Tagged!

At the end of May, Sara from Pike Schemes got tagged. Though Sara didn’t single me out, (probably because she knew I would be slow in responding) I did follow the rules and here I am. I’m eating lunch in my boss’ office because my computer was being used by the bookkeeper. I’ve just treated myself to some leftover Fritos from the school lunch. My hair is very long.

Theoretically, I would tag some other people too, but given how long it has taken me to get this posted, I think the moment has died.

Requiem: Colander

I’ve had this colander since college and it has served me well. I like its large sized holes, good for draining, and its color that isn’t really purple and isn’t really blue. Alas, its bottom is falling out and we are losing food. So off it goes, to that great kitchen in the sky.

Update: this colander has gained a second life as a produce harvester.

May Catchup!

Arrrrgh! I’ve just discovered a whole folder of photos from May! I will have to go back in time to post them, which means I’m breaking my rule of posting in order. Much apologies, but you can use the links below to find the posts you may have missed.

Graffiti at Portland State

Not Something You See Everyday

Scenes from a Bike Ride

Flower Communion

Houses and Plans

Details

Leverage filming here. Lucky us.

Back to the bus mall!

Dead Relatives Tour

Bus tip: Enjoy your private coach

Holds

Plenty

Waiting for the Starlight Parade

That list of links should catch you up nicely.

Poem for May: Sea Fever.

Sea Fever

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a gray mist on the sea’s face, and a gray dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way, where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

John Masefield

I first encountered this poem in an anthology I read for English class in High School. I really loved the sea at the time, especially because I rarely got to go down to the sea, being a resident of a land-locked state.

This is a great poem to memorize; the words flow together and the initial memorization only took me a few days. I spent the rest of the month making sure it was stuck fast in my head. The hardest part was figuring out the best way to get by the word “spume” which, depending on the audience might cause giggles. The word sounds vaguely naughty–one can imagine it being utilized in a porn title–and means foam, froth or scum.

While reciting the poem, I was struck that few people I know have such a need to “go down to” their job. Who would write such a poem about coding, or filling prescriptions or being a secretary at a charter school?

Waiting for the Starlight Parade

I don’t mind being the one to go down to the parade hours before it begins to hold a space for everyone else. I have my book and a comfortable chair and a good amount of people watching. It is a fun way for me to spend my time.

Then when people show up I get to chat with them.
Or take pictures of their very cute baby.

Why are there no pictures of the actual parade? Because right before it began, my camera battery died.

Flower sale. My last one.

I’m ending my tenure as a Youth Advisor at my church after seven years and this Easter was my last flower sale. I will miss some things about YRUU, but I can’t count the flower sale among them. It is usually wet and cold and in the past few years the youth don’t show up to help. All of those things were true today and I froze, while silently cursing all of the above. We didn’t even make that much money. Another thing done!

Bus tips: Tuck in.

This photo was taken (all stealthy like although that guy sitting below noticed me doing it) on the #6 bus. You remember that bus, right? The super crowded one that has all sorts of interesting people? This woman was using her bag as a defensive maneuver to avoid someone sitting next to her. I find this rude, especially on a crowded bus line like this one.

So here’s the deal. When you have a bag (or more than one) it is your job to keep it in your space. Your space is defined by the line separating two seats. If there are other people on the bus, it is your responsibility to stay within the bounds of your seat. This helps not only to pack the bus efficiently, but also to keep people from having to ask if they can sit there.

And men, that line is there for you too. Just because you think you have to sit with your legs spread wide doesn’t mean that you actually get to. Tuck in. Seriously. Also, both men and women: if you bring more than one bag on the bus, it is still your responsibility to keep all your possessions in your space. If you can’t do this, it is your responsibility to send out massive apologetic vibes to everyone who eyes the space you are taking up.

Dead Relative Tour 2009

I love cemeteries. They have so many interesting things to see. Here is a smattering of them:

I plan to be cremated, but if I were buried, the last thing I would want is this heavy slab on top of me.

No, not that Jimi Hendrix

“Is that a…?” “I think it might be….It is a coyote in an urban cemetery!”

The whole road through the cemetery is lined with these highly pruned holly trees. I kind of like their super structure.

Christ!

I took this picture just to hear Matt say their name with a German accent.
Which he did without prompting.
I know him well.

Either Mrs. or Miss Fenstermacher was a member of the Wahkeena Chapter of the DAR.

Oftentimes it is fun to say the names on the gravestone. Say it with me: “Slack.” I also like Mrs. Slack’s name: Nettie Elnora.

I was surprised by the very Disney looking Bambi carving on this stone, but this must have been before Disney started cracking down on its copyright. Or maybe they had a whole line of Disney themed gravestones? That wouldn’t surprise me.

Poor Leo. It looks like Mrs. Schlesinger found another place to rest her head. Also, I like the simple flower carvings and the font.

The section of the cemetery we visit has more than a few abandoned husbands. Mr. Van Winkle is not going to wake up from this nap.

These are fake flowers, but I did check to see who had this grave. Most of the graves in the section we go to aren’t very decorated.

It turned out to be a baby’s grave. Those are always sad, but someone hasn’t forgotten this child.

I can never resist taking pictures of the mausoleum where my Great Uncle Tom is. Swinging early 70s meets quasi religious touches meets a TON of artificial flowers.

Marble AND a brass chainmail curtain? I love it!

“We’re not religious, but we will throw some stained glass up for those of you who are.”

Different cemetery: The MAunts (looking more and more like my grandparents every day) decorating Grandma and Grandpa’s grave.

My Grandparents’ view.

The only problem with cremation is you don’t get a gravestone. They always look so nice to me.

Their neighbor

I initially stopped because I liked their last name because it reminded me of the nursery rhyme.

But I liked what they had carved on their gravestone. For Jean: wife, mother, teacher.

For George: Father, Musician, Horseman. (I’m trying not to be annoyed that he hasn’t listed “husband” to go with his partners “wife,” because overall, I like the concept.)

It is back to the bus mall!

This is the last weekend I will catch the bus on Third or Fourth avenues. Very soon, the bus stops will move back where they belong: on the bus mall. There will be a summer of “only” buses, cars, pedestrians, then in August and September the new Max lines will also join the cars and bikes and buses on the “transit mall.” We shall see how that goes. At any rate, I’ll be glad to be back on the mall. The sight lines are much better there.