kids were so well behaved.

1935 (1335 EST)  Arrive in Philadelphia, clear passport control and arrive at baggage claim to find no baggage.  Told that it was left in Lisbon and would arrive in Seattle on the same trip we are taking just 24 hours later.  Clearing customs is especially easy when you have nothing to lug across the line.  Astonished at the friendly customer service at the eateries by our gate.  They smiled!  Love it!  4 hour layover.

2350 (1750 EST)  Depart for Seattle.  A painfully long 5 hour flight without movies but at least we have our free beverage service.  We really like that.

0555 (2055 PST)  Arrive in Seattle 26.5 after waking up this morning.  It's still Saturday.  Still no luggage.  The lady at the claim office has absolutely no idea where it is or when we'll get it.  She thinks it might be coming in on an American flight from Vancouver, BC to LAX, but "that doesn't make sense."  We agree.  So, no luggage, no clean clothes, nada... but US Airways does provide a small toiletry bag full of sample sizes of all sorts of things... anti-perspirant, a toothbrush, toothpaste, a razor, etc...  I'm too tired to be upset about the luggage and though it's small, I'm genuinely happy about the "hospitality" kits.

Stopped at the airport gift shop to get some souvenir t-shirts to sleep in tonight.  20% discount for military members.  They are friendly and smiling.  I'm on top of the world.

0700 Sunday (2200 PST Saturday)  Checking into the Holiday Inn Express in Sea Tac.  We're now sporting our Seattle t-shirts.  I'm thankful that I packed my makeup and all toothbrushes in the carry on.  I may be wearing the same clothes for 40 hours, but at least I'll have "my face on."

0800 Sunday (2300 PST Sat) Finally heading to sleep after our 28 1/2 hour day.  Slept light.  Though I'm tired, it's Sunday morning to me.  I sleep just a few hours and wake up easily.

... will be around... have already uploaded photos so I can catch you up a bit on the last week.  Have some beautiful photos to share.

But... suitcases call.  Taxi arrives now in just under 6 hours. 

I should be sleeping.

T

These are a small portion of the flowers that will be thrown today.

Every year at the end of the Feria de Julio in Valencia, a flower fight ensues on the Paseo de la Alameda where locals and tourists can pelt the finely dressed fallera princesses sitting properly in large floral floats with heavy headed flowers.  It's perfect for women with a complex.  Let's pelt the fair skinned with flowers and try to mess that perfect hair!

I've known about this parade for over a year.  What I didn't know and hadn't read in any blog or review of the event is that if you actually want to be a part of the flower throwing fight, you have to buy a ticket in advance for one of the private boxes along either side of the street.  There, you have room for 6 people and are provided with two crates of flowers and a bag of snacks.  That would have been perfect.  And I would have paid... if I would have known... but I didn't... so...

I stood on a gazebo just behind the thick crowds who pushed in on each other behind the fence that separated the masses from the privileged box holders.  The gazebo had no ladder nor stairs.  You had to reach up, grab onto the wrought iron fence around it, and pull yourself up.  I pushed up Luci, then Elise.  Strangers helped them in and took my purse for me.  Strangers let Luci and Elise stand in front of them and watch the parade as well.  They are good to children here.

I, armed with several lenses, used only my telephoto as I was much too far to really get the close shots I wanted.  It was painfully disappointing.

All Valencian processions begin with men on horses, so promptly at 2030, two men in uniform with feathered hats rode by on dappled white horses.    The ponchoed men with flower poles were next, then falla couples riding together, then the cars, then the floats.

The parade route is a wide strip of road about 5 city blocks long.  It's covered in the fine sand that is used here for bull runs to give the animals traction on the roads.  The parade begins slowly.  Each car or float passes the judges stand and the announcer tells the audience where they are from.  They pass by, turn at the end, then return creating a long loop with new floats going up one side and ones we've seen returning on the other.  They continue the loop passing by again and this time the announcer hands out prizes to the best floats.  The float of the Ayutamiento - the City Hall with last year's court wins the biggest prize and the Fallera Major sits there all smiles waving to the crowds.


























The neighborhoods of Valencia have recently chosen their 2010-2011 Fallera courts, the court of princesses that will attend many of the events during this year of celebrations leading up to Fallas.  Most of them today are dressed in the traditional silk gowns with the special hair pieces and hair combs put in and big dangle earrings.   Some though are dressed in a theme to match their float - cats, Hawaiian girls, country girls with straw hats, Egyptians... it's fun to see and so far, they are all quite happy.

It's hot and humid.  I can't imagine how uncomfortable they must be sitting packed tightly together in those heavy silk dresses, tennis rackets neatly laid across their laps.

When all the awards have been given out, they sound a blast and the flower fight begins.  Those folks in the boxes are grabbing handfuls of flowers and pelting falleras young and old.  No one is safe. Some of the girls hide behind their rackets shielding their eyes. Some scoop up handfuls of flowers as they fall and throw them right back.

Many of the older girls have a clear plastic sheet across their laps to keep their dresses clean.  A fallera's dress can cost well over 10,000 Euros.

The fight lasts for 30 minutes.  The fallera major hides behind her racket the entire time picking flowers off her skirt as they land.

When the blast sounds again, it is over.  The last of the flowers are thrown as the floats exit the Alameda and dismantle up the street.  The crowds (us included) take to the parade route picking up handfuls of flowers from the ground and pelting each other with them.  I learned that Luci and Elise both have great aim when throwing mums.  The smell is strong.  I could smell it from the gazebo too.  The sweet mum smell is unmistakable.

We walk by a few crowded stands selling grilled corn, something I've only seen in the summer here.  There's a small fireworks display - quite sad really, nothing like the usual Valencian displays that have so impressed me.  We walk around the carnival and see a food vendor selling "Cheek Kebabs,"  then I let the girls play for a few minutes before we go home.

So I go the an absolute paradise today.  The weather is perfect.  The parking lot is packed with people, but when we walk down, the waterfalls remain pristine with not a person in sight.  It's ours for the taking.  The butterflies are everywhere - beautiful, big ones like something out of a fairytale.  This one flies all around me and keep landing on the ground near my feet.  I'm able to get within just a couple inches of him.

I was ready.  I charged my camera battery last night.  I had three lenses and had learned a few new settings to play with while I photographed the waterfalls.  I'd even grabbed my macro which would be great for these butterflies...

But I left my camera battery fully charged in the charger in my bathroom at the house an hour away.

Sad. 

At least I have my iPhone so I can share this.  He was soooo amazing.