Category: All (-ish)

Turkey Trot

For the past few months I’ve been training for the Turkey Trot, the annual four-mile run at the Zoo. Turkey Trot day arrived clear and cold. I took the Yellow Line Max to Pioneer Square where I transferred to the Blue Line Max that would take me to Washington Park. It was about 6:30 in the morning and workers were lighting the holiday tree. But, strangely, other workers found it important to cut back wisteria too. I have no idea why.
Sunrise over parking lot full of people waiting for the start of the race and people waiting in line for the port-a-potties.

Self-portrait before the race starts.
The race started late (grrrr) so I had ample opportunity to contemplate these banners at the World Forestry Center. The middle one I get, it’s the logo. The right one I get, it’s a picture of a big tree. The one on the left I don’t get at all. What does a family white water rafting have to do with a forest? I guess they could be rafting through the forest, but it still seems an odd choice. If they wanted to show recreation in the forest why not some cross country skiers, or snow shoeing?
For those of you who have never had the pleasure of running the Turkey Trot, it’s a pretty “ugh” course. Two miles downhill, turn around and groan your way through the same two miles you just ran, but now they are two uphill miles. Once I started I thought to myself, “I do not, in any way, shape or form, feel like doing this right now.” But what could I do? Turn around and finish with the slick actual runners in their running shorts and with their 5 minute miles? Not really an option. I persevered, and eventually finished. Dispute the very uphill portion, I ran this faster than my usual Saturday long runs which happen on flat land. The Turkey Trot is a fun run, so I don’t have an official time, but the time I kept was 50:52 for four miles. I’m not a fast runner, though I do have designs.

The “I finished” self-portrait:
Then it was a quick walk to the parking lot where Mom whisked me away to the Thanksgiving celebrations. Though there was a bit of parking lot waiting before we could really “whisk.”

Les Aucoin Plaza

I picked up my race packet for the Turkey Trot today at the World Forestry Center and came across Les Aucoin Plaza. You can find it yourself by taking the Blue or Red line to the Washington Park stop and taking the elevator to the top. I wondered as I walked by, if Les Aucoin was a person, or a french name of something. It could go either way, so I took a picture to remind myself to check.
Ah. I see he was the first Democrat congressman to represent Oregon’s first congressional district since statehood. He also spells his name AuCoin. If the plaza sign wasn’t in all capital letters, that would be more obvious. He gets a plaza named after him because he and Mark Hatfield worked their congressional magic on the east and west side light rail lines. How lovely.

And now I know.

I finally turned the heat on.

I play this game every autumn. It’s the one where I wait as long as I possibly can before I turn the heat on in the evenings. I can make it fairly late in the calendar year because I tend to run a little warmer than other people and also I bundle up. Plus, my evenings are full of cooking dinner, cleaning up, etc. There is much movement until I settle down to read. At that point I can retreat under blankets until it is time to go to bed.

The heat has been on, mind you. That other person I live with isn’t quite as active when he is home, nor is he so much into the stoicism involved in playing the game. The difference between us is that I’m convinced, in some small way, that some day I will make it thorough the winter without turning on the heat. I think of the pioneers, or even people at the turn of the century, who really had to work to get their heat. Surely they wouldn’t stoop to turning on the heat on such a comparatively warm night? Whereas Matt would rather be comfortable. So weekends, when we are both home, have been pretty warm. Comparatively. Our heat is usually set to 60 degrees. But weeknights it is just me and I regret to report that tonight was the night that I couldn’t stand the cold any longer.

Frances Hodgson Burnett

The Writer’s Almanac tells me that today is Frances Hodgson Burnett’s birthday. There was an essay about her life at the beginning of the Annotated Secret Garden and I learned what an incredibly interesting woman she was. Aside from being a Scorpio (like myself) she also published her first story at 18 and thereafter never had a rejection slip. She was incredibly popular and though we know her most for The Secret Garden–although my favorite is The Little Princess–she primarily wrote novels for adults.

She suffered tragedy in her life but she just kept going. Many of the discussions about “Magic” in Secret Garden reflect her life attitude which I would summarize as one part “power of positive thinking,” one part hard work, and one part mysticism.

17 ways to live happily…parting words.

Be happy with what you earn, but always look out for ways to earn more.

Remember Suze Ormand’s clients, who would be happy with only $500.00 more per month? All of these suggestions are meant to get you thinking about how you could live happily with what you have. That’s not to say that you shouldn’t leave yourself open to one day earning more. And when you do earn more, you can apply what you are learning now, so your money can stretch even further. Then you can live enthusiastically on what you have.

Embracing bike safety and your inner dork.

Sara posted this comment regarding the riding of bikes:

But the helmet messes up my hair! I want to ride my bike more and then I am stuck…should wear a helmet…but don’t want to look uncool. And then again I don’t want the contents of my skull spread out all over the road some day. See my conundrum?

It is a conundrum and I would by lying if I said that I haven’t struggled with it myself. The fact is that as cool as bicycling is, to be a safe biker you have to take the deep breath and choose to be the dork. It probably varies from city to city, but in Portland the coolest biker is some hipster chick (or guy) who wears skinny black pants and a dark sweatshirt, both of which gap to show their nifty back tattoo, and rides a fixie (fixed gear, one speed bike) with the wind ruffling though their hip haircut and insects bouncing off their cool black-framed glasses. If they are carrying anything at all, it is just a small messenger bag. If they are riding at night they have no lights.

But with the wind ruffling though their hair they are wearing no helmet and with all those dark clothes, no one can see them and with their back tattoo exposed they are getting cold and with only one gear it is harder to get up hills and if they have such a small messenger bag it can’t possibly hold all that is needed for a day at work and if it is dark outside, people can’t see them.

Me. Not cool. But my motto is that if someone hits me, it is darned sure going to be their fault. When I bike, I wear an ugly, but incredibly visible, jacket I bought off a road construction site, clear glasses and a helmet with lights mounted on it. My bike has 21 gears, more lights, a rack, fenders and a basket. Actually, the hipsters have fenders too. The only people who don’t have fenders in Portland are hard-core racing bicyclists concerned about weight. During fall, winter and spring they always have that wet stripe up their back.

The helmet will always mess up your hair, there is no getting around that. And I believe that you shouldn’t be without a helmet, though some would argue otherwise. I propose two solutions: one is to just live with the helmet hair (my choice). The other came to me from Urban Biker’s Tricks and Tips, a book I recommend any bicyclist read. Go on a bike ride wearing your helmet and get really sweaty. Then go to the hairdresser, take off your helmet and ask the hair dresser to cut it in a style that works with the helmet.

Bicycling, like so many other things, is just like high school. At some point you realize that the cool kids values don’t match yours and your forge your own path that follows you values. And just like high school, people who share your values will find you cool, and 95% of the time you won’t care what the cool kids think. That five percent of the time? You’ll feel like a dork. There just isn’t any way around it.

I promote our school auction.

Each year we have an auction. This year some promoting needed to be done. Because I am the person who stands at the door at the beginning and end of the school day, I was an ideal person. Plus, I got to tap into my beauty queen persona. First came the sash, drawing attention to the fact that the auction was fast approaching. Next came the crown with the message “Have you bought your auction tickets?” After that was the scepter which could be used as a mace, should the need arise. Each day the mace informed the public how few days remained until the auction. I planned to fashion a cape, but I got busy.

17 ways to live happily…second jobs.

If you do have a second job, make sure that you love it.

Sometimes people who feel squeezed trying to stretch the money they have choose to get a second job to bring some more money into their lives. I mostly suggest not doing this. A lot of times working a second job means you don’t have time to do the basic housekeeping tasks that keep costs down. If you work more hours you suddenly have even less time to plan your meals and cook them and clean your house and look for bargains and sit and space out. When time is crunched then the meal on the go looks much more attractive. When you are pressed for time things like shopping seem to be a good way to spend your day.

But sometimes you can work a little bit at something you love and that little bit makes all the difference. For the past six years I have been an advisor to the youth group at my church. I enjoy working with the other advisors and planning activities and hanging out with the youth so much that it took me several years to realize that I have a second job. The stipend that comes with the position is not huge, but it is a happy check to receive each month in the mail. Over the years I have saved that amount to help buy a house, to boost my savings, to make ends meet, to spend on alternative medical care, and to pay for classes. I’ve even set aside a portion of it as “mad money” to spend on what every I wanted. My second job doesn’t take up very much of my time, and results in cash every month.

Three sentence movie reviews–Kung Fu Panda.


A quick and entertaining animated feature with good life lessons for all. Finally, we learn how obsession with food can be used to one’s advantage. There were so many minor characters I felt they got a little lost in the plot line, but overall not a bad way to spend 92 minutes.

poster image from www.allposters.co.uk