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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).

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where ya been?

Tightening.Good for Friday.

This week at work I had two employees tell me, without first speaking to each other, that I seem “stressed” or “distant” and haven’t been acting myself lately.

Sure work’s been busy lately, and I’m adjusting to some changes in my team; having the count of those who work for me increase some 60% has forced me to realize I’ll need to alter my style.

Even still, I think I’ve been the same as ever.

So…

That was depressing.

So come on three-day weekend.

Goodnight.

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it’s good being here now

moonJust you and me and the white moon in the sky above tonight.

Just you and me and this hammock and the kinda-wet grass that’s got my feet damp and chilly in the breeze of our sway.  Everyone else gone home and our family sleeping; we still got this moon and this black sky and this clean-smelling air and each other.

It’s good being here now.

It’s better that we fit tight; makes it feel like my tongues are meant for your grooves and your tenons were made for my mortises.  This string binds up our arms and legs and hangs us under the stars and the moon like trussed game.  Even though your hair tickles my nose and my whiskers poke at your cheek, they’re good tickles and pokes.

So I’ll just breathe and stare and you’ll just stare and breathe and that’ll be enough.  The cricket and frog olde-tyme chorus will cheer us in our cocoon, and even the little invisible bugs alighting on our arms and legs won’t be uninvited.

Collaborating together on nothing, and busy letting the Earth spin despite our collective indifference, I’ll be here for a while if you’ll be here for a while; OK?

But really, have you ever looked at the shape of your own hips?  They have this kind of ideal bend to them, some perfect curve maybe based on that one magic ratio they taught me about in math class.  You know, the number you can find in pinecones and sunflowers and nautilus shells – also maybe in the arc of your hips.

I’ma trace that line with my finger and pretend I’m the Lord God with a sketchpad.

So let’s just swing here for a few more minutes; the stress of today is nearly erased from my mind and that’s nice.  It’s really good being here now.

Goodnight.

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fancy reading

Reef JamGood evening internet denizens.  Fancy reading a blog?  Gonna be all over the place, I fear.

Outside, the light is failing.  I can see the soft gray of the sky through the two massive trellis-climbing plants I bought a month or so ago.  I had the new landscape guy actually put them in the ground for me, the sixty gallon pots and prospect of digging in this rocky soil just put me off.  I think he charged me $30 for the labor.  $30… and I swallowed easy.

With regard to spending money for things I could do myself, I still trend miserly… but ever more I catch myself mentally “billing out” my time.  Like when I considered planting those big trellis plants through which I’m now watching the sky darken in the half-light of dusk: I could have easily planted them.  Could’ve dug the two massive holes, churning through rocks upon rocks.  Maybe it would’ve taken me an hour, maybe an hour and a half.  In my head though, I still calculating what I think that hour and a half is worth to me… how many hard-earned dollars I’d consider a “good trade” for spending it playing with Keaton or reading a book.  And, in the end, the “pay the man” attitude won out this time.

Strange, but for some reason this makes me feel old.

We’ve got the windows open tonight; the 100°+ temperatures of the weekend have given way to milder days and even milder overnights. And, since Sharaun’s in the process of putting Keaton down, I managed to switch of the TV and put on some music instead.  Some long drawn-out County Joe & the Fish jam is playing, and it actually sounds really good.  Y’know, there can be good long jams, the kind that keep you excited and pace well, and there can be bad long jams.  Even the best jam bands are guilty of the occasional stinker of a twenty minute “Dancing In the Street,” after all.

Gosh guys, I have nothing.  It’s like 11 o’clock and I have nothing.  Goodnight.