she's just saying...

Gutter Therapy

Nothing like clearing gutters for clearing the mind!

The gutters had not been cleaned in 9 years. I remember, because I had just gotten Henry and some kind neighbors came over and cleaned them.

It was deeply satisfying. First, because they were completely impacted with juniper droppings and dirt; second, because it was on my to-do list for, oh, a couple of years. Now that I've accomplished it, I can do anything! I'm strong and self-reliant!(gutter affirmation).

Of course cleaning up the decks after cleaning the gutters is boring, dirty, hot and annoying. Hey, that's why we have kids! If I could just find him . . .

Next up on the list: washing the windows. And then maybe I'll tackle the garage.

How not to get over him

1. Keep his number on speed dial

2. Follow his baseball team, even though it's National League

3. Let your dog hang out with him

4. Ask him for help with your bird feeders

5. Calculate his time zone when he travels

6. Leave his photos on your screen saver

7. Picture the three freckles under his eyebrow

8. Take an afternoon nap together

9. Return his texts when he's out with his friends

10. Let him make you Sunday dinner

11. Wear your lucky skirt

12. Open a second bottle

    

Sudoku morning

Sat. am, originally uploaded by Meltrier.

This one was pretty easy for a 5+ star!

Too much time on my hands . . .

You can teach an old dog new tricks, as long as you have liver snaps.

Almost blue

Do you ever get in one of those moods?  Sad, nostalgic, moody, adrift?  Anomie, malaise; I could go on...

This post title refers to a great version of a song by Elvis Costello (no, not the album Almost Blue), but nobody says it better (or more) than Van Morrison:

In the afternoon, baby in my room
When the lights are dim way beyond the hill
In the afternoon, baby in my room
When I'm really down get me off the ground
Melancholia, melancholia, melancholia

In the morning time when I go outside
In the morning time it's like that all the while
In the afternoon when I'm in my room
Every single day, it won't go away
Melancholia, melancholia, melancholia

And it's in my heart, when we're apart
And it stops and starts, and it's in my heart
Every single day it's always in my way
When I'm making hay, all I've got to say
Melancholia, melancholia, melancholia

Well it's in my blood and it's in my veins
Here it comes again, when I'm in the rain
In the wind and rain, well the sun don't shine
Well it's always mine, all of the time
Melancholia, melancholia, melancholia

And it's in my life and it's all the time
It doesn't go away when the church bells chime
In the evening time when I drink my wine
In the evening time when it's on my mind
Melancholia, melancholia, melancholia

It's only melancholia
Oh melancholia, oh melancholia, oh melancholia, oh melancholia
Melancholia, melancholia
They call it, call it melancholia, call it melancholia, call it melancholia, call it melancholia
Call it melancholia, melancholia, melancholia, melancholia

OK, we get it, Van! You're seriously bumming!

I'm feeling the same way today.

I'm sick...

of being sick. Combination of allergy, sinus infection, cold, sore throat, whatever - it's been dragging me down for a few weeks. I'm one of those people who ignores stuff like this as long as possible, but I'm going in to see my nose doc tomorrow. [Funny that different body parts have different doctors.]

We tossed out the marketing department today. We went through files, cabinets, drawers, shelves and desks and threw out 7 years of hard work. It was quite dismaying. First to review all the work that had been done and recall how important it seemed at the time, then to see all the garbage it turned into. We kept saying "Won't they want this stuff? Shouldn't we be keeping it?" But no one actually cares.

Good lesson in the Buddhist principle of impermanence. Things change.

Lucinda!

Just bought my tix to the Lucinda Williams concert here on Sept. 2. It's in the back of the Athletic Club on the lawn - very pleasant, intimate venue. Because I luuurve her so, we actually got reserved seats, rather than general admission lawn tix. A mere five chairs back. Should be great! I always love her concerts - very immediate and intense.

Shaping up to be a good concert summer: on my list so far are Wilco, Beck, and Lucinda. If they could just get Coldplay, Dylan and Jack Johnson back again, it would be a great season. I think I'll pass on Lynyrd Skynyrd this week, though.

After I moved here, I thought I'd really miss the LA concert scene, but Bend is definitely on the tour map. It's a fun, easy place to see a show. We've ridden our bikes in the past, though we have sustained a few nasty injuries coming back BUI.

Hopefully we won't have any obnoxious dancing fanboys in front of us, a la Kathi's experience.

Summer afternoon

Summer afternoon — summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.
—Henry James, 1934

My garden evidently decided to get busy while we were away. Roses, daisies, daylilies, arugula,  hosta, clematis; everything went crazy. My peonies budded, bloomed and shed their flowers while we were gone, missing them entirely.

I'm very happy to be back. The unpacking, laundry, mail and cleaning can wait. My plan for this afternoon is to take a nap. Later I'll mix a lemon drop, sit on the porch, and watch the plants do their stuff; while the Bosox hammer the Yankees in the background.

Firefly

Bug courtesy of my big bro Steve. Photo mine.

One thing I like about the East: fireflies.

We always called them lightning bugs. Nothing brings back the summers of my childhood like a lawn at late dusk, sprinkled with lightning bugs twinkling in their lovesick short buggy lives.

There don't seem to be fireflies in the West. I think it's a humidity thing. Maybe the only good thing about this East Coast humidity, other than my cuticles looking more presentable.

What are your childhood summer memories?

I'm done

I really want to be home, in dry, not buggy Central Oregon. I've been congested, sneezy, itchy and headachy since I hit the east coast, and it hasn't let up.

What the 4th means to me

How about you?

Day 13

I just realized that in the many years I've lived in Bend, I've never left for longer than a week. I've traveled: East Coast, California, Texas, Hawaii, Costa Rica, Spain - but each jaunt has been for 8 days or less.

I remember when I got my first real corporate-type job in NYC after grad school, when it sunk in that I'd only get one week off for the first several years. I was stunned: one week?! Cram the entire year's vacation into one week? This was after a life of summer vacations and under-employment. I felt like I'd been given a jail sentence.

Since then, I've learned to fit the vacation experience into one-week trips, extended weekend getaways, work trips that included relaxation time (Costa Rica beach, anyone?), and of course the random layoffs that occur with ad agencies. (Hard to relax when you're looking for work and close to broke,though.)

So the point of this ramble? I've never been away from my pets for this long. I really miss them.

On top of Old Smoky

Comin' to y'all from the Great Smokies - Appalachian country, mountaineer territory and all,

I'm not a fan of the South. It's hot, muggy, and there are a lot of bugs; many of which fly, and most of which bite. Oh, well, what we do for family.

Though the real South doesn't think of western North Carolina as the south - more like hillbilly country, as well as a lovely place to send the kids to camp. To a Floridian, it's cool and mild here in the summer, god help them.

Some highlights so far:
The Curb Market. This is a low building with vendors' stalls (kind of like a mountain version of Pike's Place Market) that I like to visit. The primary merchandise consists of jams, preserves, honey, etc.; birds' nests (couldn't tell you why); bad crafts and rag rugs. The rugs are woven from the leftovers from the tube sock factory in the vicinity, so they wear like iron. Here's a very nice lady who sold me a few, woven herself.

Mrs. Ledbetter

I feel like a true alien here. I have to ask people to repeat themselves several times before I understand them. This is the center of slow talk. I mean really slow. It's amazing.

It's very religious here, of course. Churches everywhere, and random signs like this.

I always like the juxtaposition of the cross and the Confederate flag, the symbol of white supremacy and human slavery. I was too chicken to stop and take the photo properly, so I took it through the windshield by the side of the road.

Tomorrow the hordes arrive for the three days of chaos, yelling and arguments that we call our family reunion. Do I sound excited?  Everyone else seems to enjoy it though. Hello, family who's reading this: I love each of you individually and enjoy your company. It's when you all get together that's kind of overwhelming. Just saying.