Schools Out

The sun came out, the fog left and the chill lessened. We enjoyed playing tourists over the weekend, starting with an excellent history tour of Mendocino. In the forty plus years we have come up here, we were too busy having a good time to learn about the town.

Jeff, our guide, made learning about the town a good time. From its early days as a lumbering town to its virtual abandonment during the depression to its revival as an art community by SF beatniks to its tourist and art status today, the buildings have remained. They bear the names of those early lumber families such as Kelley, Ford and Mac Callum and those who supported them, such as Doctor Whitegate.
Our visit to the Dao temple was most interesting. Over the years we had gone by the small colorful building but ignored it. Inside, the temple is filled with the small statues, incense, and tributes, in paper and produce, that are part of the Dao ritual. The docent and her sister are the sole remaining descendants of the early Chinese community that lived on the outskirts of town.











Jeff led us quietly into the Presbyterian Church, where choral rehearsal for the Mendocino Music Festival was in session, to see the bell pull. No ordinary pull this one. Instead it is a one-of-a-kind history of the USA in macrame, including muted colors for the Great Depression, the glaring brightness of the Age of Aquarius and culminating with a piece of tile from the space shuttle.











After lunch at the Mendo Deli, we wandered the shops of town. There used to be three excellent galleries that included wood furniture in the exhibits. That number is down to one but what beautiful pieces they have. We were also attracted to the word “sale” in a clothing shop (souvenirs). After all that walking, we just had to have a bit of ice cream to rejuvenate.
As with the history tour, we made a discovery of an Italian seafood restaurant that had only been in Noyo Harbor for sixty years. Family run, the atmosphere was as good as the food. The proprietor, a third-generation matron, expects us back again this week.


The Noyo River flows between Mendocino and Fort Bragg. The tiny fishing village suffers from the ban on salmon fishing. Crab boats and tourism keep it going. Jerry recalled fishing trips with Saul and whaling viewing with Anna Lee (both trips included unhappy tummies, though not for Jerry.)
On Sunday, we drove the spectacular Highway 1 down the coast. Then we turned inland along the windy, tree lined road to Hendy Woods State Park and walked trails through towering old growth redwoods. In case you were wondering, Anna Lee still likes to hug the trees.

These, and others in state and national parks, are but a small remnant of the giants that once filled the west coast from California to Washington.

Mendocino through the years

Anna Lee writes nostalgia:
We started coming up here in the 60s. One of the family attractions has been the Skunk Train, an old steam train. Jeff was barely walking when we took him on his first train ride. Later, when we traveled in a tent trailer, nearby Van Damme State Park was a long-weekend favorite destination. We’d walk the fern lined trail and wander the galleries of town.
Lumber was the main industry in nearby Fort Bragg and we enjoyed, yes, enjoyed, touring the mill and seeing all the big, loud equipment sawing trees into wood planks for plywood. The mill is gone and in three days I have counted three trucks with lumber. They are still cutting but the industry is not so obvious and tourism has taken its place.
Mendocino, always caught up in bohemia, is still funky. Those of you who have never visited may know it as Hollywood’s idea of a New England village in the opening of the show Murder She Wrote.

Back then the Art Center showed movies. Jeff and Cheryl enjoyed The Wonderful World of the Brothers Grimm from the comfort of bean bag chairs. Now the bean bags have been updated to semi-comfortable theater seats for plays. Mr. Marmalade, the play we saw, was also a bit odd though well performed: the story of a four-year-old and her imaginary friends who speak and live very adult lives.
When our children grew up, went to camp or became old enough to leave at home, we came up alone and with friends. We enjoyed staying at Hill House with Saul and Donna. There was a great ice cream shop that we always patronized.
Local restaurants continue to be excellent. We celebrated Father’s Day, sans children, at Café Beaujolais where the salmon and sturgeon were wonderful. Margaret Fox, a disciple of Alice Waters of Chez Panisse, emphasized fresh local produce as well as local seafood. She no longer owns the restaurant but works at the Harvest Market, an excellent grocery store, where I always purchase edible souvenirs of our visit.
Jerry made reservations at the Albion River Inn for our anniversary. We have fond memories of dining there with many friends. Even with the fog grey skies the gardens put on a colorful display. Dinner was excellent, mushroom and fennel soup, steak for him and ling cod for me. Then we were compelled to share a chocolate mousse.

Sad to say, Heritage House, an old inn featured in Same Time Next Year and a popular wedding and celebration spot for about fifty years, has closed.
This morning the fog lifted for a while and I returned to Pomo Beach where the bird calls out rang the buoy bells and boats with tourists or seeking fish and crab had returned to the water. When the skies got grey again, I went to fulfill a personal commitment.
One of my favorite places to visit is the Mendocino Yarn Shop. Annelle is a delight and has some fabulous yarns. I was not there to shop but to finish one of three dangling projects. This one was with yarn bought here four years ago. It will be done by the time I return which means I may have bought yarn for another project as a reward.
Jerry writes:
Class is still great. The small table we are going to start on tomorrow is far more complex than it looks. It is based on a 15th century Ming design that Yeung has updated. It is the jointery (how it is put together) that is the important lesson. The idea is that the legs are angled out 1.5 degrees off center so, in order to get everything to fit right, everything has to be cut at a 1.5 degree angle.

That small offset doesn’t seem like much but to get all the parts to fit to fit together is a challenge. By the way, if you look at the photo of the table, it does not look like it is made up of 33 separate parts all dovetailed into each other at that small 1.5 degree angle. To take it apart, you have to do it in the right order, much like a Chinese puzzle.

In class today we were lusting over new equipment. I was looking at a Felder saw that they have here in the shop and thinking about trading my Delta in on one. Unfortunately, when I mentioned the idea to Anna Lee she took a dim view of my spending $14,000.00 on a new saw. Oh well, I guess I will have to live with what I have.
I did finish my chisel and knife.

I have a couple more chisels that I am working on and hopefully will finish them tomorrow so I will have a complete set.
Anna Lee wrote about coming to Mendocino over the years and we all really enjoyed the area. This is the most beautiful coastline I have seen and, in the right light, you can get great photos.
Anna Lee continued:
Jerry invited me to the class lecture and demonstration on the breaking down of the table. No longer can I scoff about it being a little project. The pieces he mentioned are intricately connected and required precise positioning and angles. I will be impressed if anyone in the class can master even a part of this project in the short time they have. This is a lesson in process not project. By the way, Jerry and I traded cameras and I am finding a whole different view out there.

A foggy day

Anna Lee writes:
A typical day on the north coast: The drone of the fog horn. The clang of the buoy bell. A squadron of pelicans. The pose of a seagull. The splay of yellow, white and purple flowers. The gentle nip of cool air. All these blended together to make the fog shrouded coast gorgeous.



Jerry writes
Today was the second day of class where we continued to work on our knives and chisels. We learned how to mount the knife in a wooden handle and then shape the handle to individual hands. Sounds kind of nominal but there is a lot to doing the shaping for individual hand sizes and the session was very interesting.

We had a special guest today. Mrs. Krenov came by to see what was going on. She is the widow of James Krenov who started the school. He was one of the giants of furniture making who used to come in every class and meet the students. His work now sells for six figures in New York. Anyway, his wife is a very pleasant lady and here is a picture of her with Yeung Chan, the teacher in this class.

My knife is coming along and tomorrow I hope there will be a finished photo of it. Here it is at the moment with the knife installed. It has come a long way from the bare piece of steel we got yesterday morning.

The chisel will take a bit longer because, here, rather than use machines, you have to sharpen it with water stones and that is a very time consuming procedure. The steel I got had some deep groves in it and it is taking some time to lap them out.

Fort Bragg, California

Anna Lee writes:
We enjoyed our brief time at home and the chance to see friends even for a short time. Back on the road, we will remain in one place for two weeks, a long time for our style of travel.
We are in Mendocino County and each going our own way. Jerry will explain what he is doing while I tell about my time here. My intent is to enjoy the wonderful scenery, write and read, tough job. This is our third time in the area, each time for Jerry to go to wood school. Our campground is in Fort Bragg, a former lumber town now tourist town and home to the College of the Redwoods (see Jerry).
This area, along the North Coast of California, is at least twenty degrees cooler than the central valley. The coastline is rugged with rocks sticking out and waves crashing on the shore. The beach is not for swimming but for savoring the magnificent views.

On my first walk about town, I was pleased to see that almost all the places I remembered from four years ago remain. They seem to have weathered the changes in the economy. Anxious to see the ruggedly beautiful Northern California coast, I walked along Glass Beach. Allegedly it was named for the shards of glass that fell off ships and tumbled ashore but, in truth, just an old dump now cleaned up. The beach is now a state park so no collecting is allowed (though it does seem to occur).



Jerry writes:
Today was the first day of a class I am taking at the College of the Redwoods School of Fine Woodworking. I have taken several classes here over the years and this one appears to be the best one yet. It is taught by Yeung Chan, who is from China (how did you guess) and likes to make his own tools in addition to doing artistry with wood. Our first project is to make a marking knife and a 3/8 inch chisel. I did the knife blade today and will work on the chisel tomorrow then start on the woodworking part of the project. Here is a picture of Yeung’s tool cabinet that he brought to show us what can be done.

Also, here is a photo of a miniature cabinet that he made just as a lark. Take a look at the dovetails on the drawer as compared with the quarter next to the leg.




He makes his own tools because no one makes what he wants to use. Just in case you need a small plane for a particular job, this one fits inside its own cabinet in the chest in the photo above.


Once we finish this part of the class, we will make a small table using Chinese jointery. Here is a picture of the table.

Yeung demonstrated it by standing one it. No big deal except that none of the joints are glued up or fastened in any way. The table can simply be taken apart and put away for storage or transport. Yeung is a true artist who left China when they would not let him go to engineering school because his family made their living as farmers. He came here with a high school education and no money. Some years later, his son just got his Ph.D. from MIT. Let those who complain about America name another country where that is possible.

Home Again

We were welcomed back to Rocklin by a family of quail who have taken over our back yard. Dad proudly posed for us as he stood on the fence guarding his family. Mom would not give permission to photograph the four fuzzy chicks.

Coming home means connecting with friends and neighbors, catching up on news good and sad, and doing needed chores. We enjoyed being with members of the “Couples Club,” a decades-old group of friends. Walking around the neighborhood caught us up on homes newly painted and adorned with spring flowers.
We are home briefly as we leave on the weekend for two weeks in Fort Bragg, CA. Jerry has to go back to wood school, more on that next week. In the meantime, we will enjoy the “normality” of home.

Along I 80 heading home

Ogallala, Nebraska surprised us with something interesting things to see. This bronze cowboy on his horse stands over the tombstones of boot hill. Most of the residents were moved to another cemetery years ago.

Jerry had a talk with the service man at the old gas station, now a visitors center.
We were beginning to regret the disparaging remarks we have made about Nebraska and planned a trip up a scenic byway.

Forgiveness was not in order as a fierce thunderstorm flooded out the road we were going on. Instead we were blown into and through Wyoming and landed in Salt Lake City.
This was a true lemonade opportunity. A local tour brocure listed Antelope Island in the Great Salt Lake. What an unexpected discovery. A causeway leads from the mainland onto the island, formerly a Mormon ranch and now a state park. The island has a large herd of bison, some pronghorn antelope, big-horned sheep and mule deer. The latter two were absent from our view but the bison and their babies made up for what we missed.


This island is a birders’ dream. The insects have begun to swarm and birds are everywhere. This curlew played wounded dragging its wings on the ground to draw us away from its nest.


The Garr Ranch remains much as it was when the residents left in the 1950s.
Our only regret was that we did not know there was a campground on the island. Since we were at a Walmart in Salt Lake City, we took ourselves out for dinner. While the sushi at Ichiban, housed in a former church, was good, we prefer the Japanese restaurant we went to last time.

Art Day in Des Moines

Who would have thought a city in the middle of the corn belt could have such good art. We started our morning downtown at the Pappajohn Sculpture Park. Our pictures speak better than words.





















































The weather was beautiful so we enjoyed a picnic in the park next to the Art Museum. The building had three designers, Eliel Saarinen, I M Pei and Richard Meier. The collection consists of one or two major works each by preeminent artists. Photos are not allowed so names such as O’Keeffe, Johns, Monet, Matisse, Rodin, and Davis, CA’s Arneson will have to do.



Next to the museum is a lovely rose garden that had been treated poorly by all the heavy rain we have experienced. The sculpture was fun though. Further down the area is a park lush with native plants and whose trails seem to go on for miles.

Des Moines times four

As mentioned earlier, we are in Iowa for the fourth time in a year. Yes, we have traveled through many places repeatedly in the past year, but Des Moines is the only one where we keep finding good things to do. What we thought would be a “drive by” photo op turned into a full-tour of the state capital.

The building is quite ornate with marble, granite and even gold leaf ornamentation. The ninety-step climb to the Whisper Gallery in the dome provided a steep view from the Civil War flag on the top to the inlaid floor way down below.

Jerry admired the wood carved bench in the former Supreme Courtroom and the beautiful law library with its iron worked spiral staircases.

































Andie and Steve accuse us of never missing an opportunity to visit a museum. We planned to spent a few minutes at the Iowa Historical Museum and wound up closing the place down; so they must be right. The extensive exhibit on the Iowa Caucus explained in graphic detail the process of the first act in our presidential candidate selection.

It may be because George Gallup was a native son, the Caucus exhibit includes stations where visitors could vote in polls on such current issues as social security, immigration, abortion, and Iraq.
Iowa dealt with Civil Rights laws decades before the US government. Robert Patton, a black printer, collected items from the bad and good history of African Americans in Des Moines. He never achieved his goal of a museum but the display of his collection tells a powerful story. Running out of time, we hurried through the excellent but small Native American, Iowa history, and “Rarely Seen Cool Stuff” exhibits.
Among the rare stuff was this beautiful art piece. Does anyone have any insight as to what medium to artist used?

Continuing to test restaurants, we enjoyed Jack Daniels marinated steak (Jerry) and Parmesan chicken (Anna Lee) at Court Avenue Steak and Brewery Co. Their local brews are very good. We couldn’t resist the chocolate chip cookie dough in a won ton for dessert (sounds better than it tasted).

Back in Iowa

Chasing more architecture, we took a detour into Grinnel, IO to see this Jewel Box Bank by Louis Sullivan of Chicago fame.


We keep coming back to Des Moines because there really is a lot to see and do. We are staying in the Iowa State Fair Grounds right in the middle of town. These fair grounds offer full hookups at a good price and we are finding them great places to stay, especially in cities.


The Water Works Park teems with Canada geese preparing their young for adulthood. We found both quite young and more teenager types.

We heard and saw another gorgeous bird at the Art Museum. We think it is a cardinal, confirmation or correction requested.

The Historic Valley Junction, previously a railway yard, now has streets lined with restaurants. As the hot, humid day cooled down, outdoor seating was a premium. The Interstate 80 Spaghetti House had long lines so we joined in and had delightful salads, chicken and pasta with a bit of leftover for later.