Vancouver Cruisin’

This weekend was Cruisin’ the Gut in Vancouver. Bob checked it out last year and said it was insane so this year we both walked down there.

I had a bunch of stuff to do so I told him I didn’t want to stay long and he said: Don’t worry. It’s like a dorm party. You get a headache after an hour.

That turned out to only be partly true. It’s tons of people lined up and down the street with their camp chairs and coolers. And shiny muscle cars cruisin’ up and down Main. And lots more parked in local lots and on the street. It was super fun in a loud and exhaust-full way.

We have new neighbors and so far, they are terrific.

This morning I woke up at 4am to the quiet sound of music. It’s summer. The windows are open. You can’t get mad about people watching TV in their own home with the windows open. Although I was a little irked that they had to watch TV at 4am.

Once I heard it, I couldn’t stop hearing it so I finally got up to close the window. Except the sound wasn’t coming from their house.

I went around to the other side of the bed to see if Bob had left his headphones on but it wasn’t that.

Then I leaned down to the vent and it was the TV in our basement. I stomped downstairs and turned it off. Then I was wide awake.

I crawled out of bed at 5am thinking: oh well, I’m awake. I can get so many things done since I’m up so early.

I normally get up at 5:20. I’m not sure why I thought those extra 20 minutes were going to be so magical. They were not. I used the whole time trying to figure out how to embed those Instagram photos here.

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Local News Wrap Up

Hey – check out this craptastic photo from when I saw the U.S. Men’s National Team play Belize in the Gold Cup earlier this week. It was my first time ever seeing them play and I loved it. Can’t wait for World Cup next year.

– – –

The morning after the 4th of July I went into the kitchen to put my tea cup away and I saw a man in our backyard opening the shed door.

I said, “Why is there a guy in our backyard?”

Bob jumped up and said, “I don’t know.”

And we both went running out there. He was wearing Jack Skellington pajamas and looked pretty harmless.

He introduced himself like he knew us and I thought it was pretty obvious he was high. He said he was looking for his mother. She had run off.

Bob hustled him out of the backyard and told him to get lost. I thought maybe we should make sure he got home in one piece.

Bob said he saw him later on the porch of the house where he told us he lived. He did not make eye contact.

We’ve got new renters moving in next door. Long time readers will recall that this is a regular event. We really liked the previous renters. It was a couple and they were stable and friendly (uh, but their dog pooped in our yard) but otherwise they were terrific. They’re having a baby and bought a house.

The house has been empty longer than it was between previous renters and word is that the rental agent took extra time to make sure she got good people. We’ll cross our fingers.

I grew a sugar beet. I found what looked like a pink turnip. I tasted it and it tasted like sugar cane mixed with nuclear waste. I guessed it might be a sugar beet and found a photo online. Maybe the wrong seed slipped in at the seed factory?

If I ever time travel to the 50’s and start a band it’s going to be called The Sugar Beats.

I have no idea where the time goes. I woke up at 6:30 and I’ve been going almost non-stop since then. I still have a ton of chores and my poor yard desperately needs attention. But I’m on my way to a Timbers game. Maybe tomorrow.

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Wander in the Garden

They’re facing the wrong way!

The tomato cages are wrapped in plastic to keep the plants from shivering at night.

First pumpkin.

I was wrong about no applegeddon this year. The tree is loaded.

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Bars

The insomnia gods have been visiting again. I wake up every night around 2am and toss and turn for a couple of hours.

Has anyone tried the chillow? It sounds like a great idea that wouldn’t really work in actual practice.

I spend a lot of my insomnia time searching for the cool side of the pillow. The rest of the time I spend fretting about random things like whether I should have watered the pumpkins, did that thing I said to the checker at the grocery store sound stupid, or how long before something bad happens?

Anyway! I love frozen fruit bars but I only have them when it’s hot outside because eating cold things makes me cold. In winter I have to let my fruit get to room temperature before I eat it otherwise I have to put on a coat and two pairs of socks to get through breakfast. My weird old lady habits are already stacking up.

This week I wanted to buy fruit bars and holymoly – they have the dumbest names. Is this the best the product development teams can do? Outshine? What does Outshine have to do with fruit juice frozen into a bar? (Lime is the best!)

I think there was another one called something like Frütti and another kind that sounding boring like Country Swale Delite. I picked this because of the variety pack.

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The Door Knob Fixer

I thought I had an ongoing tale about the door knob but I can’t find it using search. Oh well, it’s so interesting I’m sure you won’t mind hearing it again.

Our front door knob started disintegrating awhile back and co-worker said door knobs are super easy to do yourself so I decided to try.

I stopped by the lock shop to ask a few questions and the nice man told me to bring it in. I figured out how to take it off and I put all the pieces in a box and drove back to the lock shop.

The nice man said I could probably get by without a whole new door knob and he sold me a widget. (Latch? Hasp? Shackle?) I went home installed the widget and put the door knob back on and couldn’t get the door to close.

These all sound like simple steps when I write it this way but they actually involved having to look for tools and wrestle to make the tools work and get the screws in the right way. Plus I had other things I wanted to do with my day besides drive back and forth with a shoe box filled with door knob parts.

I called the nice man and begged him to come down and fix it. At that point I would rather have paid money than deal with it one more second. He said it sounded like I had the bevel hackle knuckle upside down and to just turn it around. So I took it all apart again and spring bolted the tumbler around and he was right it worked!

Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago and the door knob disintegrated again. My husband, who is a prince but is perfectly happy to leave problems like this to deal with later if there is an acceptable alternative, thought we should just not use the front door until we got around to dealing with it. I did not find that an acceptable alternative. However, I also didn’t want to be in charge of calling the locksmith since I had already handled round one of this problem.

Then, during one long night of insomnia I remembered that we have the same door knob on the door between the garage and the shop — a door that we never lock. When I had time I swapped the doorknobs. Genius.

Except that didn’t work either because the widget part was still stuck — where this entire problem started — so one more time I had to go back, take both door knobs off, swap the widgets putting the new widget back on the front door and putting the craptastic old widget in the garage.

In sum, front door locks again and I know how to deal with basic door knob repair.

Posted in doing it wrong, home improvement, the shop | 2 Comments

Great Match Day

Ticket partner was selected for Deal or No Deal at the half so we got to go onto the field at the end of the first half. We got to watch about 5 minutes of the game from the sideline. They scored a goal while we were down there.

He had to pick a suitcase and could win between $25 and $1000 dollars.

Jumbotron! He won $300.

And after we won there was this.

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The Story of the Scary Man

I have a note here that says “scrunchie.” What could I possibly have intended to write about scrunchies? Too bad the moment is gone.

I write stuff out and save it in draft and then later when I look at it, I can’t imagine why I thought I wanted to write about it.

For example, a couple of weeks ago a sketchy man followed me downtown.

I have run into all kinds of strange and interesting people, not just here but other places I’ve been, and this was the first time a person scared me.

I originally wrote out the sequence of events but I don’t think that’s very interesting now.

What is more interesting to me is that I felt bad about it afterward. I don’t want to be that person that freaks out because a stranger, who clearly has problems, talked to me.

But I also decided that you have to trust your gut. This man was aggressive and deep in my personal space. Also, his face was banged up so it was reasonable to assume he was capable of violence.

In the end, nothing bad happened. I ran into my office building and he wandered off to bother someone else.

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Garden Update

Big pink dahlias. These are massive and droopy. Even staking doesn’t seem to help.

I think I’m going to have someone help me make a better trellis. I can’t find a sample photo right now but I want them to be able to grow up more.

Smaller dahlia.

Peas, detail shot.

Half of the tomato plants. When I was buying plants they had this one variety that was grown specially to be healthy. What a relief after all the unhealthy tomatoes we’ve got in the world. It made me mad. I didn’t buy that kind.

Beets! I love beets and didn’t get any last year. Not a problem now.

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You Can Dance Right Through Your Life

Amazing sky last night

I’ve had this post started for a week. I hope finally posting it will cure my What A Feeling! earworm.

I pick up the bus downtown in front of a nice restaurant.

Several months ago I saw a group of women arrive at the restaurant all dressed in off-the-shoulder t-shirt dresses and tights with leg-warmers and heels.

I went up to them and said, “I recognize the look, what’s the occasion?”

It turns out there is a musical of Flashdance.

Flashdance came out when I was a freshman in college. I sent a note to my college friends about it and we took a guffawing stroll down memory lane.

I dug around in the archives and found the DVD and I decided to watch it last weekend.

Wow. What a terrible movie. I don’t think I’ve seen it since it originally came out.

My recollection is that I liked the movie and the dancing and the music. I admired the protagonist because she was so pretty and confident and thin. And she was following her dreams!

Upon my most recent viewing I thought she was an idiot and the dancing was mostly awful. What was her boss thinking carrying on with an 18 year old? Coincidentally I turned on a crime show and there was a guest star that looked strangely familiar and I realized it was the actor who played the boss.

The movie is just a series of music videos barely held together with a dumb story about a girl who’s welder by day, exotic dancer by night, but her dream is to join a professional dance company. All the women had to do everything wearing a leotard cut up to her hip bones. Even the ice skater.

Very entertaining in a purely nostalgic way.

To conclude, I leave you with some of the poetry of the songtrack:

Locking rhythms to the beat of her heart, changing woman into life
She has danced into the danger zone, when the dancer becomes the dance!

It can cut you like a knife, if the gift becomes a fire!
On a wire between will and what will be!

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Grab That Cash With Both Hands

First of all, when I saved this recipe for stuffed poblano peppers with cashew chipotle sauce I figured I would most likely never get around to trying it. However, we had company this weekend and I gave it a shot and I am here to report that it is terrific and worth the effort. If nothing else just make the sauce and heed the commenters who warn that three chipotles in adobo are very spicy. I just used one. You could also make your life easier and mix a big can of roasted chiles with the rice and pour the sauce over it.

– – –

At the freeway off-ramp where the bus gets off to go to the park-n-ride there is almost always the same couple holding up a sign asking for money. They are young, maybe 20. I tend to frown at them because they have cigarettes and fast food and leave all their trash around.

The other day there was a regular looking woman standing at the off-ramp in the grime and exhaust wearing nice clothes and sandals. She looked like your friendly neighbor who always says hello when she’s out walking her golden retrievers.

She held a sign that said: Don’t give my kids money for heroin.

It breaks my heart to think of all the terrible things that have happened to motivate her to do that.

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