September Poem of the Month

Will There Really be a "Morning?"
by Emily Dickinson

Will there really be a "Morning?"
Is there such a thing as "Day?"
Could I see it from the mountains
If I were as tall as they?

Has it feet like Waterlilies?
Has it feathers like a Bird?

Is it brought from famous countries
Of which I have never heard?

Oh some Scholar! Oh some Sailor!
Oh some Wise Men from the skies!
Please to tell a little Pilgrim
Where theplace called "Morning" lies!

New Kind of Post: Wordless Wednesday

So, I know the title says Worldess Wednesday, but this is an explanation. I saw on a blog the other day a "W.W." section . The author of the blog would post a picture (or two) each Wednesday and I thought that might was a brilliant idea and worth a try, since I sort of am a picture freak. I'm going to try it out, with one change...I will caption my photos so I can remember the details later on. Let me know your thoughts. Here is week one of Stephanie's "Wordless Wednesday"

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Above photos take 9/09 of the "Inverted Crown" near the Rose Garden Arena, Portland OR.

Around the World in 80 Days

Well, maybe 80 days, maybe a few more or a few less.

I was reflecting on the summer and early fall the other day. I realized that I've sort of "traveled the world" through the activities I have participated in. It has been great fun. I started out by heading to France and skipping stone while watching Amelia with Megan. Then we headed to South Africa and Mexico when we went to the Ladysmith Black Mambazo & Los Lobos concert at the Oregon Zoo. Headed to Japan with the Obonfest and then again with Liesl when the Portland Taiko group performed at the Rose Garden Amphitheater. That is an amazing group. Next up: India with the India Fest downtown. That is where I really decided I was born into the wrong culture. This way I suppose I get to enjoy lots of other cultures. Went to Italy at the Fiesta Italia. Enjoyed going to Ukraine and then the Polish Festival.

Not only did I go places via festivals and concerts, I also absorbed the 1905 Tsarist Russian era when Holly and I went to Fiddler on the Roof. Learned of the goings on for a young girl in Germany pre- and during WWII when I read The Book Thief. I went back in time with Holly, Mary and Brian when we went to the historic baseball game. I wonder what a trip into the future would have looked like?

I went from beach to mountain top, forest to plains, city to country, noise to solitude and have enjoyed the ride.

Next few stops: I believe it may be Greece at the Annual Greek Festival and Covered Bridges. I'm game!

"Na zdrowie!" (To your health/cheers in Polish)

I learned the above phrase today. I learned others, but have already forgotten them. The emcee at the Polish Festival in North Portland was once upon a time a language instructor, therefore, we practiced...A LOT. I added to my list of festival attendance today and enjoyed my experience. There were a lot of people in who came out to enjoy the 16th Annual Polish Festival. There were dancers, singers, food, cultural clothes, and Polish goods. Who can ask for more at a festival of any sort? The festival was put on by the St. Stanislaus Parish and Polish Library Building Association.

I know I have said this before, but one of the things I truly love about going to cultural festivals happens to be the clothing.

This group was a Polish Choir that had come from Seattle. In this photo they were singing the Polish National Anthem.

This is part of one of the stained glass windows in St. Stanislaus Catholic Church. The only Polish Church in Portland.


While there was a little break in the entertainment I wondered through the vendors booths. There were beautiful pieces of pottery, jewlery, and clothing. The above shaws came in all colors.

This is a dance group from Vancouver B.C. and they were AMAZING!

The clothing in the above picture would be what "royalty" would wear. While the clothing in the following picture is what the "worker" would wear.

It was a fun festival and I hope to return next year!

On a transportation related side note: I rode the MAX Green Line part way to the festival today. It opened officially 2 weeks ago today and I had yet to ride it, even though there is a stop at the bottom of my hill. It was convenient as parking would have been crazy at the festival. Looking forward to attempting to ride it to work sometime. I say attempting because it would require me to get earlier and leave home earlier in the morning...not an easy thing for me to do, but I can aspire to it, right?!

Sunrise, sunset

Is this the little girl I carried?

Is this the little boy at play?

~

I don't remember growing older

When did they?

~

When did she get to be a beauty?

When did he grow to be so tall?

~

Wasn't it yesterday

When they were small?

~

Sunrise, sunset

Sunrise, sunset

Swiftly flow the days

Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers

Blossoming even as we gaze

~

Sunrise, sunset

Sunrise, sunset

Swiftly fly the years

One season following another

Laden with happiness and tears

~

What words of wisdom can I give them?

How can I help to ease their way?

~

Now they must learn from one another

Day by day

~

They look so natural together

Just like two newlyweds should be

Is there a canopy in store for me?

~

Sunrise, sunset

Sunrise, sunset

Swiftly fly the years

One season following another

Laden with happiness and tears

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Not only do I love this song from Fiddler on the Roof, I love actual sunrises and sunsets.

Because of fires in southern Oregon we have had some beautiful sunrises and sunsets. These photos are courtesy of KGW viewers.

Sunrise with Mt Hood (hikerin97070)

Sunset (Rainy1960)

"It's not over until you cut the cake."~A. J.

The above quote was a statement by one of my co-workers. She was referring to another co-worker's retirement. A dear friend of mine, Linda, who I've worked with for three years retired today. It was also her birthday! Way to celebrate Linda! A. J. had kept telling her all week that she could change her mind...right up until the cake was cut, then there was no going back. We had a retirement party at the end of the day to say goodbye and good luck! The cake did get cut!Congratulations and Happy Birthday Linda! I will miss not seeing you every day.

Linda and me at her party!

Retirement/Birthday Cake...looked yummmy...

"Retirement may be an ending, a closing, but it is also a new beginning."

"Retirement, a time to do what you want to do, when you want to do it, where you want to do it, and, how you want to do it."

above quotes by: Catherine Pulsifer

Foggy Morn

I love mornings like the one today. I love fog. I am not so sure what I love so much about it, but I do. I remember when I was in college and would be up so late into the night/wee morning hours that I would see the fog starting to settle. When I'd awake in the mornings we'd be socked it. I was in heaven. My favorite mornings were when I couldn't see the building next to my dorm. It was calming to me. I still find it calming and somehow, refreshing. There have been "foggy mornings" in the Portland area recently, but not near where I live. That is, until today.

The picture below is the scene from my parking lot as I was getting into my car.

This picture is of some trees on my way to work. This is nearing where the sun had already burned through most of the fog.
Happy Foggy Morning! :)

The House Of Dust: Part 01: 08: The White Fog Creeps from the Cold Sea Over the City

by Conrad Aiken
The white fog creeps from the cold sea over the city,

Over the pale grey tumbled towers,

And settles among the roofs, the pale grey walls.

Along damp sinuous streets it crawls,

Curls like a dream among the motionless trees

And seems to freeze.

The fog slips ghostlike into a thousand rooms,

Whirls over sleeping faces,

Spins in an atomy dance round misty street lamps;

And blows in cloudy waves over open spaces . . .

And one from his high window, looking down,

Peers at the cloud-white town,

And thinks its island towers are like a dream . . .

It seems an enormous sleeper, within whose brain

Laborious shadows revolve and break and gleam.

Ratatouille...the dish, not the movie.

I cook a lot, and like it. There is, however, a list of foods that I have never cooked with. Not sure why this is...I think there are several reasons: 1) I don't like a particular food; 2) I'm afraid of the food (weird, I know, but you all have to admit that there is some food item somewhere in the world that scares you); 3) cooking that food just doesn't particularly strike my fancy.

Tonight I cooked a lot (well, not that many, but for the number of them in one evening it seemed like a lot) of foods that fall under categories 1 and 2 and maybe even 3.

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I little back story: My place of employment is a place that houses a lot of people who are very food oriented. We are constantly eating or talking about eating. There are staff members who often bring breakfast in, or those random chocolate cakes that we call breakfast, only due to the time of day we eat them. There is also a steady flow of potlucks that are spread throughout the year. We try to create "health oriented" potlucks every once in a while (near Valentines Day we have the Heart Health Potluck-I guess that is really the only one I can think of).

Because of the amount of gardeners we have and our goal to be somewhat "healthy" while gorging ourselves we recently decided that we would have a "Veggie Potluck". I being the unvegetarian meatlover that I am, don't cook vegetarian specific dishes. Yes I have the green beans, the corn, carrots and peas as side items. But putting them all together to make a main dish? That is a challenge. I decided to first turn to my trusty cookbook and found a recipe for Ratatouille. I looked up variations online and decided to steer away form a recipe calling for a "fireproof casserole". I also consulted a friend who is a vegetarian. In the end I returned to the good ol' Betty Crocker. I decided to make a "test" dish before making it for all my co-workers. Didn't want to make anyone sick or anything.

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So tonight I headed to the store. I bought lots of food items that as I said earlier, fall into the categories listed above. I never used to like zucchini-bought it, same goes for yellow squash-bought it, same again for bell peppers-bought it. The eggplant though, that is a food that has always scared me. Why? I don't know. I learned my lesson tonight-you should always try something that scares you, the end result might just be wonderful. Until this evening, cooking any of these foods didn't particularly strike my fancy. The recipe looked good, and I needed a dish to share at work. Let's try it. Ratatouille, here I come.

After lots of dicing, boiling, simmering, I think I found a good dish. A dish I would probably make again (which is a good thing seeing as how I need to take the replicated dish to work next week). One change though, which would snap the vegetarian title off this dish...yes, I would add some meat...I'm thinking some sausage for a bit of spice.

After making this dish, I do want to watch the movie again. Maybe a weekend rental?! Also, I will experiment with some other eggplant recipes. I think it could be a new favorite food!

A new trend...

...and a really good reason to not spend a lot of money on a dress!

Danielle informed me a couple of weeks ago when she was here of this new trend. They call it "Trash the Dress." I decided to look up some pictures. Thought it was a very "out of the box" idea that is wonderful. I think if I was getting married I'd consider this, but I don't know if I really could do it. I bet it could be fun with the right photographer...brother, look into this!

Thoughts?

"Grape Stomp" by Kelli Djulus.

This one is a little more daring on the brides part.
Photo by John Micheal Cooper.

I have friends that I can really see doing this. Hope someone I know tries it so I can see what the turnout can be.

Welcome to the world!

Holly and Brian's adorable new addition to their family has arrived!
The specifics:
Isaiah James was born September 12, 2009 at 10:44pm

19.5 inches and 7 pounds 9 ounces of cuteness

I was so glad to visit and hold the cute bundle!

Congratulations Raby's!

"...And know they love you." C.S.N.

I'd never seen Crosby, Stills and Nash in concert, the complete opposite of those that I accompanied tonight. I joined Megan and her parents, Gary and Claudia, for the concert at McMenamins Edgefield. They have seen the group in concert several times. When Megan first asked me if I'd like to join them, I had to ask what they sang. I have never, ever been good at pairing a song with a musician, or group. Once she told me some of their songs I did recognize them. I still did my "homework" and listened to as many songs of theirs as I could before going. I knew enough of the group to know that they had performed at Woodstock, little else from that point.

Once we got to the location and parked, we grabbed the chairs and off we went to get in line. A line that was hugely long. We walked, and walked, and walked some more. And then we found the end of the line...near where the beginning had been. Our walk was pretty though. It is very hilly in the area and we meandered through the hills, and through the people that were all in line already.

We got in and seated. The website had said not to bring cameras in, so I left mine at Megan's house. She decided to stow hers in a "secret pocket" in her backpack. I should have had her stick mine in there as well. You never know though. Her camera successfully took 3 pictures. One of her parents, one of the two of us and one of she and her parents. Then the battery died. We tried taking video/pictures with our cell phones...then my video couldn't be sent. Oh well. You live and learn. As soon as Megan emails the picture of us I will update this post to include it.

These pictures were taken with my cell phone. The one above was taken from the stage area. The one below is from were we were seated looking toward the stage.

The concert was enjoyable, the weather was beautiful, the venue was fun, and the company was great. I always enjoy spending time with Megan and her parents. They are wonderful people. Now I can say that I've seen Crosby, Stills and Nash in concert!

The Book Thief

I am sort of a book freak. I am always reading something. Most recently, in fact as of about one hour ago, I was reading one of the most amazing books. If someone were to ask me what my favorite book is I wouldn't be able to pick. I've read so many wonderful books, and they were all my favorite as I was reading them and most immediately after reading them. Then I start another. I have most definitely read books that were not my favorites...you win some, you lose some.

Partly because of the title of this book, I was drawn to it. My co-worker was reading it for her book club and she knew I'd love it too. We have a similar taste in books, which benefits us both, we have lending libraries out of each others bookshelves. It is a great thing!

I have discovered that reading is more difficult for me in the summer months because I'd rather be outside doing things, hiking, traveling, being busy. So when Donna loaned me The Book Thief I warned her that I couldn't promise a return time. She doesn't mind. I've had books she loaned me a year ago that I have yet to crack.

Anywho, I started reading it one evening at a concert in the park. At first I thought, "I have no idea if I will enjoy this." The book is written from the perspective of death, and it sort of jumps around a bit. I was in only four pages when I knew I'd love it. Marjus Zusak is the author and he has an extraordinary way with words. There are lots of quotes I could have taken from this book, but that would have meant putting it down long enough to write them out. I will share my first favorite from the book:

***A SMALL THEORY***

People observe the colors of the day only at its beginnings and ends, but to me it's quite clear that a day merges through a multitude of shades and intonations, with each passing moment. A single hour can consist of thousands of different colors. Waxy yellows, cloud-spat blues. Murky darknesses. In my line of work, I make it a point to notice them.

I highly recommend this book to anyone who likes history and is in for a captivating read!

"Blue and yellow"

I should have known that I would enjoy the Ukrainian Festival when I saw the colors of the country flag. Blue and yellow. My favorite colors.

I had never known that there was a Ukrainian Orthodox Church in Portland, now I do. There had been a posting in my mailroom for a Ukrainian Fall Festival. I thought it would be nice to go and add it to my "festival repertoire" for the year. While I was at the festival I heard this choir sing:

Serpanok Choir from Seattle

I saw these kids dancing!

Barvinok Dance Group

And, I saw beautiful artwork, including embroidery, wood carvings and these beautiful eggs.

More dancers:

They also had food, what is a festival without food? I treated myself to some cabbage rolls that were oh, so yummy!

8 years later...

They always said they remembered the exact place they were at and what they were doing when they heard the news of an event, JFK and MLK's assassinations, the dropping of the A-bomb and the bombing of Pearl Harbor, a good event with the landing of man on the moon...I never thought that would be the case with me, even if it was a life changing, society changing event. You never know how things will end up or turn out, because I was so wrong.

September 11, 2001, it changed our world, and I was in bed. It was my freshman year of college, I was away from home for the first time, and my roommate had an early class. I normally slept until she had showered, had gotten ready for the day and headed out the door. She was always courteously quiet, except that Tuesday morning. Those were the mornings she had an early class...Tuesdays. She came out of the bathroom and made a somewhat hurried and loud announcement, "Meghan and Rosa have the t.v. on." "And you are telling me this why?" I thought...She answered my question before I vocalized it..."something must be wrong."

Sure enough, the hurried and disorganized way that I woke up that day was indicitave of how the rest of the day would proceed. Though it didn't feel so hurried, it felt like things were in slow motion, but most definitely disorganized. We watched the reports of the Twin Towers smouldering and it felt unreal. She had a friend that was flying back east that same morning...the phone calls began. The information was so spotty, scattered, and incomplete. Where had the planes come from? Where had they been destined for? Why is this happening? Is it just a dream or a War of the Worlds event? Who would do this?

Sadly, as the day wore on the realization hit. Our world, our society, our lives, they had been changed that morning. With four of the worlds thousands of planes, our way of life had been rocked. I went to class, I think. All I recall from that day is dazed looks, speechless people, and a small college campus 3000 miles away in shock. There were televisions on everywhere, all of the channels repeating the horrifying moments of the planes impacts into the buildings. More reports of a plane hitting the Pentagon, another crashing in Pennsylvania. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening.

Sometime midday I couldn't do it anymore, I was glued to the t.v. but couldn't continue watching it. It took me minutes to turn it off. Why do we always gravitate toward disaster, tragedy? I needed something besides screaming people, burning buildings, people jumping out of those buildings, planes crashing as fireballs inside places they shouldn't be. Towers collapsed that day. Hearts collapsed that day. By nightfall we were bombing someone, doing the same thing to another country and its people that had been done to us, mere hours before. I tried to keep the coverage turned off, I feared that I would see these images in my sleep.

I don't remember my sleep that night. There are few things I remember from that dreadful day, and the days that followed. And the things I recall are the oddest things...trying to call home and hearing, "all circuts are busy, please try again later." I only heard that once and the busy signal lots, but I remember thinking that all circuts should not be busy, people were trying to reach loved ones. I remember when I finally dialed my grandparents number and it rang. My grandmother answered the phone and couldn't talk, my grandfather had had a bloody nose. When he had a bloody nose, it was a big deal, I knew, I'd been there to clean up after one. I remember hanging up the phone and visualizing the mess, sort of glad I wasn't there, but also wishing I was near those I loved and those who loved me. Plus, then I'd have something else to focus on.

I remember how quiet campus was, you see, the summer before I started college the airport had built and started using a new runway. This caused planes to fly in low, right over my campus and when a plane was above, you couldn't hear anything, not even yourself thinking, or talking. It was eerily quiet. I remember what seemed like weeks later when US airspace was reopened for commercial flights and the noise that came along with that. It seemed to shatter the calm that the country, or at least our campus had sunk into. I remember that my dad and I had planned that I would fly home at Thanksgiving to surprise my mom and I still bought a plane ticket, even before planes were flying again.

I remember going with my roommate to the gas station that night. Threats of the unknown were everywhere and no one knew what to do. Were the next targets gas stations, man made bombs that were strategically placed all over cities? We waited in line at the gas station, the next day gas prices went up almost a whole dollar, a big jump just overnight. Would they go up more? On the way to the gas station there were people spilling out of churches, candles lit, people seeking comfort, solace, questioning where we were headed and praying for all those involved.

I remember later, after all the fires had been extinguished and the body searching began. Every day there were new numbers, more speculations, more bombing in other parts of the world, and sadness in mine. I remember my body tensing as I passed armed, guns at the ready, guardsmen walking within feet of me at the SLC airport when I did fly home in November. This was not natural, this wasn't comfortable. We would probably never return to that.

Much later, 3 years and a couple months, I remember my first and so far only experience with Ground Zero in person. Holly and I were visiting Mary for Thanksgiving. She was at school at Concordia-Bronxville, just north of the city. Neither of us had ever been to NYC, and we couldn't make a trip to the city and not see the site. Thanksgiving day would be the day. How fitting? A time to reflect and be thankful. Thankful that we had lived to see this day. Thankful that more weren't killed. Thankful.

We were at Times Square for the parade and afterwards headed toward the site. It had been a beautiful sunny morning, one of those crisp, clear, fall mornings that I love. As people were mass exiting the parade area, we were going in the opposite direction. We made our way to the subway and headed underground. When we neared our stop a quiet had overtaken us. We started up the stairs and as we emerged we found ourselves in another world. The sun was no longer out and had been replaced with sharp, icy, dagger-like rain drops. It was pouring, absolutely pouring. Even more fitting for the somber experience.

We made our way to the site. I still, to this day can't fathom those two buildings being there. It felt like such a small, but vastly large space. I tried to envision the tops, or where they would be if the buildings were still in one piece. How high would they have reached up into the sky? I couldn't picture it. I can't picture it. How would I feel about this place if I had seen the buildings intact?

There were barracades placed all around the area, made it difficult to see some of the space. By this time all the debris had been cleared and there was this vast, dreary pit. There was building going on, trying to start over, not forget, but also not be reminded in this way. The plans were to build a "Freedom Tower" dedicated to the memory of all those who had lost their lives and as a symbol of where we were headed. It appeared to be a grand plan. Since that time the building has been renamed, and plans altered several times. I don't know what the finished product, that will be known as "One Trade Center", will look like. My dream and hope is to see it in its completeness, to never forget those who died.

There were momentos placed all over, flags that had been signed by rescuers from that day and the weeks and months following, people being quiet and reflective, people weeping, hugging, pelting rain and a quiet like no other that I have ever heard.

We didn't talk much during our time at the site, it was seemingly sacred ground. A place of such loss, a place of such hope, a place that had changed our world. And I remembered exactly where I had been, and what I had been doing when I heard the news.

Ice sculpture by Darlene Racicot, Ontario Canada.

Destination: Timberline Lodge

Mt. Hood photo taken by a college prof of mine, S. Polozov. Loved it!

In the mythic tradition, the Mountain is the bond between Earth and Sky. Its solitary summit reaches the sphere of eternity, and its base spreads out in manifold foothills into the world of mortals. It is the way by which man can raise himself to the divine and by which the divine can reveal itself to man.

~Rene Daumal

One aspect of my job that I enjoy is the outings. Don't get me wrong, they are at times difficult to coordinate and for that matter, implement. You'd think, "oh, let's take this group of 5-10 people to a museum, garden, resturant, no problem." Usually that is not the case...first you've got to figure out where to go, take into account weather, timing, participants that are appropriate for the outing. Then comes asking them all and answering their questions, assuring them it will be fine, then at times mapping out the order that they need to be picked up in, call caregivers, and the list goes on. That is all in advance, not even day of prep (which is a whole other story). The prep work for them tends to be the greatest hassle, but once I am on the bus and on the way, all is good!

Today, I took a group to Mt. Hood, specifically, Timberline Lodge. I had never experienced this place. I've many times looked up to the mountain from the city and am just in complete awe of such an amazing, beautiful beyond words, fixture in this city. I have gotten close to the mountain, heard stories and seen stories of people getting lost in the wild of the mountain, but I needed to see this untamed wilderness for myself.

I also knew that many of my participants may not have had this experience (found out on the bus that of the 12 of us on the bus, only 3 of us had never been that close--I tried!). So up the mountain we went. This was our destination:

Timberline Lodge. The photographer is unknown, but I swear this picture was taken today. The clue: the car parked in the center of the picture, facing out, closest to the building on the right side...it was in the same place today...weird!

History lesson (courtesy of the ever trusted Wikipedia): "The lodge was constructed between 1936 and 1938 as a Works Progress Administration (WPA) project during the Great Depression. Workers used large timbers and local stone, and placed intricately carved decorative elements throughout the building.

President Franklin D. Roosevelt dedicated the Lodge on September 28, 1937. (side note: if we'd waited 20 days we would have been at the site on the 72nd anniversary of the dedication).

The dedication ceremony was five months before completion of the lodge interior February 1938, when it opened to the public. It took extra expense and effort to make the lodge appear presentable for the dedication.

Lifestyles Northwest published a story about the history of Timberline Lodge in its February 2005 issue, based heavily on interviews with the family who have operated the lodge for fifty years. The story noted that in the lodge's early years, it had had four different operators, none of which was willing or able to maintain it. By 1955 Timberline Lodge was closed and in disrepair.
Richard Kohnstamm, the patriarch of the family that currently operates it, remembered those difficulties as being due to financing problems arising from the fact that the government owned it. Kohnstamm decided to maintain the place as if he owned it himself; he lost money during his first five years of operation, but his timing turned out to be fortuitous, since he began operating it only a few years before skiing started exploding in popularity in the late 1950s. That popularity helped the family generate a profit starting in 1960. Kohnstamm, "The man who saved Timberline", died at the age of 80 on April 21, 2006. Richard's son Jeff is now the Area Operator of Timberline Lodge.

The 1980 movie The Shining, used aerial shots of Timberline as part of its opening scene. Film of the exterior of the Timberline Lodge is also used for some establishing shots of the fictional Overlook Hotel throughout the movie."

Good history lesson, right? On to pictures:

If there is an emergency, please put on your oxygen mask before helping your neighbor... Let's not have an emergency on the outing, but we'll plan for it anyway! Also, enjoy the trees at Mt. Hood's timberline.
The view from the bus. You can faintly see Mt. Jefferson between the rear view mirror and the tree closest to center.

The peak in all of its glory. It had snowed over the weekend, so there was a nice dusting.

True majesty.


I have ambitions to climb here. Not to the top, but to the snow line. Maybe if I get on it I can do it before snow again this year...maybe next year...

ElderPlace bus with the mountain in the background.

I know you all want to go an the next outing with me and my folks, right? I knew it! We do welcome visitors.

Reflections on a productive, yet unpleasant weekend.

So, my long weekend is almost done. The time is dwindeling, quickly. Can I have the time back? Nope. I have had a combination of a good and not so good weekend. I was blessed with dear friend who visited from what seems like so far away, not really, but because of schedules, one hour seems like an eternity. I am blessed to have a dear cat who dealt with me as I combed her, bathed her in vinegar and dawn dishsoap (two times) and still curled up on my lap. I am blessed to remember that there are so many good things going on in the world, amid the bad, as I picked up a friend from the airport who had just come from a wedding. I am blessed to have an extra day this weekend so that when I returned from the airport run, with the previous day and a half consumed with fighting a battle in my own apartment, I could indeed curl up on my couch, with a hopefully flea free cat snuggling with me while I read the most amazing book, The Book Theif and drank my morning cup of tea. Highly recommended, both the tea and the book, and for that matter, curling up on the couch with a purring cat. This had been my intention for two of my three mornings...glad it worked out for one!

I am thankful for friends that let me reschedule a gathering so that I could deal with aforementioned fleas and even graciously giving me suggestions and recommendations based on real, previous experiences for her. I'm thankful for a very clean apartment. Every piece of furniture has been moved and vacuumed under/behind. Along with mopped hard surface floors, etc. Now I just need to put everything away. :) I am thankful for hot, running water, which leads to hot showers, and sunshine through the clouds, a cat chasing a clear bottle cap...looks like she is chasing nothing! I am blessed with a friend that made me dinner (I did do some of the chopping) when she is one week from becoming a new mother. And she doesn't even look like some of those pregnant women that are truly miserable in the couple of weeks before they are due.

I am thankful that when I went to get gas tonight on my way home I had gotten 32 mpg's! Go car! I am so thankful that when my weekend ends, as they all inevitably do, and I do go back to work tomorrow I have an outing to Timberline Lodge. A place I have never been and am super excited about going too! And of course sharing the experience with my participants, some of them have never been either! Let's get to it!!

Flea update status post 6 hours and counting...

I'd like to say that I have never seen anything as disgusting as what I saw this evening, but I'd probably be lying. I try not to lie. So, it was about 6:15ish this evening that I discovered the dreaded fleas...and the 3 I hinted at in my previous post, those were just the tip of the iceberg. An iceberg that I discovered during a 3 hour battle in my bathroom, was VERY large.

After putting the Advantage on Ezme I decided to head out to the store to get a flea comb. I knew that even with the Advantage it would take some time and she was suffering, I am sure. Also considered buying the bombs to bug bomb my apartment, but that would require Ezme and I both to leave for 2-4 hours total...hard to do on a rainy weekend. If they reappear I will bomb. Trust me. After I returned home I think Ezme knew something was going to happen. She tried to bolt out my front door, which she has never done. I cornered her and confined her to the bathroom. I needed a bowl of soapy water and my special comb.

I went into the bathroom, weapons in hand. I started combing her. I should pause here and say that there are several things in the previous hours that I have to thank God for. I will point those thankful things out as we go. First thing, I thank God that Ezme LOVES to be combed, hates brushes, loves combs and that was to my advantage tonight. She sat for a bit and allowed me to comb her, it wasn't until I got to her face, belly and legs that she fought me. Thing two that I thank God for: Ezme knows when I mean business. We've done enough medication giving, nail trimming, etc. that she knows my stern voice. Yes Marta, I do have it in me.

So once I had gotten situated and started combing I swear that I upset all those little bugs, because they waged battle against Ezme and I. They had all been fairly dormant in my previous blog, this time, oh no, they came out in full force. I finally know what people mean when they say that they can see them jumping and scurrying. Thank God thing three: I don't get to easily grossed out and can maintain my calm. I think if I couldn't do that, tonight would have been much worse. After at least 2 hours of combing and at least 100 fleas, I had finally worn myself and Ezme out enough that she was panting. I'd never seen a cat pant with its tongue hanging out, that is, until tonight. Poor girl. I decided to give both of us a break, but she was still confined to the bathroom.

I on the other hand, headed for the trusty computer to see if I could find any remedies that were "natural" and any more immediate than the Advantage. Thank God thing four: I can pick up wireless, and there is a wealth of information at my fingertips.

Did you know, Apple Cider Vinegar has multiple uses? Well, apparently it is my new miracle liguid, gold in a bottle (I hope). I did a search for herbal flea baths and a website came up for it, but then there were lots of comments about using ACV, which I couldn't figure out. Then I did. To the kitchen cupboards I went and indeed I had ACV. Let's try it. The website had also said Dawn dishsoap, another miracle item in my mind, for other reasons, which was setting next to my sink was a flea killer.

Again, I entered the bathroom with more weapons in hand. I had diluted the ACV with water and stuck Ezme into the bathtub and poured it all over her. Next up rinsing, then sudsing with the Dawn. I just knew she'd fight me. Thank God thing five, I just trimmed her nails a couple days ago so they weren't the sharp daggers that they could have been. Amazingly, she was calm. I think once the liquid was hitting her and then I was massaging the soap into her she had some relief. It took forever to get all the suds out of her and she just sat there. I liken it to taking an oatmeal bath if you have chickenpox. I never did do that, but hear it works. Thank God thing six: that she was mellow during the bathtime event. She was such a trooper.

I had gotten some towels out and ready. When I got myself out of the bathtub she continued to just sit. I wrapped her up and cuddled with her, told her how good she was and we just sat for a few minutes. I released her from the prison we'd both been in. I immediately started collecting any fabric things that she had been laying on and started laundry. What couldn't fit in went outside. Thank God thing seven: I have a washer and dryer in my apartment. I'd love to vacuum, it says on all the websites that vacuuming is one of the best things to do, but I know my neighbor down below probably already hates me enough for the night. Tomorrow. First thing. Right at this exact moment I am thanking God for my numbers eight, nine and ten that have occurred in the last 6 or so hours (there are probably more that I can't think of at 12:15am). Eight: that I have been able to watch Ezme for the last 2 hours since release from bathroom doom and she hasn't been bothered once by one of those pesky, nasty bugs. She has been grooming, but it is completely related to the fact that she was soaked. Nine: that she is now curled up on my lap trying to dry out and stay warm and her little motor is just purring away. Ten: Really, thank God wet cats don't smell as bad as wet dogs. Sweet release, and here is to maintained normallcy in the bug department in our abode. Load 2 just got done. Can we got to bed yet?

Ezme post ACV and Dawn bath.

I'm including the post 24 hour discovery info in this same post since I hadn't published it yet. So, I slept well, not as well as I would have liked, but Ez also crashed last night. Right next to me. She was bothered, and let me know about it, each time I got up. When I finally awoke today (Sunday) I decided to start more laundry and to call Holly, who had a flea fiasco earlier in the summer. She made her recommendation for a bug bomber. You see, in the middle of the night I decided I WOULD NOT deal with these critters again this summer and the guaranteed way was to bomb my apartment. I wouldn't mind a real bomb at the moment. In order to successfully bug bomb, or "fog" my apartment I must purchase said "fogger" and get Ezme into my car, with something to entertain myself also. I first vacuumed everything...couldn't hurt could it? Then I packed us up. I set the room up for fogging and went about following the directions. I started the fogger once Ez was in the car. I closed my door, locked it and said a prayer. Please let this be the solution. I decided we'd go for a little drive. First, I was going to set the alarm on my phone so I would know exactly when we could return. 2 hours later right? Maybe? I don't know. And the box is in the apartment being fogged. Well, shoot. I guessed on 2 hours as that is what another product had called for. Off we went for our ride/Stephanie's reading time. Ezme curled up in the passanger seat and napped, watched what was going by, etc. See photo below:

We drove through rainstorms, sunshine, leaves starting to change color, stopped to get ice cream from Dairy Queen and then I parked to read. Shortly the alarm went off. We headed home. Only 30 minutes to go to let it air out, once we arrived. I left Ezme in the car and headed in. I started opening things, turning on fans, etc. Then I read the box. 4 hours, another shoot. Well, 2.5, which is what it ended up being had to be better than nothing right? I hope. We will see. If not, I have another bottle of fogger. It was time for another Apple Cider Vinegar/Dawn bath to make sure. Well, to try to make sure. And then I went to work vacuuming everything again. Moving furniture and all. Ezme is now sitting on my bed trying to dry off, I am sitting at the computer ready to be done with what is now laundry load 5 and this whole flea business. Anyone want to trade places? Oh yea, thank God thing eleven (I think) : I still have another day off this weekend! Good thing! :)

A flea by any other name...

...is still a bug that bites Ezme, and makes me want to kill something (mainly it and all that is associated with it.)

Yes, my dear Ezme has fleas...3 down, quite literally, down the drain, and who knows how many more to go.

Ezme has been grooming herself a lot lately, and I have been really questioning it. I know she has dry skin, so my thoughts went immediately to that and I sprayed her with a lotion/water mixture that the vet had recommended. That hadn't remedied the situation. Then about a week and a half ago I started noticing all these little black spots where ever she would settle. I consulted several people that I know that have cats, as there are still a few new experiences for me, being a first time cat owner and all. Most attributed it to dry skin, changing weather, etc, etc. NOT the case, as I found out today.

Danielle came up from Salem to hang out, it had been too long. Anyway, I was telling her my story and she asked about fleas. I had indeed thought about that a week ago and had checked her over thoroughly (Ezme, not Danielle). Nothing. Not one little bug. And these eggs, larvae, jumping insects everyone talks about must have been making a battle plan below the surface. After Danielle departed to head home today I started checking again. Mind you, I hadn't seen a single bug that fit a flea description anywhere. And then my finger found it. A perpetrator. A little brown bug (having nothing to do with a little brown jug). It fit the description perfectly. Damn. She has fleas. Well, what to do, what to do. My first thought was to find as many as I could and kill them and I did just that. Then I was ready to head out to find chemical back-up. As I put my shoes on I remembered that Ezme's dear Auntie Marta had outfitted us with lots of "kitty stuff" when we first found each other. I headed for that basket and hallelujah, there was the Advantage flea treatment. I read the instructions and went to work. Pretty easy I must say and I am now crossing my fingers that after washing everything and medicating that my dear one will be flea free. Keep your fingers crossed too...it couldn't hurt.

Nasty little thing isn't it? Die flea, die!

Deep Fried Goodness?...I think not.

Yea, pretty much decided when I saw this on the news that is was most definitely disgusting. Enjoy the following article courtesy of MSNBC Food & Wine Articles:

Move over, Twinkies: Deep-fried butter is here

Inventor of fried Coke and fried cookie dough is ‘back with a vengeance’

State Fair of Texas
Abel Gonzales Jr. says his deep-fried butter invention tastes like “a mix between a biscuit or a croissant that is just stuffed to the gills with butter on the inside.”

By Laura T. Coffey
TODAYShow.com contributor

Who among us hasn’t simultaneously marveled and shuddered over accounts of deep-fried Twinkies? Deep-fried Oreos? Deep-fried bacon?
Well, brace yourself, because a new deep-fried item has been invented that’s so bold, so audacious, so brazen, it’s bound to take your breath away. The invention is none other than:
Deep-fried butter.
That’s right. This artery-clogging, heart-stopping dish is among eight new deep-fried concoctions that will be unveiled to the public at the State Fair of Texas in Dallas later this month. Each year, fair concessionaires try to outdo themselves by dreaming up recipes that could send you racing to your cardiologist if they became regular staples of your diet. The friendly competition has become so intense that fair officials have dubbed the fairgrounds the “Fried Food Capital of Texas.”
This year’s fried butter entry is the brainchild of 39-year-old Dallas resident Abel Gonzales Jr., winner of past state fair competitions for his Texas Fried Cookie Dough, Fried Peanut Butter, Jelly and Banana Sandwich and Fried Coke recipes.
(That’s right. Fried Coke.)
To make fried butter, the butter itself needs to have an outer coating, or shell, if you will — something that can withstand the bubbling cauldron of the deep fryer.
“I mean, butter by itself does not taste good,” Gonzales said. “Nobody just grabs a stick of butter and eats it. That would be gross.”
So here’s what Gonzales does: He takes 100 percent pure butter, whips it until it is light and fluffy, freezes it, then surrounds it with dough. The butter-laden dough balls are then dropped into the deep fryer.
For purists who just want the unadulterated taste of butter, Gonzales serves up plain-butter versions of his creation. For others who want a little more pizzazz, he offers three additional versions with flavored butters: garlic, grape or cherry.
“When you taste it, it really does taste like a hot roll with butter,” said Sue Gooding, spokeswoman for the State Fair of Texas. “It tastes great.”
“It’s like a mix between a biscuit or a croissant that is just stuffed to the gills with butter on the inside,” Gonzales said. “I think that’s the best way to describe it.”
An order of fried butter will get you three or four pieces of piping-hot dough in a little cardboard boat.
“Any more than that and I think it would be a little bit too much,” Gonzales said. “A little bit too rich.”
Pork chips and pecan piesOther deep-fried creations to be showcased at this year’s state fair include:
Green Goblins: Cherry peppers stuffed with spicy shredded chicken and guacamole, battered, deep-fried and topped with queso.
Twisted Yam on a Stick: A spiral-cut sweet potato, fried on a skewer, then rolled in butter and dusted with cinnamon and sugar.
Fernie’s Deep Fried Peaches & Cream: Served with a side of vanilla buttercream icing for dipping.
Texas Fried Pecan Pie: A mini-pecan pie battered, deep fried and served with caramel sauce, whipping cream and chopped candied pecans.
Country Fried Pork Chips: Battered, thin-sliced pork loin deep fried and served with sides of ketchup or cream gravy.
Sweet Jalapeno Corn Dog Shrimp: Shrimp on a stick, coated with a sweet and spicy cornmeal batter, deep fried and served with a spicy glaze.
Fried Peanut Butter Cup Macaroon: A peanut butter cup wrapped inside a coconut macaroon, fried and then dusted with powdered sugar.
All eight creations will be judged in the categories of Best Taste and Most Creative. Winners will be announced on Labor Day.

The annual competition, now in its fifth year, has prompted concessionaires to push limits and become ever more imaginative and daring with their entries. Previous competitions saw the debut of deep-fried lattés, fried banana splits and chicken-fried bacon.
For his part, Gonzales has won three times in the past four years for his cookie-dough, Coke and PBJ-and-banana-sandwich inventions. He still remains a little astonished that he didn’t win anything for last year’s creation, something he called Fire and Ice. That complex dish involved deep-fried pineapple chunks topped with strawberries, strawberry sauce and — here’s the kicker — banana-flavored whipped cream flash-frozen in liquid nitrogen.
“Smoke would come out of your nose or mouth as you exhaled,” Gonzales said. “Kids really loved it. It was something to see.”
This year, Gonzales decided to get back to basics with a dish that doesn’t pussyfoot around.
“Fried butter, I think, is his effort to come back with a vengeance,” Gooding said.
‘Special foods for a special time’So what’s with this annual celebration of all things deep fried and deeply unhealthy? Should the Food and Drug Administration step in and ban the event?
No, said Jennifer Pereira, a registered dietitian in nearby Arlington, Texas. A firm believer in the “no bad foods” approach to dieting and healthy eating, Pereira said it isn’t such a bad thing for people to splurge occasionally on foods they truly enjoy.
“The state fair is only once a year,” Pereira said. “I would strongly encourage people not to binge. Don’t build up your hunger so you can eat everything in sight. Pick a couple of things that you really enjoy, savor them, and stop eating when you feel satisfied.”
Pereira pointed out that all foods contain some nutrition — even Gonzales’ fried butter dish.
“Fried butter has fats, and you need some fats,” she said. “The dough would have some carbohydrates. ...
“In my practice, once I get people to legalize all foods, it’s amazing how food loses its grip.”

Gonzales knows his deep-fried inventions aren’t healthy — but he also knows that they’re fun. “These are special foods for a special time,” he said. “The fair is the one time of year when grown-ups can be kids again. ...
“There are a lot of people out there that don’t get the fun in what I’m doing. I’ve gotten e-mails from people saying, ‘You’re a menace!’ But you know, if you’re really health-conscious, there’s always other alternatives. You don’t have to have it. ... And I tell people this is not healthy food. Be careful with it. Take it in moderation. Definitely get your exercise. Eat a salad.”
Frying for a livingFor Gonzales, being such a successful concessionaire at such a huge state fair for the past seven years has paved the way to a measure of financial freedom — so much so that he recently quit his day job of 14 years as a computer analyst.
“It’s funny, because being at the state fair is the total opposite of being a computer analyst,” he said. “I finally kind of figured out that I was in the wrong field. ... I’ve been really lucky — really, really lucky. I can just do this for the three weeks out of the year and that’s pretty much it.”
His fair creations tend to be highly labor-intensive, and every year his entire family — parents, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces and nephews — helps him throughout the hyper-busy fair madness in late September and October.
“It’s like a little family reunion,” Gonzales said. “We all bond during the fair.”
Once the fair ends and the madness dies down, Gonzales chills out and spends plenty of quality time with his German shepherd, Scout.
“Mainly I just take it easy the rest of the year and think of new things to fry.”

******Are your arteries all clogged up just reading this? Mine are!*******

I love Donald Miller...

...yes I do! I even met him two times, and one of his books that I own is signed by the man himself.

Don Miller is a local author who has written popular reads such as Blue Like Jazz, Through Painted Deserts, and Searching for God Knows What. He is an enthralling author for many. When I went to one of his readings/book signings I was wowed by all of the individuals that he had reached through his writings. He was very personable and chatted with each person that approached him for a signature. I had gotten a copy of the book for a friend who had just moved to NYC and was having him sign her copy also. I remember that he was impressed I was going to read two copies of the same book, until I burst his bubble. He was very happy to hear that I was sharing the love. Jyndia was SO elated to get the signed copy...

Anywho, on to the reason for this post: Not only do I love Don Miller, I REALLY LOVE autumn, fall, leaf changing time, season between summer and winter, whatever you may call this glorious time of year, I love it. I don't know the exact reason I love it, but a few supporting reasons include: the colors-love the brilliant oranges, reds, yellows-and here in Oregon I get to experience the colors for a longer period of time. I love the crisp biting morning air, the smell of smoke from fireplaces that are being used again to warm the inhabitants of their respective homes. Even love decorating for it! I get this little burst of energy (usually on my way home from work), come home, clear out the storage unit to get to the decorations and get a little over excited about the prospect of donning my fall leaf garland, pumpkins, corn cobs, etc. I love the fall festivals, pumpkins, apple cider, you name it, if it involves fall I probably love it.

My love for fall brings me to Mr. Miller: In the Author's Note of Through Painted Deserts there is a passage I read and re-read every autumn here in Portland:

"It is fall here now, my favorite of the four seasons. We get all four here, and they come at us under the doors, in through the windows. One morning you wake and need blankets; you take the fan out of the window to see clouds that mist out by midmorning, only to reveal a naked blue coolness like God yawning.

September is perfect Oregon. The blocks line up like postcards and the rosebuds bloom into themselves like children at bedtime. And in Portland we are proud of our roses; year after year, we are proud of them. When they are done, we sit in the parks and read stories into the air, whispering the gardens to sleep."

There is much more to the Author's Note, and I wish I could regurgitate it all here now, but will close with this segment:

"It frightened me to think of it, that I passed up an early marriage or children to write these silly books, that I bought the lie that the academic life had to be separate from relational experience, as though God only wanted us to learn cognitive ideas, as if the heart of a man were only created to resonate with movies. No, life cannot be understood flat on a page. It has to be lived; a person has to get out of his head, has to fall in love, has to memorize poems, has to jump off bridges into rivers, has to stand in an empty desert and whisper sonnets under his breath."



I as I read these segments and the rest of the note, I can't help but be reflective on my summer, as we transition into fall. I vowed early on that I was going to have as many experiences this summer as I could. New and repeated. I was going to live life. I feel like I have succeeded! And still have more to go...festivals, events, time with friends and just plain fun things that are planned for the remaining days before the rain arrives and I am no longer go able to spend hours of my days outside hiking, strolling around downtown, and just enjoying life. There are first time experiences that I've had that will be repeated, and first time experiences that will be one time experiences and I love that I am able to say I experienced so much. Granted there were things that were neglected, well, really only one thing that I can think of at the moment--housework. I figure that there will be many a rainy day that I can vacuum, dust, put those shoes away (wait they are already put away--and I've kept that area up!).



I know that I will be sad as the rains begin, and will look back on the pictures and memories from this summer often. I also know that soon enough the seasons will change and we will be back where we were a few short months ago and I can do it all over again, and then some. Until then, I am hoping that I don't wish my life away too much like so many of us when we are busy and life seems to be too much. May I slow down and continue to appreciate the little things in life in a different way than I have been the past several weeks. May I catch-up on dusting those shelves that I've been avoiding, have more quiet, "ease into my day with my morning cup of tea" kind of days, and get good and rested so I can hit the ground running in my next go-round. May I be thankful for the life I live, the opportunities I have and the warmth of all the friendships that I experience. I wish the same and more for you all also! Blessings.