Monday, February 23, 2009

amazing amazingment

COLUMBIA RIVER Pictures, Images and Photos
So starting with last week - my brother and I headed to Celilo for one meeting - then home and on Saturday turned around and back to Portland so that on Sunday we would go to Tulalip for ATNI.

Our meeting with Celilo was all the more intense with a story shared by one of our own tribal elders, a tiny woman of fiery spirit and sparkly eyes. She talked about being a young girl fishing at Celilo and how her father and brother would always take her there. She talked about having caught a fifty eight pound salmon from the falls...if you could see the miniscule stature of this woman you'd understand the full belly laugh shared by those attending the meeting.

Celilo Falls Pictures, Images and Photos

Saturday, home long enough to do some homey things then off to Portland to hang out with Nellie (Penelope)

Monday, February 9, 2009

what's in a name????



to preface this i'd like to share a quote from a tribal leader in the past "not everyone gets to be an Indian...it's a privilege and not to be taken lightly" R. Metcalf Sauk Suiattle

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

joyful abandon


my daughter's middle name is allegra - this took place i hope you understand, BEFORE Fexofenadene HCI was named such for relieving allergies and other assorted ailments...she was named thus for to me, she was the female epitome of merriam-webster's definition of allegro: Function: adverb or adjective
Etymology: Italian, merry, from Vulgar Latin *alecrus lively, alteration of Latin alacr-, alacer Date: circa 1721 : at a brisk lively tempo —used as a direction in music also characterized as joyful abandon

said daughter had a baby (fourth grand-daughter and pictured at the top of this blog) recently and they've been staying with my brother and me for a week or so. each morning I wake up thinking "oh! Nellie and Jilly are still here!" I find myself taking pictures of EVERY moment I wish to remember and it's actually out of control. I write this in the hopes that someone will come to my aid for truly, I have no discipline in this area.

oregon first nation's pow wow 09


to look at me you'd have never known I grew up in an adopted family and was raised by a woman who told me from time to time "you are the kind of person who makes people hate Indians"

I was...but hey, on to the story:-)

Walking in to pow wows is always a rush for me. Until July 2004 I had never lived at home on my reservation and had never owned much less MADE my own regalia and so forth. My idea of living there was "what is there to do?" Fortunately I have brothers who took me under their wing and decided rather than make fun of me for being hopelessly urban they would teach me our ways.


This pow wow felt so rich - the days had been sunny and bright - ah!!! how euphemistic flows the mind at times - on the drive through the gorge we'd been graced with our favorite water birds...i don't know their names but these ducks are shy and black and cute:-) we drove past grandpa walrus and the grandma telling stories...we drove by the mama singing songs to her children and you thought the drive through the gorge was ho-hum?...my brother and I entered the arena in our street clothes as did many others attending...the air was electric with pride as women and men donned traditional, fancy, jingle...pride over great great grandma's traditional dress still fresh with her wisdom passed through the years, pride over hand beaded barrettes and hair ties with memories of fingers bloodied and tears shed over mistakes taken out and redone to colorful splendor...sequins flashed as capes were pulled over the head, the smell of hairspray and someone smudging cast an air of excitement.

Nine recognized tribes? We are family as we take to the floor...disagreements over boundaries and current appropriations are set aside for a time and we enter the arena together with smiles and greetings. Elder women chuckled over youthful energy gone a little awry at times...young girls dance in with jingles flying and satin dresses flowing...frybread is passed from one row to another as the grandchildren bring them to grandma...hmmmm that one has several bites taken out of it!


After grand entry, I sat down with my brother to watch...from one moment to the next was full of amazement and we finally got up to go check out the vendors. Even MORE fun!

Not one day goes by that I am not thankful to have been brought home! Now I am the grandma...