Doodlebugs

Doodlebugs 1

I’ve always managed impulse control pretty well but Doodlebugs on Washington Street severely tests me. I’ve got a habit and they have my fix. You may know me as a photo blogger but I spend a lot of time — and an inordinate amount of money — making greeting cards.

Doodlebugs 2

I’m addicted to rubber stamps. And dies. And designer paper. And embellishments. And alcohol ink pens. And a lot more stuff than you’re probably interested in reading about. Doodlebugs, owned by a family of very nice and exceedingly talented people, has it all. And if they don’t have it they’ll get it for you. (Their customer service is truly awesome.)

Doodlebugs 3

If you don’t know how to do something they can usually demonstrate it to you. Chances are they may even offer a class. And if all else fails, buy a coloring book, sit down, and color. It’s supposed to be very soothing.

100 years

Olympic Mountains

I’m belatedly observing the 100th anniversary of the U.S. National Parks System. I coincidentally woke up on the anniversary — August 25th — away from home, camping, something I’ve done most of my life.

I’ve visited over two dozen national parks. Luckily for me there are a lot of them in the West. These are the places that have formed the backbone of my visual vocabulary and have created the best, most vivid of my memories. It’s no coincidence that I’ve chosen to live near the foot of the Olympic Mountains and Olympic National Park.

Ruby Beach

Olympic National Park stretches from the wild Pacific coast inland across the peaks of the Olympic Mountains. Majestic. Incomparable. Like other National Parks, ours allows visitors to breathe in and experience nature, to find peace and stillness, to reconnect with themselves and their world.

Hoh rain forest

Our forests are filled with beauty and magic. Trails stretch onward for miles. Where they take you is as much a matter of destination as it is where you allow yourself to venture.

Yard art

Viking yard art

I wandered into a garage sale last week. As I walked back to my car I was startled to look up and see this fierce looking Viking across the street. I didn’t take his measure but guess he must have been at least eight feet tall.

Viking yard art 2

It was a fairly detailed carving. I will reserve comments on the fallacy of Vikings wearing horned helmets beyond this: they didn’t.