Spring in the Canyon

There's this thing called 'speed scrapping', which I have never done. It's kind of like scrapbooking on, well, speed. They actually have online speed scraps, and although I haven't ever participated, in my imagination, it's like a game where whoever gets done first, hits a bell and screams, "Speed Scrap"! Maybe it's not that way, perhaps it's nice and tame and non competitive.

I take so many pictures, and mostly they sit on my hard drive, getting moldy and cobwebby. There's no way I would ever create layouts for even a hundredth of my photos, but occasionally I would just like to do something for my poor little pretty pictures. Today on my way home from work, I stopped along Las Virgines Road in Malibu Canyon, to take photos. It was such a pretty afternoon, and the light was lovely. I've taken many pictures in this spot, and I've done at least 2 layouts of photos from here.

So, here's layout #3 from the special spot, speed scrapped in about 15 minutes. (That's the best I can do)

Sew Fine

Like a lot of families in the 50s and 60s, we sewed. Well, it's probably more accurate to say my Mom and sister Leslie sewed. I tried. I took sewing in the 7th grade (I was horrible), and my friend Terri and I even took sewing one summer at the Singer Sewing Center in Pasadena. Nope. Didn't take. I was impatient, and didn't want to take the time to learn the basics. I wanted to design my own clothes and create cute and unique outfits. But my big problem was that I didn't understand that in order to create my own styles, I needed to have a mastery of, and careful attention to the mundane tasks of zippers, sleeves, buttonholes, facings, lining, etc etc. I wanted to bypass all of that 'unimportant stuff' and just make cute outfits! But since I wasn't a stellar sewer, my darling Mom made many of my fashions. When I was really little, Mom made me pretty dresses for Easter and special occasions. One of these was even featured in the Malheur Enterprise... our local newspaper in Vale, Oregon, the Easter I was three.


I loved the dresses Mom sewed for me. The piping, rickrack, topstitching. All of the cute details made me feel very special. As I got older, I was never embarassed by my Mom's sewing like some of my friends. She was an expert sewer, and although she didn't sew for me as often when I got to high school, she always came through with a quick skirt or pair of coulottes when I needed them. My sister Leslie was an amazing seamstress, and could whip out tailored dresses, jackets and coats in no time. Leslie, however, had her own life and family when I was in adolescence, and so I didn't have many fashions made by Les until I was in college.

A couple of weeks ago, when we were planning Amy's wedding Open House, I wanted a little table to put outside for my laptop, to show the wedding slideshow. I was nervous about using a TV tray or something small and wobbly, where my computer might be in danger of being knocked over. I obviously wanted something small, and sturdy. It flashed into my mind that my Mom's sewing machine was in our garage, and that it would make a perfect surface. Then the idea took hold that I needed to do a layout about my Mom's sewing machine, since I had so many wonderful memories of both my Mom, and myself, sewing on it. Mom had told me the story many times, of the door-to-door salesman from whom she bought it in the early years of their marriage. It wasn't fancy, but sewed like a dream. No buttonholer or fancy stitches, but it didn't matter. Mom didn't need those things. She made lovely buttonholes by hand.

When I opened it up, I found some of Mom's little treasures inside: the piece of plaid wool fabric she wrapped around the head of the machine, to keep her pins. Her little dressmakers pencil, and her box of attachments and bobbins. It was just as I remembered it.

So here it is, a little tribute to my Mom, and her sewing machine, and how special it was, and is, to me.

The Adamson House

Bruce and I went to an amazing museum yesterday: The Adamson House and Malibu Lagoon Museum in Malibu, California. I pass it every day on my way to work, and I've been curious to see what it was all about. We were definitely not disappointed! The Adamson House was built in 1929 by a prominent Southern California family. The wife, Rhoda Rindge Adamson, was the daughter of Frederick Hastings Ringe, who was the last owner of the Malibu Spanish land grant. The home was built for the Adamson family, and they lived there until 1968 when it was taken over by the State of California and eventually turned into a museum. The home is lovely, with it's Moorish and Spanish styling, but what really captivated us were the beautiful grounds, and the incredible view. (click on the picture above to see the gorgeous Malibu setting)
Here are a few more photos of the pretty place, including a photo of the Malibu lagoon, and the huge flock of pelicans that reside there.





One of the outstanding features of the home,
is the amazing tile work. The mother of
Rhoda Adamson, May Knight Rindge, found-
ed and operated the Malibu Pottery Works,
which designed and created all of the tile work around and in the home. There was only one piece of artwork in the home- there wasn't any need for paintings, because all of the tile created artwork on every wall and surface. The colors were inspiring, and each pattern and color combination was fresh and beautiful.

The grounds were beautifully landscaped, loads of colorful and unusual flowers. But it was the ocean, lagoon, pier, and green hillsides that made the setting so perfect.

Stay tuned, I'm sure there will be a layout coming soon, using some of the photos from our lovely afternoon in Malibu.

Going Out to Play

I'm a member of the Baby Boomer generation. Sometime I'm embarrassed to be a Boomer, there have been some not-so-good societal repercussions from the 'sex, drugs & rock 'n roll' generation. We definitely have left our mark on American culture! But, for those of us who grew up in the 'fifties and 'sixties, life was a lot of fun. My Mom talks about growing up in the twenties, and and although things were tough for her family financially, they had a lot of fun too. So, I guess my experience isn't unique at all. But I do think that today's kids don't have the same kind of fun that we did. I know my own kids grew up in a different time... I was much more protective and paranoid about my children than my own parents were. I hardly let them out of my sight (although to hear them tell it, they ran wild just as I feared!)

We kids of that era rarely watched tv. When we came home from school, we changed out of our school clothes (for us girls, that meant dresses and skirts), and put on our play clothes. We gathered with our friends, and played for hours on the sidewalks, streets, parks, vacant lots, school grounds, local hills, and each others' yards. We ran and jumped, skated and bicycled. We climbed trees, and fences, and just wore ourselves out playing games. Tag. Hide & seek. Blind man's bluff. Jump rope. Jacks. We didn't usually head home until dark, when you could hear the sound of our mothers calling us from the front porch. (When was the last time you heard the sound of mothers calling their kids in your neighborhood?)

Speaking of tv, we did sometimes watch tv after school, or at least around dinner time. After dinner there might be a favorite show or two, after homework was done. But no one I knew ever watched for 6 hours straight like some of today's kids do. (In LA we had 7 stations, which was a lot. Most areas of the country had maybe 3 tv stations.)

I often wonder what kinds of sweet memories today's children will have. Will they fondly remember hours of wii? Those special video games? Watching DVDs in the car, as they traveled about, rather than looking out the window at all of the scenery going by? Have they even heard of Kick the Can, or Run Sheep Run? Maybe as parents and grandparents we can take the kids outdoors once in awhile, and play a rousing game of Capture the Flag. It would be so fun!

A Colorful Celebration!

I think I'm going to wrap up all of the wedding festivities with this last layout (perhaps I might do more when the wedding photos are done, and I have permission to use them) but for now, here's A Colorful Celebration! (you can click on the image for a closer view)

The Happy Parents

I don't think I posted any photos of myself in all the wedding stuff, so here's one of Bruce and I and the lovely bride, taken on Saturday at the Open House. I'm not nuts about the few photos that were taken of me, but this one doesn't make me want to run and hide. We are so happy for the kids!

After All the Hard Work

As I mentioned in an earlier post, we (I mean my husband and his crew) have been renovating our backyard in preparation for our daughter's wedding Open House, which was held yesterday. The men worked so hard, and everything turned out beautifully. Bruce aches in every possible muscle, and he's taking a well-deserved nap this afternoon. The Open House turned out splendidly.
Here are a few photos showing the before & after of the project!



This photo shows the backyard in all its wedding Open House finery: (click on the photos for a closer view)


Doesn't it look great? Now that it's over, we have a lovely backyard to enjoy for months to come.

The Bride's Kiss

Some of my favorite photos from Amy's wedding, were when she and Jon came out of the temple to greet family and friends. It was snowing and windy, and people huddled under umbrellas and coat hoods. The radiant couple obligingly kissed for the crowd (to lots of applause & cheers) and then they did their cute jump for joy! But as the couple began their descent down the stairs, the bride spotted someone very special. Her exuberant expression let the crowd know that she was very happy to see one of her admirers. It soon became obvious that the object of her affection was another young man whom she loved- little nephew Jackson.

Hats

I'm not really a hat gal. My sister Leslie looks good in any hat she puts on, and I look, well, let's just say I'm not a hat person. But I love hats. I have several vintage hats in my closet, including a couple that belonged to my Grandmother, who passed away in 1969. My daughter-in-law Jessica looks adorable in hats. Maybe I'll pass these hats on to her someday!

Speaking of Jessica, when we were in Salt Lake City almost two weeks ago, Bruce, son Ian, Jessica and I spent a few hours in and around Temple Square, including a brief visit to the Joseph Smith Building, which was formerly the Hotel Utah. It's an elegant and ornate landmark, and has been lovingly restored to its former late 19th century glory. Right smack dab in the center of the lobby, was a large round table with a whimsical hat display. Feathers! Flowers! Velvet! Straw brimmed and sailor style, it was a fun diversion from marble and gilt. I just had to put together a little layout about the hats. The images in the background are from my personal collection: the illustrations are vintage ads from my collection of old magazines. The photo of the ladies is my grandmother (not the one mentioned above), her sister-in-law, and a close friend. I just love those hats!

More Fun At My Ancestors' Expense

I just thought you might be amused at this photo that I have of my Great-Great Grandfather Israel Justus Clark, who obviously was the inspiration, if not the inventor, of soft-serve ice cream.

The Notorious Clark Clan

Just having a little fun at my ancestors' expense.... If I were a real family historian I would have made this layout a bit more informative. But I couldn't resist using the cool window photo to act as a frame for some nice old family photos. This layout celebrates 3 generations of my Clark ancestors: Great-great grandfather Israel Justus Clark, an early Mormon pioneer and Indian interpreter; great grandfather Cyrus Edward Clark who was born (as family legend goes) in the middle of the Mississippi River as the Mormon Saints were fleeing Nauvoo, Illinois during the Battle of Nauvoo in 1846; and grandfather Ernest Ephraim Clark, who was a great hero in my life. Of course there are others in these family photos, but I'll identify them in future layouts and blog posts. For now, I'll just leave you with some old folks in the windows.

Symbols of My Faith

I don't often post on my blog about my faith. It's certainly not because I want to hide it under a bushel. I believe it's more because to many people, religion is a very personal issue, and I have friends, family and readers, who don't share my faith. So, I'll often mention it in passing, but not in depth. Last Monday, our last day in Salt Lake, we spent most of the day on Temple Square, and thereabouts, with our son Ian and daughter-in-law Jessica. It was Jess's first visit to Salt Lake, and we decided to try to see as much as we could. So, we visited the Temple grounds including both Visitor's Centers, and the Tabernacle. Then we visited Deseret Book, the Church Museum of History and Art, the Joseph Smith Building, and the Lion House. We had a wonderful visit! It was very cold and windy, but I think I got some pretty decent photos of many of the beautiful things we saw. This morning, Bruce and I were watching our Church's twice-yearly General Conference on the computer, and I thought I should put some of these images together as I was watching. I love the wonderful architecture and inspiring artwork that means so much to me. My faith grows as I see these monuments to the Savior, the pioneers, and those whose artistic talents created them. My ancestors were Mormon Pioneers, and I feel such a link to them as I look at these treasures. So, here's a little glimpse of some of the inspiring symbols of my faith. (click on the image for a closer view)

She Doesn't Know She's Beautiful

My younger daughter {She who will remain nameless*} is nineteen. She is enormously talented, interesting, and fun. She's artistic, musical, and smart as a whip. {She who will remain nameless} has naturally wavy hair, and enormous green eyes with beautiful lashes. Her skin is porcelain, and she has an endearing, slightly crooked tooth in the front that gives her face character and cuteness.

But {she who will remain nameless} doesn't see the beauty that her Dad and I see. We love every inch of her sweet self. Here's a little layout celebrating the beauty that is {the nameless one}.

*The reason I took A*n*n*i*e*'s name out is because she called me to complain that she doesn't want my sappy layouts to pop up when *someone* (meaning new potential boyfriend) does a Google image search of her name. Imagine, a teenager being embarrassed at her mother's fawning artwork!)

The Sad Little Plum Tree

There's a little crooked plum tree that sits next to the busy Malibu Canyon Road in Malibu, California. I pass it twice a day on my daily commute, and I love to watch the seasons through its spindly branches and brave little spirit. At least I think it's brave... it hasn't actually told me anything, but I can imagine that it must be hard to be so small and misshapen, overwhelmed by the exhaust fumes of thousands of vehicles speeding just a few feet away. Since I've been making this drive over two years now, I've had plenty of time to watch the little tree through the seasons. I never really noticed it until early Spring of 2009. I stopped to take some photos exactly 2 years ago, on April 1, 2009. The beautiful pink flowers were so sweet and soft, with the bright green budding leaves. The photo below was taken that day:

The next year, I kept my eyes open for
the buds to appear, and I was not
disappointed. However, this time,
the flowers appeared earlier. The
next photo was taken March 19,
2010. Again, the tree was covered with beautiful pink blossoms. I stopped several times to take pictures, at different times of day- morning, afternoon, and after dark.

I decided that this tree was my very own special sign of Spring. No one else seemed to take any notice, but that is what makes things special- a hidden treasure, so to speak.

But this year, something different is happening. I have been watching the tree, and the other day, after I returned from Utah, I assumed that it would be in full flower. After all, I had been gone a week. I parked my car around a curve in the road, and armed with my camera, hiked up the road to the tree. I was so surprised, there were only 3 very small buds on the entire tree. It looked as if the entire front section might be dead. The photo at the top of the page was taken in 2010. If you look closely, the part of the tree closest to the camera, and to the ground, might be dead. It's kind of hard to tell, but it's obvious that the rest of the tree is very much alive. I would be so sad if my little tree was no more. So, here's what it looks like this year. I hope I'm very wrong and that all of the rain we've been having, has somehow caused the flowering to be delayed. Maybe it's just gotten old...
So this is the story of the Sad Little Plum Tree.