Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Escape to Pendleton

We learned about a world class saddle maker, Duff Severe, whose work can now be found in the Smitsonian. When the leather got too heavy for him, he started making masterpiece minatures. Carol is standing next to a small grouping of them at the Underground Museum in Pendleton.

The scrap bags above were all that Carol wanted to purchase, even though she took oodles of cash down to Pendleton. The scraps are cut from the edges of blankets into a fairly long string of material, 1 or 2 inches wide and 20 feet long. Here, the clerk is showing our Empty Nester groups how to hand crochet an area rug.

This is part of the Underground tour. A local meat packer kept his stockroom below the main street level store and the ice kept better. This local guy is our tour guide and, except for the gazillion stairs up and down, his job looked like my dream job in the near (aka retired and not caring about money) future.

Carol gets symoblism here in the Woolen Mills museum. The natives had patterns of significance that the wove into their products. I feel they have lost the ability to accurately portray a human head, but hey, who is to critic? Pretty sure sheep were not indigenous to this area, anyway, so some missionary taught them that heads are supposed to look like Army tank turrets.

Echo Oregon--pimple on the nose of America. However, it was a low point on the Umatilla River, so the Oregon trail passed through here. This is a picture of an old, old jail cell in Echo. Carol says the rest of the group isn't keen stopping to see these things but they love to watch Dennis drool at looking at historical stuff.

Two weekends ago the ladies of our empty nesters group declared the need for a break from teaching school--a no classess, no phone calls, no Temple obligations, no Sunday services break from all of it. Amazingly we settled on a two night-three day stand only 65 miles away--Pendleton, Oregon. No roughing it, and minimal pressure to eat breakfast before 9. Stayed at the Hampton Inn, of course. The blanket with the indians and Carol in her too cool Pendleton jacket is from the tour of the woolen mills. Again--a fair share of walking, but the group is patient with my pace. The final picture is of a wool loom at work. I love the colors but not enough to drop $179 for a factory seconds blanket. Home again Sunday night with a nearly full tank of gas and a couple of recharged school teachers.

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