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Goodnight Garden

I’ve been prioritizing some indoor projects and have missed a couple of sunbreaks that would have been good opportunities for some yardwork.

Bob and I went for a walk this morning under grey skies and blowing wind. When we got home I figured I’d better hop out there while I could. At least it wasn’t too cold.

I brought in the hoses and tidied up a bit in front. Then I pulled up what was left of the garden and dug my first big compost hole of the season. I usually dig 3 or 4 big holes in the garden and rake the leaves and apples and garden compost into it and cover it back up and next spring I’ll have the same rock-filled dirt I have every year. It’s an amazing process.

I always wonder what would happen if something weird happened in my neighborhood and the authorities came to my door: “Ma’am, Google-satellite indicates unusual digging activity in your yard. We have a warrant and are bringing in a backhoe. Then they’d dig up my apples and leaves and tiny green tomatoes and make a big mess.

I pruned up the dahlias. They are still bravely waving their colors in the driving rain and whipping winds. I also dug up some stuff that was finished. At Easter my mother-in-law gave me a pot of pretty purple tulips and I finally found a spot to put those in the ground. There’s plenty left to do out there but at least I’ve made a dent in it.

Now I’m so tired I can hardly see straight. At least I got my cardio in.

I realized I never ate anything so I’ve got some soup brewing on the stove and I’m going to make some tea and take a break and then I’ve got to get into the indoor stuff. I started organizing the closet this morning and I’m at the point where’s everything’s piled around on the bed. I have no choice, must take care of that before the day is over.

Next week I’m trying the bus fulltime. We’ll see how it goes.

Photo: Bug that was living on the barbeque.

A Pocket of Cellulite

We celebrated my cousin Jeff’s birthday on Thursday night. I took another series of my award winning photographs. This is the birthday man with his record player cake made by his lovely bride, Meredith. If you look closely, it goes to 11. We had yummy Mexican buffet and the cake was delicious and I enjoyed plenty of red wine, which will not surprise my three loyal readers. Meredith’s post on the festivities can be found here.


I did not have the best week of my life and Friday seemed to be going in the same direction. I won’t write out the whole gory story here but we had made an appointment to get a part replaced in our furnace and at about 8:15a we got a call telling us they couldn’t come out until the week after next. After a bit of back and forth, me not at my most kind and friendly, they made arrangements for someone to stop by and re-evaluate our situation and in the end they said it was fine to use our furnace with the broken part. We had warmth once again.

There were some other trivial frustrations and I didn’t help matters by taking on some extensive cooking projects. At one point, after a clumsy scooping maneuver with a giant spoon that sprayed casserole all over my range, I thought to myself: “Crap, when is something good going to happen to me?”

About 5 minutes later, something did.

During the summer I entered a fiction writing contest sponsored by Wordstock Portland’s big book fair. I got a notice that I made the top 10. My story will appear in a publication for the fair and they will announce 3 winners at the festival. Yay! I haven’t submitted anything recently, but I’ve been doing this writing thing for a long time and have never had even the tiniest smidge of recognition outside of teachers or writing group so you can imagine me bouncing off the walls for the rest of the evening.


Today we went to a wonderful brunch to celebrate my yoga friend Tonya’s 40th bday and afterward we went to the mall to see if we could find work clothes.

This is at least my fourth outing for work clothes and I can’t find anything that I like or that fits. Help!

Pam’s latest fashion tip: don’t bother with petites. There is never anything good in petites. I kept wandering around thinking: where are the cute clothes? And I really want wool because I’m half lizard and us reptiles get cold in the winter.

I found three pairs of pants to try on, different brands, all the same size on the label. One I couldn’t get over my knees. One I could zip, but it was so tight you could see the pocket of cellulite on my right thigh that looks sort of like Jesus eating a candied apple. The last pair, a higher price brand name, was totally baggy. I also tried on a sweater that was scratchy as if they were trying to make it uncomfortable. So aggravating.

Also, right outside the fitting room there was a TV playing football. “Why would they do this?” I could hear football as I was trying to relax and enjoy girl time and clothes trying on. As I left I saw a man sitting there watching the game. I stopped and looked at him and said: “OH! That’s why they have football playing here.” And he lifted his arms as if signaling a field goal. Classic.

One more thing: they had a couple racks of something called tummy tuck jeans that made me want to throw myself in front of train. Can you imagine strutting out in your jeans and someone saying, “Hey those are cute, what are those?” and you have to say: “My tummy tuck jeans.”

Pumpkin Shakes!

Yesterday was a monumentally crapola day. I don’t even know where to start or if its worth the bother. I’ve been mad about something that I’m not going to get into here but for three nights in a row it resulted in the thing where I wake up at 3am and can’t get back to sleep. And for reasons that I’m not going to explain right now I had to take the train to work yesterday and I hate the train.

The trip in wasn’t bad but the trip home was less than delightful and this smug patronizing jackass fare inspector was giving this woman a hard time about getting her ticket validated. It had nothing to do with me but he was such a jerk about it my blood was boiling. He moved on to a group of high school age kids and one of those kids didn’t have a validated ticket either. As officer fare inspector tried to fill out a ticket the kid couldn’t find his ID and couldn’t remember where he lived or what his phone number was. And he was very earnest about it. Meanwhile, his school mates took pictures and movies and cackled. One of the kids moved to sit across from me and he said, “I’m going to put this on Myspace.” It was awesome.

The moment the train dropped us off the sky opened up and raindrops with an individual water volume of a gallon each began dropping out of the sky. Of course I’m too cool to run but I did anyway and a bucket full dripped off my rain coat and into the front seat as I wrung out my bangs. Then it took a half hour to get on the freeway. I timed it. Okay, I exaggerate, it was 27 minutes from the time I got in my car at the train station until I was actually driving on the freeway.

(Quick explanation — the train doesn’t go across the river so I have to drive to the train station to the park and ride.)

But the day was about to wildly improve.

In the morning, as I got on the freeway, I passed Burgerville and the sign out front said: Fresh Pumpkin Milkshakes.

I’m too lazy to link right now but on this site my love of all things pumpkin has been well documented. I’ve also written about how I never eat fast food and consume, perhaps, one hamburger a year. But, I wanted one of those shakes.

I picked up Bob from work because he had walked to school and it was now raining about 6 feet a minute and his kayak is in the repair shop. I suggested a little burger love for dinner and he was on board immediately.

The pumpkin shake was FABULOUS. It tasted actual pumpkin-y and not too sweet but yummy spices. If you live near Burgerville, run out and have one. If not, I will go have one for you. The burger was yummy, too. AND we were done eating and all the refuse cleared away by 6pm. I can see the appeal of this fast food thing.

This morning I took the bus to work. I love my dear husband because he’s smart and has a great sense of humor and he gets me and even though there are domestic chores that he doesn’t care about or think are very important, he will still do them because he knows it makes me happy. But sometimes he makes it difficult not to kill him. At 5:30am as we staggered out of bed yawning he asked me what time I wanted to leave for the bus transit center. 7:00, I said.

At 6:55(!) I heard the shower downstairs go on. I had to double check because that did not seem possible. Nope. It was. Fortunately, he’s a boy so he can go shower to front door in 15 minutes plus I had the car running for him in the driveway.

Magical Laundry
More than once in the last 11+ years I’ve been married, I’ve told my husband I don’t mind doing a majority of the laundry but I don’t want to have to empty pockets, turn everything right-side out and dig around in his closet for hangers.

I ask you: if someone would do your laundry under those conditions, wouldn’t you do back flips for joy?

Just this past weekend I told him that after 11 years, I no longer hoped for any progress in this area.

Last night, for the second time in a week, I’ve pulled laundry out of the dryer and a $5 bill floated to the floor.

I figured it had to be magic.

I told Bob about it. I said, “I hope the bills get bigger.”

He looked a teeny bit sheepish and said, “I don’t think they will.”

Roots and Berries
Several weeks ago there was a story in the paper about this woman who was lost in the woods. I’m too lazy to look for the article so I’m re-telling the story from what I can remember.

It was a great story because she was in her 70’s and after a big search over several days they found nothing and gave up. Two guys on the rescue team, on their day off, decided to go out and look a bit more and found her and it was like 10 days later.

Her family was at home planning the memorial. When they called the husband, “We found your wife,” he said: “You mean her skeleton?”

She was in bad shape but last I read she was recovering.

But that’s not why I’m writing this. One of the rescuers or doctors or whatever made a statement that they weren’t sure what she survived on in the woods, maybe roots and berries.

Seriously, is there anyone outside of a trained outdoorsman who would recognize an edible root out in the woods? If you were out hiking and got hungry and turned out you left your Tanka Bar in the car and you thought, “man, some delicious roots would really hit the spot right now,” would have the first clue what to look for?

I don’t have any outdoor training but I’ve spent time a lot of time in the woods and other than wild onions which I’ve only seen in one very limited location (see photo) I wouldn’t know the first thing to eat. Even the berries part could be treacherous because I remember seeing some pretty red berries in the woods and my Grandpa told me he wouldn’t eat them because he didn’t see the birds eating them.

I just thought it was funny that the spokesperson thought this lady might have eaten roots.

Nothing to Post: Just Typing

This is a giant hole in the ground in the center of downtown that will someday be an improved public transportation hub. Right now it’s just a pain in the ass although I make it a point not to take my car anywhere near this area and do the pedestrian thing so it’s not really a pain in my ass.

It rained most of the weekend and most of the night which means standing water on the highway. It rained this morning as I left the house in the dark. So we’ve got dark, driving rain and standing water. What does that equal?

Crazy drivers.

Zipping and weaving between trucks. A van that needed to get from the onramp across three lanes to the fast lane, right now! I don’t know what you’d call it but where I get on the Morrison Bridge I have my own lane, I don’t have to merge. The people already on the bridge have a painted “divider” so they stay in their own lane where it meets mine and then have to change lanes if they want to get in my lane. This morning a guy (in a Subaru! Of course.) drove right over the divider because he wanted my lane and then had to swerve to miss me since (a) it was my lane and I was in it, and (b) the only place I could go is over the rail and into the water. Sheesh, people.

Update on Orhan Pamuk, Snow (further explanation here, books #27, #28 and #29): this was among my few goals for the weekend to finish this book. I only picked it up once, last night and I read one chapter. I also checked the page count and I’m not even halfway. Oof! Is this going to be another Fortress of Solitude? I’m not ready to quit yet. I think I can get through it, possibly practicing some speed reading techniques I learned on some cheesy website. I’m snickering as I write that because speed reading means I skim my eyes over the words with about 3% comprehension. Hannah’s going to send me a note and tell me to quit. I’m so ashamed.

If it would stop raining long enough, maybe I could run out there and save the last few tomatoes.

Portland Oregon Water
When summer boogied, it didn’t waste any time. We went from pleasant sunshine to cold, hard rain. I thought about pulling up the tomatoes last weekend but then thought we’d have at least one more warm streak. Maybe we will. I’m going to put my hoses away to see if it that will help.

We had the furnace serviced yesterday and some liner or pan or whatever that we’ve been watching has finally gone bad and we need a new one. It’s hardly catastrophic but not what I want to spend my money on right now and definitely not what I want to spend yet one more Friday doing – sitting around the house while someone works on the furnace. I had some money set aside to do something fun with and so far, something fun seems to be having heat this winter.

Oh well, there are way worse problems a girl can have. The serviceman did not feel great about us using the furnace while this part is kaput and temperature-wise we’re on the threshold. We can make do with a sweater and a space heater to take the edge off but blasting some real heat would be a lot nicer.

We had writers group here today and I baked an applesauce cake. We have tons of apples on our little old tree and I’ve been making applesauce the past few weekends. The cake came out good but it wasn’t as sweet as I would expect. I guess that’s because of the icing that calls for another half pound of butter and two cups of powdered sugar. I didn’t make the icing. It was still yummy. The group hasn’t met in a couple of months so it was fun to see everyone and we had two new people join us and I thought it went well. And I got some great feedback on a story I’ve been working on for eons that I couldn’t quite get to work. I think it’s very close.

I’ve been looking forward to getting my shows back except for two of them don’t even start until 2008 so I’m not as overloaded as I expected. I liked Bones but I’m not sure it even made sense. It seemed like the bad guy sort of appeared randomly in one of the last acts and then, !, they figured out there may be another bad guy but they never looked for him and instead resolved some character awkwardness resulting from last year’s season finale. I added Bionic Woman and I’m on board for now. Every person I’ve mentioned this to has mentioned the original which really has nothing to do with this show except for the name and basic premise, being that some poor mangled woman was rebuilt using advanced technology and has super human powers. I watched the original and I loved it but then, I was about 13, it was like the show was invented for me. I think the new one has potential if they do interesting things with the characters and if nothing else, Starbuck is in it. I almost think her character is the most interesting.

Last week while the TV was on The Tube the Journey video for “Don’t Stop Believin'” came on and it was a live performance from the Escape Tour. I know because I was a Journey fanatic at that point in my life and I saw that show at least twice, maybe three times. I helpfully told Bob the names of all the members of the band and a little bit about them which I’m sure he appreciated since I’m sure Journey was on the short list for his most loathed bands during that time.

Tomorrow afternoon we’re going to a get together for some individuals who worked on a program for Bob’s school. I’ll keep the explanation short — there was a collaboration of various individuals to do an art/performance piece that uses digital media. Try here. I went to see it last night and they set up this grid in an open room and then use these “pucks” that activate certain lights, sounds and rhythms based on where the puck is on the grid. So the performers move around with the puck and one person activates rhythm tracks and the other person activates melodic tracks and at the same time certain light patterns flash. I’m sure I’m doing a terrible job of explaining it but it was really cool, both as an art piece but also made you think about the applications for this technology.

That’s the scoop for now.

The Difference Between Guilt and Shame
Last night before class I visited with my yoga teacher, Denise, and the teacher who taught the class before ours.

Denise was telling a story about a difficult yoga student who was having an anger problem at class. (Sounds funny but this isn’t the first time I’ve heard a story about a hostile student bumping heads with a yoga teacher.)

Then Theresa told about being a new student and having to do something in class that she didn’t like or holding a pose too long and how it made her mad at the instructor. “Why is she making us do this? Bitch.”

So then I told about being a new yoga student and not being able to do the poses or keep up with the class and how that made me feel mad at myself, because if I’d started yoga a long time ago, I could do this stuff already.

“And that,” Denise said, “is the difference between guilt and shame.” Then she left to help a new student get signed in.

Theresa and I looked at each and said, “But which is which?”

Health Care and XFiles In One Easy Post
Yesterday was my annual exam which is no big deal except I had to wait one hour for what was 5 minutes with the doctor. Kind of a burn, but why don’t I be grateful that I don’t have to go that often. At least I brought my own reading material. According to the nurse, I’m at exactly the height/weight that I have on my driver’s license. There should be an award for that. First I wrote plaque – but seriously, who wants a plaque? How about a $5 discount on your co-pay for your next visit?

I don’t know enough about the health care business to have a strong opinion on what’s going to fix it. I think everybody involved could use improvement, starting with the doctors and moving on to the insurers, the drug companies and then to the patients, themselves. I think you need to get all those parties in a room talking before making any big billion dollar health care reform.

One thing I don’t understand about the insurance I have now, is the blizzard of paper that follows every appointment. A couple of years ago I had a series of health issues which weren’t serious but involved about 6 trips to the doctor in 6 months – highly unusual for me. Every trip and every lab test involved a separate statement from the clinic, sometimes 3 or 4 pages long. Then a statement from the insurance. Then a statement from the clinic. Then a statement from the insurance. Then I’d get a bill from the clinic for $11. How much did the time, energy and resources cost for them to get $11 out of me?

My most recent Netflix was the first disc of the first season of The XFiles. I was a huge XFiles fan. I thought I started with the first season but looking at the episode guide, I started with the second season. The wiki says the series debuted in September 93 and it holds up really well. Mulder’s hair is funny and Scully’s wardrobe with the fancy suits with giant shoulders look ridiculous but the stories are still good.

I remember looking forward to that show on Friday nights. End of the work week. Crack open a cold beer. I was living in my Aunt Aileen’s basement and I had already met Bob but usually I didn’t see him until Saturday so it was my show. Also that was when I first got on the Internet and alt.tv.x-files was my first usenet group and XFiles fandom led to my one and only time in a chatroom, I joined an XFiles chat on AOL. They were teenaged boys and on the east coast, so they’d already seen a show that hadn’t aired where I was. Yeah, it seems obvious now but at the time it was all new and weird.

I’ve been wanting to watch the first three seasons again for awhile. That’s one of my winter projects.