I was picked up by Beth, a longtime friend, as we had met many years ago at a scientific conference our husbands were both attending and have seen each other nearly annually since. She offered to take me on a quilt fabric shop hop. After letting me up off the ground and untwisting my arm from her iron grip, I reluctantly agreed. That's a joke. I jumped in the car like an eager (Oregon State) Beaver. Here we are in Salem; that's her in the bright yellow raincoat. She's an Oregon expert.
We entered and I felt like I'd entered a Magical Kingdom, quilt-wise. So many ideas! So little time! More on the quilty blog, if you're interested.
We drove through the beautiful Oregon countryside on the way to our next stop. The sun had come out and the greens were glowing against the soft blue sky. Every area of the country has their own version of these colors, and they are different from each other in specific and subtle ways.
This shop specialized in Civil War reproduction fabrics, as evidenced by the antique dress in the front window. I wanted to take down the phone number and address, as I was trying to beat my son at Foursquare (a social media game which requires that I check in at each location, earning points so I can finally beat him for once), and the person minding the store didn't know the address, nor the phone number. To get the address, she poked her head outside and looked at the number on the front door. There weren't any cards at the register with the other information, so we both resorted to looking it up on our smart phones. Kind of a high tech way to find out low tech information. But a cute shop, nonetheless.
We hit The Pink House for lunch, and it was just as you might imagine it inside, with tables tucked around in all different rooms of the house.
We went to another quilt shop in Philomath which was in a converted movie theater. This was the upper steps to the projectionist's booth. When you entered, the main register and cutting counter were the former concessions counter, where they might have sold you Jujubes, drinks and popcorn for a movie.
More beautiful countryside. This is where Beth's daughter and children come to pick berries--blueberries? I think.
Our last stop was in Corvallis, where this store had some fabric I'd been searching for. I felt blessed, I picked up a few more fat quarters to say thank-you. Such a sacrifice!
Here's Beth choosing some wares to take home. We were partners in crime. We stopped by to let her dogs run around a bit, and so I could look at her latest projects. Then after a quick hello at her daughter's house (and to meet Beth's cute grandchildren), she dropped me off at the hotel. Dave came back soon after, and felt pretty good about his presentation, which I was happy to hear.
We liked where Beth and Bill had taken us the night before, so we went to dinner at the same place again. This shot is looking down into the prep area, from the bridge on the second floor.
The next morning, we ate breakfast and prepared to drive back to Portland to catch our flight home. I was intrigued by these hanging lamps and wondered what they would look like from below.
I found out.
Back outside there was a frosting of ice everywhere. We found good uses for the room cards we'd forgotten to turn in: scraping the windows. I have to say that Dave was a professional at this, like he'd done it before.
The drive was beautiful, in a way different than anything I would see at home in our mild temperatures. I was amazed at the beauty found in a gray and white palette.
We made it Portland, boarded a regular plane to San Francisco, where we changed into a baby jet, and flew north off the runway. The pilot took a lovely arcing turn around the Bay and I shot these pictures on my cell phone through thick plastic windows. You have to imagine the loveliness of seeing the San Francisco Bay Area this way. Dave and I both have great affection for this area: it's where we met, where we lived in our early marriage, and we have many memories of the city of San Francisco.