Happy Weekend.

JBelle

Bellemaison

The 'Kan EWA

A note to the professional photographers who cruise this blog:

and you know who you are. What kind of bottom feeders are you that you come on here and rip off my ideas? Did you think you could go out and rewrite my ideas with your own camera and that I wouldn't see the published shot or that I wouldn't notice? or that I wouldn't be offended?

omigod. how arrogant are you? Here's a little warning: get off your ass, get out your camera, throw some extra lenses and a few filters in a bag and go make your own images. You may be an artist and I may be a pleb, but unlike you, I have ambition, a work ethic, and ideas. And if you think you can exploit me for your sole advantage, you are lazy AND stupid.

Out.


JBelle
Bellemaison
The 'Kan EWA

My pal Julie has some some health things going on that she can't seem to shake. Julie is so much fun, loves to laugh, and has a heart of solid gold. Although she has a wonderful son or two, a great marriage, and a ton of good things in her life, I am worried about her. This stuff she's working through is big time stuff. So if you have a minute, please offer a good thought for Julie and for people who love to have fun and for girlfriends. What would we do without each other? These were shot this morning in the garden and I dedicate them to Julie. Get well soon please!

JBelle
Bellemaison
The 'Kan EWA

As promised, an apple picture for Mrs. Roosevelt. And why the stickers? Because this time of year, we buy apples at Safeway. We are also enjoying the petunias that refuse to fail in the heat and finally, another picture of Jan's Black Eyed Susans. They are so pretty.

JBelle
Bellemaison
The 'Kan EWA

It was another hot, beautiful weekend here in The 'Kan EWA. I get up early and wander out in the garden. Maybe someday I'll get good enough to get the whole plant!

JBelle

Bellemaison

The 'Kan EWA

Talk amongst yourselves.

JBelle

Bellemaison

The 'Kan EWA

So The Americans swim the relay of a lifetime. Black guy, old guy, steel stud and other guy. The volleyball player's parents get stabbed sightseeing with a guide. The Bird's Nest glows in the evening light, calling to me with siren-like seduction. Phelpsie destroys the world record in the 200. Beach volleyball? we have dominion in beach volleyball? and the basketball team finally gets it together.

Love the Olympics. Just love 'em.


JBelle
Bellemaison
The 'Kan EWA

Heading to Breakfast on the Spokane River

JBelle
Bellemaison
The 'Kan EWA

Okay, here's a true confession from someone whose passport looks like it's the 1999 Yellow Pages no one remembers to take out of the drawer and throw away: I am so freaking glad I am not in Beijing. There I said it. I said it and I own it. I am glad to be at Bellemaison in The Den of the Three Colors, drinking Vietnamese coffee, eating walnuts from Sud France and watching TIVOed Olympics. I'm no less of an American and no less of a committed Student of the World if I don't lumber onto a plane, fly over the Pacific Ocean and stumble my way around a major city in Asia. I do not need to be there to love, savor and cherish the thrill and the splendor of the Olympics, although that opening ceremony did criss cross me with longing and regret. But I'm over it. I loved watching the archives at olympics.com on Saturday afternoon. So there it is. Now let's start talking.

Did you SEE Michael Phelps in the 400? What a moment! He has shoulders like goalposts and doesn't part the water, but becomes the water-- the ripples, the wake that quickly, so quickly, can scatter, disrupt and destroy the glassy, serene surface of a body of water-- to then emerge in a high flash at the blue wall, morphing back into human form. What.an.athlete. He rips off his cap, uber-victorious, and scans the crowd. He says later he was looking for his mother but he couldn't see her. This mother is a single mom who raised three kids. She pounds her fists in the air in victory as her only son nails the first trial of his quest to become the greatest Olympic athlete ever. And this is supposed to be about the swimming?

The women's fencing medalists were all American. This medal ceremony was moving to me; we have such problems in this country at the moment and these three pretty girls collecting their confirmations of excellence gave me such respite, such relief, from the despair and degradation that is currently the state of the USA. I thought the version of our national anthem that was used was just lovely. One of the loveliest ever. I cried with the medalists; but probably for a different reason.

I loved watching the Chinese women defend the goal against the Christine Sinclair and the Canadian national soccer team. They are smart and tough, those Chinese! But that's come up before, right? 1-1, if you missed it. Sinc couldn't get around their defense who were half her size.

I'm watching dressage now; the competition is played against classical music, strings. The horse is gleaming ebony, a sharp contrast with the rider's immaculately white jodphurs. The silky tail of the horse swishes as the pair move through the circles and loops that is dressage, becoming one in a prescribed dance with music that has entertained the world for hundreds of years.

The Chow Nation has a major disagreement over Sunday Brunch which necessitates me stepping to the doors to referee; the squirrels screech and chirp in the tall trees as the quail wander around the garden, bathing and noshing. The mountain ash berries begin to show orange and the roses begin their second bloom, heavy in dew this morning. Joe Montana boils the water for Grandma Jo's macaroni salad for Sunday dinner and the turkey burgers await my touch and finesse, honed over many years at the kitchen counter.

Life here beyond the Big Sky and in between the wheat fields and the plains and mountains is sweet, soft, silent and slow. And I like it. Especially today.

JBelle
Bellemaison
The 'Kan EWA

I learned to swim in the water beyond this tree. My mother used to pack us up and haul the playpen down to the beach where we'd spend the entire day. Easily among the happiest days of my entire life. We loved being around at just this spot with my mother and my little brother and loved eating and napping in the sand, under the shade of the pine tree with the gnarled exposed roots. We loved being there the whole day. It's rare that I go to Coeur d'Alene and not do a drive by. That's our spot.
The other day I was so happy to see another mother with another family in our spot. Thought of my mom; who loved us and loved being a mother. How could she know the exact perfect thing to do with four kids of different ages during the dog days of summer? How many mothers and children have spent hot days on the north shores of Lake Coeur d'Alene running in and out of the silky water, throwing themselves on a freshly washed beach towel, on a cushion of soft North Idaho sand?

We literally played all day; with logs, sticks and beer cans. All day! We rode the logs like cowboys; like pilots; like kings and queens. And we were-- the kings and queens of The Great State of North Idaho. Would a Coeur d'Alene by any other name be as warm, or as blue, or smell as good? like wet sawdust?

JBelle
Bellemaison
The 'Kan EWA

LAZY HAZY DAYS OF SUMMER

JBelle/Notes From The 'Kan EWA

JBelle
Bellemaison
The 'Kan EWA