Acrtic Blast 2008

After over a week of wild and crazy, history-making weather in these parts, it is now a necessity to stay home, holed up.

When stuck indoors for any length of time, most folks get cabin fever. Not me!! I revel, delighted to know I don't have to be or go anywhere.

Instead, I can use this time to create.

It's like a free pass, unemcubered by routine, to just be creative. Sure, pesky things like meals and laundry still need tending but overall, life as we know it, comes to a screeching halt!

And I couldn't be happier!

While Mother Nature and Old Man Winter continue to pelt us with more precipitaion, they are nudging us towards all that we procrastinate.

This mandatory down-time offers the perfect opportunity to delve into those closets and drawers waiting for "some day...".

That day has, officially, arrived!

Hhhmmm, organize or create?

Not a tough choice pour moi!

E-Z

Oh, email! How do I love thee? Let me count the ways!

Actually, there's only one: instant connectivity!

To communicate with others, including long lost friends, by the flick of a click is immeasurably satisfying for people [like me] who enjoy writing.

I'm not one to look up old classmates but once in a while, my Inbox will hold a surprise. It's precisely this unpredictability that lures me to check email often.

Finding someone from the past is a treat I never imagined possible beyond the telephone or hand-written letter. But now, in our modern age, connecting with Memory Lane is 1-2-3 E-Z, electronically.

It's especially handy for days like this when the weather is so frightful, being indoors is a given. Through the beauty and magic of email, I can transcend the freezing temperatures. I can even pretend it's summer.

Well, except for one problem: I'm wearing so many layers and still my nose is cold!

B-r-r-r, Baby! It's cold INSIDE, tooooooooo!

Tis the Season!

With temperatures hovering in the twenties, it's colder than it's been in years; worst of all, it's expected to stick around all week.

Just when we think we can exhale, forecasters are saying 'we ain't seen nothin' yet'. Huh?

Next weekend is supposed to bring a wintry mix of freezing rain with more snow and cold temperatures.

It's good to be reminded of what a real winter feels like. After all, this is what most of the country deals with every year.

No thanks!

From a very early age, I knew that I didn't want to spend the rest of my life scraping, shovelling and defrosting my car and self for months on end. There had to be a better way.

There is. I found my nirvana here in the usually-temperate Pacific Northwest where winter days generally reach 55 degrees.

But every once in a while, we are jolted back to reality with a severe cold snap as stark reminder of how lucky we are NOT to deal with this ongoingly.

Along with all I'm grateful for, I will add this to my list: a day to hunker down with my hunk who stayed home from work.

Weather like this can only be dealt with one way: preferably under the covers!

Holy Snow Globe!

If ever there was a day to take a "pass" on productivity, surely it's today!

As Ol' Man Winter bears down on us, there's nothing better to do than surrender. This is not like every other day!

Northern arctic air and gusting eastern winds have combined to create one of the nastiest blizzards these parts have seen in years.

I can't help thinking about my childhood winters in the Midwest...a hearty reminder that I wasn't cut out for frigid temperatures.

Knowing that to venture out means braving extreme elements only makes me want to do it while my greater instincts know better.

In fact, one of my favorite civic admonitions is "If you don't have to go out, don't".

OK, Okay! Glad to say I don't have to!

Such crazy mixed-up weather makes for a good day to stay in with a warm cup of anything...and a pass on productivity.

Death by Walmart

All he did was look for a job and now he's dead. Poor bastard!

A temp worker in Long Island, NY was trampled to death on Black Friday as early-bird customers literally smashed down the door--which buckled like an accordion--to get in for the best sales at their local discount retailer.

We'll all pass away someday but one way I never imagined possible in our uber-modern country: death by trampling of over-eager consumers.

Could there be a worse way to die?

Health is Wealth!

Today is Thanksgiving...a time to reflect on the past year; to be grateful for all our blessings.

Tops on my list is good health for without it, nothing else matters!

Next, a warm house and a loyal mate. Ditto, family. They may not live nearby, but through the magic of modern technology, it's much easier to feel closer than the miles between us.

I'm also grateful for our neighbors who have one eye on our house while we do the same for them. Though we keep to ourselves and enjoy our autonomy, everyone knows who's who. We'd be there for each other in an instant, if circumstances dictated the need.

Friends...where would we be without them? They love us in spite of our quirks and sometimes, G'bless 'em, because of them!

Work that feeds my soul, I'm grateful to do what I love, teach art.

Finally, peace, quietude....and Time, Sweet, Time to reflect on all those people and the things that matter most!

Oh, Boy!

I read the news today...about an unlucky couple who find themselves in a position that could happen to any of us, any day.

The husband had a stroke! After "the system" saved him it is now proceeding to milk them, quite literally, to death! They've sold their vehicle, put their house on the market and burned through most of their retirement savings, selling all their prized possessions, in order to pay their health care bills.

Gone is their quality of living. Gasp!

We are told "buy long-term disability insurance" for this exact purpose. At a time when so many people have NO health insurance, I've always just been grateful for what we do have.

However, if a person's lifestyle can vanish in an instant due to lack of sufficient coverage, it's enough to get my attention.

Hhhmmm, perhaps we ought to rethink that decisison.

When's the last time you served?

Jury Duty ...

What a trip!

Of course(!!) I got seated on panel today...not for a one- but seven-day trial! Guess you could say I got a temp job.

After taking public transportation, going through long lines and security, I got settled in the assembly room seated next to none other than our city's mayor. Uh-huh!! Tom Potter!

When I first joined his table--where only one other guy was sitting--I didn't acknowledge him (so as to respect his privacy). But once I finally addressed him, I said, "Now, alongside YOU, I'm honored to do jury service!!!!". He shot back his signature smile, approvingly.

The other guy finally asked, "How is it that the mayor can't get out of jury service?" to which he replied, "Since I'm always advocating for others to do their civic duty, it'd be pretty hypocritical if I didn't do it, too."

In the third round, after my name was called, I wished him a well-deserved, great retirement. Off I went...

The case I'm on? Big, Fat YAWNER! The 'voire dire' portion of the process was more interesting; one woman (actually!) said her hobbies are "bar-hopping and TV"; she (of course!) is my seat mate. Oy!

When, at 4:30PM, I whispered "only 30 more minutes!", she chimed in, "...and 6 days!!!!!!!!"

Oh, yeah, must remember: Civic Duty!

Who'll Be The Next In Line?

Bailouts? Whatever happened to boot straps?

The auto industry is next in line for a hand-out...but people are starting to question, "What will it entail?"

It makes no fiscal sense to go back to business as usual. A crisis of this magnitude calls for new attitudes and approaches. Everyone involved needs to change their ways and means.

This applies to all of us.

It doesn't take a degree in economics to understand the need to get back to ba$ics or to recognize that a house built on cards instead of cash will soon crash. That goes for the consuming of all goods.

So why should we bail out irresponsible industries?

I understand the ramifications of inaction--a devastating domino effect--but it sends the wrong message--that bad decisons might not necessarily be held accountable--and runs polar opposite to what we were taught about financial responsibility.

So where do we draw the line?

I may not have the answers but this much I know: we need to keep asking the questions.

$ame Boat

Two little words...which carry a huge burden:

Job Search!

For the unemployed masses--10 million Americans and counting--it can be an exhausting proposition especially in our current economic state.

It matters not, what line of work or area of study you're in, nobody's buying it...because everyone is in the same boat, just trying to keep heads above water.

So when it comes to looking for work, where to go? A creative person's options are limited, even with the benefit of paper credentials.

Nothing is guaranteed in today's job market!

The demise of stalwart businesses like investment banks, newspapers and other antiquities replaced by technology, shortens the playing field; a secure position no longer exists there.

Unless one is vested in a field that is under-staffed like nursing or geriatrics, the road to employment can be long and winding!

Educator? Get in line! Food service? Ditto!

As recent statistics cited, the average American will have 14 different jobs in their working lives.

In fact, those two words--secure position--may someday become an oxymoron.

Lucky are the retired for they can exhale...er, unless their savings just went "poof!".

If so, $ee you in line!

Trick or Treat?

Oh, Halloween! How do I love thee?

Not

at

all!

I've always considered adults who play dress up to be somewhat twisted. Or maybe they didn't get enough "make-believe" as children. Whatever the case may be, I also find that what a person chooses to dress up as is "very telling".

For example, when a woman is a witch I wonder, "Is she just living up to her true persona?"

As a French maid: Someone is trying, desperately, to be sexy and exotic. Why not just be that way in everyday life, sans the outfit?

Of course I understand parodies. This year I'm sure we'll see a lot of plumbers named Joe, Patio Men and Pigs wearing lipstick! Or, like the recent editorial cartoon depicted, a trick-or-treater dressed as an envelope being an "investment statement".

Now that's scary!

With All Due Respect

A friend and I were recently discussing (I can't remember what?!)...when, suddenly, I asked her:

"God. He? or She?"

Without missing a beat, she replied, "He" to which I replied, "Oh, really!? Has anyone ever proven that God has a penis?"

That may sound silly, maybe even twisted, but seriously, I ask you the same question.

I suspect the reason God has always been referred to as He is because of Jesus--the diety who walked on Earth as man. But does that prove God's gender?

We may pray "Our Father who art in Heaven" but prayers were created by man hence, a masculine affinity. I suppose, whenever referring to God, we need to assign gender.

As someone who grew up ascribing a male pronoun to God, it tickles me to hear others use a feminine reference, as in "Goddess bless you" after sneezing, for example.

Or the bumpersticker which proclaims, "In Goddess We Trust".

Has anyone proven otherwise? Do souls possess gender?

I highly doubt it!

Truth or Lies?

It's true. I'd read a statistic long ago that claimed "EVERYONE LIES".

"Huh?", I thought. I'd been raised to always tell the truth and so, I just did. It defined me: honest~at all times.

But after I heard that stat, it got me thinking, "Well, if everyone IS lying, why the hell am I always telling the truth?"

Thus began my downward spiral. First, it was fibs; then, white lies, then, outright lies.

I convinced myself that sometimes a half-truth is less harsh. After all, I'm saving the recipient from a painful reality, if, for example I fib about why I didn't show up at a social function.

Is it not kinder to say, "I fell ill" than to claim, "I just didn't feel like going"?

When it matters most, there's no option but to tell the truth. However, when it's a fine line between "nicety and necessity", so too, an obligation to honesty.

If I believe the statisticians, apparently everybody else already gets that.

N.L.E.E.

I may not be many things but one thing I know I am and always will be is

NOT LIKE EVERYONE ELSE!

I didn't follow the traditional path to college right out of high school. Frankly, I was sick and tired of reading assignments and writing a report on this, that and th' other thing...and I was quite sure that going to college meant at least four more years of doing just that!

Enough! I just wanted a break!

If I'd been smarter, I couldawouldashoulda, like many of my peers, taken off to see the world. Or at least to Europe with a rail pass and a list of hostels in my backpack.

Instead, I took two jobs and worked hard, setting my sights on the other coast. Eventually, I packed my car and travelled west to find my utopia. I did (Oregon) and the rest is, as they say, herstory.

But my life and work has never been "traditional" which I credit or blame on being an artist.

Some may say to be talented and gifted is a great blessing. Very true, but it also brings with it hard-to-define intangibles and harder to live with, financial in$ecurity.

I often wonder if I hadn't been born an artist, what kind of work would I do? It's not that I didn't want to go to college, I wanted to go on to art school which my very pragmatic parents wouldn't help me do. They wanted me to go to our local community college to get a liberal arts degree.

Huh? At the time, I didn't even know what that meant? Besides I had better things to do, like move out west!

I created the kind of life I'd hoped for with one tiny (read: HUGE) exception: financial security...but that comes with the territory...of being an artist living in Oregon.

Maybe a liberal arts degree would've been handy, after all.

Ch-Ch-Changes

We often hear that people can't or don't change: attitudes, habits, opinions. For the longest time, I agreed with this assessment...until both my mate and I went through great changes.

Fundamentally, I am still the same person--my likes and dislikes--but in the greater scheme of life, I'm not!

No longer do I care to entertain a cadre of friends or to sit and talk at length--with anyone. In fact, no matter where, I prefer silence.

No idle chatter, please! Or drama! Save it fo' yo' mama! Friends Forever? NOT!
Some were just too draining or needy. I simply outgrew them.

As one (former) friend used to say, "It's called pruning the dead wood".

Chop-chop!

Change comes to many of us in such subtle increments that it's difficult to see the seismic activity happening below the surface.

We tend to believe that all or any change sucks...but in reality, it can bring about the best outcomes even if, at the time, we can't see how or why.

For better or worse, change equals growth.

Save for a handful of loved ones, no longer do I care what other people think--the greatest gift for surviving all the ch-ch-changes!

No Fun

As a member of the human race, I have often wondered, "What's it all about, Alfie?"

Well, it only took a little over a half a century to figure out, but by cracky, I think I've got it:

One

Word.

Hormones!

That's right. "It" is all about hormones! Plain and simply, hormones rule our moods, our hunger, our libido, all our needs, wants, urges and desires.

There's a hormone to alert our hunger and another to suggest we are satiated; a hormone that surges when we're all fired up and another to signal a need for sleep.

One hormone dictates our internal clock and another wakes us up.

If I'd only known the answer, long ago, to this age-old question, I may have used intellect over impulse...and perhaps saved myself a lot of grief.

But I also would've missed a lot of fun.

So, the question begs, "Can we fight our hormones?"

Why yes, I believe that's called restraint...but then,

hhhmmm...

...that's no fun!

Sign of the Times

I saw a tee-shirt today that immediately brought a grimace to my face which I could not hold back. On an extra-large-sized, white man it read:

Christian
Conservative
Hetrosexual
Pro-Gun
American
Any Questions?


Ahhhhh, Yeah!!

Er, Noooooo!!!!

I didn't know what to think!!

It's one thing to be all those things.

But quite another, much bigger, weirder thing to advertise it.

I mean, To ADVERTISE IT across your big, beer gut!

That would be like me donning a shirt that read

Quirky
Pro-Choice
Liberal
American
Artist.
Any Questions?

I'd prefer to shorten it to just...

Artist.
Any Questions?

Usually, not.

Can You Top Thi$?

Recently, I read about a woman in Kansas who got tired of dealing with the ubiquitous tumbleweeds in her area. So, as a joke, she set up a website called prairie tumbleweed farm.

Who knew there was an actual need for the weeds??

She started getting orders from all over the country; someone was having a western-themed wedding; click. Other orders came from Hollywood where her tumbleweeds have graced countless TV shows, [click] print ads and department store displays.

Click, click!

But her proudest moment came from NASA whose researchers used her light-as-air plants as a model for the Mars Tumbleweed rover. Ca-ching, Ca-ching!

Talk about making lemonade outta lemons! Her annual income from tumbleweeds: $40K.

Now that's what I call resourceful!

Just Do It!

I know this may sound a tad callous...

(but then, haven't you come to expect this from me and aren't you just a little bit intrigued???)

With all due respect to people who live in the Gulf states & surrounding areas, including all the islands, 'Stop wondering why this (hurricanes) keeps "happening to us"...'

It reminds me of Sam Kinnison's famous joke:

"The reason why Ethiopians are dying of starvation is because "You live in a f%$#@in! desert!!!"

Duuuuh!

So, too, if one doesn't want to deal with hurricanes, move away from flood plains and historically hard-hit areas. Yes, there are other natural disasters to contend with all over the country, but with relative ease, one can state unequivocally, that hurricanes will happen again and again...and again.

Just as the crime, violence and racial tension of Detroit, MI--not to mention, extreme weather--caused me to relocate, so, too, people who are tired of their current living situation can simply change residence!

After all, this is America, where we are freeee to move about the country!

So, to those who need to heed: "Get your groove on...

and move on."

The Other "L" Word

I remember well the anticipation of relocating to Oregon was as exciting as the actual move. I loved that Oregon was like a well-kept secret, open only to insiders who "get it": that this is a very special place unlike other states.

How else to explain Oregon's trailblazing ways! Twas the first to require a bottle deposit; 300 miles of beaches, all open to the public; one of only two states with no sales tax; the only one with free health care for its poorest; medical marijuana; assisted-suicide and so on.

I had assumed the whole state of Oregon was progressive. After all, it had always been well-known for being liberal. This, I considered a good thing.

Then I moved here and learned differently; how wrong I was! Perhaps it was political naivete`. To believe that all of Oregon was as progressive as Portland couldn't have been further from the truth: that being, like most states, Oregon has many rural regions populated with staunchly-conservative, gun-toting rednecks.

I can't remember the exact moment I found out but I do remember being dumbfounded. Turns out, it's mostly metropolitan areas along the I-5 corridor that are, so-called, liberal.

The root word, 'liber'--and literal definition--means "free and broad-minded"~~two adjectives I proudly call myself. It's also why I love living where there's a cultural awareness of its true meaning.

Oregon may be just as conservative as other states but fortunately, when it comes to legislative acts, it is those who call themselves "open-minded" who usually prevail.

Make Do

Try as I might to imagine being raised by "artists", the concept escapes me. Instead, my parents were very conservative pragmatists. Having lived through the Great Depression, they were the original recyclers.

"Waste not, want not."

My mom taught me to "make do". That is, if I wanted something new that wasn't a necessity, she encouraged me to find a substitute. I resented "making do".

But all those years of going without produced the best outcome. Having $aved and $quirreled away as much as possible throughout their lives, my parents enjoyed a very comfortable retirement. Furthermore, their nest egg included a nice inheritance for each of their five children.

Fast forward to the Clinton years in office. Interest rates were so low and houses for sale so plentiful, that it seemed like the right time to gift us with the inheritance we'd eventually receive. My very pragmatic parents wanted to make sure their offspring had a place to call their own.

Mission accomplished!

Nowadays, when I look back at the silly things I wanted--but didn't get--as a kid (Can you say "Go-Go boots"?), I'm grateful for being raised by pragmatists instead of artists who may have indulged my every whim.

Years later while teaching, one of my [adult] students pointed out to me (after class) that having learned to "make do" throughout life probably contributed to my creativity and resourcefulness.

Hhhmmm, good point! And I thought I was teaching them!

Real Men Don't Look Like Ken

I guess it started with my shrines about Real Women (Don't Look Like Barbie). While searching for mini-Barbie dolls to include in them, I also found lots of other cute, little dolls.

Thus, began my affinity for collecting miniature dolls.

Kewpie, troll, Barbie; Check!

As a young girl, I used to amuse myself for hours playing with paper doll cut-outs (from McCall's magazine) and later, with 3-D dolls that I'd dress up with clothes my mom made from old, kitchen curtains.

Eventually, my dolls went the way of all toys that have lost their appeal and novelty. I moved on to board games, bicycles and then, Ah, boys!

From there, 'twas all downhill.

Fast-forward, today. Glad to say, my love for dolls has returned. I also retain a great fondness for my bike and One Boy in particular, my real-life doll!

What are YOU selling?

"To market, to market to buy a fat pig;
Home again, Home again; Jiggetty-Jig!"

From the dawn of time, one main thread that connects us to the Earth's earliest inhabitants is the exchange of goods.

The Market. Whatsoever one's material needs or wants can be found there.

For sales reps, it's a showroom; for artists, a gallery; for fishermen, it's a dock. Farmer's markets; flea markets; book fairs; we are surrounded by vendors, vending.

From the humblest open-air bazaars to the New York Stock Exchange, The Market is, in fact, what makes the world go round...

despite rumors to the contrary.

Connect the "D"ots

A very interesting report was on World News recently about the importance of Vitamin D.

We've been told over the years how vital all our vitamins are to our physical well-being but this report emphasized the particular importance of Vitamin D for our immune systems.

This got me thinking about my Dad's leukemia and how his immune system was compromised which further led me to remember how much dad hated milk--one of our greatest sources of Vitamin D.

Connection? I think yes!

Pass the milk, please!

Got Love?

I saw a sad, old man walking down the street the other day with no particular expediency. He got me thinking about my dad, which made me wonder if this man had any loved ones...or if he'd ever had one great love in his life.

That made me even sadder to think 'how many people go through life without ever knowing real love'...when someone cares about your well-being and considers your needs and wants ahead of their own.

It's easy to look at others and believe we all get what we need but the sad truth is, we don't. There are many people who go without not only bare essentials but the intangibles which don't show...like love.

To love and be loved in return is one of life's greatest riches.

Blessed are they who do!

Sigh!

It turns out, if all reports are true, the main enemy against all things age-related boils down to one little thing...or I should say, one humongous yellow orb. The Sun.

Oddly enough, a recent report also states that Oregon has a high percentage of melanoma, skin cancer.

Huh? Oregon is cloudy more often than sunny, so how can that be?

Many reasons were cited, one being lackadaisical use of sunscreen here; lots of pale skin going to sunnier climes, coupled with first reason.

But I was surprised one of the main contributors wasn't noted. Even though it's cloudier here, the harmful rays of the sun still penetrate clouds; hence, our skin. Therefore, it's an easy leap to assume Northwesterners don't take the use of sunscreen seriously enough.

I look back on my youthful days of sunbathing--slathered not with a screen but in baby oil to attract more sun--and just cringe. Where were all the experts and warnings back then? Probably there all along but in the din of rock 'n' roll I couldn't hear them nor would I have heeded their message.

As one (ahem!) matures, it becomes infinitely clearer why the saying goes, "Youth is wasted on the young."

sigh.

Personal Problem

Have you, like me, ever wondered about the differences in vegetarianism? If so, have a seat; class is in session. Herewith, a glossary to clarify.

Vegan: Similar to a vegetarian diet but excludes all animal products. That means no eggs, dairy, nothing with gelatin or animal rennet in it. Some people also choose not to eat honey.

Raw Food: In this diet, food cannot be heated above 115 degrees. Those who follow a raw food diet believe foods cooked above that temperature have lost vital nutrients and may be harmful.

Vegetarian: This diet excludes meat from any animal including poultry and fish.

Pescatarian: The same as a vegetarian diet but includes fish and shellfish.

Lacto-vegetarian: a vegetarian diet that includes dairy products but no eggs.

Ovo-vegetarian: a vegetarian diet that includes eggs but no dairy products.

Flexitarian: just as the name implies, this diet is flexible/mostly vegetarian but meat is eaten on occasion.

The last entry proves that vegetarianism is in the mouths of the beholders. It seems to me if one eats more than only vegetables, one would no longer be a vegetarian--OF ANY KIND--with or without a prefix disclaimer.

Furthermore, if I ever heard someone say, "I'm a lacto-vegetarian", I'd say it sounds like a personal problem, best kept to oneself...which is pretty much what I think about vegetarians.

Yawn!

Any Other Questions?

A fish outta water!
That would surely be me if I were still in Detroit, landlocked and living in an auto town. Not only do I drive a foreign model, my 1987 Honda Accord is festooned with various winged-things. In Portland, whenever people may give me a curious look or a chuckle, I simply say,

"I'm an artist. Any other questions?"

Nope. That always explains it.

Were I driving my "art car" in the Motor City, I can only imagine the looks I'd get alongside top-o'-the-line Escalades and tricked-out Hummers.

But by the time my license plate came into view, it would all make sense. As goes the former Oregon tourism slogan:

"Things Look Different Here"...

...and that's just the beginning!

Two

Last week I had the opportunity to show and sell my art in The Pearl for First Thursday. Twas a scathingly delightful summer evening with all the usual suspects...and quite a few new vendors since last time I showed there.

The success of this monthly outdoor event which coincides with gallery openings all over Northwest Portland, exceeds itself. It has morphed from a very humble art walk to the "see & be scene" that it is today.

What a difference a few years make!

My artist-neighbor was a very animated painter whose style attracted lots of lookers and quite a few buyers. One woman in particular who was in town visiting, stopped to chat. After living here for seven years, she went back to her native Spain.

Compared to her sunny clime, she definitely doesn't miss the rain, but she went on to say, there are two things about Portland she does miss very much.

I listened intently. I thought it would be Oregon's beauty, its people or its microbrews.

Nah, none of the above.

Imagine my surprise to hear the two things this Spaniard misses the most about Portland is 'First Thursday' and 'Last Thursday'--two very-decidedly Portland traditions.

"Yes!", I thought.

Portland doesn't need bumper stickers claiming a place among the weird. If anything, she is unique, quirky, maybe a little eccentric...after all, we eschew umbrellas in one of the rainiest corners of the world...

But weird?

Nah, we're just being our charming selves, making up the rules as we go, doing what suits us, living and letting live...

...like any good Oregonian would!

It's a good thing

It's just a word I made up but it says it all: A'rosa'therapy!

My roses smell so good and bring me so much pleasure that the combination of aromatherapy and roses seems like a natural!

Fourteen years ago, when I first moved in this home, I went about filling the perimeters of both front and back yards by planting lots of perennials and roses.

But not just any roses--only those with fragrance! Sweet, spicy, mossy, heady. All words used to describe roses--all of which I own.

When I put my rose garden together, I made sure I got a collection of different colors--with one sweet scent or another--knowing I'd cut and use them in floral arrangements

My roses are not just a thing of beauty; I take time to smell them, too...

...for what good is a sweet rose if a nose doesn't enjoy it?

Got Blueberries?

One cream to erase wrinkles; one to retain a dewy complexion. An elixir to undue the past, one to renew the future.

I ain't buying it!

No amount of advertising or marketing is going to convince me that there's a product or "magic bullet" able to undue the ravages of Father Time and Mother Nature's big yellow orb.

I don't believe topical ingredients like retinols and antioxidants are going to bring back youthful skin. Only by resorting to invasive procedures with needles or scalpels can one turn back time. But in doing so, one is only fooling oneself.

Not only do these so-called regenerating serums make unsubstantiated claims, most are very expen$ive! I prefer to get my antioxidants, naturally...

the old-fashioned way...

....by eating them.

Blueberries, anyone?

No Ifs, Ands or Butts

For a city that prides itself on being clean and 'green', Portland has a very real litter issue. On sidewalks, in public doorways and thrown from car windows, cigarette butts are everywhere!

Almost as bad as the smoke that comes out of them, these non-biodegradable eyesores threaten our city's reputation for livability.

'The world is a smoker's ashtray', so the saying goes...but that shouldn't apply to a place as progressive as ours. Most residents are too smart to litter; it's a small minority of smokers causing the majority of offenses.

Portland needs a public awareness campaign to raise the consciousness of those who litter, not only their butts, but gum and wrappers or any other superfluous packaging.

There are receptacles for that called 'garbage cans'.

As a kid, I remember many slogans were created to raise good citizens. One in particular stuck: 'Don't be a litter bug!'. This I learned not from the green streets of Portland, Oregon but from the mean streets of Detroit...Michigan!

We require dog walkers to pick up their pooch's doo-doo. Why not smokers, too?

All of Me

Such a dichotomy of contradictions, I am.

Introspective and outspoken.

Strong and vulnerable.

Smart and naive.

Those who know me well may not agree but then that only proves, they don't.

Perhaps it's because I am Aquarius, known for being unconventional, unorthodox and non-conformists. As a kid, I was greatly puzzled by these words whose meanings eluded me...especially unorthodox; this conjured up religious notions; an odd fit, for sure.

Years later it all made sense. I came to understand fully the true measure of those words...adjectives which, indeed, do describe

all

of

me!

Rock, Scissors, Paper

As one of the very few urbanites left on this planet without a cell phone, I can honestly say, I heart being unplugged and unavailable.

Of course, I can still be dialed-up the old fashioned way via land line--suits me just fine.

By not using a cell phone, I'm not only saving money, I may be doing myself a health favor, avoiding the very real risk of stimulating cancer cells.

Keys, glasses, water.

That's all I need when I walk out the door. At the rate I misplace my glasses, I really can't afford one more thing to keep track of or lose.

No Coincidence

OK, I'll admit: I am a big dreamer!

Not just a daydreamer but particularly, while I sleep. I usually can't remember many details but I try anyway. Never sure where I am or what I'm doing there, one thing is recurrent. I am traveling, solo.

What a perfect metaphor for life since we're all temporary visitors on this plane we call Earth. No one can walk in your shoes with your purpose or your gait.

We all walk alone.

Is it coincidence that I live in the state whose slogan boasts: "We love dreamers"?

Nah! There are no coincidences!

Music Therapy

Today is a sad anniversary. Four years ago my Papa, dear patriarch of our family, passed away...after, gratefully, only a short struggle.

Sad also because I missed seeing him alive by mere hours, although my siblings assure me I was fortunate not to be there. His audible suffering the night before and refusal of any more morphine, was a sure sign the end was near.

On the flight back to Michigan, I knew Dad was already gone. I needed the truth; it was my oldest brother who called to tell me, "Yes, dad just died..."

I flew with the heaviest heart, trying to hold back tears, glad to have my mate's shoulder to cry on.

It's only been four years, but it feels like forty!

Maybe all these mixed emotions are what compelled me to find and listen to Neil Young's "Old Man" today.

Oddly comforting but taking it wherever I can get it.

Ewwww!

In an effort not to offend foreign visitors, Chinese officials have ordered all food venues to curtail the sale of "prepared dog" on their menus during the Olympics.

Upon reading this report, my immediate response was "Ewwwwww!" but the truth is: had I grown up eating dog meat, I'd probably think nothing of it...just as I do whenever I eat cow, pig or chicken.

Were those animals singled out as acceptable livestock to slaughter and consume in America because, aesthetically-speaking, they're the least attractive? The most plentiful?

I kept waiting for the author to report that dog tastes "just like chicken" but was surprised to read it tastes like lamb. That's some strong meat!

I'm not going to make any wise cracks about tough times in America and missing dogs but I will say this. Despite not being a "dog" person, the very thought of eating man's best friend makes me want to heave...

...proving once again, we are all nothing more than creatures of habit and indoctrination.

Past Lives

Though I'm grateful not to have lived during Victorian times, encumbered by layers of garb and prurient attitudes, I find many of the graces that came out of that era to be very endearing.

Life may not have been easy but it was simpler. Afternoon tea was a time set aside each day to take a break and enjoy one of life's natural beverages.

I have an affinity for vintage things.

When it comes to music, I dig classic rock and American standards; retro household items, too, for nostalgia's sake. With an old Raleigh bicycle and an '87 Honda Accord, my love for old things makes me wonder, "Am I an old soul"...

...or just old?

One Amazing Man

Last night I saw another tribute to Randy Pausch, the charismatic Carnegie Mellon professor who died recently from pancreatic cancer. Diane Sawyer interviewed the family a few times to document his last months and activities.

Pausch's thoughtful book, 'The Last Lecture' was originally written for his children but became an instant best-seller because of its authentic message about living a righteous life.

Randy was 39 when he got married because 'he hadn't met anyone whose happiness meant more than his'...until he met Jai who became his wife and life partner. But she proved to be one of his greatest challenges as she was not immediately convinced that he wasn't gay. After all, he had an affinity for stuffed animals and he liked to sew! (Not that there's anything inherently gay about that!)

Terminal illness, be damned!

In the face of impending death, Pausch's optimistic attitude was the best antidote! It was as if he was mocking The Reaper, looking physically fit and carrying on normally.

His first symptoms were a flu-like fatigue but shortly after a series of tests, the tumors surrounding his pancreas, were discovered. He went on to explain that since his bile duct was compromised, the fats he consumed were not being processed which caused his stool to be lightweight and floating. That was his second symptom.

Pancreatic cancer is the most deadly because being behind other organs, the pancreas is hidden. By the time one feels any discomfort, the disease is usually progressed. In that regard, Pausch's illness was textbook.

In 47 years, Randy Pausch lived more life than most of us do given much longer. His inspiration and contributions are exemplary but the greatest trait he possessed was 'joie de vivre'. In his own words, he claimed, 'I don't know how to not have fun!'

When his children were finally told of his sickness, his oldest son said, 'My dad taught me that there's no problem that can't be solved.'

Unfortunately, cancer remains one of the few that defies that statement.

Every picture tells a story

Skin Art. That's what it is, after all.

No longer confined to the epidermis of the young and fitful or drunken sailors, tattoos grace the skin of every age and economic status nowadays.

People who etch their bodies with ink in the name of creativity and self-expression intrigue me. Like passing a car-wreck, I'm compelled to stare at those who decorate their bodies with more than clothing and accessories.

Some tattoos very clearly scream 'look at me!' like the freak, er, I mean, the guy with his whole face inked who struts his stuff in the crowds on Alberta during Last Thursday. He must WANT people to stare, right? So, I oblige!

I always wonder, "what kind of work do they--with loud, visible 'tatts'--do for a living?" 'Ink Face' is probably a tattoo artist advertising his craft, front and center, wherever he goes.

I understand many people get tattoos to mark, quite literally, a special date or to enshrine a moment in time. Most are discreet about body placement for only their intimates to see and enjoy while others...aren't so.

This much I know: the more bodies I see covered in ink, the happier I am to be "tatt-free".

Only marks on this epidermis are beauty--that's au natural, baby!

Ha -Ha!

It's the best medicine! It tickles your funny bone, rumbles around in your belly, stimulates your immune system, brings on giggles and it costs nothing...

What is it? You know...hahahahahahahaha!!!

LAUGHTER!

Where would we be without it? Life would just be too glum to survive; I know I couldn't.

I LOVE LAUGHTER. I love to do it and hear it.

And I only hope, for all my vices, that my laughter makes up for them!

Ha, Ha! As if!

Cafe Ole`

Oh, the bane of my existence!

Can't say how many I've had but it's time, once again, to replace another coffee maker. Each new one, regardless of fancy features, has failed to last.

Maybe it's time to inve$t in one made by a high-end brand like Cuisinart or KitchenAid. Will they prove to serve any better?

How about the drip-factor? Haven't found one yet that doesn't. Mr. Coffee is the original but has HE perfected the dripless coffee pot?

Maybe it's time to find out!

"Soul Food"

Barking dogs. Screaming kids. Buzzing saws. These are some of the neighborhood sounds that disturb the peace.

Since I have none of the above, I do what I can to remind the neighbors that their pets and kids aren't the only ones who can break the silence.

I rock n' roll...

Loudly!

I crank up the stereo, dance, sing along, play air guitar; generally getting my ya-ya's out. But I wait till late morning or early afternoon to turn up the volume. Wouldn't want to miss the sound of early morning birds chirping, even though that never stops barking dogs.

I prefer to get my exercise unconventionally. Without the boredom of repetitive lifts, bends and squats, I'm raising my heart rate my way: sweatin' it up while rockin' out!

Satisfying two daily requirements: moderate exercise and food for the soul.

Ouch!

Isn't the human body an amazing organism!? Its ability to heal itself is truly incredible!

For instance, our tongue.

Recently, I bit mine so hard and cut it so deeply with a molar, it took weeks to heal completely. It bled and it throbbed. I wasn't sure my tongue would recover fully.

This incident got me thinking how bizarre it'd feel to have, like many 20-somethings, a studded tongue. A foreign object, no matter what or where it's located on the body, is considered an invasive object.

But I suppose, after the initial incision heals, it's like all other boo-boos. It closes up and fades away to the point where one would never know it's there.

Still, that may be fine for others; as for me, I'll remain stud-free.

Berry Good!

Some people believe it's Christmas...but count me in with those who think THIS, the berry middle of the summer is...

The.

Most.

Wonderful.

Time.

Of.

The.

Year.

Especially here, in Oregon; especially now, when all the berries are about to burst off the vine.

Raspberries. Blueberries. Blackberries. Huckleberries. Boysenberries. Loganberries; cobbler, pancakes, muffins, ice cream and cocktails.

Berries are as native to this region as peaches are to Georgia!

And they are m-m-m-m good...

right now...

...during this...

the most wonderful time of the year!

Freak Flag

Here's something we rarely hear...but it's true,

so I'm just going to say it: I LOVE MY HAIR!

No fuss, no muss...but mostly because it is stick-straight.

I'm glad I don't suffer from 'humidity blues'. Whenever the air is thick with moisture, no fret about frizzing up.

Of course, I didn't always love my hair. Like most people, I wanted what it wasn't. Too many perms later, to try to achieve that which just wasn't meant to be, finally, I embraced my locks, as is.

I've never regretted being low maintenance. No color or blow dryer. No serums or pomades; no mousse and certainly no hair spray! Beyond the use of shampoo and conditioner, about every third day, my hair is totally natural and by not over-processing, shiny, too.

Proud to be Non-Product Queen!

Hot Fun!

It was time for a complete change of scenery but close to home.

It didn't take long to figure out Eastern Oregon was just the place since neither of us had ever been there. Deep in the Wallowa National Forest at the end of a very, very, long and winding road, was our final destination.

I braced myself for what I knew would be a long-ass haul. That it was! The worst part: getting past the high, dry desert country in-between the Cascade and Blue Mountains.

These are the times and places that air-conditioning in Oregon is hardly optional. Driving through the hottest, driest stretches, the words "desolation" and "complete desolation" kept coming to mind while wondering, "How did anyone live out here?".

We passed places we'd only heard of on the nightly news like Arlington, Meacham, Heppner, Boardman, Pendleton, La Grande and Enterprise, otherwise known as Cowboy Country.

But our charming little cabin in the woods at 4,000 feet above sea level just off beautiful Wallowa Lake surrounded by 8,000-foot snow-capped peaks, was well-worth the drive.

Wallowa Lake Resort and Hell's Canyon wild scenic area reminded me of many other places I'd seen before like Park City, Utah; other times, it felt like we were near Crater Lake.

At any rate, we weren't in Northeast Portland anymore!

After five days breathing ponderosa pine air, getting up-close to nature, feeding deer, eating heartily--fresh, rainbow trouts caught by John--sleeping deeply and seeing how the other, rural half live, it was time to come back down to sea level.

By the time we reached Hood River and the Cascade mountains, we breathed a heavy sigh of relief. The cool greenery and hovering clouds reminded us of why we live in the verdant Willamette valley.

Mission accomplished!

Fact or Fiction

"I may not be perfect but parts of me are excellent."

That saying not only gave me a chuckle but it's one I remember from time to time, like a self-affirmation, whenever I may get down about my shortcomings.

For example, I cannot read novels. The sub-plots and multi-layered personalities of various characters are too tedious to pile on top of my already-overloaded brain. Add in reverse-chronology, I am lost.

Prequels, sequels, trilogies? Forgetaboutit!!

I blame this on my attention-challenged psyche; easily distracted, it may take me three times to read one paragraph for full comprehension. That's no way to enjoy any book!

When "The Da Vinci Code" was all the rage, I wanted to understand why. Ditto "The Celestine Prophecy", "The Secret", and "The Four Agreements".

Still, no can do. I read for information or inspiration--not to escape. Just the facts, please and a few visuals like political cartoons suit me fine.

As for the NY Times bestselling novels, I'll wait for movie versions--even though they rarely do the original piece justice and may never be as exciting as cracking the spine of a fresh novel.

Still, it beats being out of the literary loop.

Excellence not perfection!

True Love

Some women love shoes; others have a weakness for handbags. I happen to fall into the latter group.

It's true. I am a Purse 'Ho.

It's not that I don't love shoes. I do. It's just that I tend to gravitate to the same ones everyday. I wear a favorite pair till I fall for something else. Such a fickle love affair I have with footwear!

But with purses: newer, cooler ones that trump all the others I own, keep coming into sharper focus. Sometimes I muse on it; sometimes, it's an obsession.

Must. Have. Bag.

But ultimately, I never go looking for the handbags I fall for; they find me.

Just like true love.

So Much More

Oh, Modern Technology, we thank thee...especially for machines that clean our things like automatic dishwashers and washing machines!

How spoiled we are, to shop at a corner store and chose our food instead of hunting and gathering for it like our ancestors did!

How blessed we are, to live in a city brimming with weekly farmer's markets in every neighborhood!

But still...

We may not have to grow our own food or debone a carcass (how disgusting!) but the daily/weekly ritual of getting groceries from market to table is, well, exhausting.

How did my mom do it for so many people, for so many years? I never heard her complain but, no doubt, she suffered in silence. It was, after all, her duty as well as her position as domestic engineer.

And smile all the while.

But that was then. Luckily, no longer is it a woman's-only department to shop and schlep provisions. Women may have a ways to go before attaining 100% equal rights, but we've come a long, long way from the days of being relegated to running a household only.

From CEO's to United States presidential campaigner, nowadays women are running multi-million dollar businesses everywhere.

Domestic engineer? You bet!

But Oh, Soooo much more!!!

Loser!

I've lost a lot of things in my life but for sure, the most annoying loss has got to be my glasses, especially for the second time! These are not reading glasses, mind you, but prescription lenses needed for long distance.

Next, the TV remote has gone missing for a couple days which I'd easily live without if I could just find my glasses! (OK, maybe not easily; we are, after all, creatures of habit)

What's next? Car keys? Fortunately, I have a back-up set.

The first time my glasses went missing a few months ago, I did without them for weeks before realizing I needed to order another pair.

Of course, they were found the next day. Fortunately, I was able to cancel the new ones.

Last time I lost my glasses I swore I'd wear them around my neck from now on. But since I actually need them so rarely, it seemed impractical, not to mention, ridiculous-looking.

Now what? Vacation looms next week. Hhhmmm, I wonder how long I can go without them this time.

Bu$ted!

I've lived in Portland for 28 years and today I had a first! Not something I'm proud of but something that was certain to catch up with me...eventually.

"Instant karma's gonna get you." And get me, it did!

Got pulled over for speeding. Yup! Had never been pulled over by Portland's finest...till today.

Not that I haven't deserved LOTS of tickets long ago for the same offense. I have been flying around the streets of Portland, especially Northeast...for almost 30 years. So, I consider myself lucky that it's taken the cops this long to get me.

After he introduced himself as Officer John _______________something, I didn't hear another thing until he said his "radar clocked me going 59 in a 45 mile zone".

O.K. Fair enough.

While sitting there waiting for my verdict, I entertained visions of Officer John giving me a 'warning'.

Ha. Fat chance! Adding insult to injury, some guy driving by in a red Volvo yelled at us, "Yeah, get her! She was flying!"

Ouch! OK, OK; Mea Culpa!

Just.
Don't.
Shoot.

Except for the economical crunch, it was fairly painless. He took less than 10 minutes to cite me for speeding and I was off, hoping I wouldn't get pulled over again in the same day.

As I drove away from the curb, I vowed to never $peed again!

Ha.

Yeah, right!

Oh, My!

Zip Cars. Flex-Cars. Smart Cars.

There are some very peculiar-looking vehicles on the road these days as everyone scrambles to find cheaper ways to get around the city.

I did a double-take recently when I noticed a three-wheeled auto resembling a go-cart, was driving alongside me. In my average-sized sedan, I felt like a giant. It was even small enough to be in the bike lane, though I'm sure bicyclists wouldn't hear of that.

With so many different modes of transportation to choose from, I am proud to live in such a progressive city (as Portland) which encourages us to move toward future solutions using these alternatives.

Yes, it makes city driving more challenging as nowadays we must be ever-vigilant of commuters on bikes, scooters and 3-wheelers. But considering their conscientious motives to tread lighter and use less oil, that's an easy concession.

We, the driving public, should be very grateful...and watchful of them.

Yahoooo!!

Sweet, Sweet Solstice!!!

And not a minute too soon!

I heart Summa'time!

When the going gets tough...

Like happiness, it is evanescent; something you can't put your finger on; a quiet knowing that regardless of outcome, "This, too, shall pass."

It.

Is.

Faith.

Faith may have its roots in religion but for me, it encompasses a way of life beyond the confines of any place of worship. Without it, I'm not sure how I'd survive.

They say when the going gets tough, the tough get going. But more often than not, the tough turn to their faith, stronger than steel.

When I find myself at a crossroads or when life throws me a curve ball, faith (in the outcome) is my strongest ally.

Ofttimes, it is the questions that are more important than the answers.

What she said!

I'm convinced there are two kinds of people in this world.

Dog people and everyone else!

To wit, while sitting on the floor at a friend's house yesterday, suddenly her two big black Labs came bounding up behind me and started licking my neck profusely.

Yikes!!!

Yuck!! My neck was all wet with doggie saliva!

I know. I know. This is a distinct sign of affection on their parts for which I should feel honored.

But. Still.

I left there thinking, "I don't mind saliva on my neck...really, I don't; as long as it comes from the tongue of my lover."

Scathingly Delightful!

Finally. Finally! Finally!!

It's one of those gorgeous Oregon days where the weather is, dare I say, perfect!? The kind we wait all winter for: around 75 degrees, not a cloud in the sky and a slight breeze.

Ahhhh, IADOREGON!!

We may suffer long stretches of grey days...but that's because we know what lies ahead. We await the great weather full of anticipation, for when it arrives, it never ceases to enthrall.

Finally, that time is here!

It is a scathingly delightful Sunday; a slow, lazy day; a time to kick back and enjoy the weather in whatever way suitable.

On the river, in the mountains or at the beach.

It's all within reach.

Just add sunshine!

Fly Girl!

Never been a big fan of flying but I have, finally, gotten over my fear of it.

Still, I'm glad that, at this writing, I have no need or intention of boarding a "big bird". Not only is it more expensive now, most airlines have resorted to nickle and dime-ing their customers in an effort to offset higher fuel costs.

A recent report really brought it home.

"Flying is no longer something to enjoy but to endure."

Ha. That's the only way I've ever coped with flying: by sheer endurance of...cramped quarters, shared arm rests, long hours and crying babies! Ach!

I consider flying to be a sacrifice, a complete surrender of control, decisions and time lines. Unless one lives in the lap of luxury, where money is no object and first class is always the way to go, flying is no longer an enjoyable mode of transportation.

Not that it ever was for this fly girl!

June-uary!

I'm just as tired of the cold, grey weather as the next Oregonian but between the two extremes playing out across the nation, I'll take what we've got any day over oppressively hot and humid that the eastern states are suffering these days.

No. Contest.

Meanwhile, my summer linens hang there as if to mock me while I grab for wool and fleece during June-uary, as it's been affectionately dubbed.

Not to worry; once summer arrives here, it will be pure nirvana with warm temperatures and light marine breezes, always keeping us cool under the hottest conditions.

I heart the Pacific Northwest!

$ign of the Time$

With constantly rising fuel costs, many people are scrambling to find cheaper ways to get around. In doing so, they're turning to new AND old modes of transportation.

There I was in the front yard yesterday, tending my garden, when a passing car stopped and its driver asked,

"Are you using that old Honda?", referring to my 87 Accord in the driveway.

"Oh, yeah!", I replied.

"So, it's not for sale!?", he continued.

"Oh, Nooooo!" said I, emphatically.

Over the years, that ol' Honda has taken a lickin' and keeps on tickin' while I've taken a lot of flak, mostly from family, about how old it is.

Not easily swayed by nay-sayers, I know a good thing when I got it! Truly faithful vehicles like Hondas last--if not forever--for a very L O N G T I M E.

So, what d'ya know!? People are seeking out older models like mine. Who knew my old car would become so desirable?

Why? Three words: great gas mileage.

I have been officially vindicated!

Ode to Papa

Every year around this time, I get a little melancholy. Seeing all the ads for Father's Day reminds me that mine in gone. It's only been four years but it feels like forty.

Even though I hadn't lived near Dad for twenty-some years, despite the miles between us, we'd become so much closer over the last decade.

He would call me for no other reason that to say "hi" when in the past Dad wasn't much of a phone person. But after retirement, he was so full of life and joie de vivre! It was such a pleasure to know him as a friend instead of just my parent.

Much of who I am today I owe to him. Never one to mince words, Dad always told it like it is, even if somewhat brashly. I'm sure I got my in-your-face, no-bones-about-it writing style from him although mom was no shrinking violet either. heh-heh!

Both of my parents were ordinary people who accomplished extraordinary things in their lives, not the least of which was raising a hellion like me!

Is it July yet?

OK, it's getting a little old now!

With a low pressure system hanging tightly over the Pacific Northwest, day after day, it's cold and wet and grey.

Sure, we may get one nice day, in between a week's worth of dark, dank ones. Great weather for indoor work but the garden, oh, the garden!!--in need of more Spring cleaning, incessant drizzly weather is not cooperating.

Mother Nature can be such a Bitch!

But I should know by now. This isn't rare. After all, it's Rose Festival in The Rose City and statistics would likely bear out that rainy is the norm now.

I should also know that summer doesn't arrive in Portland till July 5. For some strange reason, it's true and statistics would likely bear that out, too!

Sigh! Is it July yet?

To a T

I used to think Oregon's state motto: "She Flies With Her Own Wings" was silly. Seemed to me it should be: "Live and Let Live" for that is truly the way Oregonians conduct their lives.

"Do your own thing, I'll do mine and leave me the hell alone." ha.

Well, not quite but for the most part, yes, Oregonians don't like to be told what to do, how to do it or when.

So I got to thinking about the state motto again. And the more I did, the more it made sense.

Oregonians are known mavericks; trail blazers; the first to forge ahead on many fronts.

We go our own way and make no apologies. In light of that, I came to see how our state motto fits us to a t.

We may fly by the seat of our pants, at times, but we definitely fly with our own wings!

Party Schmarty!

Maybe it's because I'm an artist. (love my solitude!)

Maybe it's because I'm over 50. (been there, done that!)

Maybe it's because in my line of work, teaching adults, I get to interact with so many different people. And lecturing is exhausting.

Or maybe it's because I have better things to do.

Truth is, I don't care for parties anymore! Crowded social events filled with people I don't know or want to, making small talk, just does not appeal to me.

I'd much rather listen to music, sipping liqueur at an intimate venue or stay home curled up with a good book and a warm cupppa tea.

Ahhhhmen!

"So what!?"

It's a sad day for America when a national ad (Dunkin' Donuts) gets pulled because the popular TV spokeswoman (Rachel Ray) is wearing a scarf with fringe (that looks) similar to what Arabs wear.

In the eternal words of Dick Cheney, 'So what!?' For goodness sake's, it's just a scarf that an unwitting stylist provided.

Have Americans become so paranoid as to read into a piece of cloth more than the fashion statement it was intended to be?

Sad, indeed!

Cheap or Frugal?

There's a difference between being cheap and frugal. Cheap brags about being cheap while frugal is a quiet knowing of how to stretch a buck without having to tell everyone.

Cheap never splurges or allows niceties. Frugal is a balance between good budgeting and periodic indulgence, knowing a treat is the reward for smart spending.

Cheap is repeatedly buying something of lesser value and wondering why it doesn't last. Frugal is knowing that to spend a little bit more now will save a lot more later.

Cheap is charging friends to go to your party. Frugal is saving up for it all year so loved ones can celebrate YOU without footing the bill.

Cheap never sleeps; frugal rests well.

Memorial Day

Ah, holidays...when most people leave town making Portland even quieter than usual. Since those with children take advantage of long weekends to hit the beach or the mountains, we choose not to.

Life goes on in the city but at a slower, more leisurely pace; it's so easy to get around. Even with exhorbitant fuel prices, vacationers are still doing what they do every year: they go away.

Hooray for us who stay!

North, South, East, West!

In one week, we went from woolens to linens to woolens. Oh, my!

That's Oregon...unseasonably cool or hot but mostly unpredictable.

I actually like it. For one thing, our weather is never boring. It's not unusual to experience extreme temperature fluctuations like last week--from 60's to 90's--which makes living here very interesting.

Truth is, I wouldn't live where the weather was perpetually the same and the seasons, indistinguishable.

Like everything else in life, I suppose it's because we are all creatures of habit and products of our environment. Having lived north of the 45th parallel my whole life probably explains why a change of seasons and temperatures is so vital to me.

I need variety.

I love the rain on my face, sun on my back and wind in my hair. I need the cold as much as I need the warmth.

But had I grown up in the South, I'd probably love seeing the Big Yellow Orb, day in and day out, living in lightweight clothing twelve months of the year.

For my skin's sake, I'm glad I was born a Northerner. And for my soul's sake,

I'm glad I live Out West!

If You Could...

There's a question many interviewers ask their subjects that I find very intriguing. Posed mostly to famous people, older celebrities who claim to know a thing or two as they look back in retrospect, that question is:

"If you could, what would you tell your Younger Self?"

If I could, I'd tell my Younger Self,

"It's okay not to know who you are in your twenties. It is the rare few who do.

Whatever you do, go and see as much as you can while you are young and unattached. Travel the world for it is in those adventures, your Authentic Self will emerge.

While it's true the world will always be there (or so we hope!) to explore, it is infinitely easier to travel freely and unencumbered by responsibilities and kid$.

And for goodness sake, quit worrying about finding The One...and marriage. You have the rest of your life to be married...if that's what you ultimately want.

Life will unfold accordingly, the good, bad and ugly. But all of it will serve you well and you will survive to become who you are today."

With all its bumps and travails, life did unfold and I'm all the better for having wondered and wandered.

Do Not Discuss!

He likes her and she likes him. I'm not talking about Boy Meets Girl.

Or.

He likes him and she likes her. No, not about homosexuals either.

So, what am I talking about?

I'm talking about spouses who can't discuss the upcoming election because it evokes too much passion and sometimes erupts into nastiness. That so many couples are at odds with each other over this primary speaks to the level of intensity amongst voters unlike any other time within recent political history.

After all, for the last eight years almost everyone agrees: the current administration has been a total train wreck. That's why this election is so important and why the tension, so palpable.

Not just between the nominees, but in households across America, there is a Great Divide this year.

And the candidates think they're exhausted!

Couldn't Have Said It Better

A creative life is one unlike the norm. Most people who write or sing or paint for a living do not inhabit the usual 9 to 5 world. Theirs is a full-time endeavor stretching beyond the confines of a designated time frame.

To be sure, being creative for a living is one of uncertainty, insecurity and some may say, insanity; definitely not for the faint of heart. It requires both a strong faith and belief in oneself beyond what it takes to fulfill the eight hours of day most people work.

No clock to punch or daily assignment from a superior, it is a life of self-discipline and motivation. Without it, nothing gets accomplished.

The life of an artist is difficult to categorize. Often dependent on inspiration, an intangible concept, one cannot make beautiful 'anything' without being inspired whether by muses or visuals.

To stifle the negative self-talk and nay-sayers requires a steely dedication and determination, one that runs non-stop.

The great grandfather of Portland's art scene, Harry Wentz, once said:

"Art is not a profession; it is a way of life."

I couldn't have said it better!

A Woman's Prerogative

Never have I been a flip-flopper especially where the subject of politics is concerned. But never before have I been so unsure of who to vote for in Oregon's upcoming presidential primary, May 20.

One day, I am confidant my vote will go to Obama whose voice I find to be honest and forthright. The next day, I'm reminded of the experience and lifetime of hard work Hillary has whereas Obama is a relative newcomer.

Most importantly, for the first time in forty years, OREGON WILL MATTER.

If Barack Obama takes Oregon, he may go so far as to claim the Democrat's nomination victory right here on Oregon soil.

That. Is. Huge.

That's why my own vote is so important. I have less than 6 days--and counting--to figure it out.

Not a word I'd ever use as a personal description, but this time it fits to a t: Undecided. That's me!

How very sad!

Myanmar. China. Thailand. Indonesia. Bali.

Whenever a major natural disaster occurs anywhere in the world, the USA is quick to offer aid but when our own needed immediate rescue [Hurricane Katrina], where was the relief?

The same is true of other crises. We are so quick to offer help to some (mortgage bankers) while letting others (homeowners) languish.

Now we have an undeniable war-without-end on our hands, unless we elect someone who is willing and able to 'pull the plug'.

If all the revenue we send world-wide annually, including to Israel, were actually u$ed here, to $pend on infrastructure (bridges, roads, schools, alternative energy, etc) perhaps our economy wouldn't be in such dire $trait$.

If Uncle Sam helped American citizens as readily as he helps others, just think what a better America this could be!

Naive`? Perhaps! Idealistic? You bet!

That. I. am.

Win, Lose or Draw

When I look back on my childhood, I can honestly say it was a happy one with two parents at the helm who loved each other; a home devoid of abuse of any kind, physical or emotional; no alcoholism, incest, gambling or adultery.

At the time, I never knew how lucky I was. Though that's not to say I felt lucky. On the contrary, I always felt deprived because my parents never caved in to giving us whatever we wanted.

Instead, they focused all their attention and income on giving us other "things"; that which they knew was more important: good food, a warm, clean bed, a private school education and LOVE, lots of unconditional LOVE.

That's not to say I grew up in la-la-land. Ha-ha-hardly!

My mom was a screamer. Ach! Now, looking back, I can see why. She had four teenagers during the 60's and 70's. There was a revolution going on but not just in the music industry. The era of 'Drugs, Sex and Rock 'n' Roll' definitely took its toll.

That my parents survived those years and stayed together is nothing short of a miracle but not unlike all my friends' parents who were dealt the same cards.

Deal or fold? My parents dealt with us, head on and we were better off because of it.

Something only time and wisdom could impart.

More Pedal, Less Metal

It turns out there are some positive, unintended consequences to the constantly-rising gas prices.

Say what?

The $urge in fuel oil, coupled with Americans' gas-guzzling automobiles, are getting commuters to consider alternate modes of transport, sending lots onto public transportation--many for the first-time, into carpools and onto bicycles.

This bodes well.

I'm not in favor of sky-rocketing gas prices, but if it gets more people off the roads, perhaps it is...

...Not. All. Bad.

Got Spring?

A rose here, an iris there, clematis and honeysuckle both bursting with buds ready to explode...

...but here in the Pacific Northwest, Mother Nature has not been kind this Spring!

Tulips came in on time but relentless rains and snows(!) in April withered their edges prematurely. Instead of stately, they looked sad so I cut most from my garden to bring them in where they might find a more favorable climate.

But mostly I cut them for sheer enjoyment of their vivid colors; in the kitchen window to cheer me and remind me, it IS in fact, Spring despite the gloomy, grey skies overhead.

I know Spring will eventually arrive but She will not come in with a purr. Instead, She will be extreme just like weather all over the country has been this year.

Weatherman is predicting 92 degrees by next Friday. This, after months of temperatures hovering in the 50's!

To think, some people are still skeptical of global warming!

$timulu$ Package

So, that $1200. dollars "W" promised, showed up in our checking account a couple days ago.

Initially, I laughed at the notion of Bush's $olution to the rece$$ion... to hand out revenue. But shortly thereafter, I realized we were going to get a four-digit check...soon.

Hhhmmm, how nice!

At the urging of our economically-challenged President (to go buy--something frivolous--in order to stimulate the economy)just like that, I let myself gooooo...

...to the clog shop

...where my friend works

...to get that pair I've always wanted.

Without flinching, I bought a pair of 3-digit clogs I'd had my eyes on for a l-o-n-g time.

You see, I've never bought a pair of shoes for over 100 dollar$. Unlike Carrie Bradshaw, I cannot fathom the idea of forking over, say $400, for a pair of "designer" footwear.

Tres unconscionable to moi!

But this one-time phenomenom seemed like the right time to do something totally outside my normal behavior. Afterwards, I wondered if I might not actually like them, knowing they were borne of ill-begotten mean$.

Nah!

I came to see they were the perfect metaphor. Every time I'm stomping and clomping around on the pavement, it is a physical renouncement of Bush.

Thanks, W!

Analyze This!

Do you know anyone who studied or got a degree in psychology?

Two acquaintances from my past did and as I got to know them better, I came to believe they studied psychology because each one was "quite a case".

Others with whom I've discussed this agreed. They, too, knew psych majors, only to arrive at the same conclusion: those who studied the subject were, indeed, in need of analyzing.

I'm not knocking therapy for I understand it has done volumes of good for many who have sought help or relief from what ails them. But imagine telling your troubles to someone who may be even more troubled.

Notice the root word of analyze is "anal".

Air, Earth, Fire & Water

I have a theory about people which some may find too "woo-woo" but I think there's a lot of weight to it.

Though I recognize a person's being is more a result of DNA than anything else, still, I believe the position of stars and planets at the time of one's birth has an uncanny influence on one's personality.

Each astrological sign, ruled by certain planets, is one of four elements: air, earth, fire or water.

And it makes all the difference!

For example, as an Aquarian, an air sign ruled by Uranus, planet of unpredictability, I need lots of AIR! Space. Freedom. Independence.

Ditto, for the two other air signs: Libra and Gemini.

Fire signs, Leo, Sagittarius and Aries are known for their intensity. You do not want to invoke the wrath of a fire sign!

Earth signs, Virgo, Capricorn and Taurus, are the workhorses of the zodiac. Stubborn as the day is long, those born under an Earth sign are usually dogged in their determination. Get out of their way!

And then there's the Water signs: Pisces, Scorpio and Cancer. Aahhhh, how to say this nicely? Wishy-washy, overly-sensitive and moody, those born under a water sign usually have the most drama in life but, not sure why, seem to revel in their travails. Sigh!

Looking around at the people in my life, it's easy to see their "element" fits them to a tee. So, it's not lost on me how strongly the planets influence our yins, yangs and yearnings.

Encore!

Oh, the Dogma!

Growing up Catholic, I learned a litany of jargon. Tis a testament to the myriad reasons young children are simultaneously frightened and skeptical about religion.

Let us review:

GOD -- Our Great Creator, Infallible, Omnipresent and Supreme; given male persona, also referred to as He or Him.

Sins -- Venial and Mortal. Venial sins, like Life Infractions, are redeemed by serving "penance". Mortal sins, like taking someone's life, are a serious matter for which greater penance is required.

Penance -- as consequence of actions, it is required compensation; usually consists of praying 5 Hail Mary's and 10 Our Father's after making confession to a priest.

Priest -- purveyor of all things Catholic; he who serves God by ad'ministering' to the poor and rich alike while also serving Mass and other duties like presiding over marriages and funerals.

Mass -- the ritual or liturgy of turning wine into the blood and bread into the Body of Christ in order to give Communion to the people.

Communion -- the ingesting of wafer bread and wine for healing and redemption.

Confession -- one of the Sacraments enabling a parishioner to purge missteps (aka sins) in order to clean spiritual plate, by revealing 'sins' in private.

Heaven -- a place of eternal peace, happiness and joy bestowed upon those who live a righteous earthly life determined by God at The Pearly Gates on Judgement Day.

HELL -- a VERY HOT place where all evil-doers are damned forever.

Purgatory -- a middle sphere between heaven and hell where a soul goes to do penance for sins not deemed serious enough for HELL.

Limbo -- an ether world where babies go if they die before being baptized.

So, you see, that's a lot for kids to understand. Nowadays, I have a more androgonous view of God. I prefer to believe G.O.D is an acronym:

General Omnipotent Deity.

Genderless and Autonomous.

Has anyone come back to report Otherwise?

Amen!

"And so it came to pass..."

Growing up in the Catholic Church, I heard those words often as the opening lines of the "gospel according to whomever": Paul, Luke, Mark, or one of the other Apostles.

Called a parable, there was always a lesson to be learned or a moral to the story.

But as a fidgety child forced to sit through hours of sermons, I could only wonder how any of it would tie into my adult life. I was just too young to understand.

So, once grown, I did as many others: left organized religion and never looked back.

It strikes me as no coincidence that I came to live in Oregon, a place known as one of the most "unchurched". An interesting dichotomy is that, back east, Oregon is called "God's Country."

Why?

Because it is so damn beautiful where ever you look, only a Supreme Being could have created such a Paradise. And we, its "parishioners" know, His/Her presence and handiwork are everywhere here.

So, it seems redundant to go within four walls to seek peace and meditation when it can be found in so many places out-of-doors. But I understand many people join churches to be part of a flock or a community; to hear a message that may resonate throughout their week ahead.

Fine for them.

As for me, I'll take a walk through a quiet garden or The Grotto, where I feel the hand of the Great Creator just as surely as I would if I were sitting in a church pew.

Amen!

"It"

It means as many different things to as many different people. Though it's fleeting and indescribable, we pursue it with the veracity of a devout fan. It is, after all, our inalienable right and we may go to the ends of the earth to seek and find.

It. Is. Happiness.

Depending on one's definition, Happiness can "be" or "do".

Many people would describe their happiest day as one being quiet, reading or meditating. Instead of seeking it, their happiness can be found in solitude.

But many others find happiness by doing. A restless soul needs travel and adventure for which wanderlust is the only cure.

Still others have a simpler definition; happiness may just mean a warm bed at the end of a hard day's work.

On the other hand, kids find happiness everywhere, some by simply rustling around in a pile of autumn leaves. If something captures their curiosity, kids are quick to investigate. Since they're too young to restrain their impulses, they act on them; instant gratification!

Once we become adults, we learn to temper our impulses...sometimes to the very detriment of our own happiness.

Quel damage!

Driving While Flying

I am one of those types who gets attached to cars. I've only owned a handful in my life and of those vehicles, I'm most sentimental about my ol' 1987 Honda Accord LXi...that's still with me...165,000 miles and goin' strong.

Knock. On. Wood.

She's been a sweet, faithful mobile and for that I've kept her around. Now that she's over 20 years old, I won't be getting rid of her. Instead, I'm embellishing her exterior with shards.

Shards of what, you ask?

Mostly winged-things like butterflies and fairies because Old Faithful still flies. She is the mode of transport that brings me closest to that feeling without actually leaving terra firma. You see, I like to be grounded when I fly.

Once in a while on the open (dry!) road (to the beach) I find myself driving almost 80 miles an hour! Whoa! I don't even notice, until it appears other cars are standing still.

Not that I fly alone!

No matter the posted limit, others speed too though I know that doesn't make it right or legal. In my defense, at least I'm not talking on a cell phone, putting on make-up, eating a Big Mac or texting while driving.

When I'm flying in my car, I hold on tight with both hands...for dear life...because despite that fleeting feeling of flight while driving, I get it:

Speed kills!

Ga$ $uck$!

Boy, do I feel old! When I first started driving in 1971 the cost of gas was twenty-five cents a gallon.

That's right! A quarter a gallon!

Back then, I had a Volkswagon beetle which filled up on $2.50. That's right, two dollars and fifty cents!

The latest consumer reports indicate that Americans are flocking to buy smaller vehicles. No surprise! Since we all rely on fuel to feed our cars, we are stuck! With the cost of a barrel of oil continuously ri$ing, there's no chance we will ever see a return to prices of yore.

So, suck it up, people! We are the product of our environment! Until we get angry enough and mobilize, we will continue to be Patsies to the Powers-that-Be!

Got Hope?

As an artist, being thrifty is a way of life for me. The daily juggle of needs versus wants is an ongoing struggle.

Our country's current economic downtown has many people who previously spent wantonly scrambling to learn how to be frugal as gas prices nudge towards $4 a gal.

Who knew that being thrifty would become so nifty?!

Nothing new for me, learning to live within one's income is, I believe, a good lesson for everyone especially Americans who have become so accustomed to "buying things" just because we can.

But in this new world order, more people are hyper-aware of conserving every energy source. If that's an unfortunate result of current world politics, it's a worthy outcome for we have become a bloated nation.

Not used to waiting for any thing, we are bloated on consumption of fast food, fast cars and fast results. Perhaps the belt tightening on every one's part will make for a 'greener', more aware populace.

One can hope.

In It 2 Win It!

Just when Barack Obama thought he was sailing on through to 1600 Pennsylvania Ave, he is dogged by a former pastor who just doesn't get it.

The current drama playing out between Obama and Jeremiah Wright, Jr. is exactly the reason why no one drops out of the campaign till it is ABSOLUTELY CLEAR they have no chance.

Such is the reason why Hillary is still in it. She's been around politics long enough to know the trail to the White House is long and arduous with many pitfalls and potholes along the way.

Campaign 2008 is turning out to be better than the best suspense thriller. Who will win?

Stay tuned!

No-Brainer

So, "W" has me actually thinking about using my economic stimulus check to go shopping! Even though my intuition tells me it's best to $ave it "for a rainy day" or pay down debt$.

Hhhmmm...What a dilemma!

Never before have we had such an open invitation to $pend frivolou$ly.

Tis not of my nature but I must admit, once I start dreaming about what nicety to buy, c'est tres facile (for the non-francs among us, that's: 'very easy') to think of a dozen things I'd like! With a little prodding from our government and a few extra bucks, I just might follow our Chief's command:

"Thou shalt shop to stimulate the economic engine that drives our country."

There's a pair of clogs I've had my eye on for some time. Infinitely cheaper than designer Mahlano Blahniks, I think I'll (let myself!) buy them.

When I consider the countle$$ hundred$ (er, thou$and$?) of "disposable income" that's been $quandered in ca$ino$ (and el$ewhere), this shoe purchase is pure "no brainer"...

...kinda like our "Gee, Whiz, Prez".

Hey, Thanks, "W" ;~ )

Big Deal? NOT!

How sad and pathetic!

When so many people are atwitter over the photograph of a 15-year old celebrity, Disney's money machine, Miley Cyrus, whose upcoming feature in Vanity Fair is deemed too sexy, there is something seriously wrong!

For God's sake, the girl's back is showing! This uproar, over such a tame photo validates, once again, America's reputation for being prudish!

Old School

I'm one of a rare few who don't own a cell phone. Why? By design. Do you know how liberating it is to be unavailable?

For those who really need to get a hold of me, there's a land line at home. Caller I.D.? Not me! An answering machine takes care of that!

Being 'unplugged' makes life a whole lot simpler!

Sure, there are times when having a cell phone would be convenient like when one is detained or running late for a meeting. Or when one gets separated from their party in a large crowd.

This is just what happened to me recently. Suddenly, I felt so disconnected! No one could ring me up to ask where I was. It was up to me to find them.

So, I asked around for the closest public phone. The looks I got were ones of utter speechlessness and confusion. One young woman looked like she'd never heard of such a thing!

But alas, I managed to find one. Fortunately, public phones do still exist.

At least for the time being!

Neighbor Lady

My neighbor is O.C. about her lawn. Obsessive/Compulsive.

It's actually become a source of great amusement for me. She barely lets a few days goes by without firing up her mower again.

I could probably use a little of her compulsiveness when it comes to lawn care. So over-grown is ours, that she--and all the neighbors--probably have a pool going as to when our lawn will get its first 'haircut'.

Twas supposed to be yesterday but instead I weeded, pruned and hacked in preparation for mowing. You see, we have more plants and shrubs than actual grass, so it seems more important to improve the landscape than the lawn.

Does that make sense? The neighbors may not think so either. At any rate, the lawn will get cut; the bamboo will get thinned; the roses will bloom. And the world will keep turning...

...while Neighbor Lady keeps mowing...

and mowing...

and mowing.

Perhaps it is Lawn Therapy.

Full Circle

"It's easy to make a buck. It's a lot tougher to make a difference." -Tom Brokaw
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"No one will ask on your death bed, how many hours you spent at the office but rather what kind of mark you made, what legacy you left behind."

This got me thinking about mine.

People who create, raise or nurture something, human or inanimate, have tangible evidence for their efforts. Work that is fulfilling has one common thread: as you clean up or close down, at the end of the day you leave with a smile inside. An honest day's work feels good.

But that should not be the only defining factor or criteria which constitutes a legacy.

Career alone does not a legacy make!

The physical remnants we leave behind for others to examine will speak volumes about the contribution we made but they are just that: things!

The truth of one's value lies not in things left to sift through. It is in the quiet everyday courtesies extended to others along the way, including to oneself. A life serving others may be noble but it serves no one if the individual burns out.

While it's true: "In giving, we receive", we must take care of ourselves in order to take care of others. Like good karma, it goes around and comes back full circle. Meditation, music or whatever brings a sense of calm and serenity is not only a nicety, it's a necessity in order to be healthy, to do our work.

A legacy amounts to more than a body of completed projects or doing a good job raising another human being. It is a culmination of many things, among them (yes!) good work and deeds but most importantly, having compassion and a good heart.

If, in the end, that's my legacy, my life will be complete.

Pure Bliss

La Nina. El Nino. Global warming. Whatever you want to call it, our weather sucks.

By now, Oregon is usually basking in the glow of warm, sunshine but NOT this year! It's been unseasonably cold and wet. I can take the damp, cool weather for most of the winter, but come Spring, I need the sun on my face to get rid of that deep chill in my bones.

Today we are blessed with beautiful weather, but it will likely be short-lived. Earlier, predictions were for two nice days in a row (Imagine!) but now the next 6 show more precipitation. Ach!

At least I understand, this is not the norm. But those who just moved to Oregon are the ones for whom I feel the most empathy. What they've no doubt heard so often about Oregon is proving true. Incessant rain!

But what they may not get yet, is that once the sun and warm weather do arrive, it will be pure bliss. No humidity. No mosquitoes. No matter how high the mercury rises, there will always be a cool breeze! Ahhhh...

That's what makes it worth hangin' in there for we who have lived here long enough know, "This, too, shall pass".

Lost Art

Okay, first off, I'll admit that I'm a stickler for good grammar and sentence structure but I recognize most people are not! It's almost a lost art!

Even though I may be in the minority and some of my favorite people are guilty of my pet peeve, I'm going to say it anyway.

People, People!! Please put some white space in your emails. They're called paragraphs! When beginning a new thought or idea, skip a line. It's not only correct, it is also gives the recipient a place to rest the eye.

As editor of a monthly health newsletter, my sister told me that nowadays she is working with people who use text messaging instead of full sentences. Forget correct spelling. With "text-ing", there's no more need.

Well, now. Looks like I am becoming more obsolete with each passing day.

Sigh!

The Long and Short of it

Ah, Hair! From the beginning of time, it's been the subject of so much angst and ink.

In the grand scheme of life, we know it's a small matter. After all, except for the follically-challenged, it just keeps growing. But in a smaller scope, it is our "crowning glory", our "freak flag", a signature of sorts. Whether it's long or short or in-between, it's the first thing others see.

Wanting what we don't have is only human nature. The curly-headed among us long for pin straight hair while those who have it wish theirs could be full of va-va-voom and volume.

Like many others, I used to want what I didn't have: curls. Back in the 80's, I suffered through countless perms--with bad pictures as proof--only to come to the eventual (rightful!) conclusion that I should wear my hair the way it was meant to be: the way it is, straight with a slight wave.

That's not to say I've always enjoyed it. Au contraire.

Long hair doesn't favor everyone but that was 'the look' for so long, I never stopped to think if it suited me. It didn't so I realized it had to go.

My new shoulder-length cut was a great adjustment but reactions were so favorable, I shoulda done it sooner. Ever since I made peace with my natural color and style, my hair is a mere afterthought. Wash and wear. No fuss, no muss.

So, how do you like your hair?

One To Watch

Even before I heard it confirmed in the news, it was easy to figure out that Hillary Clinton took Pennsylvania yesterday.

I didn't hear any "Rah-Rah! Oh-Ba-Ma!" in the house this morn. You see, my mate is not only an Obama $upporter, he's in with the masses who've become mesmerized by this man.

I like Obama just fine but I haven't given up on Our Girl yet. Hillary's guts and determination are just what is needed to lead during these very precarious times.

Even if you don't particularly care for the sound of her voice, ya' gotta love Clinton's perseverance and dedication.

Both candidates come from Illinois; Hillary, born there; Barack, arrived later. In spite of being called an elitist recently, Obama chose Chicago to practice law where he thought he could make a difference. Both possess good Midwest work ethics.

Clinton may be down (in delegate numbers) but she's definitely not OUT yet!

Let the contest continue!

Imagine!

Like many Baby Boomers, I grew up watching TV sitcoms during the 60's. A couple of my favorites were "Bewitched" and "I Dream of Jeanie".

It strikes me funny that both shows' lead characters had the ability to change their circumstances with the twitch of a nose or the nod of a head. These women had super-powers enabling them to magically "fix" whatever problems arose.

Imagine!

I suppose it's only human to want what we don't have: extra special abilities outside of our own natural instincts.

But what if we could "re-do", rewind, fix a mistake or otherwise change reality? No more guess work. No more ruminating on what the future holds. No more struggles or challenges. No more wanting or needing.

With the point of a finger or the touch of a hand, we'd have whatever we wanted.

But then (sigh!) that'd no longer be called Life as we know it. Instead, that'd be some strange, sci-fi, other-worldly existence where nothing is real.

If we got or took all that we wanted, there would be no more need to strive or achieve. No more dreams or goals.

What then? Imagine!

Coming Soon!

Hooray! Another feather in Portland's green cap! Coming soon to all residents: new roll-out recycling carts!

No more schlepping heavy bins; no more extra containers to separate items.

With these carts, a new program also begins: co-mingling paper, plastic and metal. In turn, this will require less sorting, which hopefully will compel more people to send their refuse to the curb than to the landfill.

Ever since Portland included scrap paper into its recycling program, our house generates so little actual garbage that we require only once-a-month service.

By recycling glass, tin cans, newspapers, magazines and scrap paper like junk mail and by composting food scraps, at the end of the day, there is very little garbage left.

Still, even though our neighbors use recycle bins, all have weekly garbage service. No surprise: we are not the norm.
But I always wonder, "what else is there to throw away?"

Okay: Disposable diapers, kitty litter, tissue and paper towels. What else?

At any rate, the old bumper sticker says it best: "If you're not recycling, you're throwing it all away!"

Amen!

How does your garden grow?

Gardening--one of life's greatest stress relievers! There's nothing quite like putting your hands in the soil to feel closer to the Earth, to let your cares melt away.

I read something amusing recently by a garden journalist who said, "You can tell a lot about people by the gardens they keep. In other words, a tight-ass person is going to have a tight-ass garden."

Ha! I couldn't believe it! There it was, in black and white: what I always believed, although I came by my philosophy differently. One look at my jungle, er, I mean, garden, one might surmise I am a tad untidy.

And perhaps one might be right. You know what they say about creative minds.

Soooo, I keep my garden as I do my hair: a bit unkempt and sometimes tangled but, like my plants, it flies free in the wind when I wear it loose. Yeah, kinda like me.

One thing's for sure: judging by my jungle, it's easy to see: I am not a tight ass!

And I wouldn't have it any other way!