things around the new neighborhood (north seattle)

I know I am nowhere near as convincing as Amazon when it comes to the nicer things in life for a Seattlite, but we just signed a couple year lease at our new place and I thought I'd share a couple reasons why:

Richmond Beach Park has beautiful trails and beach
access... but barely a close second to Lincoln Park

There are lots of close parks and walking paths
to chose from

There are so many interesting trees and plants
growing in the neighborhood -- I like to snap
pictures while out for a walk 

A school in the neighborhood has this tree whose
branches are obscenely burdened by thousands of
itsy-bitsy tiny apples. 

Found this guy outside the window of our
workroom one Fall morning.

the end of my winter blues

May & June were difficult months. Not only was there wrapping up at work for my surgery and recovery, there was also the anniversary of Tiffy's death and family difficulties and traumas surrounding it. Through it all, summer has been creeping slowly up on us, until we are suddenly basking in 70 degree weather and wading through lush, flowering yards -- just in time for me to return to work.

"Late Autumn" with Hyun Bin,
filmed in Seattle, WA

The surgery went very well this time.  Less pain, less recovery time, less time on crutches and, therefore, less grumpy me. I was even escorted out by Johnny and my fellow drama-watching co-worker to see a Korean movie, Late Autumn, at the Seattle International Film Festival two weeks after the surgery, with my pimp cane. The movie was, not surprisingly, a little oppressive and sad. A little slice of life, per se. Only... for those exceedingly unlucky.

Mary's wedding to John's younger brother is approaching fast. It's not often that one is lucky enough to have your best friend marrying into your family. But trying to prepare for the bestest-ever bachelorette party is sooooo outside my realm of experience it's not even funny. We've got three minds working on it, and fingers and toes crossed.

So it's really late, but I did want to share some pictures of the house that I've been capturing. We had no idea how the yard--which was bleak and muddy when we started renting the house--would bloom in the spring sun. We just resigned ourselves to it not being anything to write home about.

Depressing, ain't it?

A couple months later...

But through the last couple months, we've watched it bloom into a peaceful, pleasant place. We were happy to discover that we have a lilac tree, just off our porch, and the huge tree on the corner of the lot is a Horse Chestnut, which rivals all other trees in the neighborhood for sheet immensity. A million flowers came up in a flower bed (middle picture, above) that we thought was just an ugly rock dump!

Our bench needs a little tender care...

new frontiers

Pretty neat

It has been fairly calm, snow-wise, here in Seattle during the winter of 2011.  With one notable exception, we had just a few short snowfalls that resulted in less-than-impressive coverage, as pictured here.  A month or more ago, walking the half-mile home to the new house after spending a day cleaning the old one we'd just vacated, John took this picture because he thought the blue shadow was pretty neat.

But this post is about the notable exception. 

~ * ~

Late February, I had to travel from Seattle to Portland, Oregon for a big meeting at a client.  Having flown from Seattle to Portland previously, my -0- positive memories about this experience, coupled with the newly minted threat of TSA jokes, cemented my belief that the 3 hours it would take to drive it had to be a better choice.  After all, it would take just as long to fly down as to drive it, if you take into account the time wasted at the airport, the unpleasant experience of rising to altitude only to spend 5 minutes there prior to the nausea-inducing decline, followed by another airport...  Driving was the clear choice for this seasoned, corporate traveler.

Of course, it happened that we were supposed to get the snowstorm of the year -- of several years -- the night I drove down. 

This is a dramatization based on true events, captured by real people
that are not me, and are not actors.  Please do not sue me.

Just so it's out there, not going was not an option.  I'm not suicidal, just... employment during recessions is a good thing. 

John, worried that I might get stuck somewhere alone along the highway, thought it would be a good idea to send Mae, our just-turned-16-year-old daughter, along for the ride.  Perhaps he thought it would be good if I had someone to eat if we got stuck on the side of the highway long enough.  Or vise versa.  Regardless, it was the first road trip Mae and I had ever had alone together, and it sounded kind of fun, so we filled the rental car with Monster energy drink, artery-clogging pastries and nuts (all guaranteed to taste better than skinny teenagers or juicy and tender mothers), and took off.  We listened to some music, had some mother-daughter chats, endured a white-knuckled 10 minutes worth of driving snow in our face, and then coasted in the clear to our hotel in Portland.

I worked late into the night at the hotel, preparing for the meeting the next day while Mae lounged around, watching TV and consuming 250 calories after 725 calories. A typical night. And in the morning, when I realized that the noon hotel check-out would not allow me to leave my teenager wallowing around in her PJed glory while I attended my full day meeting, I had a small melt-down, eventually found her a mall to amuse herself at, and toddled off to work.

As things would have it, Buddha, God and probably a fairy, too, were playing with us. It might have just been the weathermen, but let's be real; when have they ever gotten it right?  I heard it all day long, from every stressed business woman and man I ran into; the big storm, the real storm, the perfect storm, was coming tonight. Not last night.... tonight.  And a new, young co-worker of mine, who had chosen (badly, may I say?) to fly down from Seattle to attend the meeting, apparently decided she didn't want to fly back in the perfect storm, and begged a ride home from me in my wittle bitty rental. 

With my teenage daughter. Who hasn't found a single corporate person that she couldn't shock.

"Hahahahahaha... sure, that'd be fine! Hahahahahaha."  <-- nervous laughter

At 5:15 pm, my co-worker (let's call her Neo) and I drove over to pick Mae up from the mall on our way out of town, stopping only long enough to grab some Venti coffees and energy drinks from the corner Starbucks. I was a little preoccupied with thoughts of Mae saying something really shocking in front of Neo that I wouldn't be able to live down at work (because let's face it, teenagers can always come up with something shocking, and Mae x3) while trying to respond appropriately to Neo's chatter during the first forty-five minutes.  I had developed a new respect for her ability to talk non-stop for those 45 minutes, with barely a pause to sip from her coffee, when she switched momentarily to her cell, releasing me from the polite bondage of corporate connectivity. My respect grew to a fearful awe when it passed the hour and fifteen minute+ mark.  I re-visited the wisdom of actually allowing her to consume energy drinks, and realized that living with the intensely introverted John had mutated me into something of an introvert myself, and if I was really going to be trapped into this car for another two hours, I just might...  at which point I was gratefully distracted by an incoming blizzard. 

It started out much like last night, but quickly went from bad to worse. I couldn't take any pictures because 1.) my cell phone was out of battery, and 2.) I was driving and legitimately afraid to take my hands off the steering wheel, and 3.) Mae's cell was on its laaaaaast itty bitty legs, thanks to her bout at the mall, and I had sternly warned her to keep it off so that when we ran off the road we could call 911, and 4.) Neo was busy wasting her cell battery freaking out to someone about how scary this all was so that when we finally ran off the road, we would only have Mae's itty bitty battery on which to call 911.  However, I have endeavored to steal the following photos as a representation, to attempt to describe the experience for you. Bear with me.

Imagine this:

Lonely road (called I5 north, sure, but it's lonely when you can't see anything on the sides!)

Only it's dark!:

Like this

And it's blizzarding like crazy, so you can barely see a thing, and have to drive 2 miles an hour in a straight line behind the car right in front of you, so you don't accidentally drive right off the road:

Like this, only dark! With driving snow!

Until the crazy truck-drivers who think they are God drive up around you, going a psycho 30-miles an hour and sometimes failing, and you curse and laugh at them. And eventually you realize that there is a huge mass of semis all around you, everywhere, taking over the road and going nowhere. And then you look in your rear view mirror, and watch this big Ford truck, right behind you, just start sliiiiiiiiiding... sliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiding sideways, into another car.  And then you slam on the brakes because you were so fascinated with the slow slide of doom in your rear view mirror that you almost managed to run into the car in front of you, going 2 miles an hour. And you sliiiiiiiiiide just a bit, but at 2 miles an hour, you were one of the luckiest bastards on the road, and not only do you not hit the car in front of you, but you also manage to get moving again, which is a goddamn miracle.

Neo, of course, has not stopped talking yet. And she has something really freaked out, but tempered by inbred corporate politeness, to say about that near miss. I blocked it out.

After a short while, it looks like this, only many, many more semis, a lot darker, a little less snow on the road and a lot more snow coming down, faster than you can imagine:

Freaky, huh?!

Then all the coffee and energy drinks Mae just inhaled hit, and she interrupts Neo's monologue to beg me to pull over so she can pee. 

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA (I say.) I am very, very sorry to say this, but if I pull over, if I stop, we will never get started again! We are going 2 miles an hour, and if I go 3 miles an hour we'll slide off the road, and if I go 1 mile an hour, I'll either be ruthlessly run over by the truck going 2 miles an hour behind us, or we'll stall, and never get moving again. We'll have to eat whoever dies first to survive until the end of this apocalypse. There are no exits for another hour, at this pace, and even if we were right next to one, I couldn't possibly drive this American-made, generic rental car with no snow chains down the ramp without, again, getting stuck! 

So I'll just piss in this bottle, then (she says.)

WHAM.  There it is, the first shocker. Sadly, she's dead serious so I can't even laugh it off like she's joking.  That's okay, I just have to work with Neo every day, no biggie. I sternly declare her dead if she pisses in the bottle.

Then I'll just roll down the window and pee. No one can see anything! I really have to peeeeeeee!!

oh
my
gawd

If my sister was sitting beside me, this would be funny. In fact, I would be rolling on the ground laughing. But it's not my sister.

Like, just, stick your ass out the window and pee?!!

Yes!

I sternly declare her dead if she touches the window control. More nervous laughter is called for. Ha Ha Ha, those teenagers, where do they get it? (Will she think Mae learned that from me, that I modeled sticking my ass out of a moving car, mooning the freeway and peeing out of a moving car?)

At this point, we've approached the two-hour mark on our supposedly three-hour trip home, and the GPS says we have two more hours ahead of us. At 2 miles an hour, I think it's lying, and even Neo is faltering between breaths.  I finally confess that, since Mae and my cell phones are basically dead, and considering that jack-knifing semi right in front of us, maybe she should conserve her cell phone battery, to save me the ignominy of having to eat her.  She looked horrified, but geez, it's not like I drove off merrily into a blizzard without a working cell phone on purpose.

A little bit like this, only with a LOT more snow,
and no side rails  >.<

Speaking of that jack-knifing semi, it was the most hair-raising moment of the evening.  It was right in front of us when it went into its slow-motion, cringe-inducing kink, twisting sideways across all four lanes of the freeway. The only way around that truck was edging off the road, into the morass of tall, pristine snow climbing higher as we watched. But if I didn't get us around that truck, we would be stuck there on the road all night. Literally, all night, because there was no help coming... stuck in the car, because it was a blizzard out there and too cold to get out... and who knew how long until we were rescued, since we'd already passed dozens of cars and semis run off the road... No. No matter what, I couldn't let that happen. I was a desparate woman. 

Without a pause, I aimed for the side of the freeway, into all that snow.  There were no tire tracks in which to safely follow, and it was not a quick, smooth or pretty trip. I barely scrapped passed the front bumper of the semi, and Neo squealed. Mae... well, it's hard to impress a teenager.

Anyway, I did it. I got us around the semi, blazing the way for all cars stuck behind me, and was now forging a new trail.  There with no other cars ahead of us. It was eerie, and freaky. I was not impressed, especially when another truck driver went flying past at 15 miles an hour, taking everyone's lives into their stupid hands! Craziness, I tell you.

It went on for a long time like that. I eventually made it up to 5, 10 and then finished out the blizzard at around 30 miles an hour.  It was a wild ride... a five hour, wild ride.  Mae finally got her bathroom, two hours after her threat to bare her ass to the snow faeries.  And by then, I too was deeply regretting my two energy drinks. 

Once in Seattle, it was clear except -- of course -- for rain.  At approximately 11 pm, we dropped Neo off at her car and Mae climbed into the front seat. When I looked over at her, her eyes got really wide, and her hand raised, flapping in the universal sign for talking. We both burst into laughter. Neo had managed to find something to talk about for 5 hours straight. It's a gift, and we had never seen the like. We were tired, and in shock.  Since I had to work again the next morning, I pointed my trusty little rental car toward home, with a sigh.

Mother-daughter bonding... everyone need not apply.

late broadcast of winterland

Dusting of snow

Gotta be careful going down those stairs...

The neighborhood 'creepy tree' again

better to light a candle...

It's a perfect day to hole up at home and work by candle-light. Watch the winds whip the trees around outside the window, and feel relief that you didn't try to wade out into that this morning. Listen to some Sinatra, and turn it up loud enough to drown out Family Guy in the background.







"Better to light a candle than to curse the darkness."
Chinese proverb

stormy pacific northwest

This morning was epic gorgeous. I am not a lover of the cold weather, and dread every fall season I watch creeping up on me. But this morning I felt shockingly cheerful about the coming winter as I walked down the downtown Seattle sidewalk. It was raining yellow and orange maple leaves, all spiked and twirly, in great numbers. There was a stiff breeze, coming up behind me from the water, whipping my skirts about my legs. Since I was snug and cozy (in my thick tights, bloomers, skirt, coat, scarf & gloves and finally--most importantly--my big white fur hat that wraps all around my head and ears and ties under my chin), I felt the strength of the wind without the bite, that exhilarating "I'm lighter than air!" feeling without the usual "Grrrrr, and fucking freezing, too!" So I tripped lightly up the sidewalk, bundled tight and safe, and smiled like a dummy in the face of the advancing Hell that is winter.

I can't feel it swaying, here on the 19th floor, but I can hear the wind in the steady creaking of the ceiling tiles at my office, and in the stiff, subtle shuddering of the windows behind me. The waves behind the Pike Place Market are peaked and choppy. The clouds are racing across the sky, and are never the same color or shape the next time I look back.

I can't wait to go home and light a couple candles on my dinner table. Right before sitting down and diving back into work... :(

i miss summer

“Between our birth and death we may touch understanding, As a moth brushes a window with its wing”
Christopher Fry




“The moth's kiss, first!
Kiss me as if you made believe
You were not sure, this eve,
How my face, your flower, had pursed
Its petals up.”
Robert Browning

it was 12.2 degrees this morning

Nothing short of a massage on my hip would induce me out during lunch break...



By the time I'm done shedding layers, my hour will be up. Damnit.

global warming makes ninjas of us all

This morning, I slunk down the street to the bus swaddled to the eyes against 17 degree crystal-clear hell. I took a note from my brother T. and executed a Ninja-Arctic-Suspension move, as pictured -->
You can't see me. I am not even here.

In fact, I looked just

like this, nah-ha.

I lived to tell the tale, despite the suspicious looks of bus-riders and building security. I have made it; I am in the building. The weather will determine whether I leave it again this evening or not.

What the hell is with weather in the teens in the Pacific Northwest? This is bullshit. Grr.

Speaking of ninjas and doing good and saving the world, (which we were, yes) check this out. Patrick Rothfuss, author of the wonderful world I like to visit called The Name of the Wind, is offering some really cool prizes to help raise some money for Heifer International. If you are unlike me and have anything to spare after the economy stopped treading on you, check out the amazing things you could win by helping him hit his goal.

And also speaking of ninjas, I am not one. A real ninja would not only have seen that truck coming (which I did), she would have successfully dodged it (which I did not). So I admit freely that I failed it; wanna-be ninj-ette, that's me. The result of which is apparently a spinal lumbar disc injury, which is "incurable", as well as a potential hip labral tear.

All kidding aside, stop reading here if you don't feel like reading protracted whining and complaining.

I thought I was disgruntled about the lumbar disk injury. I mean, the chiropractor says it's incurable, and the best I can hope for is that (with daily exercises and hanging-upside-down-in-strange-traction-thingies, pictured to the left) I will be 'asymptomatic'. But if I fail in doing these daily, time-consuming and vertigo-inducing exercises, then I will be 'symptomatic' and in great pain. By which I mean so much as a cough will send a spasm of significant pain through my lower back. I'm 32! And I walk and sit and sleep like I'm in my 50s or 60s.

But after reading up some on this hip labral tear, I'm upset in a whole new, I-see-needles-and-pain-and squick-in-my-future kinda way. I've been dealing with this worsening pain in my groin area that kept me from rotating my right leg outward or inward. As this article states:

Typical symptoms of a hip labral tear include:

• Groin pain
• Clicking and snapping sensations in the hip
• Limited motion of the hip joint

I got all those, baby. Sprawling in bed is impossible for me--I have to lay very carefully with my legs stretched straight, because though I can lift my leg straight up all I want, the second I let my foot flop outward or inward, or shift as though I'm going to turn right, or try to cross my right leg over my left? yeeee-OUCH! (There's that clicking and snapping sensation.) Trying to tickle my son is increasingly out of the question. So is shifting every day to get out of the bus seat, crossing my legs in a business meeting, leaning down to fetch something from under my desk and last but not least, sleeping. I cannot even search subconsciously for a comfortable position without being jerked awake from a jolt of pain. And the worst part? I've been mentioning this to my chiropractors for months, and they only started taking me seriously about 3 weeks ago... 5 and a half after the accident. And only then because I threatened to go to my regular doctor because I was in so much pain.

But enough of whining. I've reached my tolerance quota for the day. I need distraction.

hibernation

Tuesday the turtle has begun the long process of readying himself for hibernation for the upcoming winter, and I can't say I don't understand the impulse. I wasn't ready for fall to come so soon.

For your listening pleasure, found in affiliation with U People:

weekend stroll around the house

Celebrating my 50th post on this blog with the results of a weekend stroll around my house at sunset.

The pinecones are glistening with sap

The beginning of sunset reflected in the garage door window
Roses and rose hips
Brassy glads

Modern day sunset with power lines despoiling the view

I am continually surprised by how much I've come to love living on the Sound, in the short time I've been here. This is something you'll never catch me saying during the 9 months of winter per year. But for 3 months--here I am, loving it.

summertime

It's summer... summer, summer, summer. You won't see much of me during this time of year--I prefer to be out and about in the sun, while I can. My physician diagnosed me as deficient in vitamin D, which is--ha!--a fact of life for pretty much every person in the Pacific Northwest. We simply don't get enough sun. So when we do, I love it.

I am apparently alone in my sun-worship.

Bento box + bonus fan service
We had weather a couple weeks ago ranging between the 80's - 90's, topping off a day or two at 100+ degrees. Stuck in a bus full of people who consider the 80's too hot, without any air-conditioning, and it's too much. Granted. :) But overall, I've loved it.

I keep including pictures of my bento boxes, packed in the morning for me by my husband, because they're pretty, it amuses me and I like to brag about how he spoils me. Because he's good at that. :) But more than his cooking and compulsive nurturing, I love his mind. You can find his insightful political posts here, under "John Lindsey."

As for Obama's "Bold Action" (as pictured above), I have to go on record with my disappointment in the lack thereof just now. The White House's waffling on the subject of a public option is terribly disheartening. Without a viable public option, this is not any kind of "Health care Reform", it's just a waste of every one's time, money and general indignation. Health care is a right, not a privilege. I thought I was done being embarrassed to be an American when Obama was elected, but it's aaaallll coming back to me now.

Can we do something right, something for the people, with this democracy? Just look at the polls. People want health care reform, they want health care, period! Why does the democracy apply only to companies-registered-as-people, and not the people-who-are-people? Where did we go wrong? Because this is wrong. Democracy is fueled by what what the people want, and the people want health care reform, not to protect the insurance company's bankroll. Democracy that actually provides the people with what they're asking for is being incorrectly-and-intentionally mislabeled as socialism by people who don't have your best interests at heart, and they're getting away with it.

How? Why?

The last heels of winter dragging by...

Get on now. It's almost June, my gawd.

Cherry blossoms are gone for the year

I found this house (right) on a walk with my family to the neighborhood corner coffee shop. I do hope they don't mind that I took this picture of their oasis of sakura blossoms littering the walkway to their door. This picture doesn't do justice to the intense pink that covered every inch under these cherry trees (click on all pictures for a larger view.) I am absolutely green with envy and lust.

I just wish the blossoms lasted a little longer than they do; a week or two, and they're on their way to being a sweet dream of the past. Having to wait a whole year for a repeat performance makes it all the more bittersweet.

Speaking of cherry trees, a neighbor of ours has the largest rock cherry tree I've never seen before (left and below), bordering our yard. The branches overhang our old fashioned garage out back, and litter the roof and our driveway with white cherry blossoms every spring. Our back yard is aswirl with fluttering petals. Then the birds go nuts on the cherries, squabbling drunkenly.

Just about a month ago while my husband and I lounged around on our back deck drinking after dark, two raccoons had a screeching, snarling fight up in that tree before one was summarily evicted by way of falling about 10 feet onto my neighbor's concrete walkway. I stood staring in horror (that was a loud splat!) until I saw a dark shape waddling irritably away. Tough little guys.

Food to brighten my overcast day

My husband made me a beautiful bento box this morning; especially sweet because he's been so tired. We're doing upkeep on the house; door jams cemented, painting old cupboards, replacing light switches and deck stairs of abnormal dimensions [according to Home De(s)pot. Is 11 x 3 1/4th x 41" really an obscene amount of wood 'in this day and age'?]

So much for spring. Wind storms, white overcast, stormy mulch. All the flower petals I tread on walking to the bus in the morning used to adorn the trees over my head, but now are all beaten down. I hold hope for the (apparently) rugged Dogwood; they're still blooming, and holding on.