Posted by: Becky St. Clair in Wildlife, Scenery on
Mar 01, 2010
So the groundhog saw his shadow this year, huh? Six more weeks of winter. Everyone cringes to hear it. Even here in Walla Walla, where we’ve had one of the most mild winters since I’ve been here (which has now been nearly a decade; I can’t believe it!). Lots of fog, yes. A little rain, sure. And even a bit of snow, albeit a tad less than usual. But nothing hardcore; not even the temperatures gave us much to complain about this year.
Me? I don’t buy it. First of all, we had several 60-degree days in mid-January. I strode down the sidewalks without a jacket on and was comfortably warm, soaking up the sun.
Secondly, I hear birds. In the morning when I get up, there’s chirping. The kingfisher is back, hunting for meals around the branch of the Little Walla Walla River that runs in front of my house. Granted, I haven’t yet seen my first robin of the year, but I’m prepared to welcome her any day now.
Thirdly, my bulbs are coming up. The daffodils are frighteningly close to blooming, and I’m already greeted by deep purple crocuses every morning as I climb the steps to my office.
Really, what does a groundhog know, anyway?
Posted by: Sam McLeod in Misc Stories on
Feb 15, 2010
Mrs. Benson, my third grade teacher, had a rule: On Valentine's Day each student will give every other student in the class a card and it'll be the same card. No candies or other gifts. You could write different notes on your cards if you wanted, but that was the only permitted difference.
Several of the popular girls booed.
Mrs. Benson raised her ruler and said she'd had too many problems in the past with selfish kids who counted their cards, and showed off how many they'd gotten, and sprayed the news to anybody who'd listen.
"Interesting," I thought. "Isn't that what everybody does on Valentine's Day? That's the point, isn't it? How else will I gauge my popularity?"
Third grade could be confusing sometimes.
Posted by: Catie McIntyre Walker in Wine on
Feb 08, 2010
When I think of February, I always reflect back to when I was a little girl in Walla Walla. We had classroom Valentine parties with lots of red construction paper and paper doily hearts on the bulletin boards. There was the exchange of cards and our room mothers would bring us decorated cupcakes and heart shaped cookies. Now that I am older, many years older (ahem), I now think of wine as being romantic. Why not? Romance is about an emotional attachment, a fascination or involvement with someone. Wine not only places a role in romance, but seduction, which leads to - - s-e-x. Wine can bring lovers together, but also good times with family and friends.
Walla Walla is about romance no matter the time of the year with our beautiful parks, the view of the Blue Mountains, romantic B&B's, vineyards and our historical downtown. Downtown Walla Walla is especially romantic and full of surprises. It is a mid-way of tasting rooms, boutiques, bistros and art galleries and if one times it right, there is live music in the air.
The Walla Walla Valley has some very seductive wines to get one in the Valentine spirit, too. Sleight of Hands Cellar's labels are very seductive with the mysterious magician and his beautiful assistant. The Magician is a classic dry Gewurztraminer with aromas and flavors of crisp green apples, rose petals, and lychee-nut. These characteristics make for a perfect pairing with aromatic seafood dishes and spicy Asian foods. Mmm...spicy!
Posted by: Becky St. Clair in Scenery, Downtown on
Feb 01, 2010
Every time I drive through downtown Walla Walla I'm scared I'll get into an accident. That may not sound like a pleasant introduction to this wonderful little city, but let me explain.
Walla Walla is one of the most beautiful little towns I've ever experienced and every time I drive through its charming downtown (especially Main Street) I'm struck by its simple elegance and preserved history.
Then there are the people.
While stopped at one of many stoplights, I note two gentlemen on the corner, waiting for the crosswalk light to allow them to proceed. They're as different as can be. One is older, perhaps 60, experienced in life and ready to relax and enjoy a slower pace. His walking shoes are worn and his simple garb includes a black windbreaker and a plain black baseball cap. He didn't bother to shave this morning.
The other is closer to my age, probably not yet 30, clean-shaven, gelled hair, brand new tie flapping in the breeze. His hands are stuffed into his suit coat pockets (probably to ward off the chill of the winter wind), and his shiny businessman shoes are stylish and classy.
The light turns green. I press on the gas pedal, the two men start across the road, one significantly more hurried than the other.
