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spinning in love

One day maybe.Hi.

Before going to bed last night I told Sharaun I had today figured for a harrying one at the sawmill.  With last week shot to time in Oregon and the subsequent game of catch-up, and Monday’s Yosemite weekend extension absence, I knew I’d face an avalanche neglected and undone work.  I was right; but it was one of those good-feeling busy days, where you end up leaving feeling more productive than overwrought.

After work I made a brief stopover at a local watering hole to have an (informal) “after hours” business meeting with some of the other shirts.  Sometimes those suds-and-appetizer ad-hoc meetings are the best for real conversation… and the unstated rule of confidentiality that disclaims all bar-talk certainly helps.  Anyway, thirty minutes past five and I was home… unfortunately with a bellyful of bad-for-me pub food and not much interested in the healthier pasta dish Sharaun had prepared for me (I’m scheduled on the “Bad Husbands” episode of Springer next month).

Once at home, I found Keaton especially animated and talkative, and had the wherewithal to grab the camera and roll film as she started to tell me about her plans for “falling in love.”  So then, since I recorded it I figured I’d spend ten minutes editing it and slapping a title on it so I could properly share it with the internet.  Here, then, is Keaton talking about “falling in love”:

[flv:https://blog.pharaohweb.com/video/spinning_in_love.flv 320 240]

Interesting notions on love and marriage, Keaton.  Glad you could be here to share with the sounds familiar audience today.

And now, changing subjects: The Ford continues to lumber along while she awaits a merciful death at the hands of the Obama administration’s “Cash for Clunkers” plan.  A goverment-connected friend of mine keeps me informed on the progress of the various legislative efforts around this initiative which are snaking their way through Congress.  In a good sign, the House today passed their version of the bill.  A good sign, to be sure, but I’m still reserving all-out excitement for final language and voting.

Oh before I go, I heard a joke I liked today.  Q: How many hipsters does it take to screw in a light bulb?  A: It’s a really obscure number; you’ve probably never heard of it.

And that, my friends, is the end of the blog for Tuesday.  Goodnight.

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back to reality

We made it.Monday night and sore.

Back from Yosemite, and with Monday as vacation it’ll be another abbreviated workweek.  And, due to some scheduling oversight (or not, I forget) we’re off camping again this weekend.  It’s cool; although I do miss having a weekend at home to actually do some things (or no things, for that matter).

The trip was fantastic.  The Sunday Half Dome hike turned out better than I could’ve hoped.  The weather was amazing, the trail wasn’t overcrowded, and I felt great the whole way.  We got a late start, arriving at the trailhead about a quarter to seven in the morning.  The crew made good time for the first seven or so miles, bringing us all from the valley floor at about ~4,000ft to above the treeline at about ~7,800ft to the east of Half Dome on the famous trail.  At that point, some threatening clouds had begun to ring the valley, hanging above the granite walls that rim it, and there was an increasing amount of separation amongst the crew.

Worried at the weather, and with Mike and I still feeling relatively fresh and strong, we made the selfish decision to push hard for the summit and leave the other three behind.  I felt a little bad about it, but we tackled the exposed part of the hike to the saddle before the cable-climb with such vigor that the thought soon left my mind for the burning in my calves.  We had agreed that we’d make a gametime decision at the base of the cables, based on how the clouds looked – and, when the time came we opted to go.

The cables were crowded and the ascent took much, much longer than I’d have liked.  Without having to hold up for all the slowpokes and panickers, I really do think Mike and I could’ve pressed to the summit in fifteen or twenty minutes; but, as it was it took us more like forty to get to the top. Once there we ate the Lunchables I’d hiked up to refuel, took a couple pictures, and rested just a bit before heading back down.  After another twenty minutes waiting in the queue heading down we were on the granite steps again and, before too long, on our way out.

All told the ~17mi trip took ten hours, and I haven’t felt physically better on a long hike, ever.  My legs were fresh longer than ever before, and, even though I started to crash at one point on the descent I was able to pull out of it with a Cliff bar and some good conversation.  Mentally, I like to attribute this to my new weight loss and increased stamina – but that makes me feel somehow arrogant.  But, it sure did empower me along the way.

I love that hike.

And, as for the non-hike part of the trip – we had a great time with friends.  Our little tent cabin in the valley was cozy and the camp meals were delicious as always.  In fact, the post-hike pizza and beer were about as fine a meal as I can recall having in any recent time.  Keaton had a blast playing with Gracie and even got to do a hike of her own the day we did Half Dome: All the way to the Vernal Falls footbridge (which is, honestly, quite the accomplishment for four women, two three year-old girls, and an infant).

So yeah, Yosemite was great.  I’ll post some pictures soon (including a long-overdue update covering the last few months – I promise).  And now, back to work tomorrow and I don’t want to go.

I don’t want to go.  Goodnight.

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weekget endaway

Cables.Hey guys. Sorry the week ended empty around here last week; we made it home safe from Oregon (but not without a little drama) and the evenings robbed me of writing time.

The return trip from Oregon almost wasn’t.

When I bought the tickets for our trip, I recall debating between coming home Wednesday evening or Thursday morning. And as our week up north progressed, I had all the while been remembering the Thursday morning flight. Come to find out, as serendipitously checked our itinerary Wednesday morning around 8am, that I was wrong and I’d booked the flight that evening. Crap.

Text messages and e-mails flew from the iPhone in a fury: Sharaun; we leave today, not tomorrow. Things were arranged; rides from the airport, packing, rides to the airport, rides from work to my folks’ place. Everything was planned and trimmed and faded just right. Then my dad had to go to the hospital unexpectedly (everything’s fine, just unplanned), and our shiny new plans began to unravel. The carseat was in his car; he was our ride to the airport; the car was what Sharaun was going to use to pick me up from work.

In the end, a buddy ducked out of our meeting early to give me a ride to the house; we had to abandon all hope of getting the carseat if we wanted to make our flight; and we had to make a hail Mary run for the airport train to beat the check-in and boarding deadline.

Thankfuly we were able to arrange a last minute pickup at the airport (from a picker-upper who was able to score a loaner carseat so we could be a road-legal family), and my folks are graciously shipping our seat back to us.

Harrowing, to be sure. But; we got home.

And, at home…

Thursday as I rounded the last corner on the way home from work, the steering wheel on the Ford locked up tight; turning became a test of all my arm strength. Somehow, I’d lost all power steering, and it was like trying to turn the wheels in wet cement. Fearing that Rusbuqeutte, the patron saint of junkyard cars, had abaondoned me, I muscled the aging beast through the last couple turns and into our garage. Lately, one of my biggest fears is that the Ford will give up the ghost just prior to me being able to take advantage of the new legislation I’ve been waiting on (need context?).

I shuttered as I shut off the car; could this be a game-ender for my intended endgame? Would I make out with the handout or wind up empty-handed? (Anyone see the effort here?)

Anyway, I topped off the power steering fluid on Friday (after a Keystone Cops style morning trying to get to work on time) and the beast sprang back to full loosey-goosey steerability. So, all is not lost. And, with each new failing I can’t help but think I should take my buddy Jeff’s advice and retire the thing now – only to drive it one last time: Up to the dealership to collect my cash-for-clunkers dosh and my new wheels.

We’ll see, I s’psose.

And, this weekend we’re running away to Yosemite and staying in the valley. I love going to Yosemite; it’s one of my all-time favorite destinations. We have three days this time (give or take accounting for travel), with one of them deducted to the “extremely strenuous” Half Dome day-summit – hence today’s accompanying picture.

I’ve done it before, but never in the marathon up-and-back, seventeen mile, leave in the dark return in the dark format. Here’s hoping for a not-too-crowded ascent of the cables, and a safe summit and return.

Wish me luck; goodnight.

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rainwalking

Driplets.Going on Wednesday here in Oregon (I write these the night before I post them, for those who either don’t know or have never been here before).  How you guys doin’?

Despite my best efforts to dodge it, I was sucked into a “working dinner” after our all-day meeting today.  Dragged, kicking and screaming, to a nice seafood place down on the docks, set about fifty feet out into the flow of the Columbia river.

I walked the dock in the bright sunshine, had a couple beers did some priceless networking, and had some great local seafood.  So, even though I really wanted to head home and hang with Sharaun and Keaton and Mom and Dad instead… I think it worked out OK, everything considered.

Today I took public transit to work.  I’ve written before about how I enjoy riding the public transportation here in Oregon; they have such a well-run network of light-rail, buses, and trains, and the whole process is so easy and cheap.  Makes a body feel all “green” just staying off the road, and affords one some time to listen to tunes and people-watch to boot.

This morning, my route included a short train ride and then a transfer to a bus before a brief walk to my final destination.  As I left the bus, the skies were grey and, despite the sun and blue skies we’ve had ever since getting here, the clouds opened up for a few scant moments and dropped a light rain on me as I walked.  For a moment I paused under a leafy tree to escape the drops, but soon realized it wasn’t much shelter at all… and, after all, I had a schedule to keep.

So, here I was: Dressed to the nines with intent to impress, walking along the side of a busy highway onramp (no sidewalk, mind you, so I was in the shoulder), laptop slung over my shoulder and the rain making dark blotches on my new brown leather shoes even as it slicked my hair.  In the cans, one of my favorite songs of all time shuffled up: Buffalo Springfield’s Hung Upside Down.  A Stills track from their 1967 sophomore effort, it just fit the early-morning rain-walk moment so well.

For me, the song conjures up precious memories of middle school, and those recalled emotions fit perfect with the odd sense of solitude-amongst-busyness that walking alone amidst heavy morning traffic can give a guy.

There then; near an entire entry about walking down the road in the rain.  Just kinda happened.  I like it when it just kinda happens.  Goodnight.

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working? working.

Conference room?Monday from the Pacific Northwest; greetings.

Even though I traveled all these miles to work here in Oregon, we left Saturday so we could spend the weekend with my family.  And, since the work event I came here to participate in is two all-day sessions Tuesday and Wednesday, when it came to going into the office Monday morning… I opted instead to work from my folks’ kitchen table.  So, odd as it seems, I crossed state lines to telecommute.  Not bad.

As a Springtime telecommuting perk, I took my afternoon meeting while laying in the green grass at the park downtown.  Keaton was playing in the fountains and on the swings and I was reclined lookin’ nerdy with my headset and cellphone talking about electrons and alpha particles and current densities and inductance.  Sure, I looked like a tool, but it was actually a really nice experience.  I was able to get some appreciation for just how cool the non-constraints of my job are.

I mean, I’ve always known I have a “flexible” job – being that the bulk of the work I do is less tied to one physical location and more tied to being “connected” via phone, e-mail and instant-messaging.  So, really, were it not for the goodness I derive from being at the building – the job is relatively decoupled from my three-and-a-half gray fabric cubicle walls.  Me, though, I tend to be a lot more productive when I’m actually at work… so I don’t take advantage of telecommuting as much as some might. On days like today though, it was a pretty sweet bonus feature of my employ at the sawmill.

Tomorrow begins the first day of the all-day two-day meeting I traveled here for.  Located at a hotel instead of at the Oregon sawmill, it’ll be the familiar cast of characters gathered together to make decisions.  I enjoy meetings like this a lot, when there’s plenty of time for academic pursuits in attempt to figure out the best options and you have the chance to meet people in person you may have worked with for years upon years.  Plus, I feel more important when people ask my opinion on things (and I actually have one).  So… that’s good too.

OK, I’m outta here.

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the blog lay fallow

Can we grow again?Happy Monday from Portland, internet.

Boy did the blog lay fallow last week or what? As usual, I stutter-started several entries only to give up within the hour.

Y’know, it was a pretty mediocre week anyway: Work was busy and we did the same kind of things we always do. Saturday morning though, we took the short flight north to Oregon and are now enjoying the warm Springtime of the Pacific Northwest.

Today we played heathan and skipped church at the little congregation down the street that we visit when we’re here, and instead got an early start on the day’s planned activity: heading down to the river to a big carnival. We took the train down, Keaton always likes that, and arrived at really nice typical midway-and-rides setup.

Now, me, I have a lot of love for carnivals. For some reason, I really enjoy them. And it’s not just the “stuff” I enjoy, it’s the atmosphere. The smells: straw scattered on the ground, exhaust from ride motors, a myriad of fried foods. The sounds: a cacophony of barkers calling rubes to their games, the pssshhht! pssshhht! of the pneumatics, and the din of voices and music. It’s all fun to me, and being there I remember how much I used to enjoy it all as a kid.

And now, watching Keaton enjoy it lets me experience it all again. Keaton wasn’t quite tall enough to do the Ferris wheel with me, and I was a tad disappointed since I’d really wanted to do that together. But we did ride rides together, do the mirror-maze together, and eat bad-for-you foods together. All under a cloudless blue sky and hot bright sun. But, don’t take my words for it, have a look for yourself:

[nggallery id=26]

Looks almost as fun as it was!

Goodnight.

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worth every penny

Preciouser than my gadgets.Saturday night my iPhone and I went for a swim.

Well, not on purpose…

See, Keaton was sitting in a chair with her back to the pool, eating an apple.  We were at a poolside birthday party and the swimming part had ended with the sun going down, so I was out of my trunks and back into my shorts and t-shirt.  And, properly dressed, I also had my iPhone and wallet in my pocket.  The scene was set.

Playfully, I approached Keaton under the guise of the Tickle Monster, arms outstretched and growling slightly, fingers clenching and flexing just looking for some good ribmeat for ticklin’.  I remember her smiling as I approached, shrinking back into the chair, and sticking her feet out to push me away.  Only, Newton’s 3rd law says that, as much as little Keaton’s feet pushed me away from her, my thighs pushed back on them in equal proportion.

Yup: Her chair leaned back and toppled.  And, in a flash, I could see the chair sinking into the shallow end of the pool, and remember vividly seeing Keaton’s arms reaching wildly for the surface and her hair billowing in gravity-free plumes under the water.  Although it seemed like slow motion, my next awareness was being in the water.  As I grabbed her under the armpits and hoisted her above the surface, she had her mouth open and I could see bits of chewed apple inside.

She was crying, but not gulping or choking or gasping; I honestly don’t think she had enough time to even try to take a breath before I got to her, and that she likely held her breath that long on instinct alone.  She clung to me and dripped.

Sharaun was standing next to me in the water, I actually think she beat me into the pool (also fully clothed) but couldn’t get to Keaton for the chair.  Immediately after pulling her out of the water Sharaun wanted to take her from me and hold her.  Without thinking I passed her over, knowing already that she was fine (if a little shook up), and began climbing out of the pool.  Only then did I realize…

… the iPhone and wallet were still in my pockets.

I pulled out the phone and checked: dead.  In an attempt at playing humor for the watching folks, I chucked it into the grass in front of me – visually acknowledging its new uselessness.  In that moment, my thought was that my daughter was safe (if a bit wet) in the arms of my wife behind me – and a work-purchased iPhone was a small price to pay.  (Of course, in the next few days I’d try like crazy to resurrect the thing… fruitlessly, I might add.)

Monday I went down to the Apple store and got a new phone.  $199 later and I’m back up and running.

Worth every penny (not talking about the phone).