Category Archives: personal life stuff

One of the things on my to-do list was to blog about the December trip to the West Side–but sickness intervened and then other things so here I am, a month or so later, finally getting caught up.

These days going to the West Side is much less frequent and much more busy for Reasons. We no longer share a garden with our friend, and there’s not a lot of other reasons other than visiting friends and family to go down twice a month like we were doing for a while. Plus now we need to stay in hotels (yes, friends have offered space, but between our restless sleeping habits and allergies to house pets, those really aren’t options except for the one friend). So when we do go to Portland, there’s a lot that needs to happen–and that was very true for this trip. Amongst other things, I needed to replace a lost cell phone, stock up on the goat and sheep cheese and yogurt I can eat, wheat-free bread, and more. We were also invited to a friend’s Christmas party, and since a lot of the husband’s friends from work would be there, we wanted to go there.

The phone happened in The Dalles, along with our first night’s stay. Originally we’d planned to go crabbing in Newport with a friend, but weather and other issues interfered. We might have adjusted our trip time, but getting the phone replaced was a big deal, so that happened first. The events while picking up the phone provided the overall mood of that night. It was early dark, and while I was getting things set up on my new phone (iPhone 7), a couple of weird events were happening simultaneously. One involved a family wanting to add a new line for (apparently) a boyfriend. The other was a crazy-eyed woman looking for a new phone charger that could be used in the car (instead of the wall charger she had). When she charged in the door, the tension level doubled amongst the young staff. I went on alert as she spoke quickly, then paced back and forth until she got her new charger. I have my suspicions.

Then we checked into the cheap motel That Shall Remain Nameless (but is a part of a cheap motel chain). From the very start I got a strong vibe of “weird motel” with the heightened security above what I’m used to, the stark fluorescent lighting, and the funky carpet and paint job. The room stunk of smoke cleaning product and we had to air it out for a while. Dinner at the Denny’s had us next to a group of older men who were apparently local Democrats given the topics discussed. All the same, we had a quiet night with no problems.

The next two days were at our friend’s place. I wrote and made jam while the skies opened up and deluged everything.

After that began the glam portion of the trip. Because our friend’s place is in the Pearl District, we decided that maybe we would stay in a nearby hotel–the Marriott Residence Inn. First sign of the ritzy section was when we realized that the expensive valet parking was most likely our best option, especially since we weren’t planning to drive around. The elevators required a key card to operate, and we went up to a very nice studio room with a weird and trendy shower design. No sliding door in the shower, controls at one end, shower head at the other. It worked, but was quite different. Dinner was at a nice sports bar, and we found a lovely dairy-free ice cream store with lots of stuff that I could eat. I stuck to the ice cream, but oh, the temptation.

The next day, we wandered around a little bit. The free hotel breakfast was limited given what I could eat, so I was glad I had options in the room. We walked by Title Nine, and I can report that I was a Good Girl and did not go shopping. We did indulge at Powell’s, though. Pho for lunch at another excellent shop, and then back to the room to rest up for the evening event. I remembered why I went through pants so quickly on the West Side–all that walking around in wet weather. The deluge had eased a little bit, but not much.

On the way to the party we encountered others who were going, and joined the parade of folks heading up to the penthouse. Yes, it was that kind of party, and a revisit of the world of corporate life. Good food, good drinks, and lots of conversation while looking out at the city (the picture above is from the party). It was a microcosm of a certain type of Portland circle, not with the biggest names but the younger attendees could be characterized as potential movers and shakers (I overheard several discussions about whether So-and-So was going to run for office, and if so, when–including encouraging a couple of attendees to think about it).

After a while, we got tired and went back to our room. It was nice not having to deal with parking in the Pearl, much less driving.

The next day was family. We checked out, visited for a while with the son and girlfriend and kids, then checked into the less expensive hotel. After that, we went to Chinese dinner, then did Peacock Lane and presents.

The next morning was a quick stop to finish up shopping, and then we were back to Enterprise, just ahead of some weather. A few days later I got sick, and was flat on my back for much of two weeks.

It doesn’t sound as exciting now, but oh well. The visit and hanging out in the Pearl confirmed our opinion that this life was just not for us. It’s okay to visit, but–I asked hubby if he regretted that we hadn’t bought a downtown condo at one point. He snorted and said he liked our current life much better–and I have to agree. I do prefer the quieter life, for sure.

One of the moments that makes me wonder how the hell did I ever get here is always on my birthday. Some numbers weigh lightly, others heavily, and still others not at all.

But today is sixty-two, and it’s a number that makes me pause to think. Sixty-two years. If you’d asked me that I thought I’d make it this far and be this active at 62, I probably wouldn’t have thought it possible. But here I am, sixty-two years old. I woke to an inch of snow outside, which faded throughout the sunny day until it’s mostly gone. I went out to the ranch and rode a snorty, grumpy Mocha who wanted to run and not come on the bit. No chance, little mare, not on my birthday, not without your snow shoes.

It seems like ages since I got back into riding regularly, first as a lesson rider, but then as an owner. Twenty-two years ago, I got dumped by a palomino paint gelding who allegedly never spooked but of course, when he did, it was on my fortieth birthday. So it’s been over twenty-two years since I got back on horseback, with no regrets.

I spent the rest of the day buying new glasses because my reading/computer glasses have broken and are now held together by tape. Literally broken, the temple shattering right at the hinge. And since these frames are over ten years old, and are from a line that my local optician doesn’t carry…nope. But the glasses I wear for bifocals have a distressing tendency to delaminate after a couple of months, so…I like them, and they’re getting made over into reading/computer glasses. I sucked it up and bought a frame that is supposed to be nearly indestructible (an important thing when doing the outdoor stuff I do).

Then, after riding, I wrote around 2000 words, bringing the book to about 93k. This time it’s not going to top out at 100k–just from the scenes I’ve roughly outlined, I’m guessing more like 110k words. We shall see.

Meanwhile, the earworm for the last section of Judgment is Bad Wolves’ cover of the Cranberries’ “Zombie.” Not so much for the words but for the mood evoked–Rekare is going to kick ass at this point, she has no more fucks to give, and what happens…happens. We shall see how it unfolds. I wrote four pages of outline last night.

And that is that. We did some getting out into the woods before the weather shuts things down over the last two days. I’ll blog about that later.

But for now…here I sit, now sixty-two, and I wonder what the hell is going to happen next. More books, I hope. Maybe another horse.

We shall see.

Not a lot of fancy words today, just keeping up with things. I have pix but don’t feel like wrestling with WordPress and LiveJournal to make them happen today. Maybe later, and I’ll put some up on Facebook.

We are well and truly into the transition process where we’ll be spending at least half of our time in Wallowa County. This past week saw the first big step–loading up the horse trailer with furniture and boxes. It’s been eleven years since our last move, and dang, we’ve got stuff. So culling is happening.

This was the first Big Drive with the loaded horse trailer as well. Since I’m going to be driving the horse when we move her, I’m getting my practice hauling furniture for two trips first. After this trip, I think a horse will be easier. Maybe.

We started out by overloading the trailer and having to stop, unpack part of the truck’s load. Added to that, I locked the trailer brakes once driving through Gresham–rainy day, driver cut in front of me, yow. Guess the trailer brakes were set right. But after those two things, the rest of the drive chugged along easily. We came up with a name for the truck–Dakota Bob Herman, don’t ask me why or how but the truck is now Dakota Bob Herman. Anyhow, Dakota Bob motored along pretty steadily up Cabbage Hill and then down Minam Hill into Water Canyon along the Wallowa River quite nicely. Even with a full load the trailer wasn’t pushing the truck. Weren’t going very fast, but then that’s how you drive with an older pickup with mileage pulling a fully loaded horse trailer.

Arrived in Enterprise without incident, and had to resort to four wheel drive high to back the trailer into the driveway. A minor drawback of living on a hillside. Unpacked, and then we decided we were tired out and painting wasn’t happening this trip. I managed to keep a respectable word count going on Netwalk’s Children from my desk which was temporarily set up in the living room. Breaks my heart to be writing with a Wallowa view. Not. At the same time I was following the expansion of the Sad Puppy drama while staying within the limitations of my personal hotspot wifi connection. Ah well, at least I got into the mindset adequately enough to write a decent teenage drama scene (between teens, that is, with one being whiny and the other one wanting to deck the whiner but refraining Because Responsibilities).

We also got out and hiked a short distance up the East Fork Wallowa River trail. I would have liked to have gone further, but I’d turned my ankle the day before on the basement stairs. No harm done beyond bruising, but the ankle was tender and I didn’t want to overdo. Beautiful day with lovely views of Wallowa Lake, and no one else on the trails. Things are just starting to pick up for the summer around Enterprise and Joseph, but it’s not quite tourist season yet.

In the evening we went to the last Fireside reading of the season at the Fishtrap House, just three blocks from our house. There were three featured writers and four open mic writers, all pretty decent stuff with a mix of poetry, essays, and fiction. Wind seemed to be a dominant theme; not surprising since it’s been a windy late winter and spring in the County. I also ran into another new farrier moving into the area. Husband left before I did; I lingered to visit further and then walked home listening to frogs singing under a half starry, half-cloudy sky. Down on the highway the red and blue of police lights suggested that maybe someone had caught police attention….

Anyway, the house looks different now with furniture coming into it. Just a few more pieces of renovations left, couple more trailer loads, and the Mocha move to go. Because of obligations and commitments back here in Portland we’ll be back and forth for a good two or three years or more, depending on the situation.

Today’s drive back was somewhat hairy. Once we climbed out of the Minam we ran into strong wind. It wasn’t too bad in the Grande Ronde valley, but as we climbed the Blues, we encountered not just stronger winds but rain which transitioned to sleet and then snow. Not really fun with an unloaded horse trailer, but I just took it slow and easy. As we came down off of Cabbage Hill the wind hit even harder, and we fought that thrice-cursed blow all the way to Cascade Locks, with very little reprieve. I drove with one eye on the road and the other on my gauges, and it was telling that when I was in the lee of the wind, I could maintain my speed at 500 rpms less than when bucking it head on. At times it was a fight to keep going at 50 mph without taxing the vehicle or gobbling much more gas than it did. But we did it.

Rain set in from Hood River to Bonneville Dam, not exactly my favorite place to deal with it. But then the wind died down and Dakota Bob leapt ahead, freed from constraint. Home, and a fairly quick parking process. Getting better at backing. A pain reliever, a hot pad to deal with back spasms, and now off to bed. Then we do the trip again next week.