January walk.

So lately this blog has been more “In & Inactive” than “Out & About.” This is due mainly two reasons:

  1. Lack of sleep has kept me from morning exercise so fewer pictures from there.
  2. It’s really dark all the time in the winter here.

This morning, though I walked to the Tin Shed Garden Cafe where I ate breakfast with Jan & Kelly. Here are some pictures I took along the way:

Along this stretch were some nice post-war cottages. Then this tiny little house with a huge front yard and no back yard.
This part of North/Northeast Portland is the only area I’ve found in the city with alleys. Most of them seem to be little used, and some are grown over completely with blackberry brambles.
This shared garage reminded me of houses in South Boston. One owner would update the paint job on their half of the house and the other owner wouldn’t. It was pretty common to see two-toned houses. I’ve rarely seen shared garages in this town, though.
Here’s a cute little post-war house that decided to embrace the swinging 60s with geometrical porch supports, a new door and windows. The sign at the corner of the house says “Suits Me Too”
Along one side street two woman were chatting outside a van. One asked me if I would like to buy tamales. I’d never eaten one, so I took the opportunity to ask the silly questions I’d always been too shy to ask in restaurants. Questions like, “Do you eat the wrapper?” “What’s inside them?” They were selling them six for $5.00 and so I bought some chicken ones. They were good too. I’ve got a card to call if I want more and they will deliver to me.
I like clever graffiti, but this just seems like it needs to be a little more clear. What was hot? It was hot and what?
After Jan & Kelly and I ate and solved the problems of the world we went for a stroll. It was a rare February nice day. Blue sky and warm temperatures. Days like this make winter bearable.
Of course there would be a skeleton in Warrior One on top of a ladder on top of store. Don’t you have one in your town?

Requiem for a long sleeved t-shirt

Here’s another item that went to the great trash can….

Matt gave me this t-shirt shortly after we got together. For years, when someone asked me what McGregor was I told them that Matt got it when he did crew in college because the winning team would take the losing team’s shirts. But I just found out this week that I had completely fabricated that story and that his mother sent it to him when she was at Antioch College. Oh, well okay. So I was wrong about its origins.

For some reason, long sleeved shirts are not plentiful in my life which means that this one got worn a lot, September through June. Whenever the weather was slightly colder in the morning when I exercised, I put on this shirt. The advantage of working out outside in the morning is that no one sees your workout wear. So it didn’t matter when the oil stain appeared.
The other day I was putting it on for perhaps the thousandth time and my elbow ripped a big hole in the armpit. I wore it a few times after that, but the damage was done. I said a sad goodbye to my trusty t-shirt.

Requiem for a jacket

I get attached to things, especially clothing. Being attached means that I wear some things until they are falling apart. Then they are in too bad of shape to donate them to Goodwill. So I have to just throw them away, which seems a horrible thing to do after so many years of good service. There should be a ritual. Lacking one, I’ve started taking pictures of the items before I consign them to the great trash can.

This was my grandfather’s jacket. When I found it in my aunt’s closet it was missing the wool lining, but I wanted it anyway. I loved the contrasting lining and the green color. It was also perfect for my winter in the Pacific Northwest: it kept the rain and wind off of me, but was light enough I didn’t get too hot when walking from place to place. I wore it every day for years. I also had a Chalice Lighter pin on the collar for a time, but it disappeared somewhere along the way.
Now it is frayed at the cuffs and faded. So off it goes. Thank you, lovely jacket, for keeping me warm and dry.

The Mermaid Chair. Sue Monk Kidd

Jessie, a forties-ish wife and mother whose only child has gone off to college, is a bit bored and stuck in her life. One Ash Wednesday she is summoned home to Egret Island because her mother has purposely cut off a finger. While on the island she meets Brother Thomas and is drawn to him.

The book follows Jessie’s journey to the next stage in her life. It was one of those “just one more chapter” books for me and I enjoyed reading it. I wasn’t in love with the Secret Life of Bees the way the rest of the country seemed to be, but her plot is believable and interesting enough and the book didn’t end the way I thought it would.

Two things were distracting. At the start of the book, it seemed to be set in the generic “present,” but as the book goes on, it gradually becomes apparent that it is set in the 1980s. I spent a lot of time thinking, “Wait, why does she have a walkman?” “Why is she listening to tapes?” “Why wouldn’t they just use a helicopter?” By the end of the book it was clearly set in the 1980s, but I couldn’t figure out why it needed to be.

Also, and this may have been my fault as I may have skimmed right over some description that solved this mystery for me, I spent most of the book wondering if the character if Hepzibah was African American or not. This shouldn’t matter, but it did. Was she a nice white woman who had taken on the interesting history of freed slaves on Egret Island? Or was she the only black woman on Egret Island and thus it made sense that she would take care of the old slave cemetery? It turned out she was African American.

Overall, good book.

Lint update. Reseach and planning.

In my world, every great project starts in the library. This one was no different. I wanted two things from the library. One was a book that lists a basic wardrobe. The other was some sort of primer about dressing, how to avoid the five separate outfits, no mix-and-match problem that I’m having.

I started my search by looking for a book I used to own. It’s by Kim France and is called The Lucky shopping manual: building and improving your wardrobe piece by piece. I searched for it because I knew I could use the subject headings to find other books like it. Sure enough, the subject heading called “clothing and dress” brought me to exactly what I need.

For the first time, I used the “add to my list” feature in the catalog. It was pretty handy, I just checked a box on every book that looked interesting and then was able to email the list of books to myself. I could have printed the list, too. Then after work, I ran to the library, found the call number of the book I found the most interesting, and looked at the other books on the same shelf. From entrance to exit only took 15 minutes. I ended up with these five titles:

  • 10 steps to fashion freedom: discover your personal style from the inside out.
  • Business casual made easy: the complete guide to business casual dress for men and women
  • Ready to wear: an experts guide to choosing and using your wardrobe
  • Secrets of style: the complete guide to dressing your best every day
  • The look.

I’m making my way through both Ready to Wear and The Look. I’m a bit nervous because Ready to Wear wants me to go through my clothes and put back only the things I love and am currently wearing. I can envision two things that I love and am wearing. This may have to be amended to “like” and am wearing.

On the shopping front, I received notice that my favorite consignment store, Here We Go Again, is having a sale on Valentine’s day. Matt has class on Valentine’s day, so I made plans to go there after work but before my class on that night. By then I will have read more of the primer books and have a better idea what I need. On Sunday, I will stop at what I call “the fancy Goodwill.” It’s right on my way home from church and it is a Goodwill that only has the better designers. I will look for pants while I am there, as I am in dire need of them.

What I’m doing for Lint.

Yes, Lint. I observed to someone yesterday that I’m always pronouncing “Lent,” the liturgical season, as “lint,” the stuff found in your pocket after you do laundry. And since my religious tradition doesn’t really celebrate Lent, and I’m going to do something a bit different this year, I’ve decided to celebrate Lint.

Last year I gave up eating out. This year, I’ve decided to do the more superficial, but very necessary, task of dealing with my wardrobe.

I don’t like to shop. I didn’t like it anyway, but when my size expands, as it has now, to the very verge of “normal” clothing stores, I really hate to shop. I can never find pants that fit, which means I have one pair of nice pants and one pair of nice jeans to wear to work. The other three days I wear skirts. I’ve got some good skirts, but my tops haven’t been replenished for some time.

Clothing used to come to me. My roommates gave it to me, or people would leave it on a donation table in my apartment complex. Now my Aunt gives me clothes, which is nice, but she is 30 years older than me, which means my wardrobe has slowly been creeping toward matronly for some time now.

I also don’t like to spend money on clothes. I think they are too expensive. So I buy my stuff in thrift shops and consignmet shops. I like shopping there because I’m supporting a local business or charity and avoiding the whole “made in a sweatshop” guilt entirely. But thrift/consignment shopping means there isn’t as much choice so I have to go to more places.

I absolutely HATE buying underwear. That I buy new. Thrift shop underwear is where I draw the line. The other day I figured out that I last bought underwear in 2004. It’s sort of holding up, but not well.

I usually shop about twice a year, but it’s been awhile. I supposedly don’t have time. I was supposed to go shopping over Thanksgiving break, but I didn’t. I was also supposed to go shopping over Christmas break. That didn’t happen either. So for Lint this year, I will go shopping six times. Ideally once per week-ish. Three times during the week I will evaluate my wardrobe for what I need and what I need to get rid of. I’ll see what the library has for wardrobe books. I’ll update you on my progress. Things will happen. It will be a good Lint.

Wish me luck

Letters written in January.

14 January–Linda. Thank you note
15 January–Peter Ames Carlin. The excellent TV columnist in The Oregonian.
16 January–Jenna. My ex-roommate who does write letters.
17 January–Eugenie Olson. Author of Love in the time of taffeta.
18 January–Sara. Also writes letters.
19 January–Jim Carmin. Author of “Dear Readers, the Letter Must Not Die“
20 January–Jan B. Thank you note
21 January–Susan. Sporadic letter writing college friend.
22 January–Mary. Apparently she got married. I wrote for details.
23 January–Mom. Sent a word search I created so she could entertain herself while recovering from surgery.
24 January–Inara Verzemniks. Reporter for The Oregonian. I love her writing style and subjects.
25 January–Cindy. I’m not holding out hope for a letter back, but they do come sometimes.
26 January–The Oregonian. I was annoyed that they don’t tell us where missing features are.
27 January–Alison Bechdel. I loved this week’s comic, and I wrote to tell her so.
28 January–Teresa. I’ve sort of lost touch with her. Maybe this will revive.
29 January–Graham. Thank you note.
30 January–Matt. Some days dashing off a postcard to someone you live with counts as writing a letter. I mailed it.
31 January–Mark Edlen. I liked the idea of small downtown condos as reported in this article, but disagreed with his definition of “moderate income”

Resolution 2008

I usually make resolutions for the start of the new year. Some years I pick five or six things to work on. Last year I made none. This year I decided to go all out.

I write a lot of letters. Letters to friends far away, letters to the editor of The Oregonian, letters to authors I read, angry letters to companies, my congressional representatives and people I am not liking at the moment. The only problem is that all of these letters get written in my head and none of them make it to paper, much less into an envelope, addressed, stamped and put in the mail.

I used to write letters all the time. I had email the last two years of college and my friends and I would email back and forth, but we still wrote letters. In my mid 20’s the letters started tapering off, replaced with long emails that were printed out and saved as if they were letters. Then the emails tapered off, and what did come, got deleted with all the other email. I realized awhile ago that I hadn’t written an actual letter in years.

There are so many steps to letter writing. There’s the letter being written, which assumes paper, pen and legible handwriting are present. Then there is the finding of an envelope, the correct address, a stamp and a mailbox. Somewhere along the line those steps became overwhelming and I stopped doing them.

I have a few friends, two exactly, that still write letters. Jenna never really stopped, and I can remember when we were roommates, having a discussion about how people didn’t write back when she wrote. After I moved out, I became one of those people.

My friend Sara sent me a letter last year that reminded me what fun letters are. Sara’s letters are always covered in stickers. They are written longhand and in fun colors of ink. They discuss what is going on in her life and asks about mine. I wrote her back. And she wrote me back. And then that letter sat on my desk waiting to be answered. For two months.

So, this year, I pledged to write and mail one letter per day.

If I had written this entry at the beginning of January as planned I would have outlined my fears:

  • It would take too long
  • I wouldn’t have enough people to write
  • What the heck am I going to say?
  • I wouldn’t ever get a letter back

My plan was to assemble a letter writing packet. It would have envelopes, paper, postcards, favorite pens, addresses and stamps. I did that.

My fears and assembling the letter writing packet had me paralyzed for the first two weeks, and I didn’t get started until January 14. But now I have been writing a letter per day. Here’s what I have learned.

  1. Having the letter writing packet is key. Writing a letter can take as little as 10 minutes and when you have all your supplies in one place, it only takes a minute or so more to have it ready to go out the door to the mail box.
  2. There aren’t as many mail boxes as there once were. I read awhile back that the post office has been removing little-used ones. We have none around us that are on the way to anything, though we do have a branch post office in our neighborhood.
  3. Even though I’m not thrilled with my handwriting, I actually enjoy hand writing letters. For some reason, sitting in front of the computer typing a letter seems like work, while sitting at the table or on the couch or in the doctor’s office with a pen in hand is fun.
  4. I do feel awkward writing people I know who I’ve never written to. I worry that they will feel pressure to write me back and my letter will become a bundle of guilt sitting on their desks. While it would be nice for everyone to write me back, it’s not super necessary, nor do they have to write me via the post office. Email works too.
  5. I hate writing my return address. I get all clench-y when I am writing it, and find myself holding by breath. I just printed out return address labels this weekend.
  6. Writing can be cross marketing. I included this blog address on the return address label.
  7. I enjoy dashing off letters to authors and people who write for the paper or magazines. The internet actually helps with this. It is very easy to find a mailing address for any author you might want to write you.
  8. I will get letters back. Just yesterday, the author of a newspaper article I wrote to wrote me back. “Who the heck is this?” I wondered as I opened the mailbox. Then I was delighted to read his letter.

Do you want to get a letter from me? I need your address. How do you know if I don’t have your address? You would know because you didn’t get a Christmas card from me. If you want me to write you, there are two options. If you have my address, write me. Or just email me your address and I will add you to my address list. My email is (disguised here, see if you can break the code:-): stenaros. shift 2. the free email provider that starts with a “y”. dot com.

For blogging purposes I will publish a list now and then of who I have been writing too.