Hiking at Project Patch Family Conference Center

Wood art made by Robbie, who works at the conference center

One of the delightful things at the family conference center near Goldendale is the land and wildlife around it. We had heard about a tall waterfall on the property, and wanted to go see it. A guy named Garry has worked there for the past six years, helping with the building of the conference center. They told us Garry knows “everything” about the property, and he seemed happy to take us on a hike to see the waterfall and property. My colleague Glenn joined us for the hike, rounding out our pleasant little group.

I invite you to come along, too.

First we pass the cabin where Husband and I stayed. It’s a lovely and simple little place with a bedroom, bathroom, and front room with kitchenette and sitting area.

The dirt road slopes down behind the lodge on its way to the creek.

From the lodge you can see Mount Adams, capped by clouds for about half the time we were staying at the retreat center. There was a lot of snow last winter, and it's still wrapped around the shoulders of the mountain. Husband climbed the mountain in his younger days, and tells a harrowing story of glissading down the mountainside on his way down, scaring him spitless. Apparently it’s the typical way for climbers to get down quickly and "easily."

Down by the creek, I spotted a ponderosa pine and stopped to sniff the crack in the bark. Sure enough, there was the lovely scent of vanilla. Depending on the tree and the crack you sniff, you can catch a whiff of vanilla or caramel.

The bark of the ponderosa pine is made up of puzzle-like pieces, which give the trunk a wonderful, textured look.

Glenn spotted a gall on a young oak. This is made when a wasp secretes a chemical into the oak and then lays its eggs. The tree creates this big gall around the eggs, and after two years or more, they hatch out. What an odd thing!

Walking downstream, we came to a picnic area that Garry has built, named Tupper Park. In the evening our group walked down the hill to have evening worship by the campfire, followed by a time of enthusiastic S’mores-making by the kids and helpful adults.

By the park is a bridge over the creek, which we crossed later as we took a different route back to the lodge.

At one point on the trail, the men stopped, looking up at the hill. What were they looking at, I wondered?

A deer! Do you see it? It seemed as interested in the guys as they were in the deer.

I love the summer wildflowers, especially the ones that are deep colors, as this cornflower is.

This year, the rains having been so prevalent throughout the spring, there are lovely wildflowers everywhere. This columbine was found in the woods not too far from the creek.

And then we got to the waterfall! It’s 56-feet high, and we looked down on it from above.

The guys stopped to discuss how the waterfall came to be, prompted by Garry’s question: How did it carve out that bowl into which it falls on its way to the Little Klickitat River?

Down the way from the falls, the stream joins the Little Klickitat River with its smaller falls, which are not easily accessible.

Finally, we took a different route back through grasses that shoved their little pointy noses into our shoes and refused to back out without much persuasion once we were back. Having gotten hot and sweaty and simply wanting to get back to "camp," this was the last photo I took on the way back from a truly delightful hike. How blessed people are who get to live here at the family conference center year-round!

A Golfing Tale

Inside the lodge at Project Patch Family Conference Center

Every year the President takes my colleagues and me on a team-building retreat. This year it was decided that we would go to a brand-new family retreat center near Goldendale, Washington. The purpose of the center is to bring in families that are starting to get into troubled waters, and to put them through experiences together that help them learn to interact in more constructive ways. But the center is also available for other retreats and seminars. We were the second group to use these beautiful new facilities.

After dinner on Sunday evening, we visited the Goldendale Observatory. That experience was its own creator of one-liners ("...and that's why we can proudly display the IDA logo"), for which you really had to be there to get it. But the touristy activities weren't done yet. The next morning, we set off as a group to play 9 holes of golf at the local Country Club.

Now, I must confess that I have never in my life gone golfing. My game is mini-golf, not the regular sort where you thwack the ball across a mile to the next green. I was dubious, but wisely recognized that this was an important bonding opportunity with colleagues that I must not miss.  Besides, there were children going, and it was going to be easy as we played "best ball," which means that everyone in a foursome hits the ball, and then the whole group moves to where the best ball has landed for their second hit.  I ought to be able to handle that, right?

We started with young Nick teeing off.  His form looked pretty good for a kid going into 1st grade this fall.

Katie, a junior high student, looked pretty good, as well.

Then I teed off--there's no picture of that one--and I'd be blazingly optimistic to say that it went more than 15 yards in the direction of the green. I couldn't even see the green, it was so far away.

Now there were experienced and adroit golfers among us. Specifically, my boss has the game down pat. Don't let the ball in front of him fool you. He was just doing a practice swing.

We wandered along from hole to hole, with me hitting my ball hither and yon, but neither hither nor yon in ways that led my group onto the green. Had it been solely up to me, every one would have been a par in 10.  It was getting hot. The sprinklers came on and we had to walk through them. My water bottle fell into the bottom of the golf bag, and I didn't want to let anyone know I'd lost it. It's not elegant to turn your golf bag upside down and shake everything out. To add insult to injury, I dragged my bag of clubs on wheels across the green, not realizing that golfers would think me gauche and rude. We stopped to let group after group play through; otherwise, we would have had a whole string of angry retirees behind us, waiting and waiting and waiting.

On this ninth hole I asked my colleague, Glenn, to record my prowess on camera. I was looking across those weeds at a large pond between me and the final green. Let me just admit right up front that I was mighty relieved that we were finally at the end of our game after spending nearly four hours on the golf course.

I predicted that I would just throw away a golf ball, trying to hit it across that pond. None of my hits had done much better than my first. And take a gander at that form! I really should have respected myself as a mini-golfer and stayed away from the big boys' game.

This was my first hit, and as you can see, it rolled about two feet. They made me try again.  Sure enough, off it flew, about 10 yards away and down into the bullrushes.

Luckily, Mrs. President is an intrepid woman. She waded into the bullrushes and swished about in there for a minute or so, coming up triumphantly with my little white orb, neither of them seeming the worse for the wear.

And so ended my career as a big game golfer. I shall not go again, except as a caddy for someone who golfs really, really fast. After all, one must be humble enough to recognize one's weaknesses, and re-employ oneself in more useful ways.

Secrets and Disclosure

On display in my sister-in-law's window in Seattle

He said to them, "Do you bring in a lamp to put it under a bowl or a bed? Instead, don't you put it on its stand? For whatever is hidden is meant to be disclosed, and whatever is concealed is meant to be brought out into the open. If anyone has ears to hear, let him hear."  Mark 4:21-23

There have been a number of stories in the news in the past few years about situations in which someone had a secret, and it became public knowledge. Several of those were politicians who have had a mistress on the side, a "love child" (shouldn't a child born in a loving marriage also be able to lay claim to that moniker?), or a habit of sending unseemly photos of themselves to others. In addition, there are high-profile people who have secretly been bilking others of money or property in some form or another. In all of these stories, the culprits tried to deny their secret as it came to light, then were shamed, and innocent people have suffered great pain because of their actions.

I have come to believe that while there are some people who don't carry secrets, there are not families without secrets. We as humans are too fallible, too self-serving, too fractured to not possess family stories that we wish to hide from others. In most cases family members know of the secrets, but don't share those things publicly.

And that is probably wise. The principle behind not displaying everything for anyone to see is the same principle that causes us to clothe ourselves, to guard the privacy of our diaries and journals, and to close the door when we enter our bedrooms. Some things are simply ... well ... private knowledge.

Nevertheless, as one of our pastors pointed out recently, secrets should not remain completely undisclosed. For the sake of our own health and growth, for the sake of our own freedom, we need to make confession.  "I don't think we have to be transparent with everyone," said the pastor, "we just need to be transparent with someone." Whether that sharing is with a trusted friend, a counselor, or the person we've hurt, we should not bear a burden of a secret alone.

There is good reason to confess. Jesus pointed out that "whatever is hidden is meant to be disclosed, and whatever is concealed is meant to be brought out into the open." In the long run, nothing stays hidden forever.  Secondly, we need to be free of our secrets in order to be healthy. "There's a correlation," said our pastor, between light and healing.  When we confess our sins and bring them out into the light, they lose their power." While confession may not make a person feel better, it should provide a sense of freedom.

This would seem quite straightforward, but the topic can become complex. Complex in what way?  Here's an example:

I found out some years after leaving a vice-principal job that a student office worker was sneaking into records on my desk and changing them so as to advantage himself and his friends. I felt so betrayed and hurt by the abuse of my trust and high esteem of the student, it really has done no good for me at all. If the student had come and told me himself about it, making contrite confession, I would have forgiven, but I think it would have still left me disappointed in him. Depending on how his motivation came across, I might have still thought less of him for his action.

There are, of course, other kinds of betrayals that hurt much worse than the one I described. Must these sins be confessed to the person who was betrayed, if that person doesn't know about it?  I am convinced that they must be confessed to someone. But I am not yet convinced that one needs to confess directly to the person who would most be harmed by the betrayal.

For example, should a person confess to a spouse one indiscretion or affair from many years ago? Depending on the circumstances, if the betrayed spouse is likely to never, ever find out about it, is it necessary to confess to him or her? (I'm picking out the most egregious betrayal I can think of, as the example.) I've had conversations that have made me wonder if it's best to leave someone unenlightened as to a dishonest act against them. I'd be interested in what my readers think.

In any case, I do believe that someday all things will be disclosed, that there is a judgment day, and thus there is reason for at least one kind of confession, for freeing oneself of the burden and opening the heart to grace and growth. As the pastor said, "Keeping secrets takes all the energy you would need to reach out and find healing." Yep. A lot of us need to reach out and find healing. I'm just grateful that it's there to be found.

Then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the LORD.” And you forgave the guilt of my sin. Psalm 32:5

Blossoms on Birch

Want to walk to work with me? I often take Birch on the way to work, because there's not much traffic on that street. And the nicest thing to do in the summer is to enjoy the flowers in the yards along the way. So I'll take you along with me, as I walked to work today.

We start with roses, which thrive in our valley. I wish you could smell them.  I don't stop to sniff them on Birch, but Husband and I always stop by a yard on the corner of 12th and Larch and smell every single rose we can reach, as they're planted all along one side of the yard there. It's amazing, the variety of scents that roses produce.

I've loved sweet peas ever since an elderly colleague used to bring me bouquets of them from his yard in northern California.  They made my office smell wonderful!

Not sure what this is, but the blue is pretty.

I think this flower is related to the onion.  At least it looks similar.

More roses, these being a bit past their prime.

I'm not fond of wire fences, but these gorgeous pink roses prettied up this particular fence.

The beginnings of grapes near our town's fire station, which backs up to Birch Street.

Pansies are some of the happiest flowers around, in my opinion. I enjoy these in their blue ceramic container.

I need someone to tell me how to grow petunias so they don't get to looking long and scraggly. The blossoms at this stage are so lush...

Roses along a wrought-iron fence?  Nice design!

This blossom was on a tree.  I'm not sure what it is...

I love alyssum. I planted it in my first garden in southern California many years ago, and it makes such a nice ground cover.

And, at the far end of Birch was this nice triangular flower. Again, I don't know the name.

And that's it; we've reached 4th Street, it's time to hang a left, and I'm just 2 blocks from work now! Glad you could come along on a walk with me during yet another week that is busy, with stresses so heavy that I haven't had time to blog. I'll get back to something other than pictures soon...

Stupid is Not Funny

Cultures change with every generation. Older folk invariably get irritated at the fashions, language and values of the next generation, and by the time we're two generations down, there truly is a noticeable gap. I experienced that from the youth perspective, and now I'm experiencing it from the "oldie" side.

One of the most puzzling things to me is what the next generation considers funny. To be sure, there are younger people who share my sense of humor, and that is gratifying. But more and more I'm seeing a humor I don't understand: the perspective of younger ones that "stupid is funny."

I'll admit, when I first read a list of the Darwin Awards, I found the list funny, in a shocked sort of way. These awards are given to "commemorate individuals who protect our gene pool by making the ultimate sacrifice of their own lives. Darwin Award winners eliminate themselves in an extraordinarily idiotic manner, thereby improving our species' chances of long-term survival."  The criteria are as follows:

• Nominee must be dead or rendered sterile
• Astoundingly stupid judgment
• Cause of one's own demise
• Capable of sound judgment
• The event must be verified

The humor quickly wore off, and the Darwin Awards simply became--in my opinion--one more chance for people to look with disdain on one another, following the "stupid is funny" line of humor.

Some of the oldest "stupid is funny" humor that I remember came from the Three Stooges short movies. I also have noticed it with America's Funniest Home Videos, which has been on air for a whopping 21 years. The producers seem to offer a preponderance of video clips of people doing thoughtless things, getting hit where it hurts most (with gratuitous replays in slow motion), and hurting themselves in various other ways. And people think this is funny? Add to that the reality cop shows that show people making pitifully stupid and sad choices, and getting caught on tape. I've watched people laughing at those. And now YouTube provides a whole new collection of "stupid is funny" clips that people share around.

I suppose that one explanation for the "stupid is funny" phenomenon is that people are unsure of their own value. So when they see someone else do something that causes pain, something they have the good sense not to do, they laugh out of relief because they are reassured that they didn't, as my pastor put it, "fall out of the Stupid Tree and hit every branch on the way down."  But I surely do wish they could progress past that type of humor to something more sophisticated and less hurtful. This world could use a whole lot of non-painful humor.

My Backyard Disney Rant

Go ahead, call me a curmudgeon.

I caught a bit of the most obnoxious HGTV program ever, last night, and that's saying something, because I love watching HGTV. This one was a new program featuring backyard makeovers by Disney imagineers.

Please understand that I'm really glad that the world has had Disneyland, Disney movies, and Disney stories. I'm glad that there's a "happiest place on earth" where you can put your imagination to work and have a great time with your family (at the cost of your next two months' grocery bill, an amount with which you could feed an orphanage full of kids in India).

But in your backyard? With fake stations and a little train that your family can ride around in, stopping at your mother-in-law's house next door? You've got to be kidding!

For me this symbolizes one of the things that has gotten Americans in trouble, and continues to get them in trouble: the feeling that you can have everything, that if you believe it you'll receive it, that everyone can have a palace, a swimming pool and the latest fashions regardless of income level. Everyone gets lucky in this country, everyone can act like a princess or a rock star, and we all can have, buy, play and indulge without having to pay the piper.

Somehow we've got to deal with reality. Budgets are limited, rainy days do come and you need to save for them, what you put into your body affects your quality of life, you can't get something for nothing, dreams for the most part don't come true (thank goodness), risky behaviors will eventually get you in trouble, you do need to get a job and go to work for a number of hours each week, lies will always come back to bite you in the butt, believing in yourself is not the Greatest Good in life, getting awards and titles is not a measure of your worth, true love requires strength and hard choices, and you do have a moral obligation to help those who are poorer than you.

The sooner our children learn those things in our homes and in our backyards, the better off they'll be.

Sabbath Evening in the Valley

This weekend Husband suddenly suggested that we head out for a car tour of our valley in the "sweet light" of the evening. He didn't have to ask me twice! I grabbed the "big camera," our more complicated one, and off we went. (Jayne, here are some of those photos you were hoping for.)

There has been much rain this spring, and it's made for a beautiful, green start to the summer. The peas were blooming and the wheat is still green. By the end of the tour, which finished at Whitman Mission's monument on the hill, I had a whopping case of hay fever--my first such experience--and a set of lovely photos.

Come along and enjoy the tour with us. I shall simply post the rest without further commentary.