she's just saying...

Does it count as sunny if you have no shadow?

Bend boosters like to quote the statistic that we get 300 days of sunshine here -- it counteracts the Oregon = rain perception people hold. Everyone quotes the same number: 300. Realtors, the Chamber of Commerce, the medical clinic, golf resorts and the local HVAC company all repeat this frequently. (With the notable exception of a surly curmudgeon whose entire blog exists to dispute this number.) I'm not sure how the "300 days" stat was compiled, but I'm just saying we'd better see sunshine non-stop through New Year's if we're going to hit that this year.

Due to the frequent brilliant sunshine there's a interesting phenomenon that occurs in Central Oregon around February and March. By now we're seriously bored with winter and start to believe that sun = spring. People shed the down and fleece and run around in shorts and t-shirts. Myself, I stop wearing jackets to work and start leaving the doors open, until I realize I'm freezing. 35 degrees is 35 degrees whether it's December or May.

(There's a subset of guys who wear shorts year-round here. They tend to be of three kinds: snowboarders, 30-something dads who pretend they're snowboarders, and the UPS guy. The shorts are the long cargo-type, so at least we're spared large flashes of goosebumpy flesh.)

The kids immediately wear tank tops (gals) or take their shirts off (dudes) and hang around the park downtown. By the way, I seem to have turned into the kind of mom who says: "Those children must be freezing!" How did that happen?

Then it turns gray and cold and rainy again and we remember it's only February.

I'm happy to report that I'm in a far better place than I was this time last year, when I wrote this depressing post.  Wow. Good thing I didn't have my biathlon rifle back then.

Where the cool kids hang out. And the geese. On a much nicer day than today.

I can't say it any better

From Forbes.com:

What's ironic is that I am an advertiser on NBC. Granted, I don't buy national airtime for a car brand - it's a museum in the Central Oregon market. But hey, I'm paying them money. And even as an advertiser, this total lack of respect for the viewers really pisses me off. I'm close to pulling my media buy but for the fact that I care about my local franchise and my reps. I've let them know how I feel, but I doubt it's going to get back to 30 Rock.

And yes, we're still watching the Olympic prime-time coverage at home - what choice do we have?

Oh wait: I take that back. I could be watching the Olympics right now (Sat. afternoon): NBC is providing live coverage. Up now:

Men's Hockey

Late round-robin action features the Slovakian men versus Latvia.

How you know you live in a ski town

Emergency! Emergency!  Should we call the police? The sheriff? 

No, wait! Let's check the conditions!

I fought the law...

and the law was actually quite reasonable.

I don't want to drag you through the whole sordid saga, but I was stopped for speeding (allegedly - I plead no contest) the evening before Halloween. I thought the words "son" and "football game" might move the cop to let me off, but I guess he'd heard that one before. He then checked my license and told me it was suspended. What?!? Not this suburban station-wagon-driving mom! Well, it was. The epic of getting two people to show up on the Parkway to drive me and my car away was quite painful and kinda funny in the end, but that's another story.

So my license was suspended due to my paying another fine a bit late last summer (another alleged speeding ticket) even though that county said it had been cleared. Cancelled checks, suspension notices, paying fines in several counties and calling/visiting the DMV over and over took up more precious time of my finite life, but I did get my license back.

I was determined to fight the $495 suspension ticket, so went to traffic court Tuesday afternoon. Another interesting experience that's unnecessary to repeat. It was fascinating to watch the distractingly-handsome young judge weigh all these Talmudic decisions about people's speeding, seat-belt and insurance fines. I had all my papers in order and a little sequence of events all typed up, just like in "Alice's Restaurant." Anyway, to cut to the money part, his honor dismissed the entire "suspended" charge. I was thrilled to get away with only the $200 speeding ticket. 

Lessons learned:

1. Don't take the Clackamas County clerk's word for it when he tells you "Oh don't worry, it will all get cleared up." Even my judge smirked at that one.
2. Don't be a sucker and send in the full amount of any ticket -- go to court to plead your case. The judge either dismissed or greatly reduced EVERYBODY's fines, even for the really scary people. Who knew?
3. You can call up the municipal court early on your appearance day to check in so you don't have to wait for 60 other unfortunate people to plead their case well into the evening. Who knew again? Well, obviously repeat offenders, because they all got to go before I did.
4. And of course, don't ever speed.

Isn't that wig itchy?

Another random grammar rant - local dog version

Our local cable company has a pretty good reputation for customer service and innovative technologies. What they seem to be lacking is a sixth-grade grammar education.

Bend has the reputed highest per-capita dog ownership in the state, most of which are black labs, and they're smart and fast and loyal etc. so I get the visual and have no quibble with that.

However, though this will once again label me a grammar prude, the tagline bugs the heck out of me. "We better be good." It's just wrong. "We'd better be good" is the correct usage here. I know, I know, it's ad-speak, informal, colloquialism, etc. but it grates on me every time I see or hear it.

Of course, this time of year whenever I see that particular tagline I tend to follow it up with "We'd better not cry, we'd better not pout." And I'm telling you why.

It's your birthday! Take another vicodin!

I can pinpoint the moment birthdays ceased to be exciting. November 13, 2007, when I turned 51.

My fiftieth was fantastic, actually: an all-nighter at a club in San Francisco followed by a tour of the wine country from a little inn in Calistoga. My (younger) boyfriend didn't freak out about my turning fifty (at least not that weekend) and my gal pals took me out for a wonderful dinner and celebration.

51 was unmemorable - I think Henry and I went to Red Robin. And last year on my 52nd I had a migraine and went to bed.

That brings us to this year. It started with an argument and tears about homework (Henry cried too). My eye is blood-filled (sorry), swollen and bruised and I'm spending the rest of the day in bed. Don't worry, I'm not alone: my cats and dog are happily lying on top of me.

But it's really not all bad. A friend came by with flowers, and she and other friends are bringing over dinner tonight. My facebook wall and blog comments are filled with best wishes, another compelling example of the power of social media. And best of all, the entire nursing and office staff at my eye doctor's entered the exam room this morning, sang Happy Birthday and presented me with a brownie and candle.

As my sweet doc said: "We feel like you're part of the family." Hmmm... Is that a good thing?

Potatoes? For me? You shouldn't have!

Al Gore is a big fat liar

I had to do that thing with today's paper like kidnappers do in ransom photos so those of you outside Central Oregon would believe me.

Autumn is for sissies, I guess.

I'm really looking forward to flag football tonight at 7 pm.

Aliens in the Classroom

So I'm in my room, folding endless piles of laundry, when Henry bursts in with this announcement:

"Mom! A green person showed up today! She said: 'Don't recycle the lemonade cartons!' "

And then he runs off.

A helpful voice from the cosmos? A cryptic warning?

What's really going on in that new school? I wonder...

Spud.

I'm primarily a perennials gardener. I never fall for the "color spot" annuals and don't specialize in roses or lilies or begonias, in spite of my horticultural heritage. I've also never gotten serious about vegetables.

To get good veggie results in Central Oregon you have to dedicate your spring to babying seeds and starts in a greenhouse, setting up walls'o'water, running out to protect crops from frost in August, and  fighting off the birds and bugs. It's a very short season and doesn't seem worth it to me.

However, in the past I have produced some tomatoes, a pumpkin, two eggplants and bushels of parsley and mint, which appear to be my specialty. (I also try and fail every year to grow arugula - it's a mythic struggle.) But today I can raise my head proudly and declare myself a farmer: I have grown a potato.

I don't actually remember planting potatoes, but occasionally when one starts to sprout in the vegetable bin I take it out and stick it in the ground. While harvesting parsley this morning, I pulled up what I thought was a weed and found a small red potato at the other end. 

I can't describe the awe and pride I felt when I held it up. Any suburbanite can grow tomatoes and zucchini, but to produce a potato seems like an authentic farmer-type accomplishment.

I think I'll steam it in a (tiny) pan and eat it with butter and salt and pepper.

Note to Kathi D.: no need to be flaunting your Cali harvest abbondanza - we're talking high desert here!

dead deer dilemma

Well, Kathi D might have her dead squirrel problem, but here in the forests of Central Oregon, we have a dead deer problem. Or at least my friend Tina does.

Seems a deer wandering through her backyard just curled up and died under a tree. The family discovered it yesterday and is at a loss on how to dispose of it. Suggestions are flying on Facebook, including several who think it could be donated for venison (it's only been dead about 24 hours.) Times are tough here.

Here's Tina's cry for help:

FREE BEER !! Yes, that's right. Just come over and help us move a dead deer from our back yard into the truck. That's all. Because ain't no one in the city of Bend or ODFW going to do it for you. Deer in your yard? Well, it's your deer now. But both agencies I called sheepishly said: "Well, if it happens to find its way onto a public road, then ...." The problem is GETTING A DEAD F%#@ING DEER INTO A TRUCK. Ewww.

Now that's living in the wild.

Awww-gust

I've never really liked August. It's too damn hot, summer is as tired as three-day-old macaroni salad, and all those things you planned hopefully to accomplish aren't done and are mocking you.

My August was supposed to start with invasive eye surgery - fun! However, due to a lurking sinus infection, it's been indefinitely postponed, complete with last minute phone calls, faxes to doctors' offices, canceling airline tickets and general frustration. Not to mention the accompanying sinus infection. Meanwhile, Henry woke up with pinkeye, or eyes. So we're in an upbeat mood this lovely August first.

It's going to be another scorcher here in the (high) desert, so we have to batten down the hatches to keep the house cool. So we begin the slow sticky slide into the school year.

Don't say school!! Henry begs. He has five more weeks of various camps left, so school feels like it's years away. Labor Day being late this year has caused parents to scramble to fill one more week. I've been handing Henry off to whoever drives up, to go to the Fair, the lakes, baseball games and campouts. All things I usually enjoy but don't feel the urge to do right now. Meanwhile, all the Facebook families of the town are having wonderful laugh-filled, joyous, adventuresome summers (and even have time to post their photos and updates).

Hmmm. Mood getting ugly. I think H and I are going to hit the movies and stay out of the heat.

Baby Porky Video

Mom doesn't seem very maternal, but she's just a teenager herself.

It's a little (prickly) baby!

High Desert Museum welcomes baby porcupine

Posted by Terry Richard, The Oregonian July 30, 2009 12:38PM

How do you know whether a porcupine is pregnant?

Wait for her to give birth.

The baby porcupine born at the High Desert Museum south of Bend came as a surprise today because the parent porcupines didn't seem as if they liked each other.

The father porcupine, Thistle, came to the museum when he was less than a year old, in 2004. The museum introduced the mother, Honeysuckle, to him in January.

To the surprise of museum staff, a baby was born this morning, July 30. Museum staff discovered the softball-sized porcupine walking around its outdoor habitat at about 7 a.m., still wet after being born just a few hours prior.

Both parent porcupines came from wildlife rehabilitation facilities. Like all of the wild animals at the museum, the porcupines cannot survive in the wild due to their life history.

The birth of the baby porcupine is evidence that these animals are thriving at their outdoor habitat at the Donald M. Kerr Birds of Prey Center, open to visitors daily, 9 a.m. to 5 p.m.

Female porcupines bear one young after a pregnancy of seven months. Newborns typically weigh 12 to 20 ounces and have all of their quills _30,000 of them _ and four teeth.

When the museum's new porcupine is bigger, it will be sent to a wildlife facility where it will be used for education programs for school children.

In the wild, porcupines leave their mothers when they about 2 months old.

The High Desert Museum is a five-minute drive south of Bend on U.S. 97; 541-382-4754, www.highdesertmuseum.org.

-- Terry Richard; [email protected]

Q: How do porcupines mate?

A: Very carefully.

They’ve got me located

Deschutes County

    1300 NW Wall Street, Ste. 200 Bend, OR 97701-1960

    Phone (541) 388-6570 - Fax (541) 385-3202 - www.deschutes.org

 

NEWS RELEASE                        MEDIA CONTACTS:

Dan Sherwin, 322-7135

        

Bend, Oregon                            June 25, 2009

 

Noxious Orange Hawkweed Found in Bend Landscapes

Immediate Eradication Necessary

 

Orange Hawkweed (Hieracium aurantiacum), an A-rated noxious weed on Deschutes County and Oregon State weed lists, was found in approximately 10 local home landscapes yesterday in Bend. Discovery of the noxious weed outcroppings prompted vegetation officials to ask residents to eradicate the weeds immediately.

 

A Forest Service employee reported the invasive weeds to County Vegetation Manager Dan Sherwin last week. An investigation conducted yesterday by Oregon Department of Agriculture Noxious Weed Coordinator Dave Langland and Sherwin resulted in the discovery of the local infestations. One Hawkweed site is located at the corner of 16^th and Baltimore Avenue in Bend. Another site was discovered at the corner of Colorado Avenue and Broadway. Landscapers were notified and immediately removed the Hawkweed plants.

 

A noxious weed is any weed designated by the Deschutes County Board of Commissioners or the Oregon Department of Agriculture that is injurious to public health, agriculture, range, recreation, wildlife or any public or private property; any weed that impacts and displaces desirable vegetation, such as threatened and endangered plant species, wildlife habitat, and livestock.

 

What is Orange Hawkweed?

A showy alpine native of Europe, … [deleted]

 

 

______________________________________________________________________________

Deschutes County Government provides for the safety, security and health of Deschutes County's 160,000 citizens through public safety, human services, adult and juvenile corrections and many other valuable public services. For more information, please go to www.deschutes.org

Really? Snow? June 9?

I missed this weird little event as it didn't hit the Museum south of town. I hear that children were screaming on the playground. Everyone said it was hail, but it sure looks like snow to me. Maybe we just can't face the S word after May.

The hostas took a beating and I've lost all my irises in flower, but otherwise life goes on in the high desert. I'll take this over 95+ degrees any day. That's coming next, of course.

The "working" part of the back deck. I call that snow.

In which I knit. And garden. Though not at the same time.

This blog is supposed to occasionally focus on knitting. However, when summer finally arrives in Central Oregon, my knitting switch goes off and the gardening switch is triggered.

We only get about four months of gardening in here before it starts to freeze at night, so Central Oregonians go into a bit of a frenzy trying to pack it all in between May and September. It's a real challenge to garden in the high desert. The weather is dry, scorching and freezing, so it takes a pretty hardy plant to thrive. The temperature last month ranged from 31 degrees to 82 degrees, though not in that order, so you can see the issues we face.

But I digress. Knitting. I'm working on the tweedy cabled cardigan that is going along pretty quickly. I don't have a lot of motivation to finish it until fall, but I don't want to lose the rhythm of the pattern, so I work on it sporadically.

I'm also oddly stuck in a never-ending loop of coffee cozies and felted mice.
the latest cozies

Each can be completed in the space of a movie so they're pretty gratifying. This occasionally happens to knitters, getting stuck on repeat on a certain pattern. I'll snap out of it eventually. Meantime, I'm producing a lot of little convenient gifts. I seem to have a problem taking the final step of delivering them, but that's just logistics, right?

Summer camp crazies, one more time

Once again, I find myself reviewing a year-old post and realizing that nothing has changed in the intervening time. This is about registering Henry for summer camps.

As a working single parent, I have to book him for twelve weeks of activities this summer. At an average of $160 a week, it adds up quickly. To avoid the hell of standing in line this year, you can register on-line for a mere 6% more, which also adds up.

Here's last year's post on the subject, comin' round again:

Hell no, I won't go.

"I can't face getting up at 4 am Sat. to stand in line to sign Henry up for the Bend Parks & Rec summer programs. The doors open at 7, so to get your choices, you truly have to line up at 5. 5 AM outside, that is. It's cold and dark and miserable. We huddle in chairs and blankets, wearing our ski gear, waiting it out. Many jokes about how a few years ago, it would have been for concert tix.

Just as bad is the upcoming signup for Kids Inc, the before/after-school care BPR runs in the local schools. Great program, limited space. Last year I got in line at 5, and people were camped out from the night before. It was miserable, boring, cold and damp under the trees at Hollinshead Barn. I love our Parks & Rec for the incredible job they do with programs, parks and trails. But there's GOT to be another solution for this registration fiasco. What it does is reward the most determined, obsessive, clued-in parents who are able to stand in line for hours those mornings. Those who aren't in the know, are new to town or don't have the resources to get there early are screwed for summer camps or childcare for the school year."

repeat, rerun, recycle

I'm realizing that many of the posts I wrote last year can just be re-pasted as new entries.

Does that mean I'm in rhythm with the cycle of the seasons in my life, or that my life is really boring?

Whatever, it makes for easy blogging for lazy bloggers. And since most of you didn't read this blog back then, it's all new to you!

From last April:

Ah, Spring in Central Oregon!

Every C.O. blog is probably posting a similar thought today.

spring is thinking about it

Snowing lightly, but the first bulbs are bravely making their appearance. Yes, it's cold up here in the far north.

Strapping on, buckling in and tightening up

Well, for all you people who thought this might be an exciting bondage post (or is it just me whose mind travels along those paths?), this will be a disappointment because it's about KNITTING! Peripherally at least.

As you may remember, I painstakingly knit my big sis an entrelac purse um, a few months ago. Knitted, felted, blocked. But months later, it's still awaiting a strap. We agreed that a webbing strap might be most comfortable (neck issues) and I found a purse strap set all ready to go with nice hardware. But it wasn't adjustable, and I couldn't figure out how to sew the rings on without a bunch more work. Let me just say here that I'm really tired of looking at this purse.

So, inspired by my nylon briefcase, I decided to go get the adjustable ring hardware and do it that way. After hours on the internet ("she has no life!"), I found out the thing above was called a tri-glide, a center-bar, a rectangular slider, or a number of other labels, and you can buy them from buckleman.com. Not wanting to pay $7 shipping on a .45 cent item and wait, I went out to find one, and FOUR STORES later, I'm admitting defeat.

Popped into Joann Fabric and came up empty on the hardware, though props for the large webbing selection. At Michaels Crafts, nothing even close. Home Depot had industrial tie-downs that seemed a bit much. I then had a brainwave and hit Sportsman's Warehouse to find backpack straps/buckles. [Note: I'm always a bit apprehensive walking into a store that has on its signage: "Camping, Outerwear, Reloading."] They had a huge amount of bizarre and arcane implements of mass destruction, and actually came close to a buckle repair thing, but not really. So I gave up.

So, Susan, I apologize, but I'm now going to have to order on line and hope for the best.