There hasn't been much rain so far this winter. I especially love the cold, clear nights.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Clear Skies
There hasn't been much rain so far this winter. I especially love the cold, clear nights.
Monday, November 10, 2008
November 11, 2008 Remembrance Day
Don't forget to wear your poppy tomorrow.
For The Fallen (fourth stanza)
by Lawrence Binyon, 1914
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Isn't It Wonderful Voting Is So Boring!
At some point in their lives, I brought each of my young sons with me when I voted. This was when we had polling booths in Oregon, before the advent of everyone voting by mail. One son, and I can't remember which one it was, told me when we were on our way home "That was boring, Mom."
My response was "Yes! And isn't it wonderful that it was boring!" He looked at me, confused, and I continued. "We drove five miles to our polling place and arrived here without any problems. In some countries, people would have had to walk half the day or more. No one stood outside the polling place to intimidate us. No one had guns. No one told me I had to vote a certain way or he would hurt or kill us or your Dad would lose his job. I had privacy when I voted and I put my ballot into a locked box. I know it will arrive at the county courthouse safely. The poll worker checked to make certain that I was eligible to vote and later someone will check my signature to make certain it was I who voted and that I only voted once. My vote is secret; I don't have to tell anyone how I voted. I was able to vote freely and easily and I know my vote will be counted. Voting is boring. And oh, we are so very, very lucky that it is."
My response was "Yes! And isn't it wonderful that it was boring!" He looked at me, confused, and I continued. "We drove five miles to our polling place and arrived here without any problems. In some countries, people would have had to walk half the day or more. No one stood outside the polling place to intimidate us. No one had guns. No one told me I had to vote a certain way or he would hurt or kill us or your Dad would lose his job. I had privacy when I voted and I put my ballot into a locked box. I know it will arrive at the county courthouse safely. The poll worker checked to make certain that I was eligible to vote and later someone will check my signature to make certain it was I who voted and that I only voted once. My vote is secret; I don't have to tell anyone how I voted. I was able to vote freely and easily and I know my vote will be counted. Voting is boring. And oh, we are so very, very lucky that it is."
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Saturday Shopping Trip
John and I did our usual Saturday shopping yesterday. We went to Albany and bought groceries, went to the thrift bread store where I snagged English muffins, bread sticks, and a loaf of raisin bread along with loaves of our everyday bread, and filled the SUV with gas which has gone down in price to $2.13 a gallon. Then we headed for Corvallis, driving by the river, a beautiful drive.
We stopped by the Folk Club where I found a small, decorated star shaped box for my collection and then, as it was still cloudy, but not windy or showery, we went to the Farmer's Market. There weren't many people, only a few dogs, and the babies were all snuggled up in their strollers. Musicians, one a lone violinist and the other a group of three men playing instruments and singing folk tunes, at each end of the market. There were mushrooms, kale, pumpkins and squashes for sale. There was also jars of honey, cauliflower in shades of yellow and purple as well as white, peppers in red, green, yellow, and variegated. I bought a bunch of lovely dahlias. We spent some time at the library, picking out books, CDs, and DVDs and then headed home. It was a lovely, quiet day.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Words and Lists
I am a list maker. I make lists of my lists. I have a list of 100 things I want to do before I die and when I cross something off I add something else; I hope to die in my 90s and still have a list of 100 things. I have a list of quilts I want to make and even if quilted 24/7 for the rest of my life, I wouldn't make them all. I have lists of books I want to read, places I want to go, things I want to see.
My most common list, however, is my to-do list. Every morning I write down the things I want to do that day. I usually get most of them done. Sometimes I get none of them done. I seldom get them all done.
I use the procrastination buster of telling myself I'm just going to do something for fifteen minutes and then quit and that often jump-starts me. Still, sometimes there are things, simple things, on my list that just migrate to the next day's list and then the next day's list after that. One is "clean desk".
I think I know what the problem is. It's that word "clean". I was a
stay-at-home-Mom for almost thirty years and I did a lot of cleaning. Boy's dirty little faces, counter-tops, floors, sinks, clothes, dishes. It never ended. I know there are some people who get satisfaction from getting something clean. I'm not one of them. I know it's just going to have to be done again. And again. And again. I have an aversion to the word "cleaning". It means work. It means endless. And I'm just tired of it.
What I'm going to do is change the word "clean" to "tidy". I like tidy. It sounds more like a word a librarian would use. So excuse me now. I'm going to go tidy my desk.
My most common list, however, is my to-do list. Every morning I write down the things I want to do that day. I usually get most of them done. Sometimes I get none of them done. I seldom get them all done.
I use the procrastination buster of telling myself I'm just going to do something for fifteen minutes and then quit and that often jump-starts me. Still, sometimes there are things, simple things, on my list that just migrate to the next day's list and then the next day's list after that. One is "clean desk".
I think I know what the problem is. It's that word "clean". I was a
stay-at-home-Mom for almost thirty years and I did a lot of cleaning. Boy's dirty little faces, counter-tops, floors, sinks, clothes, dishes. It never ended. I know there are some people who get satisfaction from getting something clean. I'm not one of them. I know it's just going to have to be done again. And again. And again. I have an aversion to the word "cleaning". It means work. It means endless. And I'm just tired of it.
What I'm going to do is change the word "clean" to "tidy". I like tidy. It sounds more like a word a librarian would use. So excuse me now. I'm going to go tidy my desk.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Trip to the Coast
John and I went to Newport on Thursday for our annual trip to the Oregon Coast. We visited the harbor and had lunch in Newport and then traveled up the highway through Depoe Bay and Lincoln City. It's been a long time since we'd been in that direction as we usually go to Florence. I remember Depoe Bay from trips we made when I was growing up. There are a few storefronts which look the same, but most of it has changed. There was a lot of traffic for a week-day in September. The weather was just perfect; sunny and 75 degrees and just a little wind. John and I stopped at several viewpoints to take photographs and we also walked hand-in-hand on the beach. It was a lovely day.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
August Heat
I like reading the police reports in the local newspaper because I so often find strange things there. The heat we've been having the past few days seems to really have caused some people to go crazy. How else can one explain, for example, the recent report "subject is throwing raw hamburger at passing cars"?
Raymond Chandler's short story Red Wind contains this passage
There was a desert wind blowing that night. It was one of those hot dry Santa Anas that come down through the mountain passes and curl your hair and make your nerves jump and your skin itch. On nights like that every booze party ends in a fight. Meek little wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husband’s necks. Anything can happen.
I bet he wrote that on a hot day in August.
Raymond Chandler's short story Red Wind contains this passage
There was a desert wind blowing that night. It was one of those hot dry Santa Anas that come down through the mountain passes and curl your hair and make your nerves jump and your skin itch. On nights like that every booze party ends in a fight. Meek little wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husband’s necks. Anything can happen.
I bet he wrote that on a hot day in August.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Blackberry Season
Nobody needs to pity the farmwife, however scratched and bedraggled she may look, coming out of the blackberry patch. She has got something more than blackberries from the time out there. There is no better place than the blackberry patch for that hour of solitude every farm woman craves now and then.
From Rural Free: A Farmwife's Alamanc of Country Living ~ Rachel Peden
This is probably one of the reasons why August is one of my favorite times of the year, despite the heat. There are times and places when I have an excuse to be outside, by myself, to think my own thoughts and dream my own dreams. Those are rare and special moments, even for women of a certain age who live in small towns.
Traveling to Work
I work about 20 miles away in a university town. The road I take to go to work follows the Willamette River which means it curves a lot but then, that makes it fun to drive even if one is not driving a little red sports car with a stick shift.
I go by Mennonite farms with their neat gardens, clotheslines, orchards, houses with wide front porches, a blueberry farm with row after row of bushes loaded with berries, and then through a little unincorporated town with its old church and its notorious speed trap. Yes, I remember to slow down.
I see flashes of the river as I drive and hawks hovering above grass seed fields on my right hunting for rodents and snakes and, on my left, others soaring over the river, looking for fish. The boat landing is often crowded with cars and yet I seldom see even a single boat on the river. If I'm lucky I'll see a blue heron or two standing in the fields.
And even better, it is exactly the same when I drive back home.
I go by Mennonite farms with their neat gardens, clotheslines, orchards, houses with wide front porches, a blueberry farm with row after row of bushes loaded with berries, and then through a little unincorporated town with its old church and its notorious speed trap. Yes, I remember to slow down.
I see flashes of the river as I drive and hawks hovering above grass seed fields on my right hunting for rodents and snakes and, on my left, others soaring over the river, looking for fish. The boat landing is often crowded with cars and yet I seldom see even a single boat on the river. If I'm lucky I'll see a blue heron or two standing in the fields.
And even better, it is exactly the same when I drive back home.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
It's Really Summer
August has the smells and tastes that mean summer's finally here--sweet corn, tomatoes, green beans, cantaloupe, peppers, and cucumbers from the garden, blackberries, peaches and at the end of the month, apples and pears. There is so much it seems never ending. It makes me feel rich. It's the smell of the last of the raspberries coming to a rolling boil for jam at the beginning of the month and the pungent vinegar of bubbling kettles of bread and butter pickles ready to be canned at the end. It's walking by rose bushes lush with flowers with scents so sweet they can make me swoon.
Later in the month comes the county fair and then, at the end of the month, the state fair. There will be animal barns filled with cows lowing and chickens clucking. I love to look at the poultry, the sheep and goats, and the rabbits best. On the midway, there's the music from the merry go round, the happy sounds of those on the rides, the smell of hot dogs and popcorn. I enjoy the flower arrangements,
the baking (oh, those fancy decorated cakes!), and the quilts! I never miss the quilts!
The weather will be beautiful day after day with only a few days here and there that are a little cloudy or have some showers and some that seem too hot, but it will be so lovely for so long it can lull me into thinking it'll last forever.
Oh, there are a few clues summer is ending-- ads for sales for school clothes and supplies, but school won't actually start until after Labor Day so there's time yet. And one thing I've noticed about Oregon--we're always one month behind weather-wise. It's still cool and rainy in June and September is almost always warm and clear and the trees don't even think about changing color until mid-October. So enjoy summer while it's really here. It won't last long!
Later in the month comes the county fair and then, at the end of the month, the state fair. There will be animal barns filled with cows lowing and chickens clucking. I love to look at the poultry, the sheep and goats, and the rabbits best. On the midway, there's the music from the merry go round, the happy sounds of those on the rides, the smell of hot dogs and popcorn. I enjoy the flower arrangements,
the baking (oh, those fancy decorated cakes!), and the quilts! I never miss the quilts!
The weather will be beautiful day after day with only a few days here and there that are a little cloudy or have some showers and some that seem too hot, but it will be so lovely for so long it can lull me into thinking it'll last forever.
Oh, there are a few clues summer is ending-- ads for sales for school clothes and supplies, but school won't actually start until after Labor Day so there's time yet. And one thing I've noticed about Oregon--we're always one month behind weather-wise. It's still cool and rainy in June and September is almost always warm and clear and the trees don't even think about changing color until mid-October. So enjoy summer while it's really here. It won't last long!
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Post-It For Annotations
I use post-it notes for many things and one use I especially like is using it for is annotating library books. I often find sentences or pieces of sentences or even an entire paragraph I want to remember, but I don't want to jump up each time and type it into a Word document. Instead I place a small stack of Post-It notes on the inside front cover of the book and when I come across a great quote I just put one right where the quote begins. It doesn't slow up my reading. If I have a pencil handy I might add a few words about why I like it. When I'm done reading the book it's easy enough to transfer the quotes.
I do this for fiction as well as non-fiction, for books of projects and poetry books too.
I do this for fiction as well as non-fiction, for books of projects and poetry books too.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Monday, June 2, 2008
Pop or Soda
It's finally starting to feel like summer although the highs are still only in the upper 60s. I came across this website which has a map keeping track of whether you call a soft drink pop or soda. I guess nobody calls it a soft drink; that must be under "other". Me? I prefer Diet Coke or sweetened iced tea.
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