Summer Blog

At the beginning of summer my old friends from New Hampshire visited their daughter in Portland and by extension me, a few miles to the north. On the second day of the season the three of us went to Astoria for a day trip. Though he selected to drive significantly out of the way we still could easily drive there in back. We hadd a nice time on a sunny and cool day. We took a long walk along the river and had some nice seafood at the Astoria Brewing Company.

Every year we see a few summer days with temperatures reaching the low 100s. This year we had five such days but the weekend of June 26-28 we reached numbers that this region has never hit and ones that I never experienced anywhere. Each of these three days was hotter than the one preceding it with the thermometer reaching highs I thought only occurred in the Sahara Desert. It peaked at 117 degrees on June 28.

Apparently we were under a “Heat Dome”, a term I had never heard of before. The idea is pretty intuitive but the definition of it I gleaned from NOAA's web site which told me that a heat dome occurs when the atmosphere traps hot ocean air like a lid or cap. ... In a process known as convection, the gradient causes more warm air, heated by the ocean surface, to rise over the western Pacific, and decreases convection over the central and eastern Pacific. Around 2013 we had a similar condition on the east coast, when a “Derecho” killed our electricity for four and a half days. The difference back then was that it produced a powerful storm. In 2021 on the west coast there was no storm and perhaps that is why we had no electrical outage.

Heat Dome

I didn't travel much during the summer but I never really do anyway, mainly for the high cost of summer (tourist) season. Typically I would have flown to Michigan but for the second year in a row, the pandemic has prevented me from that trip. However I do hope to do some traveling including Michigan in October.

So I stayed pretty local. Of course my New Hampshire friends were here for several weeks so there were several visits with them. I did go to (or attempted to go) to several fairly local venues for entertainment in July.

The first was the Hockinson Blueberry Festival. Real life festivals in small towns never match those seen on television shows like the Gilmore Girls or the early years of The Midsomer Murders to name a few. In those shows there was a local festival in nearly every episode. Well we have them nearly as often here and within about 50 miles. I've reported on many of them over the last few years. But they are never as elaborate nor as merry. The Blueberry Festival was neither. It was located on a sunny Saturday in the rural town at a local school parking lot. There was no shade and the booths were all on the blacktop lot. That made for a hot adventure. The booths were clustered in a few small areas and they mostly were for knick knacks some unrelated to blueberries entirely. I did buy a blueberry cobbler which was too large (I froze ¾ of it for latter consumption) and unexceptional. It was no better than some factory packaged treat that one could buy at their local grocery store. Another booth sold large trays of fresh blueberries so people could take them home and prepare their own cobblers (likely sharing the same recipe for that which I bought).

Hockinson does have a historic market/restaurant which I explored briefly but did not buy anything. It was a nice store.

Kildeer

I had seen an article about local outdoor productions of various Shakespeare plays and decided to go see Love's Labour Lost at a pleasant site near the Columbia River. The article that drew my interest acclaimed this crew but did not provide a lot of details about the play. As it turned out it was a play based on the title mentioned above. There were several performers who I assume were supposed to be humorous but I couldn't see any thing worth a grin, let alone a guffaw, and there was not much audience response that would suggest I was being too critical. Then a hundred car freight train roared nearby so the play was put on hold until it passed. The biggest problem though, was that we could not hear the players. There were no mikes strategically located to project the voices into also strategically placed speakers. All of us were on our own to interpret what seemed more like mumbling than projection. I got bored of all this after about 45 minutes and packed up my kit and made for the exit which was jammed with like minded audience members all of us eager to go home and enjoy the rest of the evening.

Shkes1

One day I decided that I would go to a high end, amateur baseball game featuring our local Ridgefield Raptors. I went to a game a few years ago and it was played at a small but very nice arena with cheap beer and bratwurst on the menu. So I looked forward to attending another one. As I got near Ridgefield I realized that I was not certain as to where the ball field was and pulled over to consult my google maps app.

The results of that search were peculiar and in the end, pretty funny. Gmaps told me that the stadium was about 8 or so miles elsewhere making me wonder why the Raptors would abandon the local and quite nice venue that I had been to previously. But, I followed the trail provided by the app. It took me to where I had never seen a ball field despite the many trips I had taken in the general area. I thought there must be a field hidden from the main road and followed the directions my phone recited to me. Finally it said to turn left into an alley way behind some formulaic suburban stores. As I reached the nadir of this alley and with a dumpster in front of me my Gmaps app proudly announced that I had reached my destination. I ended up missing the game but thought that the Gmaps coders must have been watching me from a remote camera and were enjoying a laugh at my expense while they were sequestered into some sort of coder cave with little else to do.

In early September I headed east for an hour long drive to the town of Stevenson on the Columbia River. I love this drive and for much longer than the road to Stevenson but on this day I was headed to the Farmer's Market. The reason I did that was because I go to all of those that I possibly can and I hadn't been to this one before. Farmer's Markets are a lot like mini festivals and they occur regularly rather than annually. They also vary wildly in their entertainment and farm product efficacy. I mean by all that, that they are trendy during the last 15 or so years and so some of them exist merely as some sort of community showcase and maybe at the urging of some zealous selectman.

In early September a typical market would be lush with produce. Not so in this waterfront market. There were about 22 items of produce of varying levels of quality. I mean about 22 actual items rather than victual species. In sum there were 5 booths 4 of which hawked trinkets and arts and crafts oddities, one being a booth specializing pet stuff like food bowls. They were locally hand made and I imagine by someone who has a kiln in the garage and no requirement to bring in family income. The market was located on the Columbia River so had the ambiance that could offer much to a market. Here in Stevenson that did little to cheer up the puny market with booths manned by vendors who had all of the enthusiasm of kids during after school detention or their adult peers on a work release program or doing community service.

Stevenson FM

I walked around the village of Stevenson for a bit and saw an inviting Tavern which was closed since it was not even noon yet. I also saw a large river cruise ship which made a stop there in its tour of the Columbia River. I imagine that would be a nice trip for those who could afford it. That is a demographic that I don't meet the requirements for.

Cruise ship

Stevenson is nestled in a branch of the Cascade Mountains so there is a lot of viewing (in addition to the Columbia) to keep anyone entertained.

Stevenson Mountain

So summer ended today. We had lots of hot weather and we mainly saw sun since we got far less rain than any of the years I have been here. That includes 2017 when we went a record number of days without rain. We did that again this year when we saw a total of .05 inches of rain from the first day of the season (there were plenty of dry days prior to the summer solstice too) but we did get some rain the last weekend of the season. So our total rainfall for this 282 season of my life was 2.17 inches.

During the summer the freedom loving patriots kept the pandemic alive by refusing to be vaccinated. The nation has been averaging 2000 deaths per day mainly from those whose rights would be violated by taking measures beneficial to their health.

We did not hear too many loud voices from these freedom fighters on a national scale. On September 18^th there was a march on Washington by a group of less than 1000 who ostensibly were there to lend some sort of moral support to the people responsible for the violent nonsense of January 6^th. Secondarily they were there to preach the lie that the orange president actually won the 2020 election. That he lost because of wide scale (absolutely unproven) voter fraud. The orange president still claims such when he has his minions confined to some arena or other public forum so that they can blindly adore him.

However the dismal results of the September 18^th rally is a strong indicator that these zealots were rudderless and unable to follow a path of their own making. They have to wait for concrete instructions.

Republicans receiving their directions from the RNC

As I have been doing since our Covid sequestering in March of 2020, I saw a number of Zoom presentations. On July 19^th PBS showed a preview and discussion of the Ken Burns, Muhammad Ali presentation aired on September 19th. The panelists included the Olympian Janet Evans who handed Ali the symbolic torch at the Olympics start several years ago. Evans won almost everything there was to win in swimming, including five Olympic medals.

August 4^th Brooklyn Library Center for History. Had a discussion about early American Indian views of justice. The book, Covered With Night (meaning the description used for sorrow by native Americans, was the focal point of the discussion. The panelists were introduced by Marcia Ely and included the author of the above book, Nicole Eustace. Donald Grinde a historian and political activist, who can claim tribal membership, was the other panelist. The discussion included such details as the European sense of justice for native Americans, balanced gender roles in the tribes. According to the panelists, natives, as per to the European powers, had no souls so Europeans could treat them any way they like including to kill them. However those powers wanted peace with Indians in order to further their own agenda.

The Center for Information (CFI) presented Ed Rothschild who droned on about 1980 elections and rise of the religious right, Trump judgeship appointees and other (legitimate) gripes about Republican power. The presentation poorly done and I did not complete it.

September 2, also from CFI was Carolyn Porco of the Cassini Project, with a discussion entitled There is no Planet B.

With climate change running amok, big money oligarchs and politicians seek solutions in habitations of other planets. Porco scoffed at the lunacy of impractical solutions. Distance and costs alone, make this all pie in the sky and in fact disingenuous. It also glorifies those oligarchs like Musk and Bezos along with their space flights reflecting the glories of being super wealthy. This rather than explore real solutions and abatement to a an increasing global problem.

For our personal convenience, natural resources have borne the brunt. It is all for the ease and exploitation for now. There is no looking at the future. We've depleted “The Commons” (refering to a situation in which individuals with access to a shared resource (also called a commons) act in their own interest and, in doing so, ultimately deplete the resource. This economic theory was first conceptualized in 1833 by British writer William Forster Lloyd). Scientific and logical solutions are displaced by the futuristic dreams of the super wealthy. We should create a circular economy-one that recycles used resources into something else that is usable. She also described the numbers of satellites that orbit the earth and that there are no international agreements to regulate them. The results are that once the satellite is no longer functioning it does not have to be decommissioned. It becomes space debris and subject to satellite collisions and falling objects with more satellites.

On September 9^th, The Center for Brooklyn History presented a short biography of Fannie Lou Hamer. I first heard of her many years ago when listening to a record my wife bought. I learned that she was a nearly illiterate sharecropper who became involved in the Civil Rights movement in the south during the 1960s. Panelists included Marcia Ley, the host, Kate Larsen author, Karen Hill and Cynthia Copeland. They did a reasonable presentation of Hammer's story and my only complaint was that one technique was to emotionalize the story.

8^th moon

The little bit of traveling that I did do during the summer was to King County where I intend to move to in January. So it included apartment hunting and visiting my daughters and grandson, Ali. It was from August 6^th to 9^th and will be re-done a few times prior to actually moving.

I got a room at the Red Lion in Des Moines, WA for Friday night with the intention of beginning an apartment hunt. Since both of my daughters are within about 10 miles of here, it seemed like the thing to do. The drive up from Vancouver is about 180 miles but is almost entirely a bleak trip. The scenery north of Olympia is pretty much all industrial or simply the bumper of the vehicle 60 feet in front of me.

So I checked out several apartment complexes. Of the seven I looked at only two were acceptable. One was too rich for me and another up a cascade of hills within the complex. It was hard enough maneuvering around in a car and most surely not pedestrian friendly. I'm hoping for a location that I may not find here, though there are still many complexes left to look at here in Des Moines and other nearby locales.

So when I exhausted Friday's search (or it exhausted me), I spent the night at the Red Lion Inn on the ultra busy Pacific Highway. Its one of those low to middle range motel situations that is clean and everything works. It was unexceptional. The street is not only very busy and high speed but it is filthy with litter which includes the packaging of the nearly 5 trillion fast food places that line this suburban mecca. It was very uninviting for anyone walking-at least those with sentiments near mine.

Along with the fast food joints there are many rather dreary Asian and Mexican restaurants which are privately owned. I skipped a normal dinner because the suburban industrial chains like TGIF just didn't interest me and the Italian ones too pricey for me to be eating in a motel room. Besides I was going to be visiting the next two days so it was prudent to save a few bucks for more celebratory times. For dinner on Friday night I went to the local grocery store and bough a prepackaged chicken Alfredo dinner and it was fine.

Des Moines itself is a curious meld of homeless and wealthy. Litter and trash line the non residential streets as if they are some sort of trademark brand of this condition. I imagine that there are about 100 places in every state in the union just like it.

There is a noticeable number of people whose life styles would be called middle class but their mortgages are far higher than any place I have ever lived.

There is a pleasant tract of coffee shops and restaurants that last two or three blocks along both sides of the street. There is also a waterfront area that makes for a nice walk along a bit of the Puget Sound. There is also a pretty nice state park only a few miles out of town.

Generally my first night in a motel provides me with a fretful sleep and I am usually content with about five hours of it. However this particular August Friday night I slept well even getting about 9 hours of sleep so I woke up content on Saturday morning.

So I finished off Friday night reading a Paul Dunbar melodrama. In the morning after a shower, I looked at more apartments and finally in the early afternoon my visiting began. At eleven, Lucie got hold of me and we met up in Georgetown for lunch. Our first choice-The Hangar, was closed for renovation but walking around the business district full of bistros and cafes, we landed at one whose name I didn't note, but we had a fine small repast in the shade of an outdoor deck. Once completed we did a fast tour of an art sale on the street and then headed separately down to Hannah's. My daughter's and Hannah's son Ali and I all went on a long walk to a park where Ali stayed busy climbing all over the equipment and commenting on whatever was occurring, commenting that is, as best as his skills allowed. So he got quite a workout.

The afternoon became evening in a very short order so Lucie headed back to her home while Hannah, Ali and I we dined on pizza and salad and by then it was night and Ali was retreated to the bedroom with his mother.

A half an hour later she emerged and we talked about what ails the American world and though I didn't look at the time I estimate that by about 10:30 we each went to bed.

Earlier in the day, upon passing one of those neighborhood free book libraries, Lucie saw one that she insisted that I read. An hour or so earlier, I had finished Dunbar's treacle, The Sport of the Gods so I was primed for a new read. So...taking Lucie's gift, I began reading Ann Patchett's Bel Canto while pre dozing on Saturday night.

I arose Sunday and snuck off to get a paper and while everyone else continued sleeping, began the crossword puzzles. When Hannah and Ali entered the scene we had some eggs (Hannah raises her own chickens) the eggs were quite fresh and we ate pita bread along with them. After putting the dishes aside we headed to the Farmer's Market in West Seattle. This required parking several blocks away and walking up hill to our quest. Because of Ali's age, size and curiosity about everything, this was a long task. But Ali was a trooper and when we finally got to the top of this hill Hannah bought a tray of fruits and Ali was fortified by the strawberries that he ate and was decorated by those that adorned his cheeks and clothing. He did however, become dissatisfied with this venture and we started the now down hill trek back to the car. His temper was appeased some by the stop we made midway back to get some much needed chocolate milk. We made it back to the car and headed to Des Moines with Hannah keeping Ali awake so that a more fruitful nap would come upon reaching her home. That was successful.

Ali, delighted at the flash of the camera

Once the nap was over Ali and I entertained each other for a few hours and then Lucie fetched me for a trip back to Georgetown and an hour of billiards.

It is said that you never forget how to ride a bike which seems to be true. You can however, forget how to play pool. Actually it is less “How to play” than execution of what is theoretically obvious. I seemed to still do my geometric calculations but only rarely converted that knowledge into making the billiard ball reactions do as I intended. Sometimes I did and for about two seconds, looked as if I knew what I was doing.

Then she, Eddie and I went to White Center for a meal of Cajun seafood steamed with corn and potatoes. This is a meal I never tire of. After the repast was over Lucie dropped me back at Hannah's where we visited in her expansive garden until dark. For my good behavior, Hannah rewarded me with some fresh garlic (my own attempt to grow garlic in my garden of pots having failed), and it was soon time for Ali to go to bed for the night.

Hannah's Fig Tree

Hannah and I completed the evening cleaning up and Hannah doing some food prep for the upcoming week. Once I had proffered all of the sagacity I could, it was the end of another day.

Then of course it was Monday and the visit complete. I entertained Ali as Hannah began her work day and Lucie relieved be. Then I headed south for my three hour drive to Vancouver.

2021 had a spring and you could do more things than the last one

Brooke Shields

As has been the custom for the last thousands of millennia, spring comes after the winter. That 2021 was no different came as no surprise. This year we were already prepped here in southern Washington, as the last several weeks of the torpor season warmed noticeably and all of those re-birth type emotions were well in place when March 21 arrived. In my own case I began exercising and hiking in earnest again. I let my light weight and stretching actions lapse and my hiking was not occurring regularly. It showed noticeably when I returned to these activities and walking a mile was a noticeable impact especially on my hip joints. Anyway by walking additional miles every day and being strict about my exercise regime I feel things lightening up a lot. So...I am increasing these activities incrementally.

Portland's Farmer's Market at PSU is open all year but I didn't return until early spring and found it as grand as ever. I get there every month or so even if it is just for some hot food and the spirit of the market. Anyone who knows me understands that I am addicted to markets and find them wherever I go.

Portland Market

By early April I got antsy enough to go on my first trip in 6 months. I had read about a town in the mountains about 5 hours from where I sit. It is east of Seattle about 2 hours and is called Leavenworth. Whoever designed it wanted a Bavarian styled town and they were successful, sort of.

I left Vancouver on a brisk but crystal clear morning, a little before 9:00am. The ride north was uneventful. Once I was about 10 miles north it became a beautiful early spring day. Past Castle Rock about 40 miles from here the drive becomes about as dreary a ride as one could imagine. It is mostly suburban commercial with all of the standard chains. There are also big truck repair shops and dealerships. Occasional there are political posters the messaging on each is to express that sort of white guy anger that boils at the center of rural Washington. I discovered at a rest area that Biden is a “biscum” which has never been reported in responsible media.

From that rest area just past Tacoma, I got on a state highway #80 where the mountains arise and on to US 90 where I traveled through the Wenatchee Forest. Beyond that and past the Teanaway River I reached another state route, WA97. From there it was on to Leavenworth.

Leavenworth view of the mountains

I had rented a “tiny house” for the night and being about 15 miles outside of Leavenworth I took advantage of my spare few hours to explore this small town. More on the house later.

Leavenworth is more of an ersatz village created with a theme. It is a tourist attraction not only for the skiing which is quite popular but for its Bavarian theme. The buildings including the McDonald's and Mexican restaurants are all Bavarian style and the signage likewise intended to give the town an Alpine village “feel”. To that end it is pretty hokey. I suppose that a Burger King franchise in Nuremberg might have a logo adorned with a BK.

At any rate the tourist attraction town was doing quite well this particular Tuesday. It was sunny and in the mid 60s which really helped. The streets were packed with people like me. The Covid 19 issue prevented restaurants from full capacity but they were as jammed as they legally could be. One had to essentially make a reservation for a bar stool and a stein.

I bought a couple of tacos and enjoyed them on a grassy knoll. A few hundred others shared the same space, many eating and others such as toddlers running off energetic steam. This repast was simply to ward off the pangs developed from a long drive and the hours since I had other food. They were quite good but only a filler. I wanted to buy a German meal that I could take back to my overnight residence for more deliberate eating.

So I walked around the town which was larger than I imagined prior to getting here. Everything was Bavarian though I wonder what percentage of the locals could speak a language other than English or Spanish. Anyway I bought a meal of Wurst, fried potatoes and two kinds of sauerkraut, a golden colored variety and a red cabbage version. While all of the meal was quite good, the red pickled cabbage stood out and will be the easiest to remember.

Leavenworth

Around 4:00 pm I headed to the tiny house to see what I had gotten into. This AirBnB lived up to its name and was in fact, quite tiny. When I put the address into the GPS a side note appeared that warned me of dangerous animals in the area. Fortunately I did not come face to face with any and unfortunately I did not see any from a safe position.

When I rented the place the owner sent a lengthy email with dos and dont's during my stay. When I entered I saw that there were notes all throughout with additional rules. They did not include the tricks to starting the gas stove. Standard methods like lighting it with a match or a lighter didn't work because there was no gas flow. There was another outdoor cooking range on the deck and I couldn't figure out how to light that one either. I only wanted to heat water for some coffee in the morning so not having that ability was not tragic, simply annoying.

It also came with a composting toilet which also had more specific rules for usage. Worried about looming disasters that may come with misuse, I elected to use a tree outdoors in most cases.

The term “tiny” most aptly applied to the bathroom. There was about 12x18 inch floor area and to use the shower you sat on the toilet. That did not matter to me since to get the water tepid would take about 20 minutes of wasted water flow. I was leaving for a lengthy trip home in the morning and never need a shower prior to spending 5 or 6 hours in the car.

This tiny house is located along with two others on a mountain slope in the Cascades. The owner's home is at the base of that same slope. I never met him though I saw someone who appeared to be in charge. Neither the latitude nor the altitude here were the same as they those in Leavenworth so that despite the sunny skies it was noticeable cooler. It also is in a forest of huge Douglas Firs providing much shading.

That night it dropped into the high 20s. My bed which was up on as much of a loft as can be in these quarters and required me to climb on a bench and up and into it. With the lights out, it was difficult to see anything. Those factors all made me not want to get out from under the covers. However, in my dotage, a middle of the night bathroom excursion is routine as it was that night. I scrambled down from the bed and unto tile flooring in bare feet (enhancing that familiar urge considerably) and scrambled to the tiny bathroom using it as best I could and hurrying back to the blankets. Being restless over the next couple hours I slept erratically and was wide awake before 6:00 am. Given the lack of heat and my inability to work either of the stoves, I had little reason to hang around. No coffee or comfort made my decision to leave then, easy to make.

In the cold of early light I closed the door of the tiny house one last time. I should add that overnight experience ran to about $165.00 pinching a budget considerably and making me less interested in ever doing an AirBnB again.

Tiny House

I drove through the mountains (still laden with a winters worth of snow) for a while but descended through into the high desert surrounding among the little bergs here and there until I reached Yakima and the Yakima Tribal Nation. There is a lot of stark beauty in these eastern Washington deserts.

The land is bleak with occasional tufts of hardy green plants popping up along with scruffy, leafless (being still early spring) trees. One can see for about a trillion miles there. At one point Mt Rainier rose from a distance to the west and Mt. Adams in view in front of me to the south. The rolling lands of this place slowly descending into Washington State route #14 which is maybe my favorite road of all times. I landed there about 75 miles to the east of my apartment. I was able to enjoy the foothills and winding road along the Columbia River which I love doing. That ended my fairly bittersweet two day adventure to see Leavenworth.

Hannah, Lucie and Ali came for a visit in the middle of April which was real nice especially since I have rarely seen Ali in person during his short life. He was mostly in a pleasant mood and is a far more intrepid walker than I remember ever seeing in an 18 monther. During the two day visit we mostly entertained and were entertained by Ali and that is what I most remember about short people of his age.

Kids

I got my own second vaccine shot at the end of March but I see that vast numbers of Americans-most of them who get their annual flu shot, have decided not to get this Covid vaccine. The reasons are almost universally based on political beliefs though that is often denied. A private school in Florida will not allow any of their teachers to be vaccinated. One of the friends from my youth, told me that he is not getting the shots because he doesn't believe the disease is that contagious. If the data itself is not convincing I am left to understand that he could be the last survivor on earth and still be proud of his stand.

I have watched Americans get stupider all the time but with the media and modern technology the idiocy is spiraling quickly. That is satisfactory to the Republican party (which clearly no longer stands for things like tradition, personal accountability and being true to one's word any longer) as they seek total control and how better to do that than to have supporters who gainsay factual data in lieu of conspiracy hysteria. This will only help the rich get richer but their supporters would rather eat each other than get in the way of the demagogues. It is the party line that is demanded rather than personal integrity and thinking for one's self. Of course voter suppression is another tactic that these patriots support and help create.

That is America for you. Its interesting that governments that supported the last CIC are also having their virus numbers skyrocket. To emulate America, other nations recognize that they too have to ensure that as a nation, they must dumb down quickly and forever.

An anchovy and artichoke Pizza

Seaside, Oregon was the destination of my second voyage of the spring and I got there on April 27. I left at 9:30 while the sun burned through the morning clouds. I traveled down I5 to Oregon state Highway #26 and from there directly to Seaside. It was pretty hectic getting from my apartment to #26 about 20 miles away. The next 20 miles were high speed but suburban so it looked like one of those long routes through every suburb in America. It is never long before one reaches an I Hop restaurant.

Once shed of exurbia, I started to climb into the Coastal Range and now the signage indicated that I was on Sunset Drive. Then I was in the Tillamook Forest with its 100 foot tall Douglas Firs. It was too early in the season for the foliage to create a full canopy but it was getting close. Saddle Mountain came into view as a promontory that ended at the highway. A few more miles to coastal highway #101 would take me about 5 miles to my motel room.

Being several hours away from check in time, I spent about an hour walking around, checking store fronts for curiosities and restaurants for menus. The walk was cursory but it gave me ideas about dinner (something always close on my mind). One of the storefront displays was filled with about 100 model cars like I used to assemble as a preteen.

Knowing that I had plenty of time to explore this much bigger than I expected town, I headed south on the Coastal Highway about 40 miles to Tillamook. I took lots of time for stops in some of the towns along the way.

Cannon Beach

This is a beautiful trip and I do it as often as I can (with the exception of this last Covid lock down year) and every time I see something different. Today there were a couple of eagles roosting high above the ocean south of Cannon Beach.

Eagle

Exploring that town a little bit, I left uninspired. However it had all of the accessories that a wealthier tourist town needs. It also has the obelisk rock formations jutting out of the waters which gave the town its name. From there I went to Garibaldi (curiously named for the 19^th century Italian revolutionary). There I walked around and found a city park to eat my home prepared and now soggy sandwich. It was still pretty tasty despite the less than elegant presentation. The park was next the docks and a boat launch so I watched fishing boats coming in for awhile.

One noticeable feature of the Oregon coast is that much of it is not accessible to those actually using the Pacific itself. That is because this terrain was created by volcanoes many millions of years ago. They left basalt cliffs that are high above the water and remarkable in their beauty.

Cliffs 

Back north along the Coastal Highway I traveled about an hour to my motel room and took a break. Once that respite was sufficient, I took another walk around town and decided that tonight it would be seafood which was probably the most popular type of dining around here. I had the fish and chips (cod) from The Twisted Fish Steak House. It was reasonably good. While I enjoyed it well enough, there was nothing remarkable about it.

After a postprandial rest, I went out to see the sun set on the coast. I was too early so I walked around and initially saw those touristy venues with allures of the basest kind like all coastal towns bent on drawing people to enjoy them. Seaside was somewhat more declasse than Cannon Beach so the attractions were designed not for elegance but for the number of people that could fit into the establishment (hampered noticeably by Covid restrictions). So...walking past the bumper car arena and the tee shirt emporium I read some of the statements one could adorn themselves with. You can buy a sweatshirt with a slogan regarding Seaside, Oregon, either basic or humorous. You can also buy shirts that have nothing to do with this locale but state the opinion some media talking head wants you to think you have. You can attest to what symbol you will need to stand for and which you will kneel for. It is like a chevron except on your chest rather than your sleeve.

I stopped for a beer at the Sisu Brew Pub and watched the end of a baseball game. Despite the crowds on the street, the pub was nearly empty. I had their red ale and that was a bit sweet but palatable and by now the sun was close enough to setting so I trekked the few blocks back to the beach, camera in hand.

I explored along the mile and a half promenade waiting for the right moment and watched what other tourists and locals were doing. I am not as intrepid as hundreds of others at the beach which was too cold for me to walk barefoot. It wasn't all that cold but I kept my shoes on.

There were beach performers that included a new style for me. A couple of young men had buckets of soapy water and these net like instruments that allowed them to make bubbles of enormous size. Not only were they large but they took forms more like jellyfish than the perfectly round ones that those children's kits make. They also traveled pretty far, probably about 400 feet up on the perpendicular road filled with enthralled tourists.

Bubble

Bubble makers

Everyone seemed to enjoy these spectacles as much as I did.

The sun finally muted to orange from its yellow intensity a few moments ago and I was able to get many pictures and here is one of them.

Sunset on the Pacific Ocean

The motel room itself was pretty weathered but the pandemic amenities were excellent. They included a kitchenette which had I known of in advance, I would have bought something to prepare while there. On the other hand one reason to come to the coast is to eat the local food.

So as usual I used the refrigerator for beer and snacks and the microwave to heat some seafood bisque. I had a view of the parking lot but the cost of an ocean view room was prohibitive and the Pacific was only two blocks away anyway.

It was a good first day of my get away. It was also a beautiful one. I got to have a nice long seaside drive and ate well.

I began Wednesday much like I ended Tuesday-taking a long walk along the promenade which was built by one of the town fathers around 130 years ago. The ocean itself is about a quarter mile away from the promenade that the immigrant town father, Alexandre Gilbert built in the 1890s. I also re-toured much of the town (again scouting out my evening meal). Along the promenade were dog walkers, aged exercisers (I suppose I would be in that demographic), bike riders and a few homeless people who may have slept at the beach. These groups of people replaced the families and side show artists of the previous evening. The sun peaked over the Coastal Range to the east and blinded anyone heading in that direction at that time of the morning. In the distance and at the shore were photographers and painters as well as a few early waders in what must have been gelid briny waves.

The scrub grasses that could survive on the sand lent a green\brown hue and undoubtedly protected the town from the massive winter tides that exist every winter at the coast.

I stayed pretty local all day on Wednesday, going back to the promenade on several occasions. I bought a couple of carne asada tacos and enjoyed them on one of my ventures back to the shore. Even though I traipsed about 5 miles around the town I still need periodic down times and lolled about the motel room once in a while during the day but come evening and dinner time I headed back out. I had already bought a nice Columbia Valley Red blend to accompany dinner while out earlier so now this venture would be for my evening repast.

My walk was piloted by my taste buds and this evening they clamored for Italian demanding that loudly. There was Nonni's Italian Restaurant and I bought a cannelloni dinner and took it back to my room to be enjoyed along with a glass of the red wine. It was not exactly fine dining, what with my glass being one of those flimsy plastic freebies at the motel, the ones sealed in a plastic bag to be peeled away from when first being used. Nonetheless the food was spectacular and I was thankful for the occasional belch that reminded me of my meal throughout the evening.

I was nearly done for the day but did take one more trip to the ocean for a much less elegant sunset than the evening before. The rest of the night I spent reading and watching some forgettable television before falling asleep.

Thursday morning I took one final but pretty extensive walk around town and along the promenade. Once rush hour was over I checked out and headed east and to home along Oregon Highway #30. This route is the shortest way back to Portland and up to Vancouver but it is only interesting for a short time after leaving Astoria and long before getting to Portland. Outside of Rainier, OR I could see a mountain top-probably Mt. Rainier given the town's name, perhaps Mt. St. Helen's which is much closer but more to the east. Anyway I am not sure. The trip was complete but it was a well spent three days.

On May 12^th the Republican party stripped Liz Cheney of some leadership roles because she would not swear blind allegiance to a past presidency. Absolute conformity to an anti democratic authority is the only acceptable position to take if you are a republican. Otherwise they will castigate you. I guess this drive to destroy democracy is a result of republican “sheeple” confusing that word with democrat. They won't settle for any thing less than a return of the orange president. You all remember him, he is the one who did nothing for the people who are his devoted minions. He did not have time for them since he was lining the pockets of himself, his family members and a small number of his peers. His actions did nothing to make this a better place for the vast majority of Americans.

The weekend of May15th was particularly pleasant with highs in the upper 70s and plenty of sun. That enhanced a couple of visits quite a bit. On Saturday I went to county park in Northwestern Vancouver on the Columbia River. Frenchman's Bar, so named for Paul Hauray, a French fur trader bound for Alaska. I walked it for about an hour and a half which was near enough time to see the whole of what the park could offer. In many ways there was little that I generally want in my walking space. There was a dearth of birds though it is too early to suggest that it is a bad place to go to view birds. I was there on a very summer like noon time. Perhaps the evening, morning or autumn would provide different opportunities to see interesting birds.

The park is pretty well kept up with facilities and picnic situations everywhere. On this excellent day for a picnic, other families and groups were there in large numbers. They cooked, ate, played volleyball and cards. Lots of people enjoyed the beach playing volleyball and frisbee, others fished. Some waded along the river. Signs warned that with some deep drop offs and swift currents, swimming was less than prudent. I would imagine that even unspoken, the river while beautiful, is still a river with ocean bound ships and recreational boating and probably reasonably polluted.

So I am not going to be a regular at this park I can imagine coming out on an occasional early morning. Perhaps some fine summer day I'll bring some charcoal and chicken and barbecue my dinner and read a book for awhile. I enjoyed that so many other people were enjoying themselves at Fisherman's Bar.

The next day was likewise summer like and being a Sunday, I decided to venture down to Milwaukee, OR to see the town and to check out their Sunday Farmer's Market. The Milwaukee central stop on Portland's light rail's Yellow line is about an hour's trip from Delta Park where I normally board the train. I took a bus from downtown Vancouver to Delta Park after driving from my apartment. This meant that in total I traveled nearly two hours to get to the Farmer's Market. I did not care for having a good book and riding through parts of Portland that I had never been to, there by scoping out places I might want to visit.

I got to the right stop and explored downtown Milwaukee a bit before entering the large market right downtown. It is still too early for markets to be in full bloom so I bought no produce but I did buy a bottle of Alicha Kulet (or for us Americans, turmeric sauce) from the Ethiopian booth where I also bought a small meal of spiced chicken, vegetables and injira bread. I took this basket down to a small park on the Willamette River to enjoy some riverside ambiance along with my spicy lunch

Milwaukie Market

Willamette River

Most all of May was sunny and dry. Even the gray and drizzly days did not provide enough water to make even a small dent in the reservoir table. As much as I enjoy warm and dry, it appears that we are in bad shape and the fire season looms nigh. So early June provided some rain but it did not start until the day I left for home after a visit with my daughters and grandson. It was a good visit because it was the first one where we had the option to do something other than sit outside and solve all of the world's problems. Friday night Lucie and her boyfriend, Eddy and I went to a local Mexican restaurant where I had excellent chicken enchiladas in mole sauce. We ended up staying late talking over beers. On Saturday morning I drove up to Hannah's where we entertained and were entertained by Ali.

At just the right time in the afternoon the three of us headed off to the bonsai forest garden in Federal Way where Ali took charge of his stroller and pushed into the side of the walkway. Once an adult extricated it, he did it again, and again until his mother created a game that forced him to chase her.

Bird of paradise

Pensive Ali

While I was up in the Seattle area my old friends who have been living in New Hampshire for many years arrived for their annual visit with their daughter's family in Portland. We got together for dinner and some pub hopping along Hawthorne Ave. Rande and I have something of a system that he have tailored for nearly 50 years now for enjoying a pint and some conversation ranging from the critical to mundane all in an evening. We honed it just a bit more a day after I returned from my visit to the Seattle.

As usual I attended several Zoom lectures. The Oregon State Jewish Heritage Museum puts on a considerable number of historical ones, generally replete with photos from their archives. This season I viewed one on “The Last Train to Auschwitz” whereby Sarah Federman discussed the role a major railroad in transporting Jews to their final fate. The company which still exists today, was very deign to reveal records that implicated them in this human tragedy but times are changing. With the fall of the Iron Curtain, 30 plus years ago, more admission of responsibility has come forth.

In late May I viewed another from the same organization about the architect, Lawrence Halprin and his life especially as it pertained to Portland. Another Jewish history story, this time from the Brooklyn Center of History was about growing up Jewish in Brooklyn and featured a panel of three who discussed their early lives there. Roz Chast a New Yorker cartoonist, Isaak Mizrahi the clothes designer and artist Martin Lemelmen each told their stories but unfortunately two of the three talked quite disparaging about their early life. Only Lemelman spoke joyously about his early years in Brownsville. He and Ms Chast are close to my age and I could relate to parts of their stories about experiences of events that were also national phenomena. Mizrahi is noticeably younger and being gay, both enjoyed (or didn't) a youth considerably different than my own.

Brooke Shield's Father? 

My Tale of 2021's winter

It gets more difficult with each passing season during this pandemic time, to come up with creative things to write about. I did not travel anywhere, I've taken very few photos. I read more than I did in the fall which was more than I did in the summer which is more than I did in the spring. In fact starting with the spring of a year ago I began reading more than I ever have. And now, I have read about 125 books since the original shut down of most normal services at the very end of the winter of 2020.

There was a certain jubilant the air at New Years 2021 at least in the mass media. It was if to remind us that anything was better than last year. I even felt it some but am too much of a cynic to jump on all of the bandwagons that the same mass media wants us to. Now nearly three months into this new year there are no apparent changes to daily conditions. There probably will be...I imagine...someday. We read positive news in between articles about a potential surge in cases.

One of the reasons that its hard to write about much is that everyone reading this has experienced the wider world nearly the same as I have. No one is immune (perhaps that is not so prudent a word to choose) from the shut down so I have nothing to complain about at least not as if my plight is worse or better than yours.

However I must write at least something. It is in my nature. For a variety of reasons I quit writing book reviews on my blog. The largest one was because I grew exhausted of that project. Secondarily because no one read them. I did the practice only for my benefit and just reading whatever book I did, was satisfaction enough. So my writing efforts have slimmed down to a seasonal update and maybe some topic that enters between my ears and between the seasons. So to address the former, the chronology and comments start below.

There was not much time left of December for much to happen. The last few years I has spent the holidays touring the Pacific coast and the towns, parks, oceans and restaurants there. I could have done that as 2020 ebbed away but the thought of buying some seafood renowned fin an area, and hauling it in its Styrofoam box back to a motel room with no amenities and eating it in front of a television set with a screen with such low resolution that it is like watching without glasses, just did not seem like fun in any way.

I did participate and a zoom lecture and did many times during the winter but I won't go into details about any of them here. They all were on topics that I have (or had) an interest in and were free.

I happened to notice while reading the Baltimore Sun, that 334 people were murdered in the city in 2020. I did a little computing, using conservative estimates and determined that at least 10,000 people have been murdered there since I moved there in 1981.

Here in Portland, end of the year commentaries remarked with alarm, that the city had 50 murders in 2020, the most in years. The ratio of homicides between Baltimore and Portland (cities with nearly identical population sizes) was about 6.25 to 1. Baltimore has its 50^th murder before March 1^st as a rule. In 2021 that goal was accomplished on March 10^th in a slow year for Baltimore homicides. There were 2 that day making for a count of 51.

For Christmas dinner I made an Israeli meat pie based on a recipe in the New York Times and it was a pleasant spiced meal. I did take a picture of it for memory's sake but it is not worth posting here simply because the photo is not very good.

I started to use the grocery service, “Imperfect Food” (Imperfect Produce when I first used it) In January. They started out providing unsalable produce for its looks, not quality or condition. They have expanded into a lot of products that I'll never use and some like meats, that I will.

Since the libraries have been closed I haven't been able to exploit the publications that I did not want mailed to me. I simply read them during each visit. One that I particularly missed was the New York Review of Books. So I went ahead and subscribed to that and it started arriving here in December. Even though its consumption means more recycling, I am glad I did. I am trying to figure out a reasonable option for sharing it with others so that it is not simply used once and discarded.

As December waned there were a lot of loud noises coming from POTUS about the “stolen” election of 2020 and the smug assuredness that this wrong would be amended. Then January came.

New Year's day was less eventful for me than ever before but it has been years since I did anything to mark that event. It was a bleak and rainy day so I did not go out much at all. You already know that on January 6^th at the urging of POTUS, a couple of hundred really stupid and ignorant “Patriots” stormed the White House, wrecking havoc and damage while threatening people inside the building in a variety of ways. I term it stupid because memorializing their antics was so important to them. It was if they were too feeble to understand that they were committing a crime and leaving specific evidence. Maybe they thought they would be pardoned on March 4^th when their 19^th president resumed office.. They imagined that they were given legitimacy by a demigod. Now there are legal prices to pay but at least their friends and the rest of the world got to see their 15 minutes of fame.

I use the term ignorant because they do not know or understand things like the Constitution or American history. They merely are doing and saying what their mass media heroes tell them to. They call people who wear protective masks during a pandemic “sheeple” while they do their provocation at the behest of imagined orders. They don't understand what any of this means, they just know that they are against it.

The older I get the less confused I am about the American urgency to be stupid. There are enough of them and they are louder than others so they just turn on propaganda news and obey the incredibly filtered understanding of reality including the routine utter lie.

We survived the inauguration and while the reality of Proud Boys and Patriot Prayer Group and the large number of other democracy hating patriots linger in the wings for the next event that they can be filmed at occurs.

I did go on a few birding hikes throughout the season but none memorable. Both of my daughters told me they would be coming down for a visit along with my grandson 

once the weather was improved do I wanted to scope out a location suitable for a visit. I thought that Sauvie Island northwest of Portland so on January 23^rd I scouted it. Since it was sunny and in the upper 40s I thought it would be a good trip. It was a good trip too. I had to go through many neighborhoods that I had never seen before. There are no light rails in this region so I had never been there. The first 80% of the ride out was through an incredibly articulated path through residential areas and then across the St. John's Bridge.

St. John's Bridge

Being fascinated with bridges as I am this was a treat. It is a beautiful historic one. Once on the other side of it I had only a few more miles to go, mostly through rural areas. Being an island I had another bridge to cross but this was a little one and while attractive, less memorable. I still had about 5 miles to go in order to reach the park. It took me through farm land mostly but there were some houses that did not seem to be attached to farms. There were wetlands filled with winter water birds to spot as well.

Housing there was interesting. Most of the homes were fairly new and clearly priced out of any league I've ever been in. More interesting were the occasional older dwelling. The scene evoked memories of many places around the country I have been to. Some of the older homes were neat and well kept and others clearly lived in but in poor repair. I imagined without fact, that these were surviving land owners who were bent on preserving their homes from the efforts of land developers to sell out. Their land was most likely worth quite a bit. No matter the reasons, I admired that they were there.

Finally I got to the park only to find out that it is closed during the winter months. So...my kids and grandson will not be visiting there in the next few months. Still the trip was a good way to spend a Saturday afternoon in January.

I saw my first flurries of the year on January 26 but they melted upon reaching any surface. Thus far this particular winter had been pretty normal. Mostly gray and ugly days with rain and mist the routine being upended every 3 weeks or so with some genuinely pleasant weather.

Every January I wash away holiday thoughts (should I actually have those) by imagining what I will grow come spring time. It was no different this year as I scoured catalogs for the seeds I would plant and this year I added a small green house to aid in the nurturing of those seeds. So one cold night I assembled it and left it in my living room for several weeks.

I bought seeds for Serranos, Greek Oregeno, Genovese Basil, Cilantro and Morning Glories. I decided this year to frame the peppers and herbs with morning glories in order to see how pollinators liked them. In Mid March I put the seeds in potting soil. The green house has a heater and grow lamps so things ought to work out well for the seeds. That is if the breaker doesn't snap every time I turn it on.

As you already know, February occurred on the 1^st. Every year on that date I am about .02% happier than the day before since I no longer have to imagine that it is January. In 28 days I would be about .03% happier still.

On the 11^th of the month we began to have the first serious snow flurries of the season. By the 13^th we had something like 8 inches of snow, significantly more than I have experience out here. In fact 8 inches is about what we accumulated collectively in my first three winters. Since they do not plow or salt out here, driving remained a mess and walking treacherous for several days. I even used my spiked over shoes while walking. I have not donned those since one big snow fall in Baltimore several years ago.

Somewhere around February 16^th there was no sign that we ever had this storm. There some piles remaining in the corners of large store parking lots but otherwise no residue for cars of pedestrians at all. It did not even get that warm. It just stayed at about 42 degrees for several days and nights.

On February 28^th we had a very spring like day and people got out of their homes and took to walking everywhere. We were all in a good mood too. Then for about 4 days it remained spring like even climbing to about 62 degrees for an hour in the afternoon. Then more typical winter weather returned as was expected. The sun was gone for several days and the rains returned. The spring respite was a good thing to have. Spring was clearly looming.

During the month I decided that I had to get rid of some the weight I've gained during the last year or so and decided that I had to plot my eating with more circumspection than I have been practicing. In the few weeks since I began this endeavor I've lost about a pound in each of them. So I only have about 25 weeks to go.

The plan has been to make some routine items like bar cheese with crackers a semi annual treat rather than three times per week. I also stopped eating anything after 7:00pm and have my main course around 3:30pm. In its early stage this plan appears to bring some success so I'll keep doing it until it doesn't.

I also returned to doing daily exercising for flexibility. I also am walking around 3 miles about 5 times per week. To make that interesting I keep going down different trails located within about ten miles of here.

Lacamas Lake

On February 21^st LawrenceFerlinghetti died. He was 101 so it was not sudden. I'm never saddened by someone with a long life has died since it is natural, even extra natural in this case but the news brought up lots of fond memories.

As a teenager I became first aware of then intrigued by the “Beat Generation”. I read much about it both in historical contexts and then in some prose and poetry from that era. Many seemed to occur in San Francisco but mostly New York City with Greenwich Village being front and center both fictive and historical. Ferlinghetti was often mentioned in both. His San Francisco bookstore (City Lights) was an iconic vista for travelers.

In the early 1980s I worked with a few others editing a magazine of prose and poetry. Each of its three productions were published in numbers around 300 but it was widely distributed. We were contacted by people across the span of this country. After the first issue had been released for a few weeks, Ferlinghetti actually wrote us. The main intent was to congratulate one of our fellow editors, Mark H. on the poem he contributed but each of us five, were pretty impressed that he would see to contacting us. It was our 6 degrees of separation from the Beat Generation.

In 2019 I visited San Francisco for the second time the previous trip around 1980. It was fairly likely that I visited the City Lights bookstore in 1980 but I have no clear memory of it. In 2019 it was an imperative on my visit. My friend Frank C. and I did a day of pedestrian visiting of as many sights as possible including Ferlinghetti's store. When I got home I was curious. I had never seen that the San Francisco bard had died but I knew that he at least had to be quite old. I looked him up on line and discovered that he was alive and with a centennial birthday approaching. We were a week off from the gala at the bookstore but that is probably just as well since the very cramped bookstore would have been claustrophobic for the likes of me.

Well, RIP Mr. Ferlinghetti and thanks for the memory. I played Mingus while reading the tribute in the Paris Review and now you can too. If you are so pedestrian to not possess any Mingus, you can find him on Youtube.

Like always I attended three Zoom lectures all at the end of February.

Since the last few days of February, spring has pretty much arrived. We have lots of pleasant days and a few that have been well more typically spring in the PNW. Today (3/18) it has been blustery and rainy with a half an hour here and there of respite including even a bit of sun. Spring is always a time of hope as buds shoot from the soil and on the limbs of trees.

                                                                 Multnomah Falls

Opening day is in early spring and predictions and renewed hopes flower earlier that the flora in any of our neighborhoods. Standard time makes way for daylight savings, porches and decks get their spring cleaning and the wafting of barbecue memories saturate the air-at least in the congested areas that I have always lived in. Dreams of vacations and travel enter the whimsy of those hopes endemic in spring time. Even this year when no one knows when safe travel will be available again.

So I am hoping to go to Michigan to see my ultra geriatric father (not quite the 101 years that the icon mentioned above attained, but getting there). Being only of simple geriatric age myself, at almost any time (perhaps the last one) the visits will be over. I'm hoping to combine that trip to Michigan with one to Baltimore. In the fall I am hoping to get to Galveston to see the bird migration.

During much of February I was awash with emails and newsletters exhorting me to get my vaccine for Covid 19. Locations were provided where they could be scheduled. I filled out applications etc. many times but while the flurry of vaccine news gained a life of its own, there were no vaccines to be had. Finally I found a location that was first come first serve with lines beginning at 6:00 am. I was expecting the worse. Conditions as they were I was concerned that at 6 I would still not be in the first 100 persons for the day (they were limited to that number on a daily basis). However on March 10^th at 6:00 am I was number 12. That fortune did not get me the vaccine however, merely the ability to schedule (sort of) my shot. So I went home and ate a huge meal of huevos ranchero and waited for a phone call with my time slot. This came at about the time I was burping the refried beans that were a part of this breakfast. I headed back to the clinic and finally got the first of two doses. The second is to come on March 31^st. A few friends and family are refusing the vaccine but they also think Trump won the popular vote so you get an idea of their critical thinking skills with that data alone. If they are wrong I guess that we will have a police state and then I suppose we will all be forced to imagine that there are Americans in existence other than our selves.

Today, the first day of spring, the local Farmer's Market opened and I was there. I haven't been downtown often during the winter but today I saw flowering trees. One of them looked like it was planted by the people at Imperfect Foods.

Until Next time.

https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2021/02/24/farewell-to-ferlinghetti/?mc_cid=bb75c51056&mc_eid=7cca08a247

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5STaUWmh9bw