rDay Twelve-Hundred-Fifty-Two: Ivi Departs

After a whirlwind two-and-a-half days (documentation to follow soon), Ivi returns to Seattle this morning:

And it’s back downtown to the workspace:

rDay Twelve-Hundred-Fifty-One: Palouse Falls

On the last full day of Ivi’s visit, we take off in light early morning rain for the 55-mile trip northward to Palouse Falls State Park. As we wind through the back roads (Hwy 124), the post-dawn sun explodes with a seldom-seen intense gold, combining with the subtle tint of the glass for a remarkable bit of windshield photography color and ambience.

The light returns pretty much to normal by the time we arrive, graciously and adeptly driven by Ivi herself. During our time at the Falls, we manage to avoid falling down the vertigo-inducing cliffs and Kim spots and documents a coyote.

On the return we stop at a park marking the confluence of the Palouse River (aka Drewyers River) and the Snake River amd the point where they branch off to/from the Columbia. Or something like that. Our return loops around Hwy 12 through places like Starbuck, Tucannon, Dayton and Waitsburg — but for some reason, I cannot locate most of the photos taken on that leg. So it goes.

[Action: 8/27/2018 - Posted: 10/13/2018]

rDay Twelve-Hundred-Fifty, Part I

On this first full day of Ivi’s quick visit from Seattle, we head out for some local travel, starting with Madam Dorian Park and Lake near Wallula Junction.

[Action: 8/26/18; Posting: 9/19/18]

rDay Twelve-Hundred-Forty-Nine

Ivi flies in from Seattle this morning.  And we pick her up!

Later on, a walk around the house and around the neighborhood:

rDay Twelve-Hundred-Forty-Eight

This morning, barely underway on my walk to my downtown workspace and still on our street, I chance upon Ian and Laura and … the Giulia.

Okay, we all know that cars are just “things”.  But from some of my earliest childhood memories, they also represented a vehicle (whoops, wrong word) to the larger outside world, an escape from the farm and a ticket to new experiences.  As a young kid, I spent hours drawing futuristic car designs (once entering in the Fisher Body Craftsman’s Guild competition), sitting behind the wheel of my uncle’s Mercury and watching TV productions like the 50’s play in which a mentally-challenged adult cared for by his parents in the rural South would escape for a few minutes now and then to the rusted remains of an old car abandoned in a wooded clearing and twist the steering wheel while pretending to be on a trip to the “far city”.

Turned out that Ian and Laura were house hunting on our street, but were happy to pause to show me around the car and encouraged me to sit behind the wheel.  So, out of common courtesy to my brand-new acquaintances, I was forced to oblige.

SIDEBAR: By the time I had prepared this post, I realized that I had intended it for my car blog, not the family blog.  But moving the thing is just too much trouble … So, fwiw …

And in further developments as I continue my morning trek …