Christmas in Yosemite

Yosemite Valley at Christmas

The Artist and I made a last minute decision to spend Christmas at Yosemite. A week before Christmas, we checked our favorite Victorian hotel, The Wawona, and rooms were available. We travel all over for his business, but rarely take a vacation, and never on the spur-of-the-moment. The Artist was hoping for his first white Christmas and Santa delivered.

It snowed on our way into the park, then let up and rained, wiping out most of the snow on the ground. But Christmas day, large, white flakes fell to earth all day long, closing roads, felling trees and keeping me by the fire knitting all day. The Artist thrilled at the snow, and I thrilled at the luxury of sitting and knitting.

Christmas storm - fun in the snow

Next day was Boxing Day. We took off for a hike in the snow. We had hiked the Meadow loop trail many times, both on foot and on our bikes, but never before in the snow. We were the first ones on the trail after breakfast. Six inches of snow came just about to the top of our hiking boots, our feet protected somewhat by jeans and yesterday's snow-covered prints. But with powder, not much of it stuck, or even got through our heavy socks into our boots. My biggest worry was the streams, including one we have to ford even in the summer. The Meadow Loop, on the edge of the forest, was incredible.

Looking out toward the meadow

Blazing a trail through the snow

The Artist on the trail

Next day, we left Wawona and traveled down to Yosemite Valley. From a winter wonderland, we gradually returned to civilization.

The Merced River from the stone bridge

Yosemite Falls

Near Bridal Veil Falls

But, it was time to leave. We'll never have a Christmas as beautiful and thrilling as our Christmas at Yosemite. You just can't expect to duplicate a wonderful time like this.

Christmas Cactus

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year

... not enough time... for a long greeting. Life with an Artist just keeps on going.

In the Cold of the Night

Art Card - Winter Night

The house was 61 degrees when I got out of bed at 6:30 this morning. Granted, we turn off the heat at night, but that's the coldest I can ever remember it.

LUCK of the DRAW

The Auctioneer and the "Beautiful Lady"

Last weekend was Luck of the Draw, the annual fund raiser for our local Art League, commonly referred to as LOD. It's lots of fun. Purchase a ticket for $65 and when your number is called, take your choice of any artwork left on the walls. Of course, in a perfect world, you want your number chosen first, and your donated artwork chosen second. That way, you are deemed both lucky and in demand.

The Auctioneer

Last year, my ticket was chosen second and I chose a gorgeous piece of glass. This year, The Artist's ticket was chosen about eighth, but his piece was chosen fourth. His work is always chosen among the top ten. People know when they get a good deal. The person who chose his mini-psaltery is a nine-year-old whose parents run the theatre. Her parents buy a ticket just for her and she comes every year to select her piece. This year, she really lucked out. However, in true LOD fashion, one year, her number was chosen almost last.

Contemplating Art Choices and Anxiously Awaiting the First Number

So what did The Artist and I receive at LOD? He chose a lovely pastel by one of the teachers, I chose an art quilt and a painting. We are both very happy. The secret to getting a number called early is to buy more than one ticket.






I asked the woman who chose my piece (somewhere in the middle of the 100 pieces) why she chose that one. "Because my husband and I decided on it." was her reply. No insight into the appeal of my fiber art piece from this admirer. Oh, well.