Friday, May 1, 2009

R I P


Doug is the younger brother of my friend David.
Doug has been in bad health for some years and last night we lost him. Both David and I were far away. David is in Idaho by now. Doug defied all of the laws of healthful living, but he was a good guy in my opinion.
Rest my friend, your troubles are over.

day planning

I had yesterday all figured out.

Replace the washing machine hoses, mow and groom the lawn, take a nap or two.

I woke up at 4 and could not sleep, so I got up for an hour or so and read and wrote. About 6 I was back in bed and in a deep sleep when Emily came into the room and woke me. She had a gut ache that had kept her awake way too much of the night.

She crawled in under the covers (that makes three in a queen bed now) and we talked. The pain was right behind her belly button and had been with her on and off all week.

She did not want to go to work if she could not do good work (at her school, all of the students works on Friday, and her job at the Portland Zoo is one she enjoys). She was in a quandary.

I suggested that she stay home. So she went back to bed. She woke about 8, googled her symptoms, then called the hot line for her hospital. The help desk called back in half an hour, listened and suggested that she come on in and to not eat first.

So I had to find St. Vincent’s hospital in Portland. Turns out it is not very far away. We had spent a long evening there 29 years ago this summer. We were on a bicycle tour (about 500 miles) and Linda had an accident and ended up in three hospitals, including St. Vincent's.

So about 9 we headed to the Emergency room.

My memory is that when you go to the emergency room, take a sleeping bag, a thick book and enough paper to write a novel, cause you may be there that long. I did not have enough to do.

So Emily checked herself in. I signed as “grandfather” and they took her into the innards (since she is 14 she went to the “children’s” emergency). We waited.

I texted family and rested, took a nap, wrote in my journal, read from an old magazine or two and rested more -- even took my shoes off. About noon, having been there for about 3 hours, Emily texted me: “Come Back.”

The volunteer ladies were wonderful, they got us a couple of passes and showed us Em’s room.

Em was waiting to go have a CT scan done. They had already drawn a bucket of blood and made some other tests. The tech said it would take 20 minutes to do the scan and another 20 minutes for other techs and the doc to evaluate the scan.

An hour and 40 minutes later they had done all of that.

The verdict was that she might have the beginning of an appendicitis or she might have a viral infection, and maybe both. Wait over the weekend and come back in if it hurts.

Emily’s mother is half a world away. Her aunt is back in SF, the nurse aunt was not available, but we did talk to the uncle who is an EMT. Those guys are trained to look for symptoms and in my view they do it pretty well.

So about 4 they released us.

Meanwhile Emily had been in touch with her mom in Thailand. (When my mother got sick I spent most of a week getting in touch with my sister in the middle of Africa).

We visited more with the aunts. If she should have to have surgery what would we do? How could we care for her?

Right now we do not need to worry too much on that one, except in general ways. So, how will she sleep tonight? I don’t know yet. I guess we have time.
I did manage to get the front lawn string trimmed and mowed, so outside, the house looks decent.

tiny house


This is a tiny house that has a lot of character.
It is new, so it can have all of the "modern" goodies, but on a small scale.
Probably not a good place to raise a half dozen teen age kids, but pretty good for a couple.

And here is the tiny car was with that tiny house.
I like the whole idea.

selfish

We humans are a selfish breed.

That comes as no surprise to a 2 year old, but we should do better as we get older, but we do not.

I may not have this right, and the story may be better than the facts, but as I heard it, one of the failing industries was offered a lifeline, but the biggies turned it down because it would mean a cap on their pay.

That the company might go broke and EVERYONE loose their job and income meant nothing to them. It was their selfish interests that came above others.

One of the really big grocery chains is located in my valley, or was. The company had been around for a long time. Various managers and CEO’s had done various things to the company, like expand beyond belief, by buying companies at questionable prices, and it had become a behemoth of a corporation.

Then a new CEO was hired. He figured (I am sure he had help) that if he could sell the company to some one else he could easily make a 50 mil pay check.

So he did. Thousands of lives were ruined, thousands of families had their future clouded, but by george he got his 50 mil.

Which brings me to the up close thought here.

I have a granddaughter who is a really good kid. She is strong and she is bright. But. . . Sometimes she can be as selfish as that CEO I read about.

The point here is not to hang dirty laundry, but to try to come up with a way to guide her. I am her grandfather, after all, and I have some clout still.

If there is anything I have learned from Miriam’s AD it is that most things are not worth arguing about. Few things are worth pushing my personal idea of “best.” Most of the time if by my actions I can make HER happy I am happy too.

Maybe that is not a universal lesson. Maybe I have it skewed a bit, but I think my basic idea is on track. Whether the plate is here or there really does not matter. Whether we eat in this order or that order does not matter, but how we get along with our family and friends determines the rest of our lives.

But I still like strong, powerful women. I still like strong caring men. I like children who are aware of others feelings.

I am afraid that I do not always do this one best either, but my having to have the last say so cuts the other person in ways I cannot always evaluate.

I fear that a lot of the emphasis in our country of late has been on ME. And truly ME is an important part of my life. But ME is not the only one that counts. YOU are important too. And even from a some what selfish motivation, if you are happy I can too. Said in an old fashioned way: If mommy is happy, every one is happy.

Somehow it seems that we were put on this planet, not so much to make sure we were happy and rewarded but to help others be happy and feel rewarded.

Whole philosophies have been based around those items. God, how can I help those around me to see the bigger, better picture, and how can you help me as well?

Thursday, April 30, 2009

old and loved


This is an old house that has been loved and looked after.
A special blessing on the owners current and past.

daughters and houses

I have always enjoyed being with my daughters.

Maybe a moment or two here and there, I was not sure, but the rest of the time I was glad to be their father. As one famous guy (so famous I do not remember his name) said: “Of all the things I have done, being a dad was my favorite.”

Today we spent time with Deanna. She made breakfast and we went for a good long walk. I am somewhat of a aficionado of house design. I like old or new houses that “have not been messed with.” Houses that, though they may have been remodeled extensively, still have the character of the original.

Deanna worked for an Architect for quite a while. He was the same way. Nothing bugs the two of us worse than seeing a 1950 house, with brick from the 70’s and painted 1890 colors. And, it can be really bad.

So I took pictures as we walked. Wonderful tiny houses. Old well loved houses with their character in tack. New houses that look like they belonged right where they were, except that 3500 square feet may be a bit over board for me.

The real ugly houses did not get photographed, but honestly, there was not that many.

Then we went to Ikea and did a lot of looking and $40 worth of buying. Too soon it was time to put Deanna on the airplane. We came to Portland a day early so we could spend a day with Dea and it worked that way and it was wonderful.

Now we are here with Miss Emily. We had dinner together, Miriam is cleaning the kitchen, which is fun at home and wildly so here. She puts things away creatively.

I miss my house and my garden, but I am so glad to spend time with my family.

shed, two views


Two views of the same tiny garden shed. This one is stacked log construction and fits right into the mood of the area.
In some areas a shed as nice as this might house an office or a studio.
The people who work there are called "shedworkers."

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

dam and damn


Back of Arrowrock Dam, Idaho in a dry year.
Behind the camera sixty five miles on a rough gravel roads is the mining town of Atlanta Idaho. We lived there when i was about 3. Mom was pregnant, and went into labor. my father drove her over that gravel road to the hospital. Along the way she delivered and the baby girl died.
I was not there, but I will always associate that event with this road.

journey's end

It was one of those travel days.

We had a bit of sun, a lot of rain, some snow and even a bit of very thick fog.

That is spring in the northwest.

In some areas when it rains the road gets slippery, but up here that is not true, so a rainy day can be a good travel day.

I remember once traveling up to north idaho to get Emily. She had been at her dad’s for the summer. I called Emily’s step mother for instructions, and when I came down the street I could see Emily waiting by the street for us.

I will never forget that experience. It was not that she was unhappy, her step mother is one of the most wonderful women of all time, it was just her anticipation to see grandma and grandpa.

Yesterday we stopped at Burger King for a bit of lunch. BK has a pretty decent Veggie Burger.. When we parked there was a very nice looking Harley with an equally nice side car parked by our car.

That is an interesting ride, I thought. The rider, a guy who was about 6’ 7 or 8, was a VietNam vet, and was riding alone. We visited a minute while we waited for our orders to be filled.

When I went back out to the car with our lunch I admired the combination et again, and it came to me that the combination cost a LOT of money. Good to admire.

When we got to Linda’s house, I looked at the pet door (a cat sized door), and there was Leo’s nose poking through. Talk about being excited to see us. He wiggled and cuddled and preened.

It was good to be at the journey's end.

Monday, April 27, 2009

another trip!


we will stop at that rest stop,it is about a hour and a half away near the historic town of Baker City. The last big broadway musical: "Paint Your Wagon" was filmed not too far away.
we left the box trailer home this time.

Today is travel day

Once we lived past the half way point, and I taught at the University in Boise. That was a 4 hour commute, each way, but that is a different story.

Today we will travel the whole distance to Portland, almost exactly 400 miles. On some days that seems a VERY long ways, but on others it is not so bad. I remember driving truck on that road, some of it before the freeway was completed.

We will sail along: cruise control, heat or air conditioning, cold drinks, stereo, beautiful companion, and a truck full of tools. Seems I have most of the garden and yard tools I ow with us, and since we will be staying quite a while, I have books and art/craft supplies.

It takes about 6 hours of driving, plus whatever time we spend stopped. That is a lesson I learned from trucking. It is not your speed that gets you there, it is not stopping more than absolutely necessary.

So we will take a lunch, set the cruise control and drive and drive.

With luck we will get there just in time for the evening sun to shine right in our eyes! Oh well.

We will stop at Lora’s for a break. That is almost exactly half way. I will take a nap if I feel like it,. Lora worked last night, so I don’t think she will be up, and we won’t wake her up, but Cliff and the kids will be up, ready for grandpa time!

Hate to stop for such a short time, but we will be back. Brianna graduates from the 8th grade on my birthday, so we will return for the party!

Before the day is over we will see 4 or 5 grand kids, one son in law, perhaps 2 daughters, and tomorrow night Miriam will see Leo again.

Leo and Miriam will both enjoy that!

wabi sabi

Some time ago I found the name for a gardening style.

It was called Wabi Sabi. Japanese and some say it is untranslatable, but one try at translation: "a beauty of things imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete, the beauty of things modest and humble, the beauty of things unconventional."

Hmm.

We seek perfection in all we do. Our yard, our lives, the lives of our children and grand children, but here is the idea of finding beauty in the imperfect. When you come down to it, I know a LOT of imperfect, incomplete, modest and humble, and unconventional has been the definition of my life!

The author went on to say that this sounds like permission to be sloppy and to never finish things, but he said that was not a good interpretation. Another writer said that whether we like it or not our gardens reflect ourselves and our views on life.

Not being a shrink I will accept that as a general rule, and not get specific (besides I may want to hide a bit here).

My dear mother was an accountant, she was trained to keep things in rows and columns, and she did it well. I am trained to be an artist where we may not even have rose or columns or even like the concept.

Maybe what I really wish for is controlled mayhem.

Sunday, April 26, 2009

my tunnel


The saturday morning weather forecast was for 32.
So I made this tunnel to cover my tomato, pepper and eggplant plants.
It was 32 and the last plant at the top of the tunnel got nipped a bit. Maybe it will come out of it.
My neighbor has those "walls of water" that are the "proper" way to go, but the price is a bit steep (I can recycle all of these tunnels and use them again and again) so I innovate!.
So we will see how it all works.

When I was 4 years and 3 months old. . .

. . . my father died.

He went to work one morning, bright and full of smiles and never returned. Of course I don’t remember much but I do remember a few things. I remember going to the funeral home the day before the service. I remember being offered a toy by my family so I would stay home, but that I refused. I wanted to see my daddy.

But yesterday we were sitting around and talking, my friends and I and I remember one incident that stands out.

Remember this is a 4 year old memory, which could be off by miles. There is no one to ask about the story, but this is how I remember it.

I went on the truck one day with my father. He had a new Ford truck that might have had 115 hp. It had a single drive (truckers jargon here -- it had one axle at the back of the truck) and probably had a tandem semi (two axled trailer where the front of the trailer was attached to the back of the Ford truck, via 5th wheel).

This day that I remember we had loaded (no memory on that one) and were driving along a river or lake on the way back to the mill. The road was very narrow.

There was a truck parked and blocking the road. There was no evidence of what happened to the driver, but the truck was there and no one could get on.

Several trucks were blocked by this abandoned rig. The drivers congregated to discuss the matter. I remember that the discussion included ways to push the truck off the road and roll it into the canyon so the others could get by.

My memory is that about the time they were ready to do something (not necessarily the roll trick) the driver showed up and drove on.

Not much of a memory. No one else was there, so it can’t be enhanced by others telling me about it. Probably not accurate, but it is my story. I think about it once in a while. It relates back to that story about the black VWup, and how we do things on the spur of the moment.

Whether the men’s actual intention was to destroy some one else’s livelihood or not, I cannot be sure, but none of us know what we might do if we were pushed enough I guess.

One of my grandfathers was killed in a car crash. His brakes went out on a long downhill run. He should have put the car in the ditch when it was going slow, but he did not, thinking he could ride it out.

He made his best call, a fatal one, and went ahead.

Those three stores bang around in my head in various incarnations sometimes. I am not exactly sure what to make of them, except to not judge others when they do something on the spur of the moment that proves to be wrong.

None of us will ever know exactly how we will react until the time comes, and usually it does not.

Thankfully.