To most people desert areas are ugly and a real wasteland. To me those deserts are home. I miss them.

Once this was the tallest man made dam in the world.
A sister of mine was born back behind where I was standing for this photograph. We lived 65 miles on horrible roads from the nearest hospital.
Mom went into labor, dad hurried her to the hospital, but the baby was born along this road. The extreme sad thing is that the baby died.
I can only begin to imagine the sadness as Mom and Dad went on to town and then back to their back country job.

Home canning at it's colorful best, and I don't even like to eat canned cherries.

How about a little color this gray winter morning?

Pipe fittings are fascinating.

back home

I am back from Portland.

Portland Oregon is one of those cities that people love because it is so green. The green is, of course, the result of rain, a lot of rain, a lot of drizzling rain. Gray gray gray.

But it is winter and that is how it is.

It was a good trip. I bought a couple of books at Powell's (can't go in there without buying more than I should! I also got a much needed battery for my fairly ancient MacBook. This MB was new in '07. In the computer world that is Model A vintage. But it works and does what i need and i don't want to put down a grand on a new one, so I make it work.

The weather has warmed up a lot here at the tiny house. This morning it is 45 outside, compared to 21 one morning last week. We will be colder by weekend, but I have demonstrated that this little house can take cold weather and be livable. That is a good thing.

Miriam was glad to see me and knew who I was, but was not sure how long I had been gone. I was really tired, so when I got her to bed I laid down beside her and slept a couple of hours before returning to the tiny house.

Meanwhile, our dingy rooster jumped the fence and is at the neighbors. It is still dark, but he is crowing. Not sure he is capable of learning much.

As spam goes, it was not terribly offensive, but just annoying, so I took it out!
Still like the looks of this old car!

I'd take the touring car in this trip, but it is in the shop (PhotoShop, that is). The car is British, but I don't know beyond that, but what an awesome looking ride. 

break time

I am taking a break later this week.

As far as AD caregiving goes, I am about as lucky and blessed as can be. Daughter is my lifeline.

But daughter 4 in Portland is also a lifeline and she throws it out every few months: "Dad, you are about due for a trip to Portland, right?"

So Thursday I am driving to Portland. I'll spend several days with daughter and her husband as well as see quite a bit of two granddaughters.

Daughter 4 lives right down town, which is about as opposite as can be from our country life here. But because she is so downtown you can walk almost any place. Her car stays in the parking garage most of the time.

I'll walk where I want to go. There is a Ben and Jerry's across the street, a dozen or two restaurants of various size, one huge book stores, a couple of decent art stores and REI within walking distance.

It will be a walking break!

That is me a LONG time ago, maybe 50 years ago. Not totally sure.

Trombones

Yesterday was Miriam's birthday.

It was one of those numbers that Meredith Willson associated with trombones! Let you figure that one out!

She got a shower in the morning and afternoon we went to a restaurant for her birthday dinner. We were the guests of my aunt (my mother's baby sister) and uncle.

It was good. We had a good time. The food was good, though not quite as wonderful as the price, oh well.

Of course by the time we got home Miriam could not remember we had even eaten. That is how my life works now.

Today we are sitting side by side in the white leather chairs that we brought with us when we left our Idaho home. (Daughter 4 bought the leather set new and bequeathed it to us a few years ago, so it has been well used and well loved.)

I hold her hand.

That hand fit into my hand so easily so many years ago and still does.

She cannot remember who I am for sure. She thinks I am her brother.
Inside.

I cry.

I saw this gentleman in a Museum in Portland a while back. I am sure he was very important in his day, and it is a very good Roman copy of a Greek sculpture.

What amazed me was that I was ALLOWED to take pictures at all. Museums have not taken to cameras kindly. When I asked the friendly guard about taking pictures she said it was OK as long as i didn't use flash. Since I would rather chew on barbed wire than use flash, that was not a problem.

grandaughter

I have three granddaughters about a year different in age from the oldest to the youngest.

The last one had her 18th birthday about Christmas time and she decided it was time to spread her wings. She moved to Portland where she is living with Daughter 4, getting ready to go to Chef's school and enjoying her new life.

There are times when we all need good mentoring, and this will be no exception.

Granddaughter sent me a card for Christmas. In part she wrote: "Thank you for treating me like your other grandkids." She is adopted, so that is not an idle statement.

I was a step child and have an inkling of what it must be to be adopted. But when I got word that this child was going to be adopted into my family I vowed that she would never say that Grandpa took better care of the other grandkids than her.

Seems that my wish and determination have come true.