Flower portraiture – capturing the beauty of a single bloom
Yesterday Woodlake and Hockessin temperatures both registered 84 degrees. Don’t be confused. In Woodlake that temperature is perfect. Delaware sun and humidity mixed to make salt water spring like a national park geyser from my forehead and nose.
After meandering through Pierce’s Woods and visiting his 1730s home, stifling in the tropical section of the Longwood Gardens Conservatory in Kennett Square, PA, we came full circle in the huge conservatory and found this perfect chenille plant. Better known as Acalypha hispida, conservatory designers saved the best of the 1,100 varieties on the 2,000 acres for last.
OK, that may just be my opinion. By the time I found Princess Hispida, I had already taken 177 pictures, was dripping wet, ready to get out of the Conservatory, and stop somewhere for ice cream. I apologised to the princess for my abruptness, bowed low and snapped pictures for the Streaming Thoughts News.
Accustomed to thousands of daily admirers, she took my blubbering in stride. Her red dreadlocks stood out among the competitors and I circled around to capture the exquisite luxurious locks of her highness in numerous shots.
With so many competitors, you often forget their names, or where they sat, as I did with Princes Hispida. If you know the name of the plant, you can find where it is on the Longwood Garden’s website. I did not remember her name. Lucky for me, Google located a long red fuzzy plant in about .5 seconds. In Kennett Square, Pennsylvania, Princess H’s beauty is exotic. In Papua, New Guinea, she and her hardy zone 10 sisters are one in a million.
I wonder if I would look exotic if I moved to Papua, New Guinea. I’ll see if hubby wants to relocate.
Your guess is as good as mine. That’s not true because, after much pondering, I figured it out. The bridge appears to be sitting down on the job. Obviously, we are looking through the looking-glass. Is that Manny skydiving in the reflection? Yes? No? If no, then what?
The bridge appears to be sitting down on the job. Obviously, we are looking through the looking-glass. Is that Manny skydiving in the reflection? Yes? No? If no, then what?
We visited Hoover Dam in September of 2015, and I snapped this picture of the beautiful Mike O’Callaghan-Pat Tillman Memorial Bridge as we drove across on U.S. 93. It looms nearly 900 feet over the Colorado River and is 1,900 feet long, the largest of its type. Built to bypass the original two-lane road across the dam, it handles 14,000 cars and many pedestrians which cross from Nevada into Arizona and back each day. In June of this year, the bridge closed when an unnamed woman tried to jump from it.
“O’Callaghan was a former governor of Nevada and former executive editor of the Las Vegas Sun. Tillman was a professional football player for the Arizona Cardinals who joined the Army in 2002 and was killed in Afghanistan in 2004.”
So what’s your vote? Oddball? or Not?
Here are some more pictures of it.
For more oddball pictures visit Cee and her many contributors.
In Winterthur Garden visit #1, we visited began our tour in the Enchanted Woods. I arrived in Delaware on September 1, too late for spring flowers, and too early for fall trees. Did I enjoy it anyway?
You bet. I hope you will, too.
“Let’s start at the very beginning…A very good place to start.”
Too Many Choices!
Down by the Quarry Garden
On the first day we walked, we headed towards the Quarry Garden. We walked mostly in the shade which meant that we walked for hours in about 75-degree weather. This is heaven for me because it is 75 degrees where I live for about two hours, four days a year.
We had not walked too far when Hal informed me that when he walked with his young Chinese friends, they took off and left him to take pictures while he checked out the various benches. I was quick to take a hint, and I headed off to the Quarry.
As you can see, the gardens were not crowded. We ran into another couple out on their morning walk. A couple of families, thousands of crickets, birds, and other noise makers were there, but other than that we had the entire 1,000 acres to ourselves.
Stones are everywhere in Delaware: streets, houses, churches, fences, and pathways. The quarry must have done a lucrative business. I could not wait to get closer to the stream.
I maneuvered myself along the stone path by the water without falling one time. Since I can fall just standing still, this is quite an accomplishment. I never stand near cliffs or on tall bridges without railings.
Focus on Flowers
Age is not the reason I struggle with names of plants, in fact, names of almost anything. Details escape me. I’m too busy taking in the vista. I hope you’ll forgive me and just enjoy these summer flowers also.
The delicate purple tips fit perfectly on the mild summer day. I traveled light on this trip so I took all these pictures with my iPhone.
The garden was more natural, not groomed like Longwood Gardens. Hal said he would rather have a job here.
The water trickled down the rocks into a larger stream eventually winding down to the quarry lake. As a child, I would have dipped my feet into the water and squished muddy sand in between my toes. I contented myself with admiring flowers.
Time slipped by quickly. I did not worry about Hal. What I really mean is that I forgot about him, but eventually I came back to reality and headed up the hill towards the Enchanted Woods where he waited on a bench watching the kids playing. As I ambled back, every flower along the path called out like a child, “Look at me, Marsha. Take my picture.” So I did.
They did not stay segregated like they were at Longwood Gardens but mingled freely together.
Some of them looked large in the picture but do not be fooled. They were tiny.
If these were children you would rumple their heads, they’re so tiny and sweet. Since they are flowers, I let them be.
As I approached the top of the knoll, I could see Hal enjoying a bench, but I still did not hurry. He seemed to enjoy the fact that it took me so long to get back. We came back for another walk two days later.
Thanks for joining us on our seasonal stroll. Thank you, Hal for such a wonderful day.
Hi, I’m Marsha, sitting on the edge of my seat at the edge of the Enchanted Woods at Winterthur Gardens near Hockessin, DE.
More than one of the du Pont boys who owned DuPont Chemical Company, where my mother’s cousin Hal worked, loved gardens. We were so glad he did as we meandered the broad path around the gardens for about three hours. Yes, we were lost at times. This map did not help.🙂
“Winterthur’s 1,000 acres encompass rolling hills, streams, meadows, and forests. Founder Henry Francis du Pont (1880-1969) developed an appreciation of nature as a boy that served as the basis for his life’s work in the garden.”
Off the edge of the pathway at a middle point in the 1,000 acres of Winterthur was an Enchanted Woods.
Come on chickens. We crossed the troll bridge into the Enchanted Woods. First, let me introduce you to Hal. As some of you already know he’s 91. In his day he engineered hard plastics like you would find in car engines. Although now he is at the losing edge of blindness, he walked three hours guiding me through the gardens at Winterthur. (The blind leading the blind at times)
As we entered the Woods Hal could not resist the first hands-on activity for us kids.
I felt like a kid here. At one edge was a fairy ring. Hal told me not to get too close. But, Hal is blind. What does he know, right? Who can resist advice like that?
I was clearly standing on the edge. What would you do with a sign like that? You can’t read it either, can you? hahaha
Soon I was covered in a mist that spread through the gardens. Everyone passing by knew I had disobeyed the sign. I hoped these were good fairies.
Here are a few more pictures of the fairy ring. These giant concrete mushrooms trapped several gleeful young children. We could hear laughter and see mist filtering through the trees as we walked around.
Lucky for me I run fast! :) That’s it for now. More later.
Did you enjoy your short tour? Did I keep you on the edge of your seat?
I love to walk. Hal, age 91, and I walked for two hours through Winterthur and met a couple who walked there often.
“We walk here and at Longwood Gardens,” they told us.
“Where’s that?” I asked. My mental wheels turned.
“Kennett Square, PA about 15 minutes from here.”
“You’ve never been to Longwood Gardens when you visited before?” Hal sounded incredulous that he could have overlooked something as iconic as visiting Longwood Gardens.
“Never heard of it.”
“Everyone goes to Longwood Gardens. We need to go.”
After years of practicing touring every kind of museum under the sun, the best advice I can give you about touring like an expert is never to think you are an expert. Make comparisons, guesses, then check your facts. If you know you are going somewhere, you can check your facts first, but you’ll probably forget them because you don’t need to know them yet. I love to go in green and come out with more expertise than when I went in.
That being said, you are going to become more of an expert about Longwood Gardens that I was, and can build on the knowledge you gain here.
The Outdoor Gardens at Longwood Gardens.
We arrived at about 11:30, and unlike Winterthur, there were no shady areas in which to walk. The sun warmed us and the water features added humidity to the air.
Pierre du Pont enjoyed water. We came across a lake across from the Italian Water Gardens. Framing the picture on the right is the column of a gazebo. Unless you happen to be a frog, you would not want to jump in and swim in this lake. If you do, you will look like a frog when you come out.
I stood inside the lakeside gazebo to photograph Hal looking at the lake.
What impressed me most about this gazebo was the ceiling’s intricate pattern. Pierre du Pont designed his own gardens and incorporated much of what he learned on his travels to Italy.
With thousands of plants on thousands of acres, it is a photographer’s paradise. I couldn’t click fast enough.
Hal and I wandered into the garden and through the woods until 2:30. We caught the closing chords of the organ concert in the conservatory.
We did not let much grass grow under our feet, but there was some growing over our heads.
The display of flowers on the grounds outside reminded me of Buchart Gardens in Victoria, BC. There is a lot of stonework here in Delaware and Pennsylvania, but this garden is not built into the rock quarry.
Du Pont created the Italian Water Gardens with the most elaborate water show in the world when it was built in 1925-27. He could time the display, much like they do today at the Bellagio in Las Vegas.
Overlooking the Italian Water Gardens is a Canopy Cathedral. What attracted me were the windows. It was not as grand as the windows led me to believe, but it is worth the short climb to go inside to look out over the meadow.
Much of the wood for this structure came from reclaimed wood. The floors came from a toothpaste factory in Toronto, Canada.
Follow me as I go upstairs.
Finally, we look through the beautiful window panes onto the meadow and Italian Water Gardens.
I hope you enjoyed your tour today of the Longwood Gardens. I’ll take you to other parts of it in another post. Stay tuned.
I appreciate creativity but admit that it eludes me.
We drove south from Lahaina to Wailea where movie stars come to Maui and shop at the Shops of Wailea. They close down the mall when someone famous and sensitive come to shop. Nothing is cheap here. Even a little ball of ice cream wrapped in a dough was about $2.00.
It was warm so I sat on the fountain enjoying the tropical breeze with Vince.
Carol Sherritt finished her ice cream, and rushed off, camera around her neck, and began shooting pictures of all the windows.
I must have been blind, I thought to myself. What does she see that I don’t see?
I followed her and started snapping pictures, too, just so I didn’t seem like a stupid travel blogger who did not know what captured people’s interest.
After I watched her excitement I decided that the window was interesting.
What do you think? No, don’t answer that! I’m afraid for you to tell me that I almost missed an opportunity to entertain you.
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Photographers seek to mirror what they see, so in reality, whatever we photograph mirrors life as we see it. Now to dig deeper into the meaning of mirror.
Mirror, Mirror on the Wall
When he was a lad of 53, my husband pursued a quest for perfection. After twelve weeks, he achieved it. The card he gave me for Valentine’s Day reflected his pride. The card showed a young lover gazing into his loved one’s eyes. He asked his true love what she thought he could see reflected in her eyes.
(I imagined some romantic images intended to spark a romantic night.)
Inside the card read, “MYSELF…And damn, I look good.”
When this picture fell out of the card, I had to agree.
Had I gazed into his oiled body, I might have seen myself reflected in it, but I doubt that I would have had the same reaction as he did when he looked into “my eyes!” I had not taken the 12-week challenge.🙂
#Longwood Gardens #1
Reflections at Longwood Gardens
My favorite pictures mirror images that evoke emotion, the thrill, and satisfaction of capturing perfection at last for a millisecond.
This reflected at the Conservatory of Pierre Samuel du Pont, marked the mid-point of a perfect visit to Longwood Gardens. Pipe organ music just finished playing the background.
Passing through the glass doors Hal and I entered the water-lily space or garden of a million mirrors.
To be perfectly candid, I did not notice the mirror images until I looked at the Photo Challenge topic for this week when I got home. The sun got into the mirroring act providing a shadow image of one of the lilies.
While the flower on top is beautiful enough, if you look closely you can see the sky and a tree reflecting what a beautiful day it is in Kennett Square, PA at the Longwood Gardens. Only a couple of places revealed marred perfection. The Tropical Gardens magnified 84 degrees by 100% humidity to produce rivulets of reflecting power on my face, had you been there to gaze into it.
Hal asked me whether I had been to Longwood Gardens before.
When I told him, “No,” he reflected, “What awful tour guide have you had that has neglected this icon of Delaware and Pennsylvania.?”
“No one is perfect, Hal. Even the most dedicated tour guide,” I said mirroring his jocular self-accusation.
This visit was not too late to enjoy the beauty of these gardens mirrored in their watery beds.
It is difficult to discern where the mirroring starts and the underwater growth stops. These three Siamese models are stars of perfection.
Hal told one tourist that she could stand on a lily pad. I’m sure she objected, to his delight.
To prove his point, for Hal likes to be right, he brought along a picture of the young woman he had printed on his computer. True to his promise, she (or rather the picture which mirrored her) stood on the lily pad.
I don’t recommend standing on lily pads for the rest of us. We would surely break the serenity of the water necessary to produce this perfect lily pad reflection. To me, the lily pad looks like the perfect tray for party cupcakes for Alice and her Looking-Glass friends. What do you see reflected here?
Eventually, I will pack my bags and head home to Woodlake, CA. Reflections abound in this classic truck which came to our Woodlake Car Show, even though perfection may be amiss. The mirrors are present, as are the images. Do you see at least two reflections?
If so, please accept the star of Texaco as your reward.
Santa must have found of mirror image of that truck somewhere. This cargo vehicle boasts a mirror as well, but the mirror did not alert Santa to the visitor who knocked at his door. I wonder if Big Ben had been the mirror of perfection all year, or possibly he had been a little naughty and was pleading his case? We would have to ask the Three River’s artist, Nadi Spencer, who drew this picture.
If you headed up to Three Rivers this spring, you would find water in Kaweah Lake almost up to the road mirroring the hills. Last I heard the water level more accurately reflects our CA drought.
Nothing is as beautiful to a Californian than the reflection of a healthy water supply. We live in a beautiful country where every drop of stored water reflects life as well as the beauty you see in the water. Bravo Lake filled this winter.
Bonus reflection – my windshield. My mirror reflects more than just my camera and my beautifully painted red fingernails. It reflects the enormous number of people behind me who come to the Sequoia National Park to reflect on the beauty of our natural resources in America. On Memorial Day the line was five miles long. The line in June when I visited the Park with my brother was shorter.
Thank you to Y. Prior for mentioning me in her blog post on Mirrors.
For more reflections on the word mirror, click here.
It was a beautiful September day outside in San Jose, though a little warm. I had a few hours to kill before Leanne Cole’s plane came in from Australia. We planned to meet up at Starbucks. I was so excited to finally meet her in person.
I stayed at the Hilton next to the McEnery Convention Center in downtown San Jose. It was less than a half mile so I walked to the Tech Museum of Innovation. but it was closed for remodeling.
Dang! It was closed for remodeling. Sounds like my house.
Almost across the street near the San Jose State University campus on 110 S. Market Street sat the San Jose Museum of Art. It cost $8.00 admission for a senior, which I thought was pretty expensive, but I love museums, so I paid and walked in.
I walked over to Radio Man’s glass case and stared at him trying to convince myself that this was really an art museum. I had just passed the blue room, which was just a room with a room-sized box lit with a blue light. hmmm.
“First of all, art does not HAVE to make sense,” Radio Man instructed me.
“You just don’t want to analyze how beautiful and artistic I am. You’re a lazy aficionado,” he continued.
I looked down and shuffled my feet. I wanted to turn away, but Mom always taught me to compliment people – no matter what. I stood there staring at his shoes and duck beak hands.
“OK, ok! You are shiny. I’ll give you that!”
“I had braces as a child.”
“You need to try Invisalign. Your bite is off.”
“What do you know? Most people like my smile.”
“Looks more like a grit to me.”
“A grit? It’s a smile. Don’t I have pretty eyelashes?”
I am not usually mean to robots. What’s the use? I moved on, nodding that I liked its eyelashes.
Highlighting a Woodlake Valley Chamber of Commerce Member
At almost 64 years old, I did not think of myself as “out of shape” when I started training with Melissa Bourn almost a year ago. I walked 3-4 miles a day, worked out once-in-awhile with our home gym, and exercised with my husband in the pool during the summer.
Beginning day one of our training sessions, Melissa started by asking us to stand up from a sitting position on the floor. No sweat, right?
“You can’t use your hands.”
‘Whaaaaaa? No hands? Are you kidding me?”
Why is that important, you might ask?
Melissa trains all ages, but even middle-aged to older people are not intimidated by her encouraging manner. One woman in her 70s came to her, not because she wanted to lose weight, or become a dancing grandma, but because she fell in her house and could not get up. She lay there for several hours until someone found her. As someone who falls a lot, that struck a sensitive chord with me.
Why We Chose Melissa’s Gym
The gym is behind Melissa’s house in Elderwood, making it handy for us. This saves us nearly an hour of drive time to Visalia per visit.
Although Melissa doesn’t have multiple copies of every kind of equipment available on the market, she has every piece of equipment you could imagine needing. My favorite is Bob, a person shaped punching bag.
She also does lots of floor work – meaning equipment optional. This is great because it means when we go home or travel, we can do the same exercises on our own. When I started, I could not do one push up.
She is VERY reasonable. She charges only $150 per month and we go to her three days per week. This works out to about $11 per hour session. “According to Dr. Sal Arria, president of NBFE, the average hourly rate for a trainer is $60-$70 per session. However, trainers can charge as low as $25 per hour, while some high-powered trainers earn as much as $15,000 for a six-week session, depending on geographical location and their experience.
Along the same line of PERSONAL fitness training, any of you who have gone to a personal trainer know that you might work out with 2-5 people. I used to train in Visalia. They offered an “hour” training – one half-hour of supervised exercises (scheduled with one or two strangers) and one half-hour workout on a cardio machine first. Several years ago that was $250 per month if we paid for six months. Melissa gives us an entire hour of PERSONAL training. I share the hour with my husband (our choice). Best of all we pay month-to-month with no contract.
That leads to another benefit. Constantly updating her skills, Melissa varies and tailors the routines for each session. She’s kind of ADHD, but we never get bored. Our bodies never get too used to it either, so every muscle group has to pay attention.
Speaking of muscles, since Melissa monitors us carefully, she notices our form. Many years ago when I was working out with a trainer, one of my friends met me at the gym. She watched me for a while. According to my friend, the trainer did not watch, and my form was less than stellar. Melissa pays strict attention to form. “Flex your foot more. Like this. You’re doing this. Move your hands farther apart.” If something is too hard or too easy, Melissa alters it by having us change the way we stand or hold the weight or rope. Nearly microscopic alterations in form make a huge difference in how the exercise works and feels on our bodies.
The day after the exercise is nearly as important as the day of. When we started, Melissa would call or text the next day to see how we felt. If we could barely move, she changed the routine so that we did not injure ourselves. She has a basic muscle group plan each day, therefore if several people complain about sore legs she takes it easier the next session on everyone unless we ask to be pushed. After nearly a year, she still asks how we are before we start every session.
Communication and concern are Melissa’s fortés. We get texts with at-home exercises, encouraging videos, and diet suggestions.
She runs contests. For example, one contest was for people who wanted to lose or gain weight. My husband weighed in, and she took measurements of his arms, chest, and legs – the areas he wanted to work. At the end of the contest, they measured again, and the one with the most overall body changes won. Vince did not win, but he enjoyed doing it and looks forward to the next one which starts in September.
Moving from contests with each other, Melissa looks for ways to expand people’s personal best. She put together a group to train and participate in a tough muddercompetition. While wallowing in mud does not appeal to me, my husband is very excited about it and has enrolled in the October 8th event in Tulare, CA. We never know what she might come up for us next, but it’s always exciting.
Melissa became a part of the Woodlake Valley Chamber of Commerce in May. She’s busy making a difference by offering a service to help keep Woodlakers healthy. There are plenty of places people can go to work out, but her personal care and attention to detail make Melissa’s Gym unique.
Facebook starting to bore you a bit of late? No problem. Here are some ideas on how to alienate your friends and become a red flag. Adopt one of the following personas and get unfollowed in no time.
1. Be the King of Awesome
Consistently tag yourself in awesome situations, outside of everyone’s reach and reality. Overkill it with your travel photos. Share pictures of the awesome food you eat. Publicly proclaim your love for your better half, who is -of course- equally awesome as you are. Take up the latest trends in everything and share your experience to enlighten the clueless (“Glutten free for 2 weeks now and already feel like a new person”). Don’t neglect to highlight your sensitive side by engaging in some charity (that you can milk to death to further enhance your profile). More importantly: Master the art…
I’m on my way on Thursday to visit Philadelphia and Delaware to see my mother’s only cousin, Hal. He’s 91 now, and he’s planning our trip to Harper’s Ferry. He’s also anxious that I bring Manny. Hmmmm?
Last time I was there I framed him along with Manny. It wasn’t Manny’s fault he likes to climb trees and Hal had to hold him up to keep him from falling out. Hal acted like he did not object to being framed.
Do you think he wants revenge?
Framed again! hahaha, Hal.
Oops, I’d better be careful. He may be older than I am, but he’s a lot bigger – and degrees smarter, but that’s another story.
Since I’m leaving my neck of the woods, I’d love to meet any East Coast friends – who are willing to come somewhere near DE or PA. Any bloggers in the neighborhood? I’d love to meet you.
A friend of mine also told me I need to look up Ben Franklin in Philly while I’m there. Last time I looked up an old relative, Robert Morris. I was too late, He was buried at Christ’s Church. The tour guides let me ring the sister to the liberty bell, though. Very cool.
If you know me, you know I love museums, so I’m sure there are a few of those around.
Have you ever opened the door to a shop and it took your breath away, it was so …. odd?
My friend Sally Pace and I got in her car and drove east on Highway 198 toward the big trees, Sequoia National Park. Our mission, as we chose to accept it, was selling advertising for Kiwanis magazine, “What’s Happening in the Foothills.”
We’re volunteers, you know.
You can’t keep a volunteer on the straight path without them turning their work into an event.
“Hey, Sally, look here. The Doll’s Nest. Ever been there?”
“It looks like someone’s house.”
“Let’s check it out anyway. If they’re not there, oh well.”
We almost did not open the door. It WAS someone’s house. We heard a little voice inside, “It’s open. Come on in.”
We pushed open the door and sucked in our breath.
I’ve never seen so many dolls in my life.
Most, like 99.95% of them, are imported from Russia. Many of them are decades old and were very difficult to get because of international relations between the Soviet Union and the United States.
Bertha and her sister Marilyn started the Doll’s Nest as a hobby. The name fits the shop perfectly. These nesting dolls nest in their living room. See the little guy at the bottom middle of the picture? That’s my husband with blue eyes.
Little Vince is one of the few dolls who doesn’t nest.
According to Bertha, “nesting dolls are hollow wooden figures, with the top portion of the doll coming off, revealing another figurine.”
The Beetles live here along with other famous figurines.
Some of the dolls have their nesting companions laid out beside them like you see with Mr. Walrus. My favorite was the stressed woman whose mood gradually lightened as she thought cheery thoughts.
Ginny dolls caught my attention on the left side of the shop.
Ginny dolls were my favorite dolls when I was seven. Here is why. We had a bond.
I was born with a double harelip or cleft lip. I had to go to the hospital to have my inner lip separated from my gum where it had been sewn when I was born. At age seven, I could smile normally.
No worries, I came out just fine with Ginny by my side.
My smart momma took me shopping to pick out a new doll. We made a day of it. She took me out to eat at L.S. Ayres & Co. at their fancy rooftop restaurant where we watched a fashion show. I also got some new baby doll pjs.
I was soooo excited to go to the hospital. I know, weird, huh?
The hospital had a huge bright playroom, so Ginny and I went right there as soon as I got there. I could not wait to make new friends and show them my new doll.
Ginny and I together had no fear.
If you guys ever need a place to spark happy memories, drive up to Three Rivers and visit the Doll’s Nest. hehehe
Don’t tell, but my brother loved my dolls, too.
If you are NOT a guy who loves dolls, think of it as pure history. Maybe there is somewhere to sit down and play video games on your phone while you wait.🙂
I hope you enjoyed my trip to the oddball shop.
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No, Farrell’s not shy. Neither is Steven, his son. He IS a perfectionist, though, and lots of fun.
I did NOT say he was an oddball!
He just can’t stay out of the crawl spaces. Listen up.
“This is why this subfloor is bulging and spongy.”
“There’s no support. They just put it over a hole.”
I rushed over to take oddball pictures. Farrell ripped off the subfloor panel and ripped out the insulation. I could see that back in the “good ole days,” builders supported the house foundation with wire.
It looked like a fiberglass fish swimming in a sea of dust. Can you see the wire?
You can see where the 1940s house met up with the 1990s house. The fish’s support wire is a little harder to see.
“Look at this, Vince. They used scrap lumber.”
I tried to get a close-up of the scrappy wood. That’s pretty oddball, don’t you think?
Farrell already had it out the door and into the trash. I had to chase it down to prove to you that things weren’t all they were cracked up to be back in the good ole days.
Then Farrell began building a new support for the subfloor.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“They didn’t support the wood floor either,” Vince told me.
Yep, the wire is still there.
Cutting into Farrell’s back.
Whew! Now he could go back and reattach the frame he started in the first place.
He told us about the billionaire who straightened and reused all the old nails he pulled out of one floor.
That’s just one small story. I haven’t even told you all the oddball stories Farrell told us while he worked.
For example, he reminded us not to walk on the new floor. To help us remember he left us this mental picture – the 300-pound woman who walked on the newly glued floor 30 seconds after he told her not to walk on it for 24 hours.
So that’s it for today’s oddball stories.
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If you like Farrell you have to use my name or he won’t call you back. He’s REALLY busy!
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Pretend that you’ve never been to Woodlake, CA. Never even heard of it.
But you want to fly somewhere and have a fantastic breakfast.
You go online. Search for airport cafes. And VOILÁ! There it is!
Frank Holbert from Corona, CA is just like you. He had never heard of Woodlake, CA. Decided to come.
That was in 2008 before it became “THE” pilot’s place to have breakfast and lunch.
I wish I could fly. I don’t.
On Sunday my husband and I drove to the Runway Cafe just south of Woodlake at the Airport right after church. We did not beat the crowd.
It did not matter. Charlotte caught my eye over the crowd milling around the cashier’s stand, “Just two today, Marsha? Gottcha!”
We headed outside and sat at one of the empty picnic tables. Normally we sit out there, but the temperature on Sunday headed towards 108, and HE wanted to sit inside. While we waited we chatted with another couple and pet their large golden retriever.
“I’ve got a Beggin’ Strip for Annie,” Charlotte told them. Annie sniffed around the wood floor for other treats while she waited and we talked.
We did not know the couple before we arrived. They lived in Visalia and came often out to the Runway on the weekends. Like us, they enjoyed the excitement of watching planes and helicopters land.
Runway Cafe is Woodlake City property. In 2014 when Butch Reed and Charlotte Scott decided to look into leasing it, they had six competitors.
But they got it, and the locals were thrilled. Let the good food roll!
One customer said, “It’s a shame! Such good food we pig out!”
Another laughed, “The food was great! Now, we’ve got to find a couch!”
So who comes here, you ask?
Charlotte said, “We get about 15 pilots on Fridays and Saturdays, 10-25 on Sundays, and a total of about 10 during the rest of the week.”
That’s it? Just pilots?
Butch chimes in, “I’m in the hot rod and bike business. I build bikes from scratch. Bikers know me. We get lots of bikers and hot rod guys. For example, the Five of Diamonds Motor Cycle Club of Tulare. They just had a Run and raised $15,000-$18,000. We like to help out.”
Charlotte’s eyes teared as she looked at me.
She said, “I just want everyone in Woodlake to know how much we appreciate them. We are just so grateful”
A large party at the two tables behind us got up to leave. Charlotte stopped our interview briefly to give each person a hug and thank them for coming in.
Butch had a larger vision of “locals” than just Woodlake.
“People drive in from Visalia, Hanford, Porterville, Bakersfield, Reedley – all over. There’s a picture over there in the corner of a couple from Germany. They’ve been here several times.”
I don’t think the German couple is local even if they’ve been here more than once!
Pictures line the walls. Most are of guests who come by plane. One morning when my husband and I came for breakfast Charlotte wanted her picture taken with the pilot and crew. Volunteering to hold the camera, I rushed out with the crew to take the pictures. Charlotte was so busy, she never made it to the picture.
The pilot offered to fly me to Visalia with them. Breakfast was waiting for me. Should I stay or should I go?
I hadn’t said anything to my husband about going. I would miss my great breakfast.
I wished them well and ran back to eat my delicious breakfast.
Butch is so grateful to have the Cafe and the opportunity to serve coffee that he drives to Runway Café at 4:30 AM and works until 7:00 AM. Then he goes back to his Transmission Shop in Visalia and works there. Retirement is not in his vocabulary. Workaholic is.
“I went into partnership with Charlotte because she is the hardest working woman I know. And she’s honest.”
She’s the friendliest person I know. Everyone else follows her example.
Runway Cafe started 40 years ago as Woodlake Outpost Cafe under the ownership of Velma Dearmore. Dora, who owns Dora’s restaurant in Woodlake, had it for a while then Sherry Foreman from the Exeter Whistle Shop ran it after that. It sat empty for a few months. Finally, Butch and Charlotte started running it December 20, 2014. Yelp has given them a 5-star rating, in case you are wondering.
Charlotte said, “We are a team. Owners in other places I’ve worked asked the workers to do things they wouldn’t do. We don’t do that here. I’ve cleaned the grease trap, bathrooms, mopped, swept,, washed dishes, cooked – not as good as Brandon Edmonds, Steve Ferris and Ricardo Bonilla, but I do it. And yes, they are all local.”
Kelly Mittel, one of the waitresses who used to work with Charlotte and her daughter, Charnae Edmonds, left there and came to work at the Runway Cafe. She never regretted her decision.
Kelly said, “You can be yourself here. No uniform. It’s like family here.”
Runway Café supports the community in many ways. Of course, they donate to many causes. Since there is so much foot traffic, it is a favorite place to hang banners and flyers for community activities. They sell the book I wrote, Images of America Woodlake, the proceeds of which go to the Woodlake High School Foundation.
But mostly, they serve good food in huge portions for about $9.00 on average.
“It makes me happy to know that I’ve done something for Woodlake. I’ve helped it to become better known.” Butch said.
In addition to the regular German couple, people from as far away as New Zealand, and Australia have found their way to Runway Cafe for their delicious specials: fish and chips on Fridays, taco salad on Wednesday, and chile verde on Sundays. Other customer favorites include chicken fried steak, sausage patties, and omelets. I like their peach cobbler. Go figure!
The narrow road through the stout trees should have alerted us that the final challenge would narrow down ever further.
Sure enough. It did. Such a narrow passage, we had to fold in our mirrors.
If you are planning a trip to the Redwoods, the Northern California or Southern Oregon coast, you might be interested in more pictures of our road trip three years ago. To read about our Accidental Vacation click any of the links below. What started as a disaster ended up to be one of our favorite trips.