Military Romance Author
If you’re one of the four people who have not seen this video this week, you’re in for a treat. How cute is this little lamb? Proves the adage good and fierce things come in small packages.
Where do we buy the designer lamb sweaters? Get patterns? Anybody know?
Have a great weekend and Happy Quirky Friday!
I’ve done some stupid things in my life for handsome men. I’m a sucker for a pretty face and biceps. (Lordy, there were men with amazing biceps in the Army!) But, last Friday’s harbor seal video reminded me of an adventure in my newspaper days.
While working as a reporter and photographer at the Newport News Times in 1984-85, two of my favorite (very handsome) marine biologists asked me to deliver something to Portland. I was driving to my parents house after work on Friday night. They did not tell me what it was.
I figured papers or something that needed to go to the big city. Showed up at the Hatfield Marine Science Center to find the guys tube-feeding a baby harbor seal who needed a ride to the Oregon Zoo for rehab. Surprise!
“Since the zoo will be closed when you get there, you can keep him overnight in the bathtub and take him up in the morning.”
Right. A quick call to Mom and Dad to see if that was okay. God Bless my suffering parents, they never knew what the next adventure might entail. They said fine.
Baby seal was put in a largo red Igloo cooler with the lid propped open for air and stowed in the front seat of my 1974 maroon Nova. We seat belted the cooler in and I was instructed to drive carefully.
“What if I get stopped by the cops?” I asked. “Don’t I need papers?” I knew it was a federal offense to handle or transport marine mammals due to the Marine Mammal Protection Act.
“It’ll be fine,” they said. “Just give us a call if you get stopped.”
From my jail cell no doubt.
It’s a two to three-hour trip to Portland from Newport given the weekend traffic. My memories of the trip are fleeting incidents.
The smell of seal poop. Can’t really describe it. Think of eating only fish and then it being poop. Baby poop. Killer light yellow-greenish baby poop.
Baby seal did not like riding in the cooler. He especially did not like railroad crossings and curves in the road. He called for his mother. “Ma, ma!” That is exactly what it sounds like.
It was summer, so luckily I had the windows rolled down. Remember seal poop. This was fine until I stopped at a red light in McMinnville. Folks next to me had their windows down too. “Ma, ma!” kept coming from the cooler. I knew they were looking at me. I stared straight ahead. Ignore the seal in the front seat.
The drive seemed to take forever and I worried about him the entire time. The guys told me he should be okay, but it’s always iffy with stressed marine life. I was now his foster mom.
When I got to my parent’s house, Dad took the cooler into the backyard followed by a group of neighbor kids. We washed the little guy off with the hose to clean him up; seal poop marinade. Then Dad airlifted him into the bathtub, complete with the non-skid pink shells on the porcelain surface.
By this time, he was hungry. I had nothing to give him or any way to feed him. We opened the bathroom window to the backyard for cool fresh air and in case of incoming or outgoing seal poop. “Ma, ma!”
Nobody slept that night. The constant “Ma, ma” broke our hearts. The little guy also had a damn good set of lungs. Since the main bathroom was surrounded by the three bedrooms, we all felt his pain.
About 7:30 the next morning the front doorbell rang. I was getting ready to take pup up to the zoo. I answered the door. It was the neighbor who lived behind my parent’s house.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“We heard odd noises during the night.”
We’d never been huge friends with our backyard neighbors. “It’s the seal in the bathtub,” I said.
He looked at me. A confused expression on his face.
“We’re going to the zoo,” I added. It took everything in my soul not to say, and then shopping and a movie. I did not elaborate.
He stared at me a bit longer. “Oh, okay,” he said and then left the front porch, shaking his head.
I delivered my “Ma, ma” package to the zoo staff and took some pictures. I couldn’t bring myself to take his picture while he was in the bathtub. I felt it would be exploiting his situation.
Minor damage to the bathtub included repairing the shell non-skids he had managed to loosen the edges of during the night. Which was then followed by a thorough washing with bleach.
My handsome marine biologists, who got out of driving to Portland that weekend, let me know my foster pup did make it through rehab and was released back into the wild. Think that is one reason I take so many harbor seal pictures. It’s personal. Might be great-grand kids of my overnight guest.
Beware of handsome marine biologists. Trust me.
Getting out of town is a time to find new places to see and visit old friends. That’s what we did on our beach trip. On the way home we decided to stop by the Alder House III glassblowing studio. It had been decades since we visited, so the time was right.
When we walked into the studio, Treasure was demonstrating his glass blowing techniques and educating the onlookers. We quietly joined the small crowd and realized everyone was listening and learning. Not a piece of tech in use!
He was working on a glass vase and went through the process of firing, blowing it hollow, shaping and adding embellishments to it. Fascinating. From the hot glass to the super hot furnace, his artistry was on display.
After the presentation we wandered the wonderful glass items on display. Three pieces of artwork magically jumped into our hands. We had to take them home.
My friend Kathy started with one bowl and then the matching two pieces in the set also jumped into her hands. We happily packed them up and put them in the back seat with the seat belt on. Precious cargo.
If you want to visit, the Alder House III, it is located a half mile north of Salishan Lodge on Highway 101, at 611 Immonen Road, between Lincoln City and Gleneden Beach at Siletz Bay. The lovely three-fourths of a mile road leads you along the river and through the woods. Literally. There is also Mossy Creek Pottery studio next door.
You can check out their website at www.alderhouse.com They are open 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. from May 1st through the end of October. The five glass artists make creations for everyone, so don’t be surprised if one launches itself into your hands. It’s a good thing!
Art is for everybody!
by Kimberly A. Cook
Bagged the bird! For those of you who thought I’d lost my mind last week, my poultry paparazzi patrol paid off. Did a quick recon before leaving for my fiction critique group last Saturday to see if the violin playing chicken was in attendance. No fowl. Dang it.
Got in the car and headed for my meeting. Ready to make a left turn and looking right, chicken ahoy! I ignored my left turn signal, and the car behind me, and turned right to get a quick chicken pic. Using my vast stealth abilities from the military, I parked a block away and then went chicken stalking. Got two pics. Here is the best one.
Now this fowl encounter has become a quest. I want to know the chicken’s back story. My journalistic roots are tingling. When did the chicken take violin lessons? Why here? Why now? Why the outfit? Does the chicken have a website? Do all chickens wear Birkenstocks? Or flip-flops? (I’d say thongs, but I don’t want to confuse people and I really don’t want to go there with this chicken.)
Saturday is the big Rose Festival Grand Floral Parade so we all know what that means, rain. Not sure the chicken will show if it doesn’t like to get wet. But I’m intent on getting an interview.
When writing fiction, the author always needs to know the back story of each character. Where do they come from? What happened to them to make them do what they do now? What is their biggest goal? Worst fear? In my fiction books I’m writing, there are quirky animals too. Of course. And like their human counterparts, they all have back stories which explain their motivations.
In “real” life and fiction, everybody’s story is important. We all matter. Our stories matter. What better life long pursuit than to fight for our own happy endings?
How do we do that? We find out each other’s back story. Don’t judge a book by its cover or a chicken by its violin.
Every chicken has a back story!
by Kimberly A. Cook
Bought two alpacas yesterday. Don’t freak, they were stuffed toys. Gotcha! The last thing I need is something else to take care of, as cute as alpacas may be. I like having the excuse to drive up the Columbia River Gorge or over to Sisters to make personal alpaca visits.
They were a complete impulse buy. I was on a mission for potting soil and ended up with these two cuties as well. One is a gift, one is for writing inspiration. Seems the next fiction book in my Vintage Vets series involves alpacas. Animals just keep showing up in my writing. I am not in charge.
But first I feel I should apologize to the USA residents in the East. Sorry about all the stupid snow. It was 69 degrees here yesterday, a fluke and we loved it, hence the potting soil trip. Rain again today, so back to our regularly scheduled weather.
When you live on the West coast, for me everything past Montana is back East. I have been told by Midwesterners that is not correct, but it works for us out here. Imagine that is why in Hawaii we are all “the mainland” because the rest of the country is East to them, except for Alaska which is North and East.
Potting soil bags does mean Spring is on its way. I’m downing the allergy pills to prove it. The two toys were on sale as Easter alpacas. Never heard of Easter alpacas, but I fell for it. Sometimes you just need an Easter alpaca.
What Spring rituals are you looking forward to?
by Kimberly A. Cook (Twitter@ WarriorTales)
One of my all time favorite scenes in the animated movie “Beauty and the Beast” is when he shows Belle the library. He had me at library! For any reader/writer, giving them a library is one of the greatest gifts on earth.
When I went to the Library of Congress for the first time I couldn’t even speak. The Mother ship of books! Pretty sure I teared up too.
So Disney brings us a live action and special effects masterpiece once again. Fire up the popcorn machine, we’re going to need tons! Make your plans now, it opens March 17.
Oh, I’m a sucker for guys wearing capes too. Zorro, Darth Vader, the Beast. Have a great weekend and Happy Quirky Friday!
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