Category: First People

Warmed by Sheep and Artisans

When I was rummaging around my room this morning, I came across this hat that was peeking out of a basket from under other winter wear. It has been years since I paid much attention to it… since I had begun to knit my own hats some years ago.

I, at first, mistakenly identified it as the art of the Cowichan Indians of British Columbia because of the natural colors and unplied yarn used by the tribe to create mostly sweaters and hats.

Sometimes, I’m good at remembering details, but other times, I’m not.

Actually, Jack reminded me that it was the famous Paula Simmons who knit this hat. She was one of the first PNW (Pacific Northwest) artists to raise and shear her own sheep. She processed the fleece, carding, and spinning the fibers, creating the yarn to finally knit garments and accessories like this hat.


With the help of Jack’s memory, he reminded me where we bought this hat. The time frame had to be between 1969 -1972, when we were living in a small house in St. Johns in North Portland. We were just married, and before children. We bought it on a trip to Seattle, Washington, at an art gallery/ craft store at the Space Needle. The store and its name are long forgotten.

Part of my confusion was that I did own a Cowichan Indian sweater, and the hat was created in a similar yarn. I know we bought it before 1972 because I have at least one photo of me wearing it in 1973 – 74, walking through a snowy forest with two year old Hannah, riding on my back. ( I will post the photo when I can find it). That means it would be about 52 years old. (I found it)

The hat, the sweater, the girls, and Skokie the dog

It is knit in unplied and undyed natural sheeps wool. It’s never been washed, and you can still feel the lanolin.  The wool is very rustic and rough to the touch and still causes my forehead to itch, but it’s the warmest hat I own. The wool, in its natural state, is completely waterproof… not water resistant but waterproof.

It is in perfect condition without so much as a moth hole. It could pass for “unused.” This hat is one of my most treasured possessions, and it’s probably worth only a few dollars. The Cowichan Indian sweater was bought around the same time, but unfortunately, it burned in our house fire in 1974-75. I so wish I still had that sweater.

Jack bought the sweater for me when he worked for Norm Thompson. (A thorough history of Norm Thompson Outfitters is interesting and can be found on wikipedia.)

If you’re curious about the Cowichan Indian’s trade in knitwear, please see the following website for more information. Here, you’ll see lots of photos of the sweaters and the knitters, and their fascinating history:  http://knitwithpurpose.com/knitters

I see that the Cowichan Trading Company store, established in 1947 in Vancouver, BC,  has closed permanently. I don’t know what this might mean for the trade in sweaters, but I see that there are stores still stocking them, and there are many new and used online.

Original, authentic Cowichan Indian sweater

All of this interesting stuff because I found my  hat made by Paula Simmons.

A Little Food Adventure ~ Trippin’ with Tracy and Kelly in Arizona Again 2024

Anytime I come to see Tracy and Kelly,  I’m gaurateed to eat really good and interesting foods and to visit some outstanding galleries and such. The photos in this post were taken at the Fry Bread Lounge, next door to the Native Market in Scottsdale.

Tracy and I are showing off our turquoise and silver rings. (Tracy’s has coral, too). Many, if not most, of the art in the market were made by local artisans. It was cool to see their photos and to read the bios. Not your usual tourist trap.

The Fry Bread Lounge is native owned and operated, as is the market. The drinks were so good and unusual. We’re going to try to replicate our favorite when we get to Sedona.

 

There’s me giving some love to Kelly and a couple of shots of the food. The”fry bread flight” came with different sweet and savory dips. I can’t remember the name of the plate, but it was a wonderful mix of hominy, wild rice and vegetables.

If you ever get to Scottsdale, don’t miss the opportunity to visit these outstanding businesses.

Missing from this post are photos of the first restaurant visited when I just got in from Portland. Extraordinay Chinese food at the “Big Buddha”. Not your typical American Chinese food at all. The orange chicken was not drowned in the usual flouresent orange sticky sauce, the egg foo young was … well, how can I describe it? The chop suey was indescribable, as well. Can I just say delicious and surprising? I can’t believe I didn’t take any photos of the food and of the giant Buddha. You know what they say: a picture is worth a thousand words.

Then last night, we drove to Alhambra to eat at the “El Tiburon” (The Shark). Kelly’s sister Mo joined us. This took me right back to Mexico. The building, the colors both inside and out, the dark lighting and disco club flashing lights, the two guitarists standing and singing the music of Juan Gabriel, Rocio Durcal, Marc Antonio Solis, and Pedro Infante.

The outside of the “El Tiburon” is painted turquoise and was festooned in white lights. If Tracy’s friend had not recommended this place, we would never have found it, because how would we know? We ate giant oysters with discs of pulpo (octopus), avocado and fresh salsa, fish fillet smothered in butter, fish tacos in blue corn tortillas, shrimp and octopus cocktails (in glasses the size of a child’s head)… beer, margaritas, and piña coladas.

One marked difference from restaurants in Mexico is that the restroom had toilets with seats.

Why, oh, why did I not take photos? I promise to do better.

Since temps are reaching 111° – 113° daily, here’s us in the pool.

Arizona is a Wonder

My trip to Arizona was amazing. Tracy and Kelly and I visited historic sites to view missions and petroglyphs. We visited mountains and canyons, the desert and rivers and creeks.

We hiked in the Madera Canyon in the Santa Rita Mountains and did a lot of birdwatching. A coati came right to the door of our cabin… not once but three times.

Deer and wild turkeys were abundant as were the afternoon thunder storms with raindrops the size of marbles. The food we ate on our travels was a cultural adventure.

Tracy drove us along the rim of Box Canyon, an adrenaline rush to be sure. Where the road was washed out and only wide enough for the truck, we laughed or held our breath as we looked into the depths of the Canyon, yelling and telling Tracy not to look but to keep her eyes on the road.

The skies in Arizona are wide and blue or black with giant storm clouds the size of mountains. The roads are strewn with washes and signs warning of flash floods and cattle wandering the open ranges.

I greet the saguaro as we pass by. They seem like old friends and maybe ancestors. I love all of the cactus that I see as we drive long, long stretches of road through the reservations and small towns and seeming nothingness except the land, the mountains and sky. But there’s something special about the saguaro that I can’t explain.

Though October is rattler explosion time, I thankfully didn’t see a one and I thankfully didn’t see not even one bear or big cat. The universe heard my cry.

We knew the elusive Red Start  was near because we could hear it’s song. We were never able to spot it until moments before we left the cabin when it hopped upon our door jamb as though to mock us and to say goodbye.

Back home we visited the Cosanti studio again where they bought me another bell. We swam in the pool and looked at the sky and read the books we bought along the way. We watched a movie or two and discussed life in general and in particular as we loved on the three old dogs and cats.

Times like this change our lives forever.

What are You Saying When You Fly the American Flag? Think About It.

Just thinking this morning… as you display the American flag for the 4th of July… contemplate for just a moment about what that flag really represents.

Think about being of a global mentality, not nationalistic, not patriotic, not about building walls to shut people out, not about killing people who are not like you, not about who’s stealing your jobs, not about robbing other people of their natural resources and occupying land that we are not invited into.

Think about, just for a moment, how our country was founded on the usurping of land that was already occupied and the mass murder of First Peoples already living on this continent for our (that’s you, white people) own gain.

Think about the Black people who were brought here as slaves, not paid, not free, not welcomed, not loved, not equal. Thnk about the new Jim Crow. Think about, still, how they are singled out for failure and are still not accepted as equals… equal in anyway.

Think for a moment about your heritage… where your people came from… if you are not native. How did your people get here? Weren’t they immigrants?

Think about our young men and women who have been sacrificed because our military and corporate government commands them to war. Think about the making of more and more disillusioned and suicidal veterans every day, every year, every decade, every century.

Think about how, instead of us being the salvation of the world… a great country that others can look up to, we are becoming more and more feared and hated and becoming a political laughing stock in the world.

Think about how worried you are about corporate greed and the destruction of the environment for economic gain for a few. Think about how hard it is for us to find well paying jobs, affordable housing, affordable health care, a decent and an equitable education for all. Think about the failing infrastructure, not just in your city but, nation-wide.

Think about big pharma and the drugging of America. Think about GMO and the poisoning of our food and water and how we don’t seem to have any control and how our sustenance has been usurped by Monsanto and other large corporate chemical companies.

Think about a lot more as you raise that American flag in the next couple of weeks. Think about whether you are really proud of what we have become. Think about the future of our children and our grand children and future generations. Think about whether we can heal the wounds of the American people inflicted by the wealthy and powerful.

Think about what you might do to change this; change this with your neighbor, your colleagues, your co-workers, your family, your friends… Think about how you might help to open a few eyes, to open a few arms, to open a few hearts.

Think about speaking up when you hear hate talk. Speak up when you see injustice. Speak up when more war is begun and more war continues. Speak up when sick people want to rule America.

Think about what you are saying when you fly that flag. Think about what our flag means to the other… the disenfranchised, those who stand at the end of a loaded weapon held by an American on their own soil… in their own houses, those who are suffering war at our hands. Think about what the other might think that we deserve…

Think about it…